Sunday, June 22, 2014

Page 85 (6.26-64) "Other hoofs... stinks all"

editions: [1922] [html] [archv]
notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
Delaney: [238] [239] Useen: [] maps: [path] [other] [*]
Delaney: [237]


Other hoofs and creaking wheels started behind. The blinds of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. At walking pace.

crepe wreaths for funeral doors

They waited still, their knees jogging, till they had turned and were passing along the tramtracks. Tritonville road. Quicker. The wheels rattled rolling over the cobbled causeway and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the doorframes.

tramtracks were embedded in the street
(was there an alternate, slower path without the bumpy tracks?)
"Rattle his bones over the stones; He’s only a pauper, whom nobody owns" [lyrics] []
cf p66 "He kicked open the crazy door of the jakes"

Delaney: [238]
— What way is he taking us? Mr Power asked through both windows.

(again, what's the alternate?)
"through both windows" = looking anxiously left and right
(there's no reason for Power to be disoriented unless he's facing backwards...?)

— Irishtown, Martin Cunningham said. Ringsend. Brunswick street.

Irishtown road

Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out.

— That's a fine old custom, he said. I am glad to see it has not died out.

the consensus is that the "custom" here is going through downtown so people can pay respects, but Bloom thinks it's just quicker, and another possible custom is tipping one's hat (no-one would know, anyway, whose funeral it is... right?)

a Finnegans Wake draft supports this: "he converted many of the natives, boys and men, to put off their hats from their old sinful bodies as often as they passed another temple and showed them the way to by instruction and example"

All watched awhile through their windows caps and hats lifted by passers. Respect. The carriage swerved from the tramtrack to the smoother road past Watery lane. Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, clad in mourning, a wide hat.

StreetView, with the former Watery lane on the right

"at gaze" probably implies he's looking out his own side (whichever this is)

Joyce was about 5'11, and anorexically thin for most of his life (112 pounds in 1928)

it will be observed later that Stephen's shoes were/are muddy, so this may (or may not) be after Proteus

— There's a friend of yours gone by, Dedalus, he said.

— Who is that?

— Your son and heir.

— Where is he? Mr Dedalus said, stretching over across.

if Bloom is pointing out his own side, SiD must not be facing him on the same side

The carriage, passing the open drains and mounds of rippedup roadway before the tenement houses, lurched round the corner and, swerving back to the tramtrack, rolled on noisily with chattering wheels. Mr Dedalus fell back, saying:

Patsy Dignam on p241 seems to complain the tram isn't running

— Was that Mulligan cad with him? His fidus Achates!

for some reason SiD couldn't see him clearly (reducing the chance that LB saw him ahead, because then they would have passed him)
Latin pronunciation controversial

— No, Mr Bloom said. He was alone.

— Down with his aunt Sally, I suppose, Mr Dedalus said, the Goulding faction, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the wise child that knows her own father.

Watery Lane was only two blocks from Strasburg Terrace
the Murray faction in 1901
cf p39

paternity motif
cf  U-14: "Who can say? The wise father knows his own child." after Merchant of Venice II.2.78 'if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child.'

Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road. Wallace Bros: the bottleworks: Dodder bridge.

these locations seem to be named in reverse order
[1909 map calls it Ringsend Bridge]

Irish Glass Bottle Company

Delaney: [239]
Richie Goulding and the legal bag. Goulding, Collis and Ward he calls the firm. His jokes are getting a bit damp. Great card he was. Waltzing in Stamer street with Ignatius Gallaher on a Sunday morning, the landlady's two hats pinned on his head. Out on the rampage all night. Beginning to tell on him now: that backache of his, I fear. Wife ironing his back. Thinks he'll cure it with pills. All breadcrumbs they are. About six hundred per cent profit.

to wear two hats at once, one would presumably have to partially fit inside another (on p424 it becomes three)

Gallaher bio
(syphilis, supposedly)

— He's in with a lowdown crowd, Mr Dedalus snarled. That Mulligan is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts. His name stinks all



[DD 02:44-03:17]
[DD 00:00-02:48]

[IM 01:54-04:38]

[LV1 02:30-05:27]

[LV2 02:24-05:04]

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