Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Page 45 (3.292-330) "them bloody... death: lost."


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Delaney: [129]

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them bloody well boulders, bones for my steppingstones. Feefawfum. I zmellz de bloodz odz an Iridzman.


King Lear III.4.185: 'Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man.'

notes

A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the sweep of sand.

(SD couldn't have known it was a pointer, so he's talking a geometric point)

Delaney: [130]
Lord, is he going to attack me? Respect his liberty. You will not be master of others or their slave. I have my stick. Sit tight. From farther away, walking shoreward across from the crested tide, figures, two. The two maries. They have tucked it safe mong the bulrushes. Peekaboo. I see you. No, the dog. He is running back to them. Who?
Galleys of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in quest of prey, their bloodbeaked prows riding low on a molten pewter surf. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold.


♬ when Malachi wore the collar of gold

A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, hobbling in the shallows. Then from the starving cagework city a horde of jerkined dwarfs, my people, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in green blubbery whalemeat.


Delaney: [131]
Famine, plague and slaughters. Their blood is in me, their lusts my waves. I moved among them on the frozen Liffey, that I, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. I spoke to no-one: none to me.

turlehydes

The dog's bark ran towards him, stopped, ran back. Dog of my enemy. I just simply stood pale, silent, bayed about. Terribilia meditans. A primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on my fear. For that are you pining, the bark of their applause? Pretenders: live their lives. The Bruce's brother, Thomas Fitzgerald, silken knight, Perkin Warbeck, York's false scion, in breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, wonder of a day, and Lambert Simnel, with a tail of nans and sutlers, a scullion crowned. All kings' sons. Paradise of pretenders then and now.

Dog of my enemy King Lear 4.7.36 'Mine enemy’s dog,/Though he had bit me, should have stood that night/Against my fire'

Antony and Cleopatra V.2.2 ''Tis paltry to be Caesar; Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, A minister of her will'


Delaney: [132]
He saved men from drowning and you shake at a cur's yelping. But the courtiers who mocked Guido in Or san Michele were in their own house. House of... We don't want any of your medieval abstrusiosities. Would you do what he did? A boat would be near, a lifebuoy. Natürlich, put there for you. Would you or would you not? The man that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. They are waiting for him now. The truth, spit it out. I would want to. I would try. I am not a strong swimmer.

mocked Guido
(Joyce pursued swimming at Belvedere)


Delaney: [133]
Water cold soft. When I put my face into it in the basin at Clongowes. Can't see! Who's behind me? Out quickly, quickly! Do you see the tide flowing quickly in on all sides, sheeting the lows of sands quickly, shell cocoacoloured? If I had land under my feet. I want his life still to be his, mine to be mine. A drowning man. His human eyes scream to me out of horror of his death. I... With him together down... I could not save her. Waters: bitter death: lost.


1908 notebook: "Dedalus: He dreaded the sea that would drown his body and the crowd that would drown his soul."

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mysteries:


[PM 27:15-31:22]

[DD 02:50-03:05]
[DD 00:00-05:00]

[IM 29:27-33:29]

[LV1 26:11-30:04]

[LV2 23:45-27:08]


proteus: 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50


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