The handsome sixfoottwo rugger and soccer champion and the belle of Chapelizod quite charming in her oceanblue brocade with iris petal sleeves & an overdress of net darned with gold well in advance of the fashion. bunnyhugged scrumptiously in the dark where they dissimulated themself behind the chief stewardess’s cabin while with sinister dexterity he alternately rightandlefthandled on & offside fore and aft her palpable rugby and association bulbs. She murmurously asked for some but not too much of the best poetry quotations reflecting on the situation smthng a stroke above its a fine night and the moon shines bright and all to that for the plain fact of the matter was that by the light of the moon of the silvery moon she loved to spoon before her honeyoldmoon at the same time drinking deep draughts of purest air serene. He promptly then elocutioned to her a favourite lyrical bloom in decasyllabic iambic hexameter: Roll on, thou deep and darkblue ocean, roll!
The sea looked awfully pretty at that twilight hour so lovely with such wellmannered waves. It was a just too gorgeous sensation he being exactly the right man in the right place and the weather conditions could not possibly have been improved on. Her role was to roll on the darkblue ocean roll that rolled on round the round roll Robert Roly rolled round. She gazed while from an altitude of one yard 11½ in. his deepsea peepers gazed O gazed O dazedcrazedgazed into her darkblue rolling ocean orbs.
Nothing if not amorous. He then having dephlegmatised his frog in the guttur and getting busy on the touchline uttered what follows from his toploftical voicebox:
— Isolde!
By elevation of eyelids that She addressed insinuated desideration of his declaration.
— Isolde, O Isolde, when theeuponthus I oculise my most inmost Ego most vaguely senses the deprofundity of multimathematical immaterialities whereby in the pancosmic urge the Allimmanence of That Which Is Itself exteriorates on this here our plane of disunited solid liquid and gaseous bodies in pearlwhite passionpanting intuitions of reunited Selfhood in the higherdimensional Selflessness.
Hear, O hear, all ye caller herrings! Silent be, O Moyle! Milky way, strew dim light!
When he had shut his duckhouse the vivid girl reunited milkymouthily his her and their disunited lips and quick as greased lightning the Breton champion drove the advance messenger of love with one virile tonguethrust past the double line of ivoryclad forwards fullback rightjingbangshot into the goal of her gullet.
Now what do you candidly suppose she, a strapping young old Irish princess 18 hands high & scaling nine stone twelve in her madrapolam smock with not a thing under her hat but red hair & solid ivory and a firstrate pair of bedroom eyes, cared at that precise physiological moment about tiresome old King Mark, that tiresome old ourangoutan beaver with his duty peck & his bronchial trouble in his tiresome old twentytwoandsixpenny shepherd’s plaid trousers? Not as much as a pinch of henshit and that’s the meanest thing that was ever known in this wide world. No, far from it, if the real truth must be told lovingly she lovegulped his pulpous propeller and both together in the most fashionable weather they both went all of a shiveryshaky quiveryquaky mixumgatherum yumyumyum. After which before the traditional ten seconds were up Tristan considerately allowed his farfamed chokegrip to relax and precautiously withdrew the instrument of rational speech from the procathedral of amorous seductiveness.
— I’m real glad to have met you, Tris, you fascinator, you! she said, awfully bucked by the gratifying experience of the love embrace from a bigtimer with an interesting (T) tallow complexion from whom great things were expected like him who was evidently a notoriety also in the poetry department for he never saw an orange but he thought of a porringer and to cut a long story short taking him by and large he meant everything to her just then, her beau ideal of a true girl friend, handsome musical composer a thoroughbred Pomeranian lapdog, a box of preserved crystallised ginger clove cushions, peppermint slices, satinette puffs, lime tablets and may even the Deity Itself
Over them the winged ones screamed their glee, sea hawk, seagul curlew and plover kestrel capercailzie. All the birds of the sea they trolled out rightbold and they heard of the kiss of Tristan and Isolde. So sang sea birds..
— Three caws for for Mister Mark
Sure he hasnt got much of a bark
And sure any he has is all beside the mark.
O Wreneagle Highflighty would'nt it be a sky of a lark
To see that old busard whooping around in his shirt in the dark
And he hunting about for his speckled trousers in Palmerston park
O moulty Mark
Youre the rummest old rooster ever crawled out of a Noah's ark
And you think you're the cock of the walk.
Fowls up! Tristan's a spry young spark
That'll tread her and wed her and bed her and red her
Without even winking the tale of a feather
And that's how that chap's going to make his money and mark
The Four Waves of Erin also heard, leaning upon the staves of memory. Four eminently respectable old heladies they looked, got up in sleek holiday toggery for the occasion: grey half tall toque, tailormade frock coats to match, fathomglasses and soforth, you know, for all the worlds’ apart from the salt water like the fourth viscount Powerscourt or North the auctioneer at the royal Dublin socities annual horseshow. They had seen their share: the capture of Sir Arthur Casement in the year 1132, the Coronation of Brian by the Danes at Clonmacnois, the drowning of Pharaoh Fhitzharris in the (proleptically) red sea. The drowning of poor Mat Keane of Dunlearery, the scattering of the flemish armada off the coasts of Galway and Longford, the landing of St Patrick at Tara in the year 1798, the dispersal of the French fleet under General Boche in the year 2002. And such was their memory that they had been appointed lectern professors to the four chief seats of learning in Erin, the universities of killorcure, kill-them-all, killeachother, killkelly-on-the-Flure, whither they wirelessed four times weekly lectures in the four modes of history, past, present, absent and future. Saltsea widowers all four they had been many ages before summarily divorced by their respective shehusbands (with whom they had parted on the best of terms) by a decree absolute issued by Mrs Justice Squelchman in the married male offenders court at bohernabreena, one for inefficiency in backscraching, two for having broken rerewind without having first made a request in writing on stamped foolscap paper, three for having attempted hunnish familiarities after a meal of decompsed crab, four on account of his general cast of countenance. Though that was ever so long ago they could still with an effort of memory and by counting accurately the four periwinkle buttons of the fly of their knickybockies recall the name of the four beautiful sisters Brinabride who were at the moment touring the United States of Africia.
Yet were they fettersome and lured by the immortal rose of Wombman’s beauty, often would they cling tentacularly about the ships’ waists of the Northwall and Hollyhead boats and the Isle of Man tourist steamers, peering with glaucomatose eyes through the cataractic portholes of honeymoon cabins or saloon ladies’ toilet apartments. But when those jossers aforesaid, the Four Waves of Erin, heard the detonation of the osculation (cataclysmic cataglottism) which with ostentation (osculum cum basio necnon suavioque) Tristan to Isolde gave, then lifted they up round Ireland’s shores the wail of old men’s planxty:
Highchanted the elderly Waves of Erin, in four-part Palestrian melody, four for all, all one in glee of grief of loneliness of age but with a bardic licence, there being about of birds and stars and noise quite a sufficient quantity. This plashed their wavechant:
A birdless heaven, seadusk and one star,
low in the west
And thou, poor heart, love’s image, faint and far.
Rememberest
Her seacold eyes and her soft foamwhite brow
And fragrant hair,
Falling as through the silence falleth now
Dusk from the air.
A why wilt thou remember these.
A why,
Poor heart, repine,
If the dear love she yielded with a sigh
Was never thine!
Isolde, her longfamous lashes butterflykissing his near and farfamous cheek, felt him sweeter than cherry or plum, than candy kisses or Lipton’s fruitcake, than the hawthorn valley in the 1st fortnight of May, than the finest band music going, than lovely thick with the sleep. She murmured googooeyes:
— My precious since last we parted it seems to me that I have been continually in your company, even when I close my eyes at night. I am continually seeing you, hearing you, meeting you in different places so that I am beginning to wonder whether my soul does not take leave of my body in sleep and go to seek you and what is more find you or perchance this is only a phantasy. Tell me Daniel, my precious darling.
He, her whitehaired doughboy, Hero of tens of serums, carrier of the ovum, Kisser of hundreds, blocker of thousands, ejaculater of jugfuls, loudly sniffled, his nasal voice falling in strange ineffectual dropkick, so, in the language of diplomacy:
— Mais pourquoi es-tu andrée dans ma fie, Henritte S, je croyais mon âme déjà morte.
She lifted her head, her eyes supremely satisfied. For now she <knew> full well that he was a loveslave for life and she rather gathered from his persiflage that she was the one and not that mousy mop <with the> golliwog curls, Katiagnes O Halloran.
He, the gentleman, was sadvisaged. First he was a martyr to indigestion, rather liable to piles procured by sitting on stone walls where he contracted a stubborn cough while revelling in the beauty of nature and over and above that by medical advice of Dr Codd he had been lowering daily potions of extract of willow bark to keep off the Hibernian flu.
With feverish pallor indicating ?strong action of the higher seas on a teetotal stomach he beheld the holy ghosts of his undergradual loves, Henriette atop of the haycock, Nenette de l’Abbaye behind the taproom dor, Marie Louise all fun and fleas, tipsy Suzanne catch as catch can, and last but not least the rawboned housekeeper of the local parish priest ?Ghasthly, he pastloveyed her with a blackedged expression.
— Smiling Johnny, pleaded she gynelexically, do you keer for meemee just a weeny mossel?
Offsong and partially selfstrangled tried to reply he:
— Yes, lady, ?her ?uncle he replied brightly he brightly ?wrinkel replied after ??thinking ?it ?over, I am not worthy. You little know a man's ?past. Why were we born in two different places? Wherefore have we met yesterday so to speak? Why this strangulation, this yearning for a bonum arduum as distinguished from a bonum simpliciter? Will you accept a portion of my divided heart? Well away, alas, for death in, with, for and on account of my well beloved I mutely yearn.
— O, can that sobstuff! My own loverman must not talk like that, answered the bold puss impatiently after her waiting patiently all through the damned old dinner of burnt loinchops and ignoble potatoes with everybody talking from soup to nuts about loinchops and mashed murphies and the pig’s arse and cabbage the day before and they saying it wasn’t a patch on the silversides boiled cowbeef of the stewsday day before that again & the potroast with purpletop swedes and equally ignoble colicflower without a morsel of appetite when a plain bottle of porter and a gooseberry tart would have done her.
Love she wanted, the biggest obtainable, true new blind bottomless highspeed stunning staggerhumanity caveman love at first sight, the universal super jewel for which reason she again kissed him and he, being an inborn gentleman with a gift of blushing as well as of backgammon, counterkissed because it was his one maxim in this life that if a lady, for example, happened to have a ?libido <for> a bite of a piece of Stilton cheese and he happened, for pure argument’ sake, to have a quarter of a pound or so of feetynum Gorgonzola in his pocket why he’d just simply put his hand in his pocket, don’t you know, and well he’d just give her the cheese, don’t you see, to take a bite off.
However first & foremost, before testing her triangle to prove whether she was as the newspapers reported a virgo intacta, he asked her whether she had ever indulged in clandestine fornication with or without contraception.
— No, Nein, Never in God’s world, his almost aunt swore whilst she adhered to that big left shoulder of his, My privates innocent as the undriven snow. By the axecleft of my notch! By the hair of my dearest parents! By the inviolable devil of Ben Bulben! By the fresh water pullan herring of Neagh Loch [no] mortal plunderer has ever wandered, has ever beheld the hundred wonders of my underland.
Her mournful embracer pointed to the sidereal host. By them he bade her swear, ?if them that were and are and shall be the silently strewing, the strikingly shining, the twittingly twinkling and as he uranographically remarked the lamplights of lovers in the Beyond.
Up they gazed skyward to stardom while in his girleen’s ear that loveless lover, sinless sinner breathed:
— How gentlemanlike am I, Issy. I never hurt the feelings of another?
— And, ?Tris, what a sweet nature is mine, is not it?
It wasn’t exactly anything he said or it wasn’t anything he actually did but all the same it was something about him like the way he was always sticking his finger into his trousers pocket and then sticking it into his eye like a borny baby, the great big slob or the once she dropped her ittly ittly hankyfuss and the way so graceful he picked it up with his near hoof and footed it up so politefully to her ittly ittly nibblenose. She was tearing.
— Go away instantly, she roared, you scum!
— Perfect, he said, you bloody bitch.
He took French leave of her and circulated as bidden. Before many instants had passed she let out a whistle. Hearing his name called most sagaciously he ceased to walk about and turned on her, his look now charged with purpose seemed to say.
— Curse your stinking putrid soul to hell, you thing, and all belonged to you.
— No, come back, she ?ogled. Forget me not. I do so want you!
— It is perfect, her all but nephew said.
Having already stopped he turned and circulated in reverse direction and presently halted vis a vis his soon to be aunt who welcomed him as she said:
— How nobly you have responded to our call, loyal one.
[notes] [old]
(Most of the insertions are from ~January, so useless for dating.)
The handsome sixfoottwo rugger and soccer champion and the belle of Chapelizod quite charming in her oceanblue brocade with iris petal sleeves & an overdress of net darned with gold
These first paragraphs were known in manuscript, and survived into the final text in barely recognisable form. [more]
VI.A Penelope (July?) "awfully charming"
lost insertion: "with iris petal sleeves"
 |
| iris petal |
 |
| petal sleeve |
VI.B10.079f: "overdress of net darned with gold"
sheer overdresses
well in advance of the fashion. bunnyhugged scrumptiously in the dark where they dissimulated themself behind the chief stewardess’s cabin while with sinister dexterity he alternately rightandlefthandled on & offside fore and aft her palpable rugby and association bulbs.
"in advance of the fashion" goes back to 1843
"dissimulated" = posed?
VI.B3.039b: "they dissimulated themself (T & I)"
VI.A Eumeus (March?) "dissimulated himself behind door"
T&I are a single entity pretending not to be a single entity? (or viceversa?)
colors: blue, iris, gold
measures: sixfooter
FW2: "bunnyhugging scrumptious his... belle... behind the chieftainess stewardess's cabin, the hero, of Gaelic champion... with his sinister dexterity, lightandrufthandling vicemversem her ragbags et assaucyetiams, fore and aft, on and offsides, the brineburnt sexfutter, handson and huntsem, that was palpably wrong and bulbubly improper, and cuddling her and kissing her, tootyfay charmaunt, in her ensemble of maidenna blue, with an overdress of net, tickled with goldies"
She murmurously asked for some but not too much of the best poetry quotations reflecting on the situation smthng a stroke above its a fine night and the moon shines bright and all to that for the plain fact of the matter was that by the light of the moon of the silvery moon she loved to spoon before her honeyoldmoon at the same time drinking deep draughts of purest air serene.
top 50 poetry quotes per google
measures: a stroke ('stroke' is cognate with 'strike', used in many sports, also meaning fondle)
"all to that" phrase
("draughts" has an 'f' sound)
Thomas Gray: Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard: 'purest ray serene'
FW2: "she murmurously... gave her firm order... for a sings to one hope a dozen of the best favourite lyrical national blooms in Luvillicit, though not too much, reflecting on the situation, drinking in draughts of purest air serene... in the fair fine night, whilst the stars shine bright, by she light of he moon, we longed to be spoon, before her honeyoldloon, the plaint effect being in point of fact there being"
He promptly then elocutioned to her a favourite lyrical bloom in decasyllabic iambic hexameter: Roll on, thou deep and darkblue ocean, roll!
VI.B3.75c (May?): "lyrical blooms" (Wagner describing Mathilde Wesendonck's, ie ⊥'s, lyrics)
FW2: "favourite lyrical national blooms"
The sea looked awfully pretty at that twilight hour so lovely with such wellmannered waves. It was a just too gorgeous sensation he being exactly the right man in the right place and the weather conditions could not possibly have been improved on. Her role was to roll on the darkblue ocean roll that rolled on round the round roll Robert Roly rolled round.
VI.B3.68: "at the twilight hour" (from Schuré on Wagner)
"twilight" will get changed to midnight (cf "in the dark" and "by the light of the moon")
"wellmannered waves" is a naive anthropomorphic projection, that may or may not look ahead to the senile/impotent/voyeuristic Four Waves
google finds appropriate cites for "a just too" (and Henry James toyed with "just too")
Joyce later annotated these Issy-sentences as hypotaxis, in contrast to T's (Homeric) parataxis.
FW2: "listening, to Rolando's deepen darblun Ossian roll (Lady, it was just too gorgeous, that expense of a lovely tint, embellished by the charms of art and very well conducted and nicely mannered and all the horrid rudy noisies locked up in nasty cubbyhole!)"
FW2: "onasmuck as their withers conditions could not possibly have been improved upon (praisers be to deeseesee!)"
She gazed while from an altitude of one yard 11½ in. his deepsea peepers gazed O gazed O dazedcrazedgazed into her darkblue rolling ocean orbs.
Tristan will change from 6ft 2in to 6foot, Issy gets specified below as 6foot
47½ inches ≈ 4 feet... they'll be described in later drafts as seated
colors: blue, blue
measures: one yard 11½ in
FW2: "their role was to rule the round roll that Rollo and Rullo rolled round... breathtaking beauty, Bambam's bonniest... they did but get gaze... to hear him there, kissing her and cuddling her... from his elevation of one yard one handard and thartytwo lines, before the four of us, in his Roman Catholic arms, while his deepseepeepers gazed and sazed and dazecrazemazed into her dullokbloon rodolling olosheen eyenbowls"
Nothing if not amorous. He then having dephlegmatised his frog in the guttur and getting busy on the touchline uttered what follows from his [lofty] {toploftical} voicebox:
— Isolde!
By elevation of eyelids that She addressed insinuated desideration of his declaration.
"Nothing if not amorous" (but his amorousness is roleplaying, right? so maybe more-Nothing-than-amorous?)
was "having dephlegmatised his throat uttered"
"guttur" latin for throat (cf guttural)
"guttur... utter"
'frog-in-the-gutter' seems a bit distracting
VI.B3.118g (June?): "get busy"
"touchline" = sideline in rugby/soccer (because you're not supposed to touch it, right? but he's been freely handling her bulbs)
if he's preparing to speak, could it really be his hands getting busy? maybe nervousness?
"lofty" = tenor?
cf later: FW005 "titiptitoploftical"
FW2: "after having prealably dephlegmatised his gutterful of throatyfrogs... while the dear invoked to the coolun dare by a palpebrows lift left no doubt in his minder... the subjects being their passion grand... for the rosecrumpler, the thrilldriver, the sighinspirer, with that olive throb in his nude neck, and, swayin and thayin, thanks ever so much for the tiny quote, which sought of maid everythingling again so very much more delightafellay... the top loft of the voicebox"
— Isolde, O Isolde, when theeuponthus I [do] oculise my most inmost Ego most vaguely senses the deprofundity of multimathematical immaterialities whereby in the pancosmic urge the Allimmanence of That Which Is Itself exteriorates on this here our plane of disunited solid liquid and gaseous bodies in pearlwhite passionpanting intuitions of reunited Selfhood in the higherdimensional Selflessness.
(almost unchanged)
Wilde: De Profundis (Latin 'Out of the Depths')
FW2: "he was instant and he was trustin, sister soul in brother hand, the subjects being their passion grand... orhowwhen theeuponthus (chchch!) eysolt of binnoculises memostinmust egotum sabcunsciously senses upers the deprofundity of multimathematical immaterialities wherebejubers in the pancosmic urge the allimmanence of that which Itself is Itself Alone (hear, O hear, Caller Errin!) exteriorises on this ourherenow plane in disunited solod, likeward and gushious bodies with (science, say!) perilwhitened passionpanting pugnoplangent intuitions of reunited selfdom (murky whey, abstrews adim!) in the higherdiminsional selfless Allself"
Hear, O hear, all ye caller herrings! Silent be, O Moyle! Milky way, strew dim light!
When he had shut his duckhouse the vivid girl reunited milkymouthily his her and their disunited lips and quick as greased lightning the Breton champion drove the advance messenger of love with one virile tonguethrust past the double line of ivoryclad forwards fullback rightjingbangshot into the goal of her gullet.
Duckhouse is rarely a surname, a duck house is like a henhouse. If his mouth is the house, his tongue must be the duck...?
'duckhouse' appears in a number of Australian idioms, such as 'one up against the duckhouse' for something that baffles or defeats; 'upset one's duckhouse', upset one's plan; 'mind your own duckhouse', mind your own business. [cite]
"vivid girl" seems to be George Meredith's phrase
FW2: "For it was then a pretty thing happened of pure diversion mayhap, when her flattering hend, at the justright moment, like perchance some cook of corage might clip the lad on a poot of porage, handshut his duckhouse, the vivid girl, deaf with love (ah sure, you know her, our angel being, one of romance's fadeless wonderwomen, and, sure now, we all know you dote on her even unto date!), with a queeleetlecree of joysis crisis she renulited their disunited, with ripy lepes to ropy lopes (the dear o'dears!) and the golden importunity of aloofer's leavetime, when, as quick as greased pigskin, Amoricas Champias, with one aragan throast, druve the massive of virilvigtoury flshpst the bothlines of forwards (Eburnea's down, boys!) rightjingbangshot into the goal of her gullet."
Now what do you candidly suppose she, a strapping young old Irish princess 18 hands high & scaling nine stone twelve in her madrapolam smock with [nothing]{not a thing} under her hat but red hair & solid ivory and a firstrate pair of bedroom eyes,
"old Irish" can refer to a language or a people (Ulster Catholics?)
six feet tall, 138 pounds = slim (2" shorter than Tristan, for now)
muhDApoLAM fine cotton (isn't the "r" Hayman's?)
VI.B10.100e: "nothing under her hat but hair & solid ivory"
"nothing under her hat but hair" = dumb
"not a thing... but... solid ivory" hints at nudity
red hair from Livia Svevo? [cite]
colors: red, ivory
measures: eighteen hands, firstrate
VI.B10.102c (Jan?): "woman with bedroom eyes"
cared at that precise physiological moment about tiresome old King Mark, that tiresome old ourangoutan beaver with his duty peck & his bronchial trouble in his tiresome old twentytwoandsixpenny shepherd’s plaid trousers? Not as much as a pinch of henshit and that’s the meanest thing that was ever known in this wide world.
 |
| orangutan |
VI.A Eumeus "duty peck (kiss)"
(of the Four Waves, probably Matt expresses the least affection... and maybe also has the most expensive pants?)
chronic bronchitis is caused by smoking or breathing dust; Tristan has also "contracted a stubborn cough" and piles (below)
cf Art MacMurrough Kavanagh's weeping eczema (ROC seems healthy?)
FW2: "And now... as on manowoman do another... There was this, wellyoumaycallher, a strapping fine young modern old ancient Irish prisscess, so and so hands high, such and such paddock weight, in her madapolam smock, nothing under her hat but red hair and solid ivory... and a firstclass pair of bedroom eyes of most unholy blue... for one psocoldlogical moment... With that so tiresome old milkless a ram, with his tiresome duty peck and his bronchial tubes, the tiresome old hairyg orangogran beaver, in his tiresome old twentysixandsixpenny sheopards plods drowsers... The mainest thing ever! Since Edem was in the boays noavy."
No, far from it, if the real truth must be told lovingly she lovegulped his pulpous propeller and both together in the most fashionable weather they both went all of a shiveryshaky quiveryquaky mixumgatherum yumyumyum. After which before the traditional ten seconds were up Tristan considerately allowed his farfamed chokegrip to relax and precautiously withdrew the instrument of rational speech from the procathedral of amorous seductiveness.
FW2: "No, no, the dear heaven knows, and the farther the from it, if the whole stole stale misbetold, whoever the gulpable, and whatever the pulpous was, the twooned togethered, and giving the mhost phassionable wheathers, they were doing a lally a lolly a dither a duther one lelly two dather three lilly four dother. And it was a fiveful moment for the poor old timetellers ticktacking, to tenk the count. Till the spark that plugged spared the chokee he gripped and (volatile volupty... plipping out of her chapellledeosy..."
— I’m real glad to have met you, Tris, you fascinator, you! she said, awfully bucked by the gratifying experience of the love embrace from a bigtimer with an interesting (T) tallow complexion from whom great things were expected like him who was evidently a notoriety also in the poetry department for he never saw an orange but he thought of a porringer
 |
| fascinator = phallus amulet |
VI.B3.021d: "(Is) I'm so glad to have met you awfully bucked"
VI.B3.126b (June?): "love embrace"
 |
| tallow |
and to cut a long story short taking him by and large he meant everything to her just then, her beau ideal of a true girl friend, handsome musical composer a thoroughbred Pomeranian lapdog, a box of preserved crystallised ginger clove cushions, peppermint slices, satinette puffs, lime tablets and may even the Deity Itself
"clove cushions" were 'fiery red clove cushions, shiny hard squares with twisted corners that cleared your passages' [cite] 10¢/lb in 1892
 |
| peppermint slices seem to imply chocolate too? |
"satinette puffs" (the expression is still used in describing wedding dresses; satinette is a fabric, puffs must be part of a fancy dress?)
"lime tablets" = dissolve in water for vitamin C [cites]
colors: tallow, clove red? lime green?
her mind is racing, jumping from metaphor to metaphor
FW2: "the onliest one of her choice, her bleaueyedeal of a girl's friend, neither bigugly nor smallnice, meaning pretty much everything to her then"
Over them the winged ones screamed their glee, sea hawk, seagul curlew and plover kestrel capercailzie. All the birds of the sea they trolled out rightbold and they heard of the kiss of Tristan and Isolde. So sang sea birds..
[manuscript]
more birds: wren
— Three caws for for Mister Mark
Sure he hasnt got much of a bark
And sure any he has is all beside the mark.
O Wreneagle Highflighty would'nt it be a sky of a lark
To see that old busard whooping around in his shirt in the dark
And he hunting about for his speckled trousers in Palmerston park
O moulty Mark
Youre the rummest old rooster ever crawled out of a Noah's ark
And you think you're the cock of the walk.
Fowls up! Tristan's a spry young spark
That'll tread her and wed her and bed her and red her
Without even winking the tale of a feather
And that's how that chap's going to make his money and mark
"Wreneagle"
FW2: "Three quarks for Muster Mark! Sure he hasn't got much of a bark And sure any he has it's all beside the mark. But, O Wreneagle Almighty, wouldn't un be a sky of a lark To see that old buzzard whooping about for uns shirt in the dark And he hunting round for uns speckled trousers around by Palmerstown Park? Hohohoho, moulty Mark! You're the rummest old rooster ever flopped out of a Noah's ark And you think you're cock of the wark. Fowls, up! Tristy's the spry young spark That'll tread her and wed her and bed her and red her Without even winking the tail of a feather And that's how that chap's going to make his money and mark!"
The Four Waves of Erin also heard, leaning upon the staves of memory. Four eminently respectable old heladies they looked got up in sleek holiday toggery for the occasion: grey half tall toque, tailormade frock coats to match, fathomglasses and soforth, you know, for all the worlds apart from the salt water like the fourth viscount Powerscourt or North the auctioneer at the royal Dublin socities annual horseshow.
"toque" = any brimless hat, eg chef's (or? tall toque pic)
"apart from the salt water" stains
James H. North J.P., auctioneer and estate agent, 110 Grafton Street, Dublin
a later version of this Mamalujo section also survived into the published text [more]
FW2: "they were four dear old heladies and really they looked awfully pretty and so nice and bespectable with their grey half a tall hat and tailormade frock coat and after that they had their fathomglasses to find out all the fathoms and their half a tall hat, just now like the old Merquus of Pawerschoof... only for the extrusion of the saltwater or the auctioneer there... going to the tailturn horseshow"
They had seen their share: the capture of Sir Arthur Casement in the year 1132, the Coronation of Brian by the Danes at Clonmacnois, the drowning of Pharaoh [F]{P}hitzharris in the (proleptically) red sea. The drowning of poor Mat Keane of Dunlearery, the scattering of the flemish armada off the coasts of Galway and Longford, the landing of St Patrick at Tara in the year 1798, the dispersal of the French fleet under General Boche in the year 2002.
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| James 'Skin-the-Goat' Fitzharris |
 |
| 68yo in 1901 |
proleptic = anachronistic (so it hadn't gotten that name yet?)
FW2: "and then there was the drowning of Pharoah... into the sea, the red sea"
[manuscript]
And such was their memory that they had been appointed lectern professors to the four chief seats of learning in Erin, the universities of killorcure, kill-them-all, killeachother, killkelly-on-the-Flure, whither they wirelessed four times weekly lectures in the four modes of history, past, present, absent and future.
FW2: "the Flemish armada, all scattered... at about eleven thirtytwo... off the coast of Cominghome and Saint Patrick... and then there was the Frankish floot... under Motham-general Bonaboche... in his half a grey traditional hat... And then again they used to give the... lectures... in the four... grandest colleges... of Erryn, of Killorcure and Killthemall and Killeachother and Killkelly-on-the-Flure... the past and present... and present and absent and past and present and perfect... Ah, dearo dear! ...How it did but all come eddaying back to them... before the four of us, in his Roman Catholic arms"
Saltsea widowers all four they had been many ages before summarily divorced by their respective shehusbands (with whom they had parted on the best of terms) by a decrees absolute issued by Mrs Justice Squelchman in the married male offenders court at bohernabreena, one for inefficiency in backscraching, two for having broken rerewind without having first made a request in writing on stamped foolscap paper, three for having attempted hunnish familiarities after a meal decompsed crab, four on account of his general cast of countenance.
FW2: "they were all summarily divorced, four years before, or so they say, by their dear poor shehusbands... but still they parted... on the best of terms... By decree absolute... Mrs Dowager Justice Squelchman... at the Married Male Familyman's Auctioneers' court in Arrahnacuddle. Poor Johnny... because he was so slow to borstel her schoon for her... instead of backscratching her... proper... And poor Mark... because he forgot himself, making wind and water... and because he forgot to remembore to sign... a writing in request to hersute herself, on stamped brownanoleum... and too there was poor Dion... because... he attempted... some hunnish familiarities, after eten... a bad crab..."
Though that was ever so long ago they could still with an effort of memory and by counting accurately the four periwinkle buttons of the fly of their knickybockies recall the name of the four beautiful sisters Brinabride who were at the moment touring the United States of Africia.
colors: periwinkle (mauve)
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| knickerbockers |
VI.B3.73: "United States of Asia"
"United States of Africia" is a lovely rejected pun, taming Africa and wild-ing the USA
FW2: "four (up) beautful sister misters... and there they were always counting... the lovely mother-of-periwinkle buttons, according to the lapper part of their anachronism... and after that there now she was... the beautfour sisters, and that was her mudhen republican name... and they used to be getting up from under"
Yet were they fettersome and lured by the immortal rose of Wombman’s beauty, often would they cling tentacularly about the ships’ waists of the Northwall and Hollyhead boats and the Isle of Man tourist steamers, peering with glaucomatose eyes through the cataractic portholes of honeymoon cabins or saloon ladies’ toilet apartments.
"immortal rose" is from Yeats, maybe a pet mystical name for Maud Gonne?
womb-man
'tentacular' is a word meaning 'like a tentacle' so the Waves are also sea creatures
U157 had AE saying "Of the twoheaded octopus, one of whose heads is the head upon which the ends of the world have forgotten to come while the other speaks with a Scotch accent. The tentacles..."
VI.A Words "waist of ship"
But when those jossers aforesaid, the Four Waves of Erin, heard the detonation of the osculation (cataclysmic cataglottism) which with ostentation (osculum cum basio necnon [cum] suavioque) Tristan to Isolde gave, then lifted they up round Ireland’s shores the wail of old men’s planxty:
VI.A Words "osculum (cheek) basium (lips) suavium (tongue)"
VI.A Ithaca "cataglottism (dovekiss)" cataglottis = French kiss
"necnon" = and also
"planxty" from plangere
FW2: "they had their night tentacles and there they used to be... around the waists of the ships... the steamships and the women-o'-war... and their pair of green eyes and peering in... through the steamy windows, into the honeymoon cabins... and the saloon ladies' madorn toilet chambers... and rub off the salty catara off a windows and... listening... to see all the hunnishmooners and the firstclass ladies..."
[manuscript]
Highchanted the elderly Waves of Erin, in four-part Palestrian melody, four for all, all one in glee of grief of loneliness of age but with a bardic licence, there being about of birds and stars and noise quite a sufficient quantity. This plashed their wavechant:
Thus?
A birdless heaven, seadusk and one star,
low in the west
And thou, poor heart, love’s image, faint and far.
Rememberest
Her seacold eyes and her soft foamwhite brow
And fragrant hair,
Falling as through the silence falleth now
Dusk from the air.
A why wilt thou remember these.
A why,
Poor heart, repine,
If the dear love she yielded with a sigh
Was never thine!
(any evidence JAJ set his to music? barbershop quartetstyle???)
colors: white
[manuscript]
Isolde, her longfamous lashes butterflykissing his near and farfamous cheek, felt him sweeter than cherry or plum, than candy kisses or Lipton’s fruitcake, than the hawthorn valley in the 1st fortnight of May, than the finest band music going, than lovely thick with the sleep. She murmured googooeyes:
"lovely sleep" → "lovely [what?] thick with the sleep"
'Just because she made dem goo-goo eyes' ♬ [sheetmusic]
— My precious since last we parted it seems to me that I have been continually in your company, even when I close my eyes at night. I am continually seeing you, hearing you, meeting you in different places so that I am beginning to wonder whether my soul does not take leave of my body in sleep and go to seek you and what is more find you or perchance this is only a phantasy. Tell me Daniel, my precious darling.
VI.A Circe "perchance"
He, her whitehaired doughboy, Hero of tens of serums, carrier of the ovum, Kisser of hundreds, blocker of thousands, ejaculater of jugfuls, loudly sniffled, his nasal voice falling in strange ineffectual dropkick, so, in the language of diplomacy:
— Mais pourquoi es-tu andrée dans ma fie, Henritte S, je croyais mon âme déjà morte.
VI.A Words (July?) "doughboy"
"carrier of the ovum" how???
colors: whitemeasures: jugfuls
She lifted her head, her eyes supremely satisfied. For now she <knew> full well that he was a loveslave for life and she rather gathered from his persiflage that she was the one and not that mousy mop <with the> golliwog curls, Katiagnes O Halloran.
<anglebraces here indicate guesses at missing words>
VI.A Nausikaa "full well"
VI.B3.120 (May?) "persiflag" = joking, from French whistling (why do i hear dissembling/camouflage?)
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| 1895 |
[manuscript]
He, the gentleman, was sadvisaged. First he was a martyr to indigestion, rather liable to piles procured by sitting on stone walls where he contracted a stubborn cough while revelling in the beauty of nature and over and above that by medical advice of Dr Codd he had been lowering daily potions of extract of willow bark to keep off the Hibernian flu.
cf "while revelling in the beauty of nature" with par 2 above: "natural born lover of nature... revelling in the great outdoors"
With feverish pallor indicating ?strong action of the higher seas on a teetotal stomach he beheld the holy ghosts of his undergradual loves, Henriette atop of the haycock, Nenette de l’Abbaye behind the taproom dor, Marie Louise all fun and fleas, tipsy Suzanne catch as catch can, and last but not least the rawboned housekeeper of the local parish priest ?Ghasthly, he pastloveyed her with a blackedged expression.
— Smiling Johnny, pleaded she gynelexically, do you keer for meemee just a weeny mossel?
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| "strong"? |
colors: black
"gynelexically" = using womanwords
"do you care for me just a little" → "do you keer for meemee just a weeny mossel" morsel
(is "keer" irish as well as usa?)
Offsong and partially selfstrangled tried to reply he:
— Yes, lady, ?her ?uncle he replied brightly he brightly ?wrinkel replied after ??thinking ?it ?over, I am not worthy. You little know a man's ?past. Why were we born in two different places? Wherefore have we met yesterday so to speak? Why this strangulation, this yearning for a bonum arduum as distinguished from a bonum simpliciter? Will you accept a portion of my divided heart? Well away, alas, for death in, with, for and on account of my well beloved I mutely yearn.
"he replied" → "tried to reply he"
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| (cleaned up) |
— O, can that sobstuff! My own loverman must not [spe] talk like that, answered the [Dublin] {bold} puss impatiently after her waiting patiently all through the damned old dinner of burnt loinchops and ignoble potatoes with everybody talking from soup to nuts about loinchops and mashed murphies and the pig’s arse and cabbage the day before and they saying it wasn’t a patch on the silversides boiled cowbeef of the stewsday day before that again & the [roast] potroast with purpletop swedes and equally ignoble colicflower without a morsel of appetite when a plain bottle of porter and a gooseberry tart would have done her.
"puss" = girl, cat, cunt, mouth
"Dublin" broader than Chapelizod/Lucalizod
"Isolde" → "the Dublin puss" → "the bold puss"
"mossel... morsel"
alcohol and sugar?
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| gooseberries |
[manuscript]
Love she wanted, the biggest obtainable, true new blind bottomless highspeed stunning staggerhumanity caveman love at first sight, the universal super jewel for which reason she again kissed him and he, being an inborn gentleman with a gift of blushing as well as of backgammon, counterkissed because it was his one maxim in this life that if a lady, for example, happened to have a ?libido <for> a bite of a piece of Stilton cheese and he happened, for pure argument’ sake, to have a quarter of a pound or so of feetynum Gorgonzola in his pocket why he’d just simply put his hand in his pocket, don’t you know, and well he’d just give her the cheese, don’t you see, to take a bite off.
VI.B3.124 (May?) "Biggest possible"
Universal Studio's 'super jewel' productions had million-dollar budgets
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| backgammon in 1300 |
VI.A Ithaca "libido"
VI.B3.123 (May?): "Is – her libido"
VI.B3.126 (Jun?): "my libido (Is)"
"feetynum" yummy because smelly like feet
Bloom's Bloomsday lunch is a gorgonzola sandwich at Davy Byrne's U164-165 "the feety savour of green cheese"
However first & foremost, before testing her triangle to prove whether she was as the newspapers reported a virgo intacta, he asked her whether she had ever indulged in clandestine fornication with or without contraception.
— No, Nein, Never in God’s world, his almost aunt swore whilst she adhered to that big left shoulder of his, My privates innocent as the undriven snow. By the axecleft of my notch! By the hair of my dearest parents! By the inviolable devil of Ben Bulben! By the fresh water pullan herring of {Neagh} ?Loch [??Neagh] [no] mortal plunderer has ever wandered, has ever beheld the hundred wonders of my underland.
VI.A Circe "never in God's world!"
VI.A Circe "we adhere to you"
VI.A Eolus "that big left shoulder of his"
VI.A Circe "her privates"
Trollope among others used pure/white "as the undriven snow"
cf? VI.A Exiles2 "Fluchende Frau as long as my hole looks down?"
'Lough Neagh' [fweet-17]
plunder-wander-hundred-wonder-under
cf FW204: "Two lads in scoutsch breeches went through her before that, Barefoot Byrne and Wallowme Wade"
Alice in Wonderland
earlier above: "his useful arm getting busy on the touchline due south of her western shoulder"
measures: hundred
here the new discoveries supply a revised faircopy of the known material:
Her mournful embracer pointed to the sidereal host. By them he bade her swear, ?if them that were and are and shall be the silently strewing, the strikingly shining, the twittingly twinkling and as he uranographically remarked the lamplights of lovers in the Beyond.
"sidereal host" astronomical rather than biblical cliche
uranography = mapping the stars
VI.A Ithaca "uranographical"
"gynelexically... uranographically"
"the Beyond" was a 19thC cliche
2DV: "the twittingly twinkling, our true home and (as he uranographically remarked) the lamplights of lovers in the Beyond." the parens are dropped, and "our true home" is dropped or overlooked
VI.B3.75 "our true home" (from Shuré on Wagner)
Up they gazed skyward to stardom while in his girleen’s ear that loveless lover, sinless sinner breathed:
VI.B3.128h (June?): "girleen" (recycled in Mmlj's song and later FW397.04 "And there she was right enough, that lovely sight enough, the girleen bawn asthore")
[manuscript]
— How gentlemanlike am I, Issy. I never hurt the feelings of another?
— And, ?Tris, what a sweet nature is mine, is not it?
2DV: "—How gentle and kind I am, Issy. I never hurt the feelings of another. And I say, what a lovely nature is mine!"
The newly discovered faircopy is unambiguous that these are two separate speeches, although the questionmarks are debatable.
They seem pretty clearly to replace the dramatic Nightpiece poem with a moment of infantile mutual self-love.
It wasn’t exactly anything he said or it wasn’t anything he actually did but all the same it was something about him like the way he was always sticking his finger into his trousers pocket and then sticking it into his eye like a {borny} baby, the great big slob or the once she dropped her ittly ittly hankyfuss and the way so graceful he picked it up with his {near} hoof and footed it up {so politefully} to her ittly ittly nibblenose. She was tearing.
(can we reconstruct some link between finger and pocket and eye and baby and slob?)
FW584.13 "for fear he'd tyre and burst his dunlops and waken her bornybarnies making his boobybabies"
Danish barnebarn: grandchild
"ittly" cf Italy?
"near hoof" makes him a centaur?
VI.A Oxen "politeful"
VI.A Encounter "she was tearing (mad)"
or eyes watering?
he breaks the babytalk spell by using his foot
2DV: "It wasn't exactly anything he said or it wasn't anything he exactly did but all the same it was something about him like the way he was always sticking his finger into his trousers pocket and then sticking it into his eyes like a borny baby, the great big slob that she let out a whistle or the once she dropped her ittle hankyfuss and the way so graceful he picked it up with his hoof and footed it up politefully to her ittle nibblenose."
moved down: "that she let out a whistle"
— Go away instantly, she [cried] {roared}, you scum!
— Perfect, he said, you bloody bitch.
2DV: "— Go away from me instantly you thing, she roared. Curse your stinking putrid soul and all belonged to you, you scum. Forget me not!
— Perfect, you bloody bitch, he said."
VI.A Circe "you scum"
moved: "you thing", "Curse your stinking putrid soul and all belonged to you", "Forget me not!"
He took French leave of her and circulated as bidden. Before many instants had passed she let out a whistle. Hearing his name called most sagaciously he ceased to walk about and turned on her, his look now charged with purpose seemed to say.
"French leave" is inapplicable because she ordered him to go?
(moving the whistling makes it appear she somehow whistled his name?)
"instantly... instants" (recycled as "He was instant"?)
"sagaciously" he's still/again heroic
VI.A Exiles2 (June?): "?close to walk about" (cease?)
"turned on her" is very different from just "turned" in 2DV
VI.A Eolus "he crossed the room charged with purpose" (hint of static charge?)
cf ROC1: "he just went heeltapping round his own right royal round rollicking table... in strict order of rotation"
2DV: "He took leave of her and circulated as bidden. Hearing his name called before many instants had passed he most sagaciously ceased to walk about and turned, his look now charged with purpose."
— Curse your stinking putrid soul to hell{, you thing,} and all belonged to you.
— No, come back, she ?ogled. [Don't forget me!]{Forget me not!} I do so want you!
— It is perfect, her all but nephew said.
The cursing is now Tristan, still angry even after Issy has signalled reconciliation, or maybe he's intentionally rebuilding the wall between them?
VI.A Circe "you thing!"
 |
| 'ogled' might just be 'asked' |
VI.B3.81 "Don't forget me, Is cried"
VI.A Nausikaa "I so want you"
above: "his almost aunt"
2DV: "— Curse your stinking putrid soul to hell{, you thing,} and all belonged to you
— No, come back, she cried. How sweetly you have responded to us. I so want you!
— It's important, her nephew, who was very continental, said, stopped and circulated at walker's pace in an opposed direction."
moved far: "who was very continental"
VI.A Exiles2 (Apr?) "highly continental"
VI.A Nausikaa "he was very continental"
dropped: "at walker's pace" (again a horse/centaur?)
Having already stopped he turned and circulated in reverse direction and presently halted vis a vis his soon to be aunt who welcomed him as she said:
— How nobly you have responded to our call, loyal one.
everything seems to suggest they've pulled back from their betrayal of Mark
"he ceased to walk about... Having already stopped"
"in an opposed direction" → "in reverse direction"
"vis a vis" oddly formal
"welcomed him"
VI.A Circe "how sweetly you have responded to us"
"sweetly" → "nobly" (cf "ignoble" veggies, above?) is she knighting him?
"us" → "our call" (royal 'we'? engaged to King Mark)
"loyal one"
cf? VI.A Circe "backwards: tamer leaves cage"
cf VI.A Nausikaa "so she said she must go and he asked her why and she said she must really and he asked but why must she and she said really and truly she must"
2DV: "...How sweetly you have responded to us. I so want you!
— It's important, her nephew, who was very continental, said, stopped and circulated at walker's pace in an opposed direction."
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