Re: Joyce Episode 107: Heretics and Houyhnhnms

jun 27, 2012

Re: Joyce Episode 107: Heretics and Houyhnhnms

Stephen ponders his family’s fall from grace. Joachim Abbas. Frank unpacks “the rabble.”

“Houses of decay, mine, his and all. You told the
Clongowes gentry you had an uncle a judge and an uncle
a general in the army. Come out of them, Stephen.
Beauty is not there. Nor in the stagnant bay of Marsh’s
library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim
Abbas. For whom? The hundredheaded rabble of the
cathedral close. A hater of his kind ran from them to the
wood of madness, his mane foaming in the moon, his
eyeballs stars. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. . . .”

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Re: Joyce, Episode 106: Whiskey and Whistling

jun 20, 2012

Re: Joyce, Episode 106: Whiskey and Whistling

In Stephen’s mind (still on Sandymount Strand), his uncle offers him food and drink, of a sorts. Second-hand opera, and a note of warning.

69 of 1305
Tandy, filing consents and common searches and a writ of
Duces Tecum. A bogoak frame over his bald head: Wilde’s
Requiescat. The drone of his misleading whistle brings
Walter back.
—Yes, sir?
—Malt for Richie and Stephen, tell mother. Where is
she?
—Bathing Crissie, sir.
Papa’s little bedpal. Lump of love.
—No, uncle Richie …
—Call me Richie. Damn your lithia water. It lowers.
Whusky!
—Uncle Richie, really …
—Sit down or by the law Harry I’ll knock you down.
Walter squints vainly for a chair.
—He has nothing to sit down on, sir.
—He has nowhere to put it, you mug. Bring in our
chippendale chair. Would you like a bite of something?
None of your damned lawdeedaw airs here. The rich of a
rasher fried with a herring? Sure? So much the better. We
have nothing in the house but backache pills.
All’erta!
He drones bars of Ferrando’s aria di sortita. The grandest
number, Stephen, in the whole opera. Listen.

His tuneful whistle sounds again, finely shaded, with
rushes of the air, his fists bigdrumming on his padded
knees.
This wind is sweeter. ”

Re: Joyce, Episode 105: Irish Bull

jun 13, 2012

Re: Joyce, Episode 105: Irish Bull

“In his broad bed nuncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over the hillock of his
knees a sturdy forearm. Cleanchested. He has washed the upper moiety.

―Morrow, nephew.  (Sit down and take a walk.)

He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for the eyes of master Goff
and master Shapland Tandy, filing consents and common searches and a writ of duces

tecum. A bogoak frame over his bald head: Wilde’s Requiescat. The drone of his
misleading whistle brings Walter back.”

An imagined domestic scene, mock heroism, and Stephen’s nuncle. Differing versions of the text, and contradictions. Names unpacked, and a poignant poem.

Re: Joyce, Episode 104: A Little Swearing

jun 06, 2012

Re: Joyce, Episode 104: A Little Swearing

“Sally? Couldn’t he fly a bit higher than that, eh? And and and and tell us, Stephen, how is
uncle Si? O, weeping God, the things I married into! De boys up in de hayloft. The
drunken little costdrawer and his brother, the cornet player. Highly respectable gondoliers!
And skeweyed Walter sirring his father, no less! Sir. Yes, sir. No, sir. Jesus wept: and no
wonder, by Christ!

I pull the wheezy bell of their shuttered cottage: and wait. They take me for a dun, peer out
from a coign of vantage.

―It’s Stephen, sir.

―Let him in. Let Stephen in.

A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me.

―We thought you were someone else.

I pull the wheezy bell of their shuttered cottage: and wait. They take me for a dun, peer out from a coign of vantage.

―It’s Stephen, sir.
―Let him in. Let Stephen in.
A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me.
―We thought you were someone else.”

In Stephen’s mind, his father continues to mock his mother’s family, and Stephen visits his uncle’s cottage.