Friday, June 27, 2014

Page 90 (6.216-253) "Well no... spine."

editions: [1922] [html] [archv]
notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
fd: [249] [250] [251] Useen: [] maps: [path] [other] [*]
fd: [248]


— Well no, Mr Bloom said. In point of fact I have to go down to the county Clare on some private business. You see the idea is to tour the chief towns. What you lose on one you can make up on the other.

Bloom visits his father's grave in Ennis, County Clare, each year on 27 June

— Quite so, Martin Cunningham said. Mary Anderson is up there now. Have you good artists?

as Juliet

— Louis Werner is touring her, Mr Bloom said. O yes, we'll have all topnobbers. J.C. Doyle and John MacCormack I hope and. The best, in fact.

On 27 August 1904, Joyce shared the stage of the Antient Concert Rooms with Doyle and McCormack (Nora was smitten!):
('Irish industries'?)

— And madame, Mr Power said smiling. Last but not least.

Mr Bloom unclasped his hands in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Smith O'Brien. Someone has laid a bunch of flowers there. Woman. Must be his deathday. For many happy returns. The carriage wheeling by Farrell's statue united noiselessly their unresisting knees.

StreetView now
1909 map

Oot: a dullgarbed old man from the curbstone tendered his wares, his mouth opening: oot.

— Four bootlaces for a penny.

cf p86 "selling tapes"?

fd: [249]
Wonder why he was struck off the rolls. Had his office in Hume street. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. Has that silk hat ever since. Relics of old decency. Mourning too. Terrible comedown, poor wretch! Kicked about like snuff at a wake. O'Callaghan on his last legs.

neighbor was Henry R Tweedy 1901, 1911
"Relics of old decency" 'The Hat My Father Wore'
kicked about like a football + handed round/disappeared like snuff at a wake
"His Last Legs" [play] "O'Callaghan" comes from the play


And madame. Twenty past eleven. Up. Mrs Fleming is in to clean. Doing her hair, humming: voglio e non vorrei. No: vorrei e non. Looking at the tips of her hairs to see if they are split. Mi trema un poco il. Beautiful on that tre her voice is: weeping tone. A thrust. A throstle. There is a word throstle that expresses that.


Jump to 1:00:

Most editions opt for "A thrush. A throstle."

fd: [250]
His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's goodlooking face. Greyish over the ears. Madame: smiling. I smiled back. A smile goes a long way. Only politeness perhaps. Nice fellow.

(probably JP is not beside LB)

Who knows is that true about the woman he keeps? Not pleasant for the wife. Yet they say, who was it told me, there is no carnal. You would imagine that would get played out pretty quick. Yes, it was Crofton met him one evening bringing her a pound of rumpsteak. What is this she was? Barmaid in Jury's. Or the Moira, was it?

Jury's ad

They passed under the hugecloaked Liberator's form.

StreetView now
1909 map

Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power.

(probably JP and MC are side by side, unless he nudged with his knee)

— Of the tribe of Reuben, he said.

fd: [251]
A tall blackbearded figure, bent on a stick, stumping round the corner of Elvery's elephant house showed them a curved hand open on his spine.

this is to their left, so if MC sees him first, MC ought to be at 7:00

Find Reuben?
elderly Warsaw Jew



[DD 00:16-03:14]
[DD 00:00-01:22]

[IM 14:58-18:02]

[LV1 16:54-20:11]

[LV2 15:19-18:15]

hades: 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111

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