Tuesday, January 1, 2013

End of the year meeting--253-55

I thought I'd try and do a little justice here to our last meeting of 2012 before 2013 gets far under way. We tweaked the schedule a little to include three visitors and Wake fans currently residing in Austin, which took some maneuvering but was well worthwhile. I think it's a good thing to start out the year as you mean to go on, and so I wanted to get up a post on the first day of the year. Probably short and scrabbly, but better than nothing.

I'll start by pointing out a couple of our participants' favorite lines. Peter is much taken with "for ancients link with presents as the human chain extends", which has both an ALP and a HCE linked together and which brings the past and future together in the present moment. It seemed very fitting to come upon this phrase in a moment at the very tip of one year and headed into another, where our graying regulars met for a night with the next generation of Wakeans.

He also pointed out the "Meereschal MacMuhun" reference, one of the many plays on the names of people Joyce himself couldn't have known, in this case Marshall McLuhan, an avid Joycean himself.

John's favorite line starts the next paragraph in the middle of 254: "The mar of murmury mermers to the mind's ear, uncharted rock, evasive weed." With its undertones of memory and and its overtones of the sea--or maybe the reverse, it indeed has a tidal kind of beauty.

Halley and Ann in took in turn to ask what Joyce was trying to do in writing the book, and Ann returned to a previous theme that she and Tom seem to jibe with which was his attempt to break through language to reach and have us reach an unmitigated reality. Tom maintains that every word is a possible portal. I asked even "A"? Not to be glib exactly, but because our paragraph had also included this sentence "A and aa ab ad abu abiad." He said yes, but I remain skeptical of A as a portal. Although it will probably turn out that the letter A was originally the diagram for a door or something. That would be my kind of luck.

The thing that struck me most was the way that language appears to be our all in all. It is not only that we don't really apprehend things without language, but also that we don't recognize being without language as equal to us in some way. In the kind of synchronicity we all like to talk about around Joyce, I had been thinking about this theme earlier in the day. About how there are so many being in the world that we ignore or don't think about simply because they don't speak or even just don't speak our language in one way or another. As happens when you are reading the Wake, many different kinds of sparks fly off the words and connect things and elucidate them further.

As it happened we ended up talking about what Tom called the limit we are most familiar with, which is death, and how Finnegans Wake is about a man presumed dead who is not in fact dead, and how we as human beings have a primordial uneasiness with how to figure out when life has really been extinguished. This led to talk of deathlike states induced by drinking from lead drinking steins, bells on strings which the dead could pull from their coffins if they turned out not to be as dead as all that, and Mary Baker Eddy with her telephone. (According to Snopes, this rumor is false.) The "locked in" state of some people in comas who cannot communicate their awareness.

Gruesome perhaps, but not inappropriate, either to the Wake or the end of an old sad year.

Happy New Year, and thanks for joining us, Charlie, Hallie and Peter! 

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Music Inspired by Joyce and Others

http://blogs.publishersweekly.com/blogs/PWxyz/2012/12/13/11-songs-inspired-by-books/

Scroll down to 9
"9. Ulysses by James Joyce inspired “ReJoyce” by Jefferson Airplane"

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Finnegans Wake in Austin

You were waiting for me to give some update on our progress here, maybe? Dream on, dreamer.

No, I'll get around to it, but meanwhile, why not check out PQ's great post on completing The Wake over at A Building Roam?

He has dived in deep, while we have only been wading along the shoreline. Not that there's a right and wrong way to appproach this thing. The approaching is all. 

Monday, November 12, 2012

irrelevance-page 249

This is more just a tip of the hat to the premise of blogging here, but I did get intrigued by the word 'irrelevance' after our last meeting, enough so that I did a blog post about it elsewhere. You can find it here, if you're interested.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

The woman thing

I may be wrong, but I consider myself to be about the most skeptical of Joyce's take on women of the members of our group, but I swear I wasn't going around hunting for ammunition. Instead, I was trying to remember exactly why Joyce was so keen on Giordano Bruno, when I came across this article in the James Joyce Quarterly by Joseph C. Voelker, called "Nature It Is": The Influence of Giordano Bruno on James Joyce's Molly Bloom. As it's JSTOR, I have the usual problem of not being able to read the whole article, but nevertheless, the first paragraph is interesting.

"James Joyce was remarkably consistent in his portrayal of women, and this consistency is of a kind more frequently found in philosophical argument than in the novelistic observation of character. From Polly Mooney to Anna Livia Plurabella, Joyce's women live in close contact with their senses, reason only in the most inept and self-contradictory manner, and threaten repeatedly to throw off their individual identities--like the merest frillies--to reveal their true essence beneath. Really they are not so much fictional representations of actual women as they are flowing rivers and spinning earthballs, disguises for Natura, whom Joyce deployed in his life-long war with the propoents of Grace."

This is not totally surprising to me, but what is surprising is that Joyce derived his idea of Nature from Giordano Bruno. Voelker says, "Like Joyce's most lovingly delineated woman, Molly Bloom, Bruno's Nature is at once incontrovertibly fixed and in constant flux." Joyce was apparently heavily influenced by the book Giordano Bruno by J. Lewis McIntyre, which came out in 1903:

"In other words, Nature, under one aspect, is a spiritual unity, in which are comprised all possible differences, or all separate existences : under another it is these many existences themselves, in each of which, in succession, all differences are "realized," all modes come into being; and finally under another aspect, it is the force which brings forth the separate forms or existences out of the formless, indeterminate, indifferentiated unity of being, or God."

Personally, I'm happier with Bruno's naming this whole magilla Nature than Joyce's naming it Anna Livia Plurabella. But it does help me to understand better what he's driving at.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

The Wake in Translation, Part 2. Turning Japanese

It's been a couple of busy months since I posted part one of this discussion of the Wake in translation, despite the fact that I have really wanted to get to this very interesting article I discovered on the history of the Wake in Japanese. Yup--Japanese. If you'd like, you can just cut to the chase and head over to Atelier Aterui and read the article by Eisharo Ito.

For me, it is timely to revisit this article after our last meeting, because one thing that struck me about our last reading together was exactly the thing the article talks about--the mysterious way in which Joyce was able to sustain multiple narratives simultaneously. I'm not talking about plots and subplots here, or even the way Joyce was able to draw from such a multitude of sources. I'm talking about how, on the one hand, the book can be a running commentary on Lewis Carroll, yet on another, is also fully able to carry the multivolume discourse by John P. Anderson on Finnegans Wake, which is subtitled The Curse of Kabbalah, and  in which two ideas of God contend and interact with each other. And so on and so on.

I think the way of translating this work into Japanese can help us understand this a little. Parts of Finnegans Wake had been tranlated into Japanese as early as 1933, but it was left to Naoki Yanase to attempt the whole book in the late 1980s and early 90s. The earlier groups at work on the project tranlated what they considered to be the surface meaning, and then use endnotes to discuss other meanings and context. Yanase was part of one of these groups, but then went on to try it alone.

The “Joycean language” is a fertile bed of multilingualism whose ambiguity enables the reader infinitely to interpret each word, phrase and sentence Joyce interweaved in the text--Eisharo Ito

Yanase decided to render this multiplicity in Japanese. For this effort, he had to coin new words in Japanese, and also attempt to create a Japanese "style" that seemed to reproduce the Joycean style. He translated the complete book, which is now considered a masterpiece in its own right, but his unique usage was very difficult to follow and has proved too much for most Japanese readers. (I should point out here that the language he was tranlating into has not only a different script, but a very different idea of how to write a word in itself.)

It was then left for Kyoko Miyata to write a more accessible translation for the non-scholarly reader. Her method was to stick with what she discerned as the main narrative and then add one or at the most two alternative readings by means of the footnotes. The article says that Miyata was impressed by what Michal Butor, the French translator of the Anna Livia Plurabelle, had to say about reading the Wake--"the reader consciously or unconsciously makes one choice among mass of meanings of words and phrases." In other words, you choose a trail and follow it.  In Miyata's words, she wished to render Finnegans Wake “as an organic whole, to bring in relief this thin but surely existing flow of narrative.”

The end of the article shows the two Japanese versions alongside the original. It's interesting to look at, even if you can't read a word of Japanese.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Parallels with Sylvie and Bruno

"All of Dodgerson's dodges one conning one's copying and that's what wonderland's wanderlad'll flaunt to the full."



I recently read Lewis Carroll's Sylvie and Bruno (in the Mercury House edition illustrated by Santa Cruz's own Renee Flower) and I have heard of Joyce's familiarity with the work.  (James Atherton asserts it is the work of Carroll's Joyce read most attentatively.)

It's a really strange work, Carroll has essentially deconstructed the Victorian novel and the children's story mixing adult theological discussions, and satire with sentimentality, romance, magic and fairies, philosophy and nonsense, and made something that seems oddly modernist or postmodernist.  Needless to say it's still a walk in the park compared to the Wake.

Here's some of the parallels.

  • it starts in mid-sentence
  • there are abrupt transitions between states of consciousness and events
  • serious topics discussed seriously and sentimentally --
    are startlingly intermixed with nonsense and fantasy
  • much takes place in an eerie or dream state (in fairy land)
  • the waking world has a parallel plot in the dream world
  • character is fluid and characters have multiple incarnations in parallel
  • distortions of logic and language by the speech of childhood
Here's some notes essentially copped directly from the Editor's Note:
[N]oted one of Carroll's biographer's, "...[Carroll] was firmly resolved: that the project should be completely different from the Alice books." ... Another biographer adds, "Sylvie and Bruno bears the same relation to Lewis Carroll's earlier works, mutis mutandis,  as Finnegans Wake  to the more intelligible earlier productions of James Joyce... [Another says]... "...Yet many of the wildest and most startling features of Finnegans Wake are merely the logical development...of ideas that first occurred to Lewis Carroll."
And here's a thought, from Sylvie and Bruno:
"And what a grand thing it would be,” I went on dreamily, thinking aloud rather than talking, “if we could only apply that Rule to books! You know, in finding the Least Common Multiple, we strike out a quantity wherever it occurs, except in the term where it is raised to its highest power ..". "...Most libraries would be terribly diminished in bulk. But just think what they would gain in quality!”