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The online shorter Finnegans Wake (FW II.1, ch9)

NEW: At the end of each chapter there's a link to a chatboard for that chapter.

• Contents
• FW I.1 thru I.4, ch1-4
• FW I.5 thru I.8, ch5-8
• FW II.1, ch9
• FW II.2, ch10
• FW II.3 and II.4, ch11-12
• FW III.1 and III.2, ch13-14
• FW III.3, ch15
• FW III.4, ch16
• FW IV, ch17

Chapter nine is normally called Book Two Chapter One or II.1. It concerns a guessing game played at dusk by Shem, Shaun, and the Issies, assembled out of fragments of hundreds of traditional children's games, and framed as a play in a theater.

Joyce's first outline of the chapter was created in May 1926 (square brackets indicate sigla):

[ALP] night!
Driftwood on [ALP]. Trunkles. Contredanse. Hornies + Robbers. [Sotty] devil [Shem]. [Issy] angel [Shaun]. [Issy] prisoner. The guess. (Pascal). Tug of love. [Issy] falls. [Shaun-Shem] hide. [HCE] beholds. [28] chuchotant. [ALP] picks up. Croon Nasceià in melo. [HCE+ALP] ab. [rectangle] + [28] round dance. Mulberry Bush. Colin Maillard. [Shem] blindfold. [square]. [Mamalujo] vident.
[HCE] all in!

chuchotant = whispering (French)
Nasceià in melo = ???
Colin Maillard = blind-man's-bluff dance [video]
vident = they are seeing (Latin)

this plan was much changed by the time he finally began the first draft in October 1930, under the working-title "Chapelle d'Izzied". He complained to Harriet Weaver a month later that it had been squeezed out "like drops of blood" because of family worries, and for the next two years he did almost nothing. His enthusiasm was (barely) revived in August 1932 by Eugene Jolas's request to resume publication in transition.

we've gotten to know Shem and Shaun and Issy in Book One, but now they're seen as children with HCE and ALP looming parentally in the background: [fw]

Every evening at lighting up o'clock sharp and until further notice in Feenichts Playhouse... With nightly redistribution of parts and players by the puppetry producer and daily dubbing of ghosters... The Mime of Mick, Nick and the Maggies, adopted from the Ballymooney Bloodriddon Murther by Bluechin Blackdillain... featuring:

GLUGG (Mr Seumas McQuillad...), the bold bad bleak boy of the storybooks, who, when the tabs go up, as we discover, because he knew to mutch, has been divorced into disgrace court by

[fw]

THE FLORAS (Girl Scouts from St. Bride's Finishing Establishment...), a month's bunch of pretty maidens who, while they pick on her, their pet peeve, form with valkyrienne licence the guard for

IZOD (Miss Butys Pott, ask the attendantess for a leaflet), a bewitching blonde who dimples delightfully and is approached in loveliness only by her grateful sister reflection in a mirror, the cloud of the opal, who, having jilted Glugg, is being fatally fascinated by

CHUFF (Mr Sean O'Mailey...), the fine frank fairhaired fellow of the fairytales, who wrestles for tophole with the bold bad bleak boy Glugg, geminally about caps or puds... or something, until they adumbrace a pattern of somebody else or other, after which they are both carried off the set and brought home to be well soaped, sponged and scrubbed again by

FDV: the fairhaired who wrestles with the bad black boy about caps or something till the shadows make a pattern of somebody or other after which they are both scrubbed by

ANN (Miss Corrie Corriendo...), their poor little old mother-in-lieu, who is woman of the house, playing opposite to

HUMP (Mr Makeall Gone, read the sayings... in the programme about King Ericus of Schweden and the spirit's whispers in his magical helmet), cap-a-pipe with watch and topper, coat, crest and supporters, the cause of all our grievances, the whirl, the flash and the trouble, who, having partially recovered from a recent impeachment due to egg everlasting... is, studding sail once more, jibsheets and royals... engaged in entertaining in his pilgrimst customhouse at Caherlehome-upon-Eskur those statutory persons

[fw]

THE CUSTOMERS (Components of the Afterhour Courses at St. Patricius' Academy for Grownup Gentlemen...), a bundle of a dozen of representative locomotive civics, each inn quest of outings, who are still more sloppily served after every cup final by

SAUNDERSON (Mr Knut Oelsvinger, Tiffsdays off, ...torchbearing supperaape, dud halfsovereign...), a... spoilcurate, unconcerned in the mystery but under the inflounce of the milldieuw and butt of

KATE (Miss Rachel Lea Varian, she tells forkings for baschfellors, under purdah of card palmer teaput tosspot Madam d'Elta, during the pawses), kook-and-dishdrudge, whitch believes... the show must go on.

Time: the pressant...

Dances arranged by Harley Quinn and Coollimbeina. Jests, jokes, jigs and jorums for the Wake lent from the properties of the late cemented Mr T.M. Finnegan R.I.C... Accidental music providentially arranged by L'Archet and Laccorde...

[fw]

To start with in the beginning, we need hirtly bemark, a community prayer, everyone for himself, and to conclude with as an exodus, we think it well to add, a chorale in canon, good for us all for us all us all all.

(An echo in the theater?)

Songs betune the acts by the ambiamphions of Annapolis, Joan MockComic, male soprano, and Jean Souslevin, bass noble, respectively...

The whole thugogmagog, including the portions understood to be oddmitted as the results of the respective titulars neglecting to produce themselves, to be wound up for an afterenactment by a Magnificent Transformation Scene showing the Radium Wedding of Neid and Moorning and the Dawn of Peace, Pure, Perfect and Perpetual, Waking the Weary of the World.

An argument follows.

Chuffy was a nangel then and his soard fleshed light like likening... But the duvlin sulph was in Glugger, that lost-to-lurning... He was sbuffing and sputing, tussing like anisine, whipping his eyesoult and gnatsching his teats over the brividies from existers and the outher liubbocks of life...

Shem's philosophical unhappiness is allegorised as his inability to guess, in a children's game, the color of Issy's underwear:

Aminxt that nombre of evelings, but how pierceful in their sojestiveness were those first girly stirs, with zitterings of flight released and twinglings of twitchbells in rondel after, with waverings that made shimmershake rather naightily all the duskcended airs and shylit beaconings from shehind hims back... Mirrylamb, she was shuffering all the diseasinesses of the unherd of...

[fw]

If Arck could no more salve his agnols from the wiles of willy wooly woolf! If all the airish signics of her dipandump helpabit... could not that Glugg to catch her by the calour of her brideness! Not Rose, Sevilla nor Citronelle; not Esmeralde, Pervinca nor Indra; not Viola even nor all of them four themes over. But... I am (twintomine) all thees thing... What is that, O holytroopers? Isot givin yoe?

...Arrest thee, scaldbrother! came the evangelion, sabre accusant, from all Saint Joan's Wood to kill or maim him, and be dumm but ill s'arrested...

JAJ to HSW, 22 Nov 1930: "The scheme of the piece... is the game we used to call Angels and Devils or colours. The Angels, girls, are grouped behind the Angel, Shawn, and the Devil has to come over three times and ask for a colour. If the colour he asks for has been chosen by any girl she has to run and he tries to catch her... The piece is full of rhythms taken from English singing games..."

Shaun wants to save Issy from the wolf (Shem) but Issy is more ambivalent. ('Holytroopers' almost gives the color-- heliotrope-- away.) Shem wracks his brain, scours the four corners of the world:

A space. Who are you? The cat's mother. A time. What do you lack? The look of a queen.

But what is that which is one going to prehend? Seeks, buzzling is brains, the feinder.

...A darktongues, kunning. O theoperil! Ethiaop lore, the poor lie. He askit of the hoothed fireshield but it was untergone into the matthued heaven. He soughed it from the luft but that bore ne mark ne message. He luked upon the bloomingrund where ongly his corns were growning. At last he listed back to beckline how she pranked alone so johntily. The skand for schooling.

With nought a wired from the wordless either... Towhere byhangs ourtales.

He hallucinates hearing his dead mother's last requests: [fw] [italics added]

Ah ho! This poor Glugg! It was so said of him about of his old fontmouther. Truly deplurabel! A dire, O dire! ...she sprankled his allover with her noces of interregnation: How do you do that lack a lock and pass the poker, please? And bids him tend her, lute and airly. Sing, sweetharp, thing to me anone! So that Glugg, the poor one, in that limbopool which was his subnesciousness he could scares of all knotknow whither his morrder had bourst a blabber or if the vogalstones that hit his tynpan was that mearly his skoll missed her...

Maybe: He tries to spy on the Floras' undies, then asks them for a hint but they cut him cold (quite like Dante in Vita Nuova): [Italian]

The youngly delightsome frilles-in-pleyurs are now showen drawen, if bud one, or, if in florileague, drawens up consociately at the hinder sight of their commoner guardian. Her boy fiend or theirs, if they are so plurielled, cometh up as a trapadour, sinking how he must fand for himself by gazework what their colours wear as they are all showen drawens up...

He will angskt of them from their commoner guardian at next lineup (who is really the rapier of the two though thother brother can hold his own, especially for he bandished it with his hand the hold time...), and reloose that thong off his art: Hast thou feel liked carbunckley ones?

bander = to have erection (French, cf 'branlish' = masturbate, in Museyroom vignette) [qv]
carbuncle = a deep red gem

[fw]

Apun which his poohoor pricoxity theirs is a little tittertit of hilarity... and the wordchary is atvoiced ringsoundinly by their toots ensembled, though not meaning to be clever, but just with a shrug of their hips to go to troy and harff a freak at himself by all that story to the ulstramarines. Otherwised, holding their noises, they insinuate quiet private, Ni, he make peace in his preaches and play with esteem.

McH: he may piss in his breeches & play with the steam

On another level, this is a game of courtship, but Shem is shy:

...As Rigagnolina to Mountagnone, what she meaned he could not can. All she meaned was golten sylvup, all she meaned was some Knight's ploung jamn. It's driving her dafft like he's so dumnb. If he'd lonely talk instead of only gawk... and if he woold nut wolly so! Hee. Speak, sweety bird...!

As in most guessing games, he gets three tries:

-- Have you monbreamstone?
-- No.
-- Or Hellfeuersteyn?
-- No.
-- Or Van Diemen's coral pearl?
-- No.

He has lost. Off to clutch, Glugg! ...Foreweal!

Ring we round, Chuff! Fairwell! Chuffchuff's inners even. All's rice with their whorl!

Issy, though, feels she's lost a lover-- she'd fading. But out of that loss will come a husband... Shaun:

Yet, ah tears, who can her mater be? She's promised he'd eye her. To try up her pretti. But now it's so longed and so fared... Jerry for jauntings. Alabye! Fled...

[fw]

The pearlagraph, the pearlagraph, knew whitchly whether to weep or laugh...

Poor Isa sits a glooming so gleaming in the gloaming... Hey, lass! Woefear gleam she so glooming, this pooripathete I solde? Her beauman's gone of a cool. Be good enough to symperise. If he's at anywhere she's therefor to join him. If it's to nowhere she's going to too...

She is fading out like Journee's clothes so you can't see her now. Still we know how Day the Dyer works, in dims and deeps and dusks and darks. And among the shades that Eve's now wearing she'll meet anew fiancy, tryst and trow. Mammy was, Mimmy is, Minuscoline's to be... The same renew. For though she's unmerried she'll after truss up and help that hussyband how to hop. Hip it and trip it and chirrub and sing. Lord Chuffy's sky sheraph and Glugg's got to swing.

The rainbow girls do a double-rainbow dance:

So and so, toe by toe, to and fro they go round, for they are the ingelles, scattering nods as girls who may, for they are an angel's garland.

Catchmire stockings, libertyed garters, shoddyshoes, quicked out with selver. Pennyfair caps on pinnyfore frocks and a ring on her fomefing finger. And they leap so looply, looply, as they link to light. And they look so loovely, loovelit, noosed in a nuptious night...

R is Rubretta and A is Arancia, Y is for Yilla and N for greeneriN. B is Boyblue with odalisque O while W waters the fleurettes of novembrance. Though they're all but merely a schoolgirl yet these way went they.

I' th' view o' th'avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. Miss Oodles of Anems before the Luvium doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. And miss Endles of Eons efter Dies of Eirae doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. The many wiles of Winsure.

JAJ to HSW 22 Nov 1930: "...Note especially the treatment of the double rainbow in which the iritic colours are first normal and then reversed."

Double-rainbows descend into a shadow-space before returning in reverse order to the light (this is good scientific optics [pic source]).

Their shadow-secrets here may include theft, uncleanliness, alcoholism, poverty, timidity, superstition, triviality, stinginess, spite, and who knows what all: [fw]

The grocer's bawd she slips her hand in the haricot bag, the lady in waiting sips her sup from the paraffin can, Mrs Wildhare Quickdoctor helts her skelts up the casuaway the flasht instinct she herds if a tinkle of tunder, the widow Megrievy she knits cats' cradles, this bountiful actress leashes a harrier under her tongue, and here's the girl who she's kneeled in coldfashion and she's told her priest (spt!) she's pot on a chap (chp!)

FDV: she spat on a chop

and this lass not least, this rickissime woman, who she writes foot fortunes money times over in the nursery dust with her capital thumb. Buzz.

FDV: and this lass not least she's a very rich woman who she writes her fortunes big times over in the nursery dust with her capital toe.

All runaway sheep bound back bopeep, trailing their teenes behind them. And these ways wend they. And those ways went they. Winnie, Olive and Beatrice, Nelly and Ida, Amy and Rue. Here they come back, all the gay pack, for they are the florals, from foncey and pansey to papavere's blush, foresake-me-nought, while there's leaf there's hope, with primtim's ruse and marrymay's blossom, all the flowers of the ancelles' garden.

Frustration drives Shem to violate the seven sacraments. (Brother Stannie wrote of James in 1904, "he is trying to commit the sin against the Holy Ghost for the purpose of getting outside the utmost rim of Catholicism"):

But vicereversing thereout from those palms of perfection to anger arbour... what tornaments of complementary rages rocked the divlun... as he displaid all the oathword science of his visible disgrace. He was feeling so funny and floored for the cue, all over which girls as he don't know whose hue. If goosseys gazious would but fain smile him a smile he would be fondling a praise he ate some nice bit of fluff. But no geste reveals the unconnouth. They're all odds against him, the beasties. Scratch. Start.

He dove his head into Wat Murrey, gave Stewart Ryall a puck on the plexus... excremuncted as freely as any frothblower into MacIsaac, had a belting bout... with McAdoo about nothing...

He threatens to go into exile, declare his own utopia, and tell his parents' sexual secrets (ie, to write Ulysses): [fw]

Allwhile... he swure... He would split. He do big squeal like holy Trichepatte... He would, with the greatest of ease... fire off... his farced epistol to the hibruws... Go in for scribenery... and inform to the old sniggering publicking press and its nation of sheepcopers about the whole plighty troth between them, malady of milady made melodi of malodi, she, the lalage of lyonesses, and him, her knave arrant... For all within crystal range...

He would bare to untired world... how wholefallows, his guffer... had a great big oh in the megafundum of his tomashunders and how her Lettyshape, his gummer... she had never cessed at waking malters among the jemassons since the cluft that meataxe delt her made her microchasm as gap as down low...

He would jused sit it all write down... in blotch and void, yielding to no man in hymns ignorance, seeing how heartsilly sorey he was... And, reading off his fleshskin and writing with his quillbone, fillfull ninequires with it for his auditers, Caxton and Pollock, a most moraculous jeeremyhead sindbook for all the peoples... about whose told his innersense... and why he was off colour and how he was ambothed upon by the very spit of himself, first on the cheekside by Michelangelo and, besouns thats, over on the owld jowly side by Bill C. Babby, and... why they... eggspilled him out of his... domum... and the best and schortest way of blacking out a caughtalock of all the sorrors of Sexton

JAJ to HSW, 22 Nov 1930: "...When first baffled vindictively he thinks of publishing blackmail stuff about his father, mother etc etc etc...."

He foresees that someday he'll be reunited with Issy: [fw]

until he would accoster her... at their trist in Parisise after tourments of tosend years... He would si through severalls of sanctuaries... so as to meet somewhere... payment in goo to slee music and poisonal comfany, following which... she could have all the g.s.M. she moohooed after... while he, being brung up on soul butter, have recourse of course to poetry. With tears for his coronaichon, such as engines weep. Was liffe worth leaving? Nej!

McH: g.s.M. = go-to-sleep music

(this seems to refer to the chaste romance of "A Painful Case" [qv] as well as the Tristan vignette [qv].)

Remembering his comparatively comfortable childhood turns him maudlin (and he cites a verse Joyce wrote as a child):

...Arty, reminiscensitive... dreaming largesse of lifesighs over early lived offs... Remember thee, castle throwen? Ones propsperups treed, now stohong baroque. And oil paint use a pumme if yell trace me there title to where was a hovel not a havel (the first rattle of his juniverse)... while itch ish shome.

[fw]

-- My God, alas, that dear olt tumtum home
Whereof in youthfood port I preyed
Amook the verdigrassy convict vallsall dazes.
And cloitered for amourmeant in thy boosome shede!

JAJ to HSW, 22 Nov 1930: "...When first baffled vindictively he thinks of publishing blackmail stuff about his father, mother etc etc etc. The second time he maunders off into sentimental poetry of what I actually wrote at the age of nine: 'My cot alas that dear old shady home where oft in youthful sport I played, upon thy verdant grassy fields all day or lingered for a moment in thy bosom shade etc etc etc etc.' This is interrupted by a violent pang of toothache after which he throws a fit..." ('cot' = cottage)

This unguarded thought of home momentarily causes self-doubt, and a horrible toothache (cf HCE's stutter):

His mouthfull of ecstasy... herepong (maladventure!) shot pinging up through the errorooth of his wisdom... as thought it had been zawhen intwo. Wholly sanguish blooded up disconvulsing the fixtures of his fizz.... Like gnawthing unheardth!

But... after at he had bate his breastplates... forforgetting his birdsplace, it was soon... that he rehad himself. By a prayer? No, that comes later. By contrite attrition? Nay, that we passed. Mid esercizism? So is richt.

McH: exorcism, asceticism

And it was so. And Malthos Moramor resumed his soul... He threwed his fit up to his aers, rolled his poligone eyes, snivelled from his snose and blew the guff out of his hornypipe... Lookery looks, how he's knots in his entrails! Mookery mooks, it's a grippe of his gripes. Seekeryseeks, why his biting he's head off? ...The worst is over. Wait!

This dark teatime of the soul passes quickly, and Shem is re-inspired, perceiving (hallucinating?) Issy-Isolde to be sending him (as her Tantris) a coded message of love, despite her forced marriage to Mark/Shaun: [fw]

...When (pip!) a message interfering intermitting interskips from them (pet!) on herzian waves... a butterfly from her zipclasped handbag, a wounded dove astarted from, escaping out her forecotes. Isle wail for yews, O doherlynt!

McH: I'll wait for you, O darling!

The poetesser. And around its scorched cap she has twilled a twine of flame to let the laitiest know she's marrid... What saying? I have soreunder from to him now, dearmate ashore, so, so compleasely till I can get redressed, which means the end of my stays in the languish of Tintangle. Is you zealous of mes, brother? ...Can that sobstuff, whingeywilly! Stop up, mavrone, and sit in my lap, Pepette, though I'd much rather not... Decoded.

Now a run for his money! Now a dash to her dot! ...Like... a sos to a coastguard. For directly with his whoop, stop and an upalepsy... was he again, agob, before the trembly ones, a spark's gap off... shaking the storm out of his hiccups... Goal!

[fw]

...Angelinas, hide from light those hues that your sin beau may bring to light! Though down to your dowerstrip he's bent to knee he maun't know ledgings here...

He is guessing at hers for all he is worse, the seagoer. Hark to his wily geeses goosling by, and playfair, lady! ...For he faulters how he hates to trouble them without.

But... making a bolderdash for lubberty of speech he asks not have you seen a match being struck nor is this powder mine but, letting punplays pass to ernest:

-- Haps thee jaoneofergs?
-- Nao.
-- Haps thee mayjaunties?
-- Naohao.
-- Haps thee per causes nunsibellies?
-- Naohaohao.
-- Asky, asky, asky! Gau on! Micaco! Get!

(this echoes Edy-and-Cissy's teasing questions to little Tommy-- who just needs to pee-- in Nausikaa) [qv]

...And he did a get, their anayance, and slink his hook away... He had his sperrits all foulen on him... he was bedizzled and debuzzled... and looked like bruddy Hal...

The Floras drive Shem off, and do a dance to Shaun: [fw]

But, Sin Showpanza, could anybroddy which walked this world with eyes whiteopen have looked twinsomer than the kerl he left behind him? ...Of all the green heroes everwore coton breiches, the whitemost, the goldenest! How he stud theirs with himselfs mookst kevinly... inwreathed of his near cissies, a mickly dazzly eely oily... with his gamecox spurts and his smile likequid glue... whiles his host of spritties... they went peahenning... around him... quite purringly excited... allauding to him by all the licknames in the litany... and sending him perfume most praypuffs... that he, the finehued, the fairhailed, the farahead, might bouchesave unto each but everyone... the havemercyonhurs of his kissier licence...

[fw]

A pause. Their orison arises misquewhite as Osman glory, ebbing wasteward, leaves to the soul of light its fading silence (allahlah lahlah lah!), a turquewashed sky. Then:

-- Xanthos! Xanthos! Xanthos! We thank to thine, mighty innocent, that diddest bring it off fuitefuite.

JAJ to HSW 22 Nov 1930: "...As far as I have written he has come twice and been twice baffled... When he is baffled a second time the girl angels sing a hymn of liberation around Shawn..."

Like Bloom at the end of Ulysses [qv] (and like Shaun in III.2, which this echoes [qv]), they picture a future of well-off domesticity:

Should in ofter years it became about you will... becoming a bank midland mansioner we and I shall reside with our obeisant servants among Burke's mobility at La Roseraie, Ailesbury Road... we'll save up ourselves and nab what's nicest and boskiest of timber trees in the nebohood... We'll have our private palypeachum pillarposterns for lovesick letterines fondly affianxed to our front railings and swings, hammocks, tighttaught balletlines, accomodationnooks and prismic bathboites, to make Envyeyes mouth water and wonder when they binocular us from their embrassured windows in our garden rare. Fyat-Fyat shall be our number on the autokinaton and Chubby in his Chuffs oursforownly chuffeur...

Lady Marmela Shortbred will walk in for supper with her marchpane switch on, her necklace of almonds and her poirette Sundae dress with bracelets of honey and her cochineal hose with the caramel dancings, the briskly best from Bootiestown, and her suckingstaff of ivorymint. You mustn't miss it or you'll be sorry...

[fw]

And the Prince Le Monade has been graciously pleased. His six chocolate pages will run bugling before him and Cococream toddle after with his sticksword in a pink cushion. We think His Sparkling Headiness ought to know Lady Marmela... Thej olly and thel ively, thou billy with thee coo, for to jog a jig of a crispness nice and sing a missal too. Hip champouree! Hiphip champouree! ...Anneliuia!

They become flowers yearning for his pollen:

...Just so stylled... are their flowerheads now and each of all has a lovestalk onto herself and the tot of all the tits of their understamens is as open as he can posably she and is tournesoled... towooerds him in heliolatry, so they may catchcup in their calyzettes... those parryshoots from his muscalone pistil, for he can eyespy through them, to their selfcolours, nevertheleast their tissue peepers... as leichtly as see saw (O my goodmiss! O my greatmess! O my prizelestly preshoes!) while, dewyfully as dimb dumbelles, all alisten to his elixir. Lovelyt!

[fw]

And they said to him:

-- Enchainted, dear sweet Stainusless, young confessor, dearer dearest, we herehear... thee salutamt... deliverer of softmissives, round the world in forty mails, bag, belt and balmybeam... when you will be after doing all your sightseeing and soundhearing and smellsniffing and tastytasting and tenderumstouchings in all Daneygaul, send us, your adorables... a wise and letters play of all you can ceive... from your holy post now you hast ascertained ceremonially our names. Unclean you art not. Outcaste thou are not... your intercourse at ninety legsplits does not defile... You are pure. You are pure... You have not brought stinking members into the house of Amanti... Return, sainted youngling, and walk once more among us! ...The Great Cackler comes again.

(This prayer should be understood in the context that Tut's tomb had been discovered in 1922, and Europe was Egypt-intoxicated.)

They want him to remain pure even as they beg him to deflower them:

Sweetstaker, Abel lord of all our haloease, we... were drawpairs with two pinmarks, BVD and BVD dot, so want lotteries of ticklets posthastem (you appreciate?) so as to be very dainty... of and on, to and for, by and with, from you... We will be constant (what a word!) and bless the day, for whole hours too, yes, for sold long syne as we shall be heing in our created being of ours elvishness, the day you befell, you dreadful temptation!

[fw]

Now promisus as at our requisted you will remain ignorant of all what you hear and, though if whilst disrobing to the edge of risk... draw a veil till we next time! You don't want to peach but bejimboed if ye do! Perhelps. We ernst too may. How many months or how many years till the myriadth and first become! Bashfulness be tupped! May he colp, may he colp her, may he mixandmass colp her!

...The mything smile of me, my wholesole assumption... that I love like myselfish, like smithereens robinsongs... like the blue of the sky if I stoop for to spy's between my whiteyoumightcallimbs... Will bee all buzzy one another minnies for the mere effect that you are so fuld of pollen yourself... We feel unspeechably thoughtless over it all here in Gizzygazelle... so pleasekindly communicake with the original sinse we are only yearning as yet how to burgeon.

[fw]

It's meant milliems of centiments deadlost or mislaid on them but, master of snakes, we can sloughchange in the nip of a napple solongas we can allsee for deedsetton your quick... Behose our handmades for the lured! To these nunce we are but yours in ammatures yet well come that day we shall ope to be ores. Then shalt thou see, seeing, the sight. No more hoaxites! Nay more gifting in mennage!

...These bright elects... were waltzing up their willside with their princesome handsome angeline chiuff while in those wherebus... oaths and screams and bawley groans with a belchybubhub and a hellabelow bedemmed and bediabbled the arimaining lucisphere... For poor Glugger was dazed and late in his crave, ay he, laid in his grave.

A confusing view of Shem (HCE?): [fw]

But low, boys low, he rises, shrivering, with his spittyful eyes and his whoozebecome woice... Examen of conscience scruples now he to the best of his memory schemado... Trinitatis kink had mudded his dome, peccat and pent fore, pree... born of thug tribe into brood blackmail... He, praise Saint Calembaurnus, make clean breastsack of goody girl now as ever drank milksoep from a spoen, weedhearted boy of potter and mudder, chip of old Flinn the Flinter, twig of the hider that tanned him. He go calaboosh all same he tell him out...

McH: he'll tell the whole story even if he has to go to jail (pidgin: calaboosh) for it

Shem says Father HCE offered candy to little girls:

He, A.A., in peachskin shantungs, possible... notwithstanding... he gaining fish considerable, by saving grace after avalunch, to look most prophitable out of smily skibluh eye... Big dumm crumm... coaxyorum a pennysilvers offarings... candid zuckers... in presents to lilithe maidinettes... with pruriest pollygameous inatentions... and everybody... knew Meistral Wikingson... have his ignomen ... of being Master Milchku, queerest man in the benighted queendom, and... how he found the kids.

But the other charges are all tommyrot-- he's an upstanding householder, innocent as a baby: [fw]

Other accuse him... purely simply tammy ratkins... Such askors... is alse false liarnels... In his contrary... this Mr Heer Assassor Neelson... live with howthold of nummer seven... senest mangy years... and got a daarlingt babyboy bucktooth... coming on... gracies to goodess, at 81. That why all parks up excited about his gunnfodder...

But it sounds finally like he's guilty of sodomising Shem? [fw]

Old grand tuttut toucher up of young poetographies and he turn aroundabrupth red altfrumpishly... falls some make one noise.

FDV: he turn round quick red allmaidishly if some make one noise.

It's his last lap, Gigantic, fare him weal! Revelation! A fact. True bill. By a jury of matrons. Hump for humbleness, dump for dirts. And, to make a long stoney badder... his Thing went the wholyway retup Suffrogate Strate.

FDV: And his thing went the whole way up Suffogate Street.

maybe: Mother ALP was perpetually angry about her early deflowering but divorce ('owner of thyself') never enters her mind:

Helpmeat too... his fiery goosemother... woman who did, he tell princes of the age about... She just as fenny as he is fulgar... Psing a psalm of psexpeans, apocryphul of rhyme! ...his Kuran never teachit her the be the owner of thyself. So she not swop her eckcot hjem for Howarden's Castle, Englandwales... Who not knows she, the Madame Cooley-Couley, spawife to laird of manna, when first come into the pictures... factory fresh and fiuming at the mouth, wronged by Hwemwednoget (magrathmagreeth, he takable a rap for that early party) and whenceforward Ani Mama and her fiertey bustles terrified of gmere gnomes of gmountains and furibound to be back in her mytinbeddy?

FDV: Helpmeat too, he tell princes of the age about. who not knows she early wronged by whomsoever. and whenceforward terrified of mountains?

[from this point on I'll use a strategy worked out for Books Three and Four below, condensing based almost entirely on the First Draft Version.] [fw]

But who comes yond with pire on poletop? He who relights our spearing torch, the moon... And, the hag they damename Coverfew hists from her lane. And haste, 'tis time for bairns ta hame. Chickchilds, comeho to roo. Comehome to roo, wee chickchilds doo, when the wildworewolf's abroad...

FDV (relocated): But who comes yond with pire on poletop? He who relights the moon and the hag they call Coverfew hists from her lane. And haste 'tis time for bairn to hame. Da'mselle's, we comeho to roo.

Gerty notes the arrival of the lamplighter in Ulysses: [qv]

As dusk falls the animals fall silent:

It darkles... all this our funnaminal world... We are circumveiloped by obscuritads. Man and belves frieren. There is a wish on them to be not doing or anything... Ha. Where is our highly honourworthy salutable spousefounderess? The foolish one of the family is within. Haha! ...Hound through the maize has fled.... In deerhaven, imbraced, alleged, injoynted and unlatched, the birds, tommelise too, quail silent... Was avond ere a while. Now conticinium... The time of lying together will come and the wildering of the nicht till cockeedoodle aubens Aurore. Panther monster... No chare of beagles, frantling of peacocks, no muzzing of the camel, smuttering of apes. Lights, pageboy, lights! Brights we'll be brights. With help of Hanoukan's lamp.

(Hayman notes that HSW called these next four FDV-quotes one of Joyce's favorite passages.)

FDV: It darkles, all this our fun nominal world. Man and beast are chill. In deeryard imbraced, alleged, injointed and unlatched, the birds, even thumbtit, quail silent. Was vesper ere awhile. Now conticinium. No chare of beagles, frantling of peacocks, muzzing of the camel, smuttering of apes. Lights, pageboy, lights!

(there's an echo in the published version of a curious passage in Circe, where a drunk is wandering around carrying a lamppost, and Bloom is hallucinating Richie Goulding: "...the navvy, lurching by, gores him with his flaming pronghorn.) RICHIE:(With a cry of pain, his hand to his back.) Ah! Bright's! Lights!") [qv]

Issy is on the shore or in the park, waiting for her lover? [fw]

When otter leaps in outer parts then Yul remembers Mei. Her hung maid mohns are bluming, look, to greet those loes on coast of amethyst; arcglow's seafire siemens lure and wextward warnerforth's hookercrookers...

FDV: When otter leaps in outer parts then Yul remembers May. Her mohns are bluming to greet the loes on yon coast of amethyst; arcglow's seafire siemens here and warnerforth's hookercrooker's.

McH: song "Then You'll Remember Me" starts 'When other lips and other hearts'
McH: 'The young May moon she's beaming love' (Thomas Moore)
McH: Mohn = poppy (German)
McH: seafire = sapphire
McH: Siemens lighthouse at Arklow
McH: Henry II landed at the Crook in Waterford bay, by the Hook tower

longshot: there's a Yeats poem that mentions otters sliding into streams [etext]

And if Lubbernabohore laid his horker to the ribber... he would not hear a flip flap in all Finnyland. Witchman, watch of your night? ...It goes. It does not go. Darkpark's acoo with sucking loves. Rosimund's by her wishing well.... And if you wand to Livmouth, wenderer... here lurks... none iron welcome...

FDV: Darkpark's acoo with sucking loves. Rosimund's by her wishing well. And if you wand to Livmouth, wenderer, here is no iron welcome.

McH: liobar na bothair = a tramp (Irish)
McH: Rosamund Pond in St James Park, London, was a meetingplace for lovers [cite]

iron welcome = cold hard (un)welcome?

HCE's pub/hotel is described:

Were you Marely quean of Scuts or but Chrestien the Last... here's dapplebellied mugs and troublebedded rooms and sawdust strown in expectoration... Mr Knight, tuntapster, buttles; his alefru's up to his hip. And Watsy Lyke sees after all rinsings and don't omiss Kate, homeswab homely, put in with the bricks. A's the sign and one's the number... So who over comes ever for Whoopee Weeks must put up with the Jug and Chambers.

FDV: Were you marely quean of scuts or but Christien the Last here's dapplebellied mugs and troublebedded rooms and sawdust strown in expectoration. Mr Knight, big tapster, buttles; his alewife's up to his hip. And Wasty Lyke looks after all rinsings and don't omiss Kate, put in with the bricks. A's the sign and one's the number. So who over comes ever for whoopee week must put up with the Jug and Chambers.

[fw]

But heed! ...Housefather calls enthreateningly... In thundercloud periwig. With lightning bug aflash from afinger... Ansighosa pokes in her potstill... to hear to all the bubbles besaying: the coming man, the future woman, the food that is to build, what he with fifteen years will do, the ring in her mouth of joyous guard, stars astir ant stirabout. A palashe for hirs, a saucy for hers and ladlelike spoons for the wonner. But ein and twee were never worth three. So they must have their final since he's on parole... Now for la belle! Icy-la-Belle!

FDV: But now! Housefather calls enthreateningly. Ansiosa looks in the pot. The coming man, the future woman the food that is to build-- what he with fifteen years will do, the ring in her mouth of joyous guard, stars astir and stirabout. A plagueful for hirs, a saucy for hers. But one and two were never worth. So they must have their final. Now for La Belle Icy-la-Bella.

Molly reads the bubbles in her chamberpot to foretell the future [Penelope]

The campus calls them... Childs will be wilds... For these are not on terms, they twain... since their baffle of Whatalose when Adam Leftus and the devil took our hindmost, gegifting her with his painapple, nor will not be atoned at all in fight to no finish, that dark deed doer, this wellwilled wooer, Jerkoff and Eatsoup, Yem or Yan, while felixed is who culpas does... and Brune is bad French for Jour d'Anno... For she must walk out. And it must be with who... Else there is danger of. Solitude.

FDV: For they are not on terms, they two, since their baffle of whatalose and will not be atoned at all while felixed is who culpas does and Brune is bad friendsch for Jour d'Anno. For she will walk out. And it must be with who? Elsethere is danger of solitude.

McH: Jacob and Esau; Giordano Bruno

very uncharacteristically, Joyce repeats the puns "Jerkoff and Eatsup" in III.4 [qv]

Shaun is getting the upper hand: [fw]

Postreintroducing Jeremy... his lasterhalft was set for getting the besterwhole of his yougendtougend, for control number thrice was operating the subliminal of his invaded personality...

FDV: Postreintroducing Jeremy. His lasterhalft was set for getting the bester of his youngendtougend for control number thrice was operating the sibliminal of his invaded personality.

McH: lasterhaft = vicious (German)
McH: Jugend-Tugend = youth-virtue (German)

He wept indeiterum. With such a tooth he seemed to love his wee tart when abuy. Highly momourning he see the before him. Melained from nape to kneecap though vied from her girders up. Holy Santalto, cursing saint, sight most deletious...! Lift the blank ve veered as heil! Split the hvide and aye seize heaven! He knows for he's seen it in black and white through his eyetrompit trained upon jenny's and all that sort of thing which is dandymount to a clearobscure.

FDV: He wept undeiterum. With such a tooth he seemed to love his wee tart when a buy. Highly momourning he see thee before him. Melanied from nape to kneecap though vied from thigh girders up. San Talto, sight most deletious! Lift the black ve veared as hell! Split the hvide, and aye seize heaven.

McH: songs: 'My sweetheart when a boy' and 'Eily Mavourneen, I see thee before me'
McH: melaino = to blacken (Greek); maligned
McH: split the white light (into seven rainbow colors)

Prettimaid tints may try their taunts: apple, bacchante, custard, dove, eskimo, feldgrau, hematite, isingglass, jet, kipper, lucile, mimosa, nut, oysterette, prune, quasimodo, royal, sago, tango, umber, vanilla, wisteria, xray, yesplease, zaza, philomel, theerose. What are they all by? Shee.

FDV: Prettymaide hues may have their cry apple, bacchante, custard, dove, eskimo, fawn, ginger, hemalite, isinglass, jet, kipper, lucile, mimosa, nut, oysterette, prune, quasimodo, royal, sago, tango, umber, vanilla, wistaria, xray, yesplease, zaza, philomel, theerose. What are they all by? Shee.

If you nude her in her prime, make sure you find her complementary or... she'll prick you where you're proudest with her unsatt speagle eye. Look sharp, she's signalling from among the asters. Turn again, wistfultone, lode mere of Doubtlynn! Arise, Land-under-Wave! Clap your lingua to your pallet, drop your jowl with a jolt, tambourine until your breath slides, pet a pout and it's out. Have you got me, Allysloper?

FDV: If you knew her in her prime make sure you find her complimentary. Or she'll prick where you're proud with her speagle eye. Look sharp, she's signalling again from among the asters. Clap your lingua to your pallet, drop your jowl with a jolt, tambourine until your breath slides, pet a pout and it's out. Have you got me, Allysloper?

...This kissing wold's full of killing fellows kneeling voyantly to the cope of heaven. And somebody's coming, I feel for a fect. I've a seeklet to sell thee if old Deanns won't be threaspanning. When you'll next have the mind to retire to be wicked this is as dainty a way as any. Underwoods spells bushment's business. So if you sprig poplar you're bound to twig this. 'Twas my lord of Glendalough benedixed the gape for me that time at Long Entry, commanding the approaches to my intimast innermost. Look how they're browthered!

...In the house of breathings lies that word, all fairness... a canopy of Tyrian awning rises and still descends to it. A grape cluster of lights hangs therebeneath and all the house is filled with the breathings of her fairness... There lies her word, you reder! ...A window, a hedge, a prong, a hand, an eye, a sign, a head and keep your other augur on her paypaypay... And Sunny, my gander, he's coming to land her. The boy which she now adores...

With a ring ding dong, they raise clasped hands and advance more steps to retire to the saum. Curtsey one, curtsey two, with arms akimbo, devotees... All sing:
-- I rose up one maypole morning and saw in my glass how nobody loves me but you. Ugh. Ugh.
All point in the shem direction as if to shun... All laugh...
-- Willest thou rossy banders havind?
-- Are you Swarthants that's hit on a shorn stile?
-- Can you ajew ajew fro' Sheidam?

He finges to be cutting up with a pair of sissers and to be buytings of their maidens and spitting their heads into their facepails.
Spickspuk! Spoken.

...Twice is he gone to quest of her, thrice is she now to him. So see we so as seed we sow. And their prunktqueen kilt her kirtles up and set out. And her troup came heeling, O. And what do you think that pride was drest in! Voolykins' diamondinah's vestin. For ever they scent where air she. went. While all the fauns' flares widens wild to see a floral's school.

As for she could shake him. An oaf, no more. Still he'd be good tutor two in his big armschair lerningstoel and she be waxen in his hands. Turning up and fingering over the most dantellising peaches in the lingerous longerous book of the dark...

And each was wrought with his other. And his continence fell. The bivitellines... uruseye each oxesother, superfetated... while their treegrown girls... are in such transfusion just to know... who is artthoudux from whose heterotropic, the sleepy or the glouch, for... exceedingly nice girls can strike exceedingly bad times unless so richtly chosen's by... to gar their great moments greater... Till they go round if they go roundagain before breakparts and all dismissed. They keep. Step keep. Step. Stop...

FDV: The bivetellines oxeye each other, superfetated, while the belles are in transfusion to know who is orthodux from whose heliotropic that the great may be great and their great moments be the greater. Till they go round if they go round again. They keep. Step. Keep. Step stop.

Creedless, croonless hangs his haughty... He does not know how his grandson's grandson's grandson's grandson will stammer up in Peruvian... He dares not think why the grandmother of the grandmother of his grandmother's grandmother coughed Russky with suchky husky accent... Nor that the mappamund has been changing pattern as youth plays moves from street to street since time and races were... Nor that the turtling of a London's alderman is ladled out by the waggerful to the regionals of pigmyland.

FDV: Creedless crownless hangs his haughty. He does not know how his grandson's grandson's grandson's grandson will stammer up as a Peruvian. He dares not think the grandmother of his grandmother of his grandmother coughed Russky with a husky accent. Nor that the mappamund has been changing pattern. Since time was and races were nor that the wee voice of a London's alderman is ladled out by the earful to the regionals of pigmy land.

His part should say in honour bound: So help me... I will stick to you, by gum, no matter what... and in case of the event coming off beforehand... plaster me but I will pluckily well pull on the buckskin gloves! But Noodynaady's actual ingrate tootle is of come into the garner mauve and thy nice are stores of morning and buy me a bunch of iodines.

FDV: His part should say I will stick to you, by gum, no matter what and in case of the event coming off beforehand plaster me but I will pluckily well put on the buckskin gloves. But his actual tootle is of come into the garner, mauve, and thy nice are crimsome flowers and buy me a bunch of iodines because it is the month of brums.

Evidentament he has failed as tiercely as the deuce before for she is wearing none of the three. And quite as patenly there is a hole in the ballet trough which the rest fell out. Because to explain why the residue is, was, or will not be... proceeded with, namely... the shifting about of the lassies, the tug of love of their lads ending with a great deal of merriment, hoots, screams, scarf drill, cap fecking, ejaculations of aurinos, reechoable mirthpeals and general thumbtonosery... one must recken with the sudden and gigantesquesque appearance... in Barnado's bearskin amongst the brawlmiddle of this village childergarten of the largely longsuffering laird of Lucanhof.

FDV: Evidentament he has failed as tiercely as before. For she wears none of the three. And quite as patently there is a sort of hole in the ballet through which the rest fell out. For to explain why the residue is or was not proceeded with, namely, the shifting about of lasses and the tug-of love of the lads ending with a great deal of rough merriment, hoots, screams, ejaculations of urine, reechoable laugh and general thumb to nosery one must reckon with the sudden and gigantesquesque appearance in the middle of this childer's village brawl of the largely longsuffering laird of Lucanhof.

But... how accountibus for him, moreblue?

FDV: And how account for him?

...Only the caul knows his thousandfirst name, Hocus Crocus, Esquilocus... The charges are, you will remember, the chances are, you won't; bit it's old Joe, the Java Jane... and we are recurrently meeting em... in cycloannalism, from space to space, time after time, in various phases of scripture as in various poses of sepulture... For now at last is Longabed going to be gone to, that more than man... the herblord the gillyflowrets so fain fan to flatter about. Artho is the name is on the hero...

Why wilt thou erewaken him from his earth, O summonorother: he is weatherbitten from the dusts of ages? The hour of his closing hies to hand; the tocsin that shall claxonise his wareabouts...

Jehosophat, what doom is here! Rain ruth on them, sire! ...Even if you are the kooper of the winkel over measure never lost a licence... And for the honour of Alcohol drop that you-know-what-I've-come-about-I-saw-your-act air! Punch may be pottleproud but his Judy's a wife's wit better.

FDV: Jehosophat, what doom is here! Rain ruth on them, sire. If you are a publican itself over the measure never lost a licence. And for the honour of Alcohol drop that you-know-what-I've-come-about-I-saw-your-act air. Punch may be pottleproud but his Judy's one better.

For the producer (Mr John Baptister Vickar) caused a deep abuliousness to descend upon the Father of Truants and, at a side issue, pluterpromptly brought on the scene the cutletsized consort... weighing ten pebble ten, scaling five footsy five and spanning thirtyseven inchettes round the good companions, twentynine ditties round the wishful waistress, thirtyseven alsos round the answer to everything, twentythree of the same round each of the quis separabits, fourteen round the beginning of happiness and nicely nine round her shoed for slender.

FDV: For the Producer (Mr John Baptister Vickar) caused a deep abuliousness to descend upon the Father of Truants and, as a side issue, pluterpromptly brought on the scene his cutletsized consort, scaling 10 stone ten, scaling 5 footsy five, and spanning 37 inchettes round the companions, 29 ditties round the wishful waiter, 36 of the same round each of her quis separabits, 14 round the beginning of happiness and nicely nine round her shoed for slender.

And eher you could pray mercy to goodness or help with your hokey or mehokeypoo, Gallus's hen has collared her pullets... Their bone of contention, flesh to their thorns... makes off in a thinkling... while... Bier, Wijn, Spirituosen for consumption on the premises... is hued and cried of each's colour.

FDV: And eher you could pray merry to goodness or help to the rescue Gallus's hen has collared her pullets. Their bone of contention makes home in the flesh while beer, wine + spirits for consumption on the premises is hued + cried of all the colours.

Home all go... For they are now tearing, that is, teartoretorning. Too soon are coming tasbooks and goody... Fine's French phrases from the Grandmere des Grammaires... and why is limbo where is he and what are the sound waves saying ceased ere they all wayed wrong...

FDV: And they wear tearing, simply tearing. Samply tee hee eh ah are eye end gee yes. For too quickly are coming lessons and goody.

That little cloud, a nibulissa, still hangs isky. Singabed sulks before slumber. Light at night has an alps on his druckhouse... What is amaid today todo? So angelland all weeping bin that Izzy most unhappy is...

FDV: Singabed cries before sleep. Light at night has alps on his pectus. What is a maid to do?

While... they jeerilied along... about old Father Barley how he got up of a morning arley and he met with a plattonem blondes named Hips and Haws and fell in with a fellows of Trinity some header Skowood Shaws like... auld Daddy Deacon who could stow well his place of beacon but he never could hold his kerosene's candle to... bold Farmer Burleigh who wuck up in a hurlywurly where he huddly could wuddle to wallow his weg tillbag of the baker's booth to beg of... illed Diddiddy Achin for the prize of a pease of bakin with a pinch of the panch of the ponch in jurys for... Wold Forrester Farley who, in deesperation of deispiration at the diasporation of his diesparation, was found of the round of the sound of the lound of the. [*]

[*] thunderwords for 'shut the door' [list]

FDV: While they jeerilied along about aled father Barley of how he got up of a morning arley and he met with a plattonem blondes named Hips and Haws and fell on with a fellows of Trinity some headder Skowood Shaws like oil daddy Veacon who could stow well his place of beacon but he couldn't hold kerosene's candlelight to alid fudder Burleigh who wuch up in a hurley wurly where he huddley could wuddle to wallow his weg tilbag of the bager's booth to beg of ill Diddiddy Achin the price of a prate of bakin for wold Forrester Farley who was found of the sound of the round of the round of the lound of the
Bang!
Lukkedoerendunandurraschindilooshoofermoyportertooryzooy

Byfall. Upploud!

FDV: Byfall!

The play thou schouwburgst, Game, here endeth. The curtain drops by deep request.
Uplouderamain!

...Of their fear they broke, they ate wind, they fled; where they ate there they fled; of their fear they fled, they broke away... Great is him whom is over Ismael and he shall mekanek of Mak Nakulon. And he deed.
Uplouderamainagain!

For the Clearer of the Air from on high has spoken in tumbuldum tambaldam to his tembledim tombaldoom worrild and, moguphonoised by that phonemanon, the unhappitents of the earth have terrerumbled from fimament unto fundament and from tweedledeedumms down to twiddledeedees.
Loud, hear us!
Loud, graciously hear us

Now have thy children entered into their habitations... Thou hast closed the portals of the habitations of thy children and thou hast set thy guards thereby... that thy children may read in the book of the opening of the mind to light and err not in the darkness which is the afterthought of thy nomatter... Pray-your-Prayers Timothy and Back-to-Bunk Tom.

FDV: Now have thy children entered into their habitations. Thou hast closed the portals of their houses. And thou hast placed thy messengers beside the portals of the habitations that thy children err not in the darkness which is thy afterthought Pray your prayers, Timothy and Back to Bunk, Tom.

Till tree from tree, tree among trees tree over tree become stone to stone, stone between stones, stone under stone for ever.

O Loud, hear the wee beseech of thees of each of these thy unlitten ones! Grant sleep in hour's time, O Loud!

That they take no chill. That they do ming no merder. That they shall not gomeet madhowiatrees.

Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low!

Ha he hi ho hu.

Mummum.