Jul 11, 2012
Priests move through Stephen’s mind, in the sort of passage that got Joyce in trouble. Three bells mark three Eucharists.
” . . . A choir gives back menace and echo, assisting about the
altar’s horns, the snorted Latin of jackpriests moving burly
in their albs, tonsured and oiled and gelded, fat with the
fat of kidneys of wheat.“
And at the same instant perhaps a priest round the cor-
ner is elevating it. Dringdring! And two streets off another
locking it into a pyx. Dringadring! And in a ladychapel an-
other taking housel all to his own cheek. Dringdring! Down,
up, forward, back. Dan Occam thought of that, invincible
doctor. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tick-
led his brain. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard
twine with his second bell the first bell in the transept (he
is lifting his) and, rising, heard (now I am lifting) their two
bells (he is kneeling) twang in diphthong.