Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Page 118 (7.195-229) "A DAYFATHER... trousers."

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notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
Delaney: [282] Useen: [] [cp] [tropes] maps: [other] [*]
fd: [281]



a sort of union steward

He walked on through the caseroom passing an old man, bowed, spectacled, aproned. Old Monks, the dayfather. Queer lot of stuff he must have put through his hands in his time: obituary notices, pubs' ads, speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. Nearing the end of his tether now. Sober serious man with a bit in the savingsbank I'd say. Wife a good cook and washer. Daughter working the machine in the parlour. Plain Jane, no damn nonsense.

"caseroom" = where the text is set in lead type? (why no definitions? 1964 video)


"Sober serious" recycled in FW: Evans: My People, Stories of the Peasantry of West Wales 25: 'A Heifer Without Blemish': 'What nonsense you talk out of the back of your head! Sober serious, mouth not that you have thrown gravel at Sara Jane's window!'

fd: [282]


Pesach/Passover in 1904 was from 31 March to 6 April

He stayed in his walk to watch a typesetter neatly distributing type. Reads it backwards first. Quickly he does it. Must require some practice that. mangiD. kcirtaP. Poor papa with his hagadah book, reading backwards with his finger to me. Pessach. Next year in Jerusalem. Dear, O dear! All that long business about that brought us out of the land of Egypt and into the house of bondage alleluia. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu. No, that's the other. Then the twelve brothers, Jacob's sons.

"mangiD. kcirtaP." = metathesis
(so Rudolph read Hebrew to little Poldy?)

And then the lamb and the cat and the dog and the stick and the water and the butcher and then the angel of death kills the butcher and he kills the ox and the dog kills the cat. Sounds a bit silly till you come to look into it well. Justice it means but it's everybody eating everyone else. That's what life is after all. How quickly he does that job. Practice makes perfect. Seems to see with his fingers.

"And then the lamb and the cat and the dog and the stick and the water and the butcher..." = polysyndeton
"...and then the angel of death kills the butcher..." = climax

Mr Bloom passed on out of the clanking noises through the gallery onto the landing. Now am I going to tram it out all the way and then catch him out perhaps. Better phone him up first. Number? Yes. Same as Citron's house. Twentyeight. Twentyeight double four.

"Now am I going to tram it out all the way...?" = anthimeria
to Ballsbridge?


He went down the house staircase. Who the deuce scrawled all over these walls with matches? Looks as if they did it for a bet. Heavy greasy smell there always is in those works. Lukewarm glue in Thom's next door when I was there.

"down the house staircase" (so we've been on the 2nd floor?)

(this matches-business must fit some unrecognised pattern, most likely Homeric)

He took out his handkerchief to dab his nose. Citronlemon? Ah, the soap I put there. Lose it out of that pocket. Putting back his handkerchief he took out the soap and stowed it away, buttoned, into the hip pocket of his trousers.


mysteries: etymology of 'caseroom', wallscrawl

[DD 02:49-03:44]
[DD 00:00-02:54]

[IM 12:23-14:54]

[LV1 10:13-12:17]

[LV2 13:39-16:18]

eolus: 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143

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