Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Thoughts of the Day #39/2011: James Joyce (2)

James Joyce (1882-1941)
(copyright owner, please read the p.s. at the bottom of this posting)

Today, it is the irish novelist James Joyce, who presents his thoughts here. His opus magnum Finnegans Wake (1922-1939) is a clear example how literature can be like chamber music. Read it, dream it, sing it - do whatever you like. John Cage is looking over your shoulder. These are the last pages - by the way, here are no typos implied !:

Ho hang ! Hang ho ! And the clash of our cries till we spring to be free. Auravoles, they says, never heed of your name ! But I'm loothing them that's here and all I lothe. Loonely in me loneness. For all their faults. I am passing out.

O bitter ending ! I'll slip away before they're up. They'll never see. Nor know. Nor miss me. And it's old and old it's sad and old it's sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere size of him, the moyles and moyles of it, moananoaning, makes me seasilt saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms. I see them rising ! Save me from those therrble prongs ! Two more ! Onetwo moremens more.

So. Avelaval. My leaves have drifted from me. All. But one clings still. I'll bear it on me. To remind me of. Lff! So soft this morning, ours. Yes. Carry me along, taddy, like you done through the toy fair ! If I seen him bearing down on me now under whitespread wings like he'd come from Arkangels, I sink I'd die down over his feet, humbly dumbly, only washup. Yes, tid. There's where.

First. We pass through grass behush the bush to. Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us then. Finn, again. Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee ! Till thousandsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given ! A way a lone a last a loved a long the"


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P.S. Dear copyright owners of this picture, please contact me, if you don't want to see your picture above in this context! Your picture will of course be instantly removed! Thank you! Text-passage is taken from: James Joyce, Finnegans Wake (Paris 1922-1939, London: Faber and Faber 1975)