Saturday, August 2, 2014

Page 122 (7.337-369) "WHAT WETHERUP... short and long."

editions: [1922] [html] [archv]
notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
Delaney: [285b] Useen: [] [cp] [tropes] maps: [other] [*]
fd: [285a]



Weatherup background

All very fine to jeer at it now in cold print but it goes down like hot cake that stuff. He was in the bakery line too, wasn't he? Why they call him Doughy Daw. Feathered his nest well anyhow. Daughter engaged to that chap in the inland revenue office with the motor. Hooked that nicely. Entertainments open house. Big blow out. Wetherup always said that. Get a grip of them by the stomach.

(Dawson owned Dublin Bread Company)
'daw' = jackdaw (bird), also simpleton
Charles 'Dan' Dawson had 4 grown sons at home, no daughters in 1901 at age 60 
Weatherup is a common name in County Antrim (NE)

fd: [285b]

The inner door was opened violently and a scarlet beaked face, crested by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. The bold blue eyes stared about them and the harsh voice asked:

Myles Crawford spoilers [2pg]
Joyce equated Crawford with the wind-god Aeolus
(is he drunk to the point of incoherence?)
"Daw... Feathered... Hooked... beaked... crested... feathery" (parrot-looking?)

— What is it?

— And here comes the sham squire himself! professor MacHugh said grandly.

an early owner of the Freeman's Journal (18th C), Francis Higgins, was dubbed 'the Sham Squire' [bio]

— Getonouthat, you bloody old pedagogue! the editor said in recognition.

cf? p46 to dog "Tatters! Out of that, you mongrel!" and p94 to cattle "Huuuh! out of that!"

— Come, Ned, Mr Dedalus said, putting on his hat. I must get a drink after that.

is SiD snubbing/fleeing Crawford?

— Drink! the editor cried. No drinks served before mass.


— Quite right too, Mr Dedalus said, going out. Come on, Ned.

they're humoring a madman? (how can a madman continue as editor??)

Ned Lambert sidled down from the table. The editor's blue eyes roved towards Mr Bloom's face, shadowed by a smile.

(why the smile?)

— Will you join us, Myles? Ned Lambert asked.


— North Cork militia! the editor cried, striding to the mantelpiece. We won every time! North Cork and Spanish officers!

— Where was that, Myles? Ned Lambert asked with a reflective glance at his toecaps.

steel toecaps are a common safety feature, but here it's the glance that's reflective, not the shoes (NL is later said to work in a seed and grain store, so maybe around heavy lifting?)

— In Ohio! the editor shouted.

— So it was, begad, Ned Lambert agreed.

Passing out he whispered to J.J. O'Molloy:

— Incipient jigs. Sad case.

seems to imply alcoholic dementia (rhetorically, is it Lambert's neologism here?) ((does this Irish gift for neologism have a name?))
(you'd think they'd all know the situation well)

— Ohio! the editor crowed in high treble from his uplifted scarlet face. My Ohio!

— A perfect cretic! the professor said. Long, short and long.

CREEtic (one CREHtic)
'ohio' is short-long-short (010), 'my ohio' is long-short-long-short (1010), neither is remotely a 101/cretic

there was a song 'Ohio, my Ohio' to the tune of 'Maryland, my Maryland' (which makes two cretics)


mysteries: Crawford's nonsequiturs, smile

[DD 00:57-03:38]

[IM 21:18-23:08]

[LV1 17:58-19:44]

[LV2 23:09-25:13]

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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