Showing posts with label Reading Group. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reading Group. Show all posts

Wednesday, 25 July 2012

055.30 to 058.22

Greetings again after a brief interlude for conferences, semester breaks and the like.

In our new digs (3.G.42 for future reference) we got into the meat of the third section of book 1. As usual, some brief thoughts from me.

56.03-4: 'as pro tem locums timesported acorss the yawning (abyss)' Joyce's phrase here is immediately evocative, for me, of ideas that were addressed on the previous page (see here). As we circle around the real narrative of the Wake Joyce feeds us a series of philosophical insights that develop the broader theoretical focus of the text (or perhaps another of the theoretical focuses of the text). We know that Vico's ricorso is crucial (it's the first thing we encounter in the whole text, the beginning of the previous iteration of the whole ungainly beast!) and that the ricorso messes with time in a very peculiar manner. This may not seem immediately clear, but the observer/reader of the narrative being 'timesported' throughout the text appears to me to the be the most cogent temporal model for the Wake we have encountered so far. Excitingly, 'pro tem locums', 'holding the place for a time' (Joyce's variant 'pro tem locum') combines the spatial and the temporal, then it appears as if Joyce really does achieve something spectacularly complex in this novel: the coherent combination of space and time together, perhaps the most exciting of modernist experimentation in the wake of Einstein's special theory of relativity in 1905. N.B. that 'acorss', glossed by McHugh as the Dutch 'kors' sounds very close to the long sound of 'ricorso'.

56.20-30: '...Inn the days of the Bygning...some lazy skald or maundering pote, lift wearwilly his...eyes to the semisigns of his zooteac...' This whole parahgraphs is exciting, but the parallels to Dante (cf. 'Seudodanto!', 47.19) got me thinking again on the many ways in which HCE parallels Joyce himself, but more importantly, all writers. It's not too much of a stretch here to see HCE (during his wake), exiled to hell (van Demon's Land), sighing in despair at his entire fate, and contemplating like Dante, the realities of the world. In a text such as this, where the production of meaning is, even more than usual, placed upon the shoulders of the reader, it seems inevitable that the reader sympathises with HCE as he struggles himself with writing his fate. Of course, the letter that is crucial to the tale is another form of writing that HCE must interact with (or avoid) throughout the narrative. Allusions to Swift (especially Gulliver's Travels) appear crucial here also.

58.6-7: 'They have waved his green boughs o'er him as they have torn him limb from lamb.' Aside from the christological allusions that we discussed during our reading, another element of this sentence has occurred to me. McHugh's gloss of 'hollyday' as Ivy Day and the resultant link to Joyce's story from Dubliners and the general Joycean approval of Parnell seems pertinent, especially considering the sacrificial role Parnell played in nationalist politics of the period. Considering the way that Parnell was feted, there is also the sense here in which it is the vulnerable statesmen that is sacrificed, torn 'limb from lamb'.

Please feel free to comment below! All thoughts more than appreciated.

We're reading 58.23 to 61.27 next time. We haven't yet been able to lock in a day or time, so I will post here when both are confirmed. JG

Thursday, 28 June 2012

053.07 to 055.30

Hi all! Back to our wicked ways, this time not only failing to get through our allotted pages, but failing even to end neatly at the end of a paragraph. (Oh well {to paraphrase Beckett}, ever tried, ever failed, try again, fail again, fail better!)

53.28 'best of redpublicans, at Eagle Cock Hostel' The political framework of FW and of HCE appears to be clarified (at least a little) in this section. We know that the Joyce's (father and son) sympathised with Parnell and venerated him as the best of Irish heroes (cf. 'Ivy Day in the Committee Room' from Dubliners and Ellman's biography). Previously, it had appeared as if HCE (and in general the male characters of the Wake) had a conflicted view of Irish nationalism. You'll remember that around 49 we encountered a character who fought with the British in the Crimean. I imagined that this was the fate of HCE; not just to betray his wife and family, but to betray his country as well. Yet, if HCE is the "best of republicans" we can maintain hope for him yet!

53.31 'starchboxsitting in the pit' Of course, I feel contradicted only lines later, with Joyce's allusion to Charles X's reported statement that he, "like all Frenchmen, only have a place in the pit". Whether HCEs transgressions approximate the French disregard for the proletariat it appears that someone is doomed.

Plenty of stutters to note: 53.36 'Chee chee cheers' and 'crow cru cramwells'; 54.03 'wowhere'; 54.28 'ohoh open'; 55.16 'pippa pointing'.

Some great number play to note on 54 as well. Aside from another invocation of 1132 ('Millecientotrigintadue', 54.120) discussed previously here, Joyce also identifies Halley's Comet as a mark of certainty, for it inevitably appears every seventy-six years ('like sixes and seventies as eversure as Halley's comet', 54.07).

55.22-7 For me the most exciting of passages, although not necessarily the clearest. We begin with 'Cycloptically', which immediately suggests to me cyclicity (Vico, eternal return, and so on). Yet at the same time, the Cyclops is evoked, no surprise considering the Greek references in the preceding pages. The cyclops, however, doesn't suggest repetition to me (perhaps the labyrinth is a possibility?). Joyce, only a few lines later, performs this cyclicity, describing how 'the clad pursue the bare, the bare the green, the green the frore, the frore the cladagain, as their convoy wheeled encirculingly abound the gigantig's lifetree', (55.25-7). This appears a primal performance of the simultaneous cyclicity and change that the eternal return (and Vico's ricorso) enacts. Conveniently, a bracketed interjection erupts lines later, admonishing us for not recognising 'repetition!' (55.29)

Comments and thoughts warmly welcomed. Thanks also to fweet for their nod and for directing some traffic this way.

We're meeting next on the Tuesday the 17th of July at 1pm to read from 55.30 to 58.23. Writing and Society will have moved to Building 3, so I'll update new room details when they come to hand. JG

Tuesday, 19 June 2012

050.33 to 053.06

Greetings all! A rare meeting in which we actually read what we said we would...

As usual, the Wake served up to us another iteration of 'the haardly creditable edventyres of the Haberdasher, the two Curchies and the three Enkelchums in their Bearskin ghoats'. (51.13-5)

The section transformed from the theatrical (and musical) of the beginning of chapter three, Joyce incorporating the lines of two songs from Percy French (at 50.33-6), before becoming, more formally, the filming, broadcasting and televising we were anticipating.

I got the sense that HCE isn't the most comfortable in front of the camera... Aside from the fact that he appears to adopt 'the shape of the average human cloudyphiz' (50.35 to 51.01), which makes it very difficult to 'idendifine the individuone' (51.06), HCE also appears to be sensitive about having any of his faces on camera at all. The Spanish lines (52.14-6) poke fun at our man, and perhaps at the filmic medium as well.

51.21-27 clarifies this a little. HCE, in beginning to provide the 'fully armed explanation' (51.23-4), is simultaneously revealed for the chamaeleon-like abilities he has. He is a 'native of the sisterisle', but at the same time he has the 'ex-race eyes, lokil calour and lucal odour which are said to have been average clownturkish'. How ever many iterations we read we still know that HCE is on the nose!

Joyce's representation of HCEs appearance on camera doesn't appear to depart radically from the general presentation of the narrative as we have encountered it so far, unsurprising for a text that departs radically (in so many ways) from the conventions of language and the novel. There is a brief suggestion , however, that Joyce is aware of the radical advances that film allows for the arts. HCE (on 52.06-8) '[h]aving reprimed his repeater and resiteroomed his timespiece His Revenances, with still a life or two to spare' begs for compassion. The camera, however, is not the most compassionate of devices. One "shoots" a film (along with so many more martial metaphors (cf. Kittler in Gramophone, Film, Typewriter) which explains the merging of temporal and martial allusions within this section (especially the 'repeater' being glossed by McHugh as both watch and firearm). Further, the film allows the character to live in another temporal realm, and simultaneously to occupy a new created time and to exist forever in film. Bit of a confused thought I know...

And if film allows the creation of multiple times it also facilitates the construction of multiple worlds, hence the invocation of 'probable words, possibly said' (52.32).

We're meeting next Wednesday (27 June) at 2 pm to read 53.07 56.19. Onwards with the 'humphriad'! (53.09)

Thursday, 7 June 2012

048.01 to 050.32

Greetings. We've graduated onto the third chapter of the Wake, simultaneously cracking the fifty page mark! A few thoughts from me on what was at first glance a relatively straightforward section but on closer examination proved confusingly opaque.

The first part of chapter three sees HCEs "version of the story filmed, televised and broadcast" (lii). The short part we read for this meeting didn't necessarily get us up to those events, but we did observe that Joyce was laying the groundwork for an exploration of the theatre, and of performance. Thus, from the clearing of the throat on 48.01 to 48.04, the theatre is invoked, with allusions to theatres and performances in Dublin.

As the reader has worked out by now, one of the main concerns of FW is an analysis of some objective idea of truth. I wouldn't necessarily assume that the theatre would be the best means of conning the truth out of someone; however, the theatre here (and the performance) is doubled with the idea of the courtroom (in which, presumably, one is likelier to have easier access to the truth).

Thus, 48.07 'Vergobretas' occured to me as thematically crucial to the pages we read. A "vergobret" according to McHugh was a chief magistrate in Gaul, invoking the idea of the court. Simultaneously, 'vergobretas' includes "veritas" the Latin for "truth". This then leads me to the Latin phrase "in vino veritas", "in wine, truth". This appears relevant (at least to me) because of the series of drinkers and drunkards we've encountered in the previous pages. Perhaps the combination of performance and the courts creates the conditions for the truth to finally come out about HCEs indiscretion ('which, thorough readable to into from and, is from tubb to buttom all falsetissues, antilibellous and nonactionable' (48.17-18)). Nonetheless, a sense of vertigo might also be experienced...

We struggled with much of 49, unable to establish clearly who '[h]is husband' was and the outline of this character (49.02). We do know he sold out to the English (49.03) at the end of the Crimean War. I can report that the conflict occured in the 1850s and pitted the Russians over a coalition of western European forces for control and influence over the Ottoman Empire.

49.36-50.01: 'indentity of undiscernibles' McHugh glosses this phrase as relating to Leibni(t)z and his proposal that everything in the world was absolutely original and discrete. The relevance of this for me is not specifically in the reference to Leibniz's ideas, but rather for the idea of truth that can be extrapolated from this it. It appears as if Leibniz's concept anticipates a justification for HCEs actions. My hunch is developed further by the nearby reference to...

50.19 'Padre Don Bruno' otherwise known as Bruno of Nola. This is the philosopher and mathematician of 'Dante . . . Bruno . Vico . . Joyce' fame. (This is the title of Samuel Beckett's essay on FW, mostly constructed from hints given to Beckett by Joyce.) {The dots in the title are said to indicate the periods of time between each of the individuals, with one dot approximating a century.}
Bruno extended Copernicus' work, arguing for infinite possible worlds in the universe, and presenting the sun as one of a network of infinite range, rather than the be all and end all of the universe. Sadly, Bruno was burnt at the stake for heresy.

It perhaps speaks ill for our esteemable character HCE, if his transgressions are paralleled with Bruno's: the ending could be messy!

Your thoughts and comments are appreciated.

We're meeting to read 50.33 to 53.06 on Monday the 18th of June at 1 pm (n.b. the change of day). I'll send an e-mail next week to confirm.  JG

Thursday, 24 May 2012

044.24 to 047.29

Greetings! We've made it to the end of Chapter Two, having read 'The Ballad of Persse O'Reilly' for this week, an interesting version here. It's very exciting to feel as if we're making real progress through the Wake. Some thoughts below...

'The Ballad' appears, at least in one sense, to recapitulate the general narrative of the first two chapters. Beginning with HCEs misdemeanour (cf. 47.02: 'to go and shove himself that way on top of her'; although much more than a little misdemeanour in this iteration) in Phoenix Park, we also have reiterated the religious and political elements of the Parnell narrative, parallelling HCEs own transgressions.

45.28 'Balbaccio, balbuccio!' A delightful insult of HCE for his stuttering ('fafafather' (45.13), 'chaw chaw chops' (45.29), 'hippopopotamuns' (47.08)), combining, according to McHugh, the "diminutive" and "perjorative" suffixes of the Italian.

46.09-11 'bom...Bimbam...bum' A strange similarity to Beckett's play What Where in which the four characters are named Bam Bem Bim  and Bom.

Joyce also retells the tale of the Viking invasions (46.18-24), as the language shifts from a generally romance-based etymology to that of the low countries. There's a surreal exchange between the invading character (with family in tow) speaking with Dublin's Poolbeg Lighthouse.

Song-wise, it all appears to end quite poorly for HCE. A dispute with ALP is brooding, and ALP is also the pesky earwig in HCEs ear. He also appears to be threatened not only with fire ('we'll bonfire all his trash, tricks and trumpery' (46.06)), but the citizens want to kill him outright and bury him in Oxmanstown so that 'not all the king's men nor his horses / Will resurrect his corpus' (47.26-7).

I do, however, have a question on the significance of the invocation of four great writers at 47.19: 'Suffoclose! Shikespower! Suedodanto! Anonymoses!' Are these names invoked because their characters succumb to tragic (and often gruesome) fates? or is there perhaps a further significance that I can't perceive?

We're meeting on the 5th of June at 1 pm to tackle the beginnings of Chapter Three, from 48.01 to 51.20. All welcome of course, both to join our group or to comment below. JG


Thursday, 10 May 2012

042.17 to 044.21

Hi all. We grappled with a much more manageable two pages this week, and had a great time doing so. A few thoughts from me that appear (at this moment) relevant:


42.17 "lieder" When we discussed how we would approach the lead in to 'The Balled of Persse O'Reilly' Lou observed that the final paragraph before the song appeared to owe much to songwriting and musicality in general. I think that we lucked out beginning where we did, because 'lieder' in the first line of our reading is the German for 'songs.' So, we are immediately inducted by Joyce into a musical register.


42.20 "(Eleutheriodendron! Spare, woodmann, spare!)" A very neat metaphor for freedom that is initially developed from the comparison between HCE and ALP pursued in the previous couple of lines, then reiterated by the linking of freedom and the tree (both from the Greek). Also of note: Beckett's first play (written in 1947, published after his death in 1995) is Eleutheria.


This short section suggested to me a strong similarity to the 'Circe' section of Ulysses, in which Bloom's wanderings through the night are slowly populated by more and more characters (including all those who have previously appeared in the text; cf. "supercrowd" (42.22)) before the entire scene explodes in rhapsody. This build up to celebration (or a song in FW's case) appears to owe much to musical theatre in which characters slowly gather on stage, the narrative continuing, until a musical cue (like 44.23) stops time, and all the characters present sing a song.


Although the temporal structure of FW is in no way clear to me yet, the temporal disruption of the 'The Ballad of Persse O'Reilly' definitely suggests that time is not simple within the novel. Staggering observation I know... However, the temporal disruption of musical theatre is doubled here by the various other disruptions of space and geography that Joyce includes. Most notably on 42 and 43 what began in the previous pages as a group of drunks badgering HCE for drink quickly expands to include all of Dublin, then the UK, and into Gaul and (ancient) western Europe.


Our next meeting is on 22 May at 1 pm, reading from 44.24 to 47.29 (the end of chapter two). Progress is being made!


As usual, I plead for comments, which can be entered below this post. I'd also appreciate you 'following' my blog. This will get you regular updates and more (perhaps). There's a button somewhere on your right for it. Finally, Lou sent me this link, which encapsulates some of the many emotions I've had whilst reading the Wake. http://biblioklept.org/2012/05/07/finnegans-wake-with-bunny/ Check it out!


JG

Friday, 27 April 2012

038.09 to 042.16

Greeting all. We made significant process in our last meeting, moving through almost 5 (!) pages! As usual, a few brief comments from me, and as usual, I'd appreciate any comments. Let me know what I've missed, what I misunderstood, what I didn't get at all...no claims to understand absolutely here.

38.23: 'the gossiple so delivered in his epistolear' McHugh tells us that the gospel and the epistle are the opposite sides of a Christian altar. Not really what we were interested in though. I really appreciate Joyce's means of building up layers of allusions miles before the fact; that is, the 'gossiple' and the 'epistolear' both seem to question the truth of the written document, a fact that will be important to us when we come across a letter again...

39 and 40: No specific references here, but a more general comment on Joyce's references to horse racing. Joyce has shown his interest in the sport of kings previously (see 'Lotus Eaters' in Ulysses). There's almost a sense of repetition here, with a cast of characters remonstrating and sympathising after being unsuccessful on the punt. Except perhaps for W.W. (Winny Widger (39.11)), who 'goes through the card', which, according to McHugh is to get up on every race at the meet.

40.05: 'alcoh alcoho alcoherently' I've previously posted on stutters within the text (motivated much by Chris Eagle's work on same) but I've got to say I think this is the best stutter I've come across so far.

42.09-10: 'I want money. Pleasend.' A moment very reflective of the author, who lived for the best part of his life in a hand to mouth existence. From memory, this was one of JJ's less polite means of requesting a top up from his brother Stanislaus when things were getting tight.

We're meeting on the 8th of May to read from 42.17 to 44.21. As usual all are welcome. Please comment below!

JG

Monday, 16 April 2012

034.30 to 038.08

Greeting all!

At our last meeting we read the bulk of HCEs encounter with the cad, a hilarious section that highlighted the ironies of HCEs character. As usual, simply a couple of observations from me; it'd be great to hear your comments (which can be made below).

35.01-02 'They tell the story (an amalgam as absorbing as calzium chloereydes and hyrdrophobe sponges could make it)...' I think one of my most regular observations on the wake is the importance of irony and sarcasm to the presentation of the narrative. As the narrator introduces the reader to the encounter between the two characters, Joyce jumps between complexity and simplicity. The parenthetical interruption presents a doubled sort of irony, the first the distinction between a 'hydrophobe sponge' and calcium chloride (which absorbs water). This almost paradoxical comparison is then applied to the story we're about to read, an ironic questioning (as least for me) of some of the more wacky of Joyce's narratological techniques.

35.01-11 Similar to my observation above, in establishing the scene for the encounter builds layer upon layer of detail. This appears to be undermined by the very simplicity of the conclusion to the sentence, in which we are finally told that "he [HCE] met a cad with a pipe." This combination of ambiguity and clarity works effectively with HCEs blundering attempts to explain himself whilst simultaneously attempting to interpret the cads intentions.

35.32-36.13 Perhaps the combination of clarity and obfuscation should be interpreted as Joyce's representation of HCEs speaking style; a combination of pomposity and simplicity. The passage I'm referring to here is only part of HCEs response to the cad's request for the time (for which HCE consults his 'chronometrum drumdrum' whilst also hearing the church bells and exclaiming that it is 'twelve of em sidereal and tankard time'. Most crucial (or perhaps just funny) to me is a bracketed interjection in which the narrator pokes fun at HCEs style, describing an imaginary tome, 'the Sayings Attributive of H. C. Earwicker'. Definitely not the saviour here, but Joyce again seems to poke fun at himself and his characters simultaneously.

A very brief series of observations, with much more possible from the very famous passage. Please let me know your thoughts by commenting below.

We're meeting on Tuesday the 24th of April, at 1 pm, reading from 38.09 to 42.16 (although I'm sure we'll get nowhere near to the end!)

JG

Thursday, 15 March 2012

033.14 to 034.29

Greetings all! We're back amongst the Wake. We had a good turnout last week (thanks to all who came along), but if you'd prefer we operate on a different day let me know, and hopefully we can be available to all. Here goes on my (minimal) thoughts on what was a diverting page and a half.

33.16-17: 'the stinks of Mohorat are in the nightplots of the morning' Although this is one of those bracketed phrases that you might be tempted to ignore, I reckon a little thinking is useful for this one. We're in the thick of the various revelations of HCEs crime, at this point being revealed as a 'baser meaning...by certain wisecrackers'. The insertion in brackets then appears inevitably ironic. "Mohorat" is glossed by McHugh as pertaining to the Hebrew for tomorrow. So HCEs crime ('the stink' of tomorrow) appears to take place also in the dream of that specific day. I sense a real temporal manipulation on Joyce's part, and one that will be crucial later in the text.

33.28: 'Faun and Flora' Not a huge revelation, but the first of a series of related pairs that occur within the next page or two; cf. 'wapt from weft' (34.24) and 'vert or venison' (34.25). The distinction is between opposites, and for both the first and third, is between the animal and the vegetable.

33.32-34.09: Another passage too long to quote (beginning 'Truth, beard on prophet...') Of note is the number of Latin words that appear, mimicing the legalese and cant of the court system. Although HCE is not on trial yet, the narrator adopts the legal tone for a large section of these pages, assaying a defence that always seems on the verge of revealing precisely what it is seeking to deny.

34.28-9: 'an abnormal Saint Swithin's summer and, [...] a ripe occasion to provoke it.' The failed justification for HCEs crime. Coming hot on the heels of a series of references to fertility and fecundity, it is no surprise that the weather on Saint Swithin's day (15 July) is popularly supposed to recur for the following forty days. The wetness of the season appears to prompt the distinctions above between plant and animal; perhaps there's something to be made of Swithin's name appearing to derive from "swine", although I'm not so sure whether it's HCE who's the pig or if it's the viewers.

As usual I'd love to read any feedback you have. Please comment below!

We're next meeting on March 20, at 1 pm unless I post changing the time. We're reading 34.30 to 38.08. JG

Thursday, 3 November 2011

030.01 to 033.13

Greetings again! We've valiantly charged through Chapter 1 (including some very perplexing moments toward the end) and yesterday met to discuss this beginning of Chapter 2. As always, simply some brief comments and thoughts from me. And yes, please comment, it'd be great to get some further dialogue happening.

Re-reading this section again, it appears as if the links to Beowulf that we briefly touched on are more relevant than I first thought. So, aside from the first word of the chapter, 'Now', which operates similarly to the first word of Beowulf ('So') in immediately dropping you into the middle of the narrative (in media res?), two other themes seem to fit in. Firstly, the desire to name HCE. You'll remember that Beowulf is absolutely concerned with making his name and fulfilling the familial honour that was so important at that time. I guess when we consider HCEs naming, there is the obvious sense of dishonour which colours the name—at the same time, however, I get the sense that HCEs flippancy (cf. 'honest blunt Haromphreyld' (031.8-9) is supposed to be a joyous rebellion—the Irish 'up yours' to the idea both of a British ruler, but also of the associated suggestion of the destruction of independence.
Secondly, the historical references to Vikings and to the Low Countries as a whole resonates with the world of Beowulf.

031.11-28 Obviously I can't quote this entire sentence, but I thought this was a really important indication of the strangeness of Joyce's narratological approach here. This sentence has (on my count) around 25 clauses in it. And despite the proliferation of commas throughout, there is still a real sense of ambiguity as to the exact meaning of the sentence, especially when you consider that the first clause: 'Our sailor king' appears only to be taken up again on line 24, with 'remarked dilsydulsily'. So aside from the inventiveness that Joyce showcases in the language used, there is a further sense of difficulty created with the amount of detail one must retain just in reading a sentence.  From what I understand this is not a fleeting issue either; we're in for page long questions with one word answers when we get to the 'Night Letters'.

031.35-36: 'Are those their fata which we read in sibylline between the fas and its nefas?' This is an intriguing sentence. I'm assuming we're referring here to HCE still, although there could be some biblical/Egyptian Book of the Dead references as well. 'Fata' is the Latin fate, while '(ne)fas' are right and wrong or possible and impossible. My interest stems primarily from Joyce's inclusion of 'sibylline', which immediately raises in my mind an allusion to Coleridge's 1817 book of verse Sibylline Leaves. This also resonates then with Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass and the debates that have carried on over what the leaves stand for in the title. I guess what I'm trying to get to is that 'sibylline' implies the leaves of the book, which suggests that this sentence is far more indicative of the purposes of FW than we may first consider.

032.31,32: 'homedromed and enliventh' 'millentury': I'm most interested by the first quotation, which sounds suspiciously (and is glossed by McHugh as) 111. This is important because we've already stumbled across the significance of 1132, and the millentury (1100) previously. In English cricket, 111 is considered an unlucky score for a batsman, and is known as the 'Nelson', reputedly because Lord Nelson had one arm, one leg and one eye. Spectators watching a game where the batsman makes it to 111 are encouraged to stand upon one leg until the batsmen has moved on from that score. If you think I'm making it up, have a look at the Wikipedia link.

033.02 'veritable Napolean the Nth': a great name, and one that is absolutely appropriate for the man otherwise known as 'Here Comes Everybody' (032.18-19). A subtle reference to infinity by Joyce here, the number line being constituted by the equation n+1. Even HCE can't escape from the inevitability of Vico's ricorso.

As I said above, please comment on my ramblings and let me know where I've gone wrong! We're reading 033.14 to 036.34 meeting at 1 pm on the 16th of November. See you there. JG

Thursday, 20 October 2011

024.16 to 029.36

Greetings! We valiantly worked our way through more than five pages of the Wake this week. Although much of it (and especially 24 and 25) remained opaque, as usual the insights of the group were intensely valuable to trying to grasp (at least parts of) the whole. So, a few thoughts:

24 to 26: seem to incorporate four separate cosmologies/belief systems; the Buddhist, Islamic, Egyptian and Irish. Thus the onomatopoeiac 'clankatachankata' (024.23) combines, according to McHugh, the names of Buddha and Mohammed's horses. 025.05-9 incorporates the milk and honey of the Islamic heaven, whilst 'Totumcalmum' (026.18) is invoked amongst references to the Egyptian Book of the Dead. Perhaps most interesting, however, is the possibility of 'the Liffey that's in Heaven!' (026.08). This facilitates Joyce's allusion to Finnegan and the creation of Dublin, but also strikes me as congruent with the sometimes buried admiration for Dublin that I believe Joyce shows (I'm just about to finish reading Dubliners so perhaps I have the city on my mind.)

026.11-14: A series of allusions here to a mythical being, presumably Finnegan, of enormous stature, whose head is in the heavens, and whose feet are in Dublin. 'Copricapron' (026.12-13) not only incorporates a further astrological reference for the giant being's feet, but is very close to the Greek for 'pig shit'; so perhaps my assumption of Joyce's love for Dublin might not be as justified as I believe!

This section is also notable for the series of references to Twain's Huck Finn.

029.02 'buaboabaybohm' repeats the '4' motif that began to emerge earlier. This time we felt as if the cry was akin to the 'fee, fi, fo, fum' of the archetypal giant. We struggled, however, to incorporate the number of scales that seem to co-exist in this section.

For, less than a page earlier, we have the image of a female character, perhaps ALP, perhaps not, 'sewing a dream together' (028. 07). This appears, at the least, to allude to a growing awareness on ALPs part of the transgression of her husband. This transgression is laid out most clearly for us at the conclusion of Chapter 1, with 'Humme the Cheapner, Esc' (029.18-19) 'ensectuous from his nature' (029.30-31) and 'ultimendly respunchable for the hubbub caused in Edenborough.' (029.35-36).

HCEs trangression is 'cursed and recursed' and he was 'everseen'. (029.09). This suggest both Vico's cyclical view of the world, but the inevitable recourse of this novel, both in its overarching structure (viz. the first sentence continuing the last) but also the continued repetition that we have encountered (and, presumably, will continue to).

I'd be delighted in anybody would like to add some thoughts to my feeble readings. Please comment below.

Our next meeting will be on the 2nd of November, reading from 030.01 to 033.13. See you there! JG

Thursday, 6 October 2011

021.05 to 024.15

After the relative simplicity of last week we indulged (I would say) in a little bit of wallowing this week. Not to say that our meeting was without benefit, for it was completely the opposite.

We were examining the episode of Jarl van Hoother and the Prankquean, occurring immediately after the coming together of HCE and ALP for the first time in the text. It's still unclear to me if we are given a specific viewpoint over the course of this brief episode—the complexities had us chasing our tales/tails!

Thus, simply a few short observations:

21.18-9: 'Mark the Wans, why do I am alook alike a poss of posterpease?' is the first of a number of iterations of this phrase that introduce the drinkers (four?) knocking on the door of HCEs pub after closing time, asking for more drink. Over the next two pages this phrase is repeated two more times, incorporating a number of additions that make the phrase both static but simultaneously altered each time it is read. This repetition affirms the cyclical nature of the van Hoother/Prankquean section which, from 21 to 23 is reiterated three (or four?) times.

23.5-7 'Perkodhuskurunbarggruauyagokgorlayogromgremmitghundhurthrumathunaradidillifaititillibumullunukkunun' is the second 'thunder word' we encounter in FW. There are 11 throughout the text, the first 10 of 100 letters, the 11th with 101. {Check me out and see if I transcribed it correctly!} I was really excited to see in McHugh's Annotations that this thunder word is essentially the combination of a whole number of (generally) northern European words of thunder. Pretty simple really!

23.10 'flamend floody flatuous world'. I really like this phrase. I was initially most taken by the combination of flame and flood in the first two words of the phrase. I assume it indicated a kind of alchemical (Lou's word) explanation for the existence of Ireland, the combination of fire and water also being important in the van Hoother/Prankquean section. Interestingly enough, the four words produce not just two of the four elements, but all four (fire, water, air, earth). That is, if you're happy to accept that flatulence constitutes air.

23.23-4 'With lipth she lithpeth to him all to time of thuch on thuch and thow on thow.' Following on from Chris Eagle's very interesting seminar on speech pathology in FW, this sentence is important to us. It is the first summary of ALPs speech impediment which occurs throughout the novel. I'm pretty sure a recording of Chris' paper will be made available: definitely worth a listen. If I hear any more I'll post a link here.

24.7 'Unfru-Chikda-Uru-Wukru' appeared completely mystifying to me. McHugh glosses this phrase as Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker, our venerable pseudo-protagonist. As Chris demonstrated, it definitely sounds more like HCEs name when your first is in your mouth!

As always, please comment! Whether it be to tell me I've got it wrong or that I've missed something. There's very little chance I've got anything right!

Next meeting will be 19 October, reading 24.16 to 29.36. (and then onwards to Book I, Chapter 2!) JG

Thursday, 22 September 2011

018.17 to 021.04

I'd have to say that yesterday's meeting was the most productive we've had so far—as you can tell by the fact that we basically worked our way through just the  two and a half pages!

We emerge, perhaps still coming out of the 'museyroom', into a world that is suffering under god's punishment after he destroyed the tower of babel, calling forth different languages into the world. Hence we are asked if we are 'abcedminded' (018.17). We are introduced to the 'meandertale' (018.22) which appears to be the eternally present crime of HCE.

Pages 18 and 19 reinforce the sensation of the importance of language, especially noticeable in Joyce's extensive use of alliteration and assonance. In 018.24-29 the repetition of sounds emphasises (according to McHugh) the "Buddhistic 12-fold chain of dependent origination", which, funnily enough, begins and ends with 'ignorance' and implies a cyclical view of human society just like Vico's New Science.

The pre-history of Ireland continues on 19, with HCEs crime made parallel with the invasion of Ireland by the Vikings. We're also given a series of references to St Patrick, who drove the snakes (presumably both metaphorical and literal) out of Ireland. Of course, Joyce's mention of snakes is fitting, considering the ambiguities of HCEs indiscretion, considering what HCE might 'have in [his] handself'. (020.21). The snake, whilst alluding to the serpent of christian theology, may also refer to HCEs characterisation of ALP who is referred to as a 'snaky woman' a page or so later. (020.33)

019.20-30 contains, aside from HCEs crime, a series of numerical references which are still partially unclear to me. Most interesting is  019.20, which we didn't look at in the meeting: 'Axe on thwanks on thracks, anxenwise.' McHugh suggests there is a mathematical clue hidden here with the first three 'ex' sounds producing (x+x+x) and 'axenwise' equalling (x+y). Then, according to McHugh, (and I don't know where he gets the values from), if x=1 and y=36, then (x+x+x)(multipled by)(x+y)(=)111. Then the next sentence 'One by one place one by three dittoh and one before' (019.20-21) seems to produce the 3 and 2 that were crucial to us last time (viz. 013.33 and 014.11). These numbers also replicate the scene in Phoenix Park, which is the site of HCEs indiscretion.

This similarity then reinforces the importance of the parabolic image I was talking about in my last post, which is replicated in the mirror image sentences of 018.33 and 34: 'Here say figurines billycoose arming and mounting. Mounting and arming bellicose figurines see here.'

20 and 21 continue on with the focus on the alphabet, with a dual range of references to Islamic theology and the German language. Joyce manages to slip in 'no more virtue in the alocohoran' (020.9-10), whilst considering Guthenberg's invention (cf. 'Gutenmorg' 020.07).

Finally, as HCEs crime emerges into the world, it appears as if the first iteration of its telling occurs as well. After all: 'eerie whig's a bit of a torytale to tell.' (020.23) {Everyone one's got a bit of a story to tell.} The allusions to whigs and tory's refer, I believe, to Gulliver's main satiric focus in his Travels, although I wonder if there is an application to Irish politics as well. We end with ALP (perhaps having pecked her way to finding a letter) meeting up with HCE on 021.03-04.

Next week we'll read the tale of Jarl van Hoother and the Prankquean, from 021.05 to 024.14. Next meeting 5 October, same time and place, and hopefuly co-inciding with Chris Eagle's paper on the Wake from 11. Check the Writing and Society page, for more details (although this still indicates Chris' paper will be next week).

I'd love to hear your comments, and to use this forum to expand our reading even further. It'd be great if you could 'follow' this blog as well (I believe there's a button for it somewhere!) JG

Thursday, 8 September 2011

013.05 to 018.16

We're making some progress! Despite being over-ambitious in trying to read nine pages for this meeting, we did an admirable job to work through almost six.

The pages we looked at encompass what Joyce calls "the pre-history of Ireland" and the meeting of Mutt and Jute, respectively the Irish everyman and the Nordic invader.

13-14 seems to include a significant number of mathematical games, which are not immediately clear. So 013.14 "Dbln. W. K. O. O." hides a pseudo-mathematical pattern. As McHugh points out, if A=1, B=2, C=3 and so on, then DBLN (4+2+12+14) = 32. This then explains the following 'W. K. O. O.' because (23+11+15+15) = 64. So you double 'Dbln' to produce double the value of Dublin. Or something.

This produces further insight if we consider the dates that Joyce uses on 13-14: 1132 AD, 566 AD, a silent point, and the returning, up what I envisage as a parabolic figure, encased in the text. 1132 is double 566, but also includes other items of significance. According to Chris, 3 men and 2 women is the beginning of a society (hence relevant to the pre-history of Ireland) whilst the 11 signifies the beginning of a new society (as Lachlan pointed out, once you count to ten on your fingers you have to begin again). 1132 is also 4 times (x) 283 AD, the year that Finn MacCool died. fweet.org has a lot more to say on the motif of 1132.

I also really enjoyed the allusions to the Tower of Babel. 015.12-27 includes a series of references to the Babylonians, who were so proud of themselves that they sought to build a tower to the heavens. Of course, god didn't like this, and his punishment, aside from destroying the tower, was to scatter the tribes across the earth, and to give each tribe a different language, so that the world would be a confused place (still is...). This sensation is then partially repeated in the following paragraph (and across the dialogue between Mutt and Jute) as languages begin to clash; first with the shift from romantic language portmanteau's to linguistic references from the Low Countries. Just like Mutt and Jute struggle to find a common ground to understand each other.

We concluded with Lou and Miri reading the conversation between Mutt and Jute, which was hilarious.

For full and fair disclosure the Herald re-printed the Guardian's review of the Bowker biography of Joyce. Despite the unhappy headline, it is a more positive review. Find it HERE.

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, please comment below.

Next meeting will be 21 September, same time and place. We'll read from 018.17 to 023.16.

See you there! JG

Tuesday, 30 August 2011

007.20 to 013.04

Hi all, and apologies for the delay in posting again.

We met last Wednesday to read from 007.20 to 013.04, delving primarily into the history of the United Kingdom (and of Ireland) in the Wellingdone "museyroom". ("Mind your hats goan in!")

Aside from Wellington's "big white harse", a little bit the body, and a little bit his horse Copenhagen (thanks Jamie for this titbit), there remains, I believe, a bit of a conflict in this section. The conflict is in the multitude of settings that the reader is supposed to anticipate here: So, aside from the museum itself, the text also inhabits the dream of HCE, hence the "tip"ing at the window, the tapping of a tree branch against a window.

The martial allusions that Joyce pursues are more clear: from World War One references to the Battle of Philippi in 42 BC. The breadth of Joyce's allusions calls to mind another question for me though: if Joyce is not merely examining British (and Irish) martial history, then the museum is a much more extended space than we may have anticipated.

Aside from these questions, we liked the rhythm that Joyce produces on p. 8, both from ll. 11-14, in which he begins from a simple(ish) statement, then growing more complicated, before returning to some simplicity at the end, perhaps at odds to the counting of 010.32-34.

ALP's appearance (dreamed or otherwise) was our final focus of the reading. Lachlan explained the image of ALP as hen, pecking away at the scrap heap, in hindsight approximating the "tip" that Joyce repeats throughout the museum section. The lightning and thunder of p. 11 suggest a precursor to the fall of HCE that we're all anticipating; a fall that may perhaps be repeated eternally if a phrase such as "to steal out historic presents from the past postpropheticals" (011.30-31) is as significant as it appears.

Of course, there's not only cyclical views of history on show, but biblical allusions as well, as Noah's flood is made reference to shortly after. And finally we're left with the (despairing) exclamation "So This Is Dyoublong?", not just encapsulating some disappointment at the provincial nature of Dublin, but also asking do we belong?

As always comments are most welcome! I'd love some additions to my free association rambling!

A number of other notices:

Miri is doing a short performance as part of the UNSW postgrad symposium—a piece on Anna Livia, including excerpts from the Wake. On at the Dance Studio, Webster Building, 6:45, Friday 9 September.

A colleague, and potential reading group member, Chris Eagle, will be presenting a paper on the Wake to the Writing and Society Research Group on Wednesday the 28th of September from 11 to 12:30 in room 1.1.119, just down the corridor from where we meet.

Also, you may have seen a review of a new Joyce biography by Gordon Bowker, in Review. Not very positive—I'll stick with Ellmann for the time being! Review HERE.

We're reading from 013.05 to 021.04, meeting Wednesday 7 September at 1. Hope to see you there!

Friday, 12 August 2011

003.01 to 007.19 (!?!)

Greetings! I'm here to report on the first meeting of our Finnegans Wake reading group.

I must admit I found the whole process rather confronting. In my reading of the Wake in preparation I'd been keeping some pretty extensive notes, and was convinced that I'd built a pretty compelling take on the novel that put Nietzsche's concept of eternal return front and centre, albeit a reading that was based on a couple of introductory essays, and 16 pages of the actual text itself!

But...that's not really how it goes. The group reading allows (and promotes) a much more multifocal reading of the text. So, so much for my absolute interpretation.

I think I (we) learnt two things today. The first was that the Wake sounds great when you read it aloud. Even better than when you're reading it in your head. Lou was adamant before the meeting that reading it aloud pushes you into an Irish brogue, and Miri showed us that very effectively in what was definitely the highlight of the readings we heard. I also have a feeling, although I'll need to give this some more thought that the portmanteau words operate differently when they're spoken as opposed to when they're read. There's something in there about the operation of metaphor, and perhaps even the metaphoric nature of language, but I'll leave that for another time.

The other thing that was quickly obvious is that a knowledge of the narrative of the Wake may be quite important for reading the text. I was maintaining a (probably) naive view that I would hold out, and glean the narrative from the text. Our two most experienced campaigners were adamant, however, that recourse to the narrative is crucial in understanding the text. For a text that has simultaneously so many, and so few handholds, I daresay they're right.

Anyway, much more to learn, that's for sure. Next time (1 pm Wednesday 24 August) we'll reading from 007.20 to 013.04 (or thereabouts). Let me know your thoughts by signing up and commenting.

Hope to see you all next time! JG

Oh and have a listen to this. Dropkick Murphy's are always relevant!

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

No More Rumbling!

After much organisational to-ing and fro-ing, we begin the reading group tomorrow.

We are meeting at 1 pm, 10 August at UWS Bankstown, in the Writing and Society Research Group's new meeting room 1.1.131.

We're biting off more than we can chew—seven pages of the Wake. We're reading from 003.01 to 010.24. (Three digit page number, followed by two digit line number) I dare say the last word may feel very appropriate!

After our meeting I'll post a summary of what was discussed, and some of my thoughts on the section, for those playing at home.

JG