196.19: “gangres:” gangrene
196.21-2: “illysus distilling:” illicit distilling. Compare 85.25-6, where Festy King comes from the “foulfamed potheen district.”
196.22: “I know he well:” I know him well; I know he will.
196.24: Compare Budgen’s song, “The Roughty [rowdy] Tinker.”
196.25: “Minxing:” a “minx:” a flirtatious, scheming woman. Just the sort to mar a marriage.
196.25: “loof:” given all the rub-a-dub-dubbing, I think this implicates “loofah.”
197.1: “Gootch…Drughad:” hootch (bootlegger liquor) and drugs. Goes with “illicit distilling,” earlier. Maybe: one “he” got hootch, the other “he” had drugs.
197.4-5: “derry’s own:” “derry down” – folksong refrain.
197.12: “banns never loosened:” given the context, I think this refers to the Greek marriage custom according to which brides wore their wedding outfit tied with cords – bands – to be untied by their new husband on the wedding night; in Roman ceremony it was the knot on the cingulum.
197.13: “ether duck:” eider duck, source of pillow stuffings of the sort likely to turn up on the marriage bed. “Ether,” a popular recreational drug in the early 20th century, continues the drug-drink strain. Marriage is the, or anyway a, opiate of the masses.
197.13: “duck:” “ducky” is or was a Cockney term of affection. Compare 200.8.
197.14: “wildgaze…gander: “wild goose, gander. Maybe obvious. In any case, that wild gaze goes with later testimony about the suitor’s “sheeny stare to perce me rawly” (626.25), and with biographical testimony to the effect that JJ had a way of staring intensely at his interlocutors. (So did his daughter, when I visited her.)
197.16: “her lines:” an expression sometimes applied to the outline of any esthetically desirable object – woman, boat, automobile. With marriage, the woman has a license to show her “lines” to her husband.
197.17: “passmore:” Coventry Patmore, author of “The Angel in the House;” in Victorian times, a name synonymous with marital bliss.
197.18: “wee follyo:” small filly; “we follow.” My bet is that “Dom Dombdomb” refers to Dickens’ Mr. Dombey, who tyrannizes over his wife.
197.20: “doll:” American slang for desirable young woman; applicable to 210.23-4, noted below
197.20: “delvin:” delving
197.25: “immurables:” prisoners
197.27: “grasshoop:” “i.e. she didn’t have a wedding ring, not even of the commonest available material. “Grass skirt,” of the kind proverbially worn by Polynesian and Hawaiian maidens, is probably in the background.
197.29: “loom:” back-formation from “looming.”
197.30: “landfall:” Liam Fail: compare 25.31
197.32: “smell of her kelp:” “kelp” = seaweed, giving off low-tide smell. “Kelp” also (OED, definition 2) = “scabbard,” i.e., vagina. (Compare “gabbard,” 197.28.) Behind this may be the idea, current in JJ’s time, that sperm smell their way to the ovum.
197.32: “pigeonhouse:” also the destination of a homing pigeon
197.32: “Himself:” Irishism, often ironic, for the main man present: e.g. “Himself is having a brood.”
198.4: “bulls they were ruhring:” bull-roarer: noise-maker used in Druid ceremonies.
198.5: “Bunbath:” Bath bun – a kind of brioche made in Bath
198.6: “trader:” treader = M.E. fucker. (Possible as well that 198.5 “erned” includes M.E. variant of verb “ear,” to plow: see Shakespeares’s Sonnet Number 3.
198.12: “aisy-oisy:” Alpha-Omega
198.24: “with a meusic before her:” that is, she’s reading from the music score, placed before her.
198.25: “reedy:” high-pitched tone of the kind produced by reed instruments; river reeds
198.26: “without a band on:” i.e. no wedding ring – compare 197.27
198.35: “ruful continence:” also red (rufous) face (countenance)
199.1: “questing and handsetl:” Hansel and Gretel
199.3: “open swolf to fore:” open twelve to four
199.13: “damazon:” damson
199.14: Suggestion: “smart” may be taken as having to do with intelligence rather than fashion
199.14: “dubber:” dub: to name, or, here rename, as in marriage
199.15: “blooms:” given that the next 10-15 lines are about her serving him breakfast in bed, I’d say this is a cue to recall the Bloom ménage forecast in “Penelope.”
199.19: “trueart pewter:” Stuart pewter, presumably collectable
199.20-1: “hog stay his stomicker:” God save his stomacher (from bursting, due to all the food being taken in).
199.21: “pyrraknees shrunk…: Compare “There are no more Pyrenees,” cited at 330.9. Overall sense is mountains shrunk to molehills. Nutmeg graters, whatever else they are, are small: maybe their bumpy, raspy surface is relevant as well.
199.21: “graters:” don’t know how this goes with “nutmeg,” but given the context, “garters” seems to be echoing in the background.
199.32: “mag:” half-penny
199.34: “Annona, gebroren:” Arrah Geborah – stage-Irish expression
200.2-3: “robe…chairs:” the green (“jade”) could, if subtracted (robbed) from the woods, amount to the leafy equivalent of two trees – chairs for cardinals (birds); if added (robed) it would come to the same amount. (Motif of red-green flip-flop)
200.3: “crush:” in the sense that it would outshine their fancy cardinal vestments
200.4: “poor patches:” following from above: how poor the patches of their outfits seem, compared to that gorgeous green gown.
200.4-5: “brahming to him down the feedchute:” Compare U.12.1566-9: “and when they were in the (dark horse) pisser Burke was telling me card party and letting on the child was sick…flabbyarse of a wife speaking down the tube she's better or she's(ow!) all a plan so he could vamoose with the pool if he won… “
200.6: “poother rambling off her nose:” powder running off her nose. “Powder rooms” were, euphemistically, places for women to powder their noses. ALP is sometimes a dark-skinned woman trying to pass for white: see, e.g. 210.31-2, below.
200.7: “Wickerymandy:” Wicker Man, in which Druidical sacrifices were burned alive.
200.7: “ducky:” again, a Cockney term of endearment
200.14-5: “sandy cloak:” Sunday clothes
200.18: “puffing:” promoting, advertising; see also 210.14, below
200.28: “silliver shiner:” silver coin, probably either sovereign or guinea
200.30-1: no matter what sort/sects of blissful/blessed ways: i.e. no matter what denomination
200.31: “two adda tammar:” two at a time, i.e. for a threesome. The “Tamar” allusion, I think, makes this sex-scene reading more credible.
200.31-2: “to hug and hab haven:” overtone of “to have and to hold,” of wedding ceremony
200.33: “rima:” Bog Latin for animal trap
200.34: “lathering hail:” spanking: beating the hell [out of DFM’s pants seat]
200.35-6: “dying…iodine:” iodine dye: used in dying fabrics, makes bright blue color. (Also used in x-rays, though I don’t see the application here – unless it’s the other washerwoman’s “I can see that, I see you are” (201.2)
201.1: “poule:” given “trouved,” this may signal “poilu,” French soldier.
201.3-4: “Tarn your ore ouse:” Turn your ear outward [to hear better]
201.4: “Essonne inne:” listen in!
201.5: “I…bankside:” perhaps a memory of Joyce’s wearing out the seat of his suit pants while working as a bank clerk in Rome
201.8: “my life in death companion:” we’ve just gotten an echo of “to have and hold:” this comes from “till death do us part.”
201.9: “my much altered camel’s hump:” perhaps an allusion to Kipling’s “How the Camel Got his Hump.” The camel’s original sin was laziness.
201.9: “my frugal key of our larder:” Compare phallically keyless Bloom, and Molly with her “two lumps of lard.” Gist is that HCE is stingy, in both provision and sex.
201.11: “winter’s doze:” The days spent by a bear during hibernation. (“Honey” and “bore,” past tense of “bear,” incline me to the belief that the soporific male in question is, mainly, a bear, waking up in March, as bears do.)
201.15: “his worshipful socks:” she’s the one doing the bishop’s laundry. Also, at least in my feminist/post-feminist times, being expected to pick up and wash hubby’s socks has long been at the top of the list of female complaints about marital arrangements.
201.18-9: Dublin citizens retreated to Clontarf to escape the plague of 1575.
201.23-4: “that homa…wome:” That man (homme) is prevailing over my womanly womb-like self. Compare 261.4: “And the whirr of the wins humming us howe.”
201.27: “How…tool:” ale & wine (vin) inns in total?
201.29: “three…eleven:” i.e. given the choice of a “three-figure” number, one involving the same figure three times, she modestly chose “111” rather than, for instance, “999.”
201.33-4: “cane…Yea:” Issy’s presence is repeatedly signaled by doubled I’s/Y’s. This sequence gives us all three children.
201.33: “infallible slipper:” compare 492.26-7: “unfillable slopper.”
201.34: “A hundred and how?:” Truncated question: A hundred and how many?
201.35: “O loreley:” O Lordy!
202.5: “flewmen:” flymen/flywomen
202.6: “owen:” Bessie Owen, early 20th century aviatrix; see entry above
202.8: “neckar:” “necking:” American slang for kissing and other amorous play
202.10: “Linking…knocking:” a flirt linking arms with one fellow (for dance or promenade) while rejecting the other.
202.12: “clyding:” gliding
202.13: “thurever:” thurifer: acolyte who carries thurible; compare 628.5.
202.14: “Pieman Peace:” P.P.: Parish Priest
202.19-20: “Worry you sighin foh:” what are you sighing for?
202.21: “can’t put her hand on:” i.e. “can’t put her finger on – can’t exactly recall
202.29: “lieabroad:” lie-abed – sluggard
202.33-4: “gave her the tigris eye:” gave her the eye – made eye contact in a flirtatious way.
202.35: “anacheronistic:” anacreonic: describes poetry like Anacreon’s, tributes to love and wine.
203.27: “reignbeau’s: reigning beau
203.27: “arronged:” wronged
203.30-1: “laurels now on her daphdaph teasesong petrock:” “on” Petrarch because a garland of laurel was a sign of distinction, for poets and others.
Two T’s, as in “TrisTan,” are dash-dash in Morse. Capitalized or not, they are visible in the two t’s of his name. “Laura” takes her name from the laurel, formerly Daphne.
203.31: “elfun anon:” eleven and one: 111, or 12
203.34-5: “baised his lippes:” as in U, bathed his lips, i.e. drank: U 7.318.
204.1-2: “hielt her souff:’:” held her breath
204.6: “went through her:” compare Boylan going “through” Molly: U 15.3789.
204.8: “bossom:” bosom, blossom
204.9: “birch canoedler:” birchbark canoe, narrow & small, as opposed to broad “barge;” sexual overtones
204.18: “fallow coo:” “Coo” = signature of FW’s doves. Compare Creation’s dove hovering over the abyss.
204.19-20: “maiden hawthorns:” hawthorn a symbol of Triple Goddess in Celtic mythology – mother, maiden, crone
204.21: “drop me the sound of the findhorn’s name:” incorporates “name dropper.”
204.23: “trickle me through:” tell me true
204.24: “glows in the florry:” light glowing in flowers; compare 203.29-30 “Letty Lerck’s lafing light throw those laurals,” and 215.2-3: “a glow I behold within a hedge.”
204.25-6: “In fear…longing:” echoes “maggies” of 142.35-6.
204.28: “Rother!:” parody of stage Englishman, signifying hauteur
204.31: pinny…surplice:” pinafore or surplice; penny or surplus (poor vs. rich)
204.36: “Baptiste:” batiste: a cotton fabric, a bit of creative folk-etymology could easily dig up affinities with “bastard.”
205.4-5: “tripping to sightsee:” day-tripping sightseers
205.6: “they band:” they bend (rowers in “oarsclub” bend forward before each stroke).
205.16: “Mericy:” Mercury; Mercredi (Wednesday)
205.18: “kidloves:” pederasty
205.17-20: They were so eager to read the scandal in the paper that for once they were willing to soil their white gloves with its newsprint.
205.28: “cammocking:” comically mocking and mimicking
205.29: turgos:” Turgesius, a.k.a. Turges, Viking conqueror of Dublin
205.32-3: “ubanjees:” Ubangi: African tribe – here as a minstrel show playing banjoes. (Ubangis are also known for oversize lips produced by inserting plates or other large disks – a feature that would probably recommend them for such a show.)
206.1-6: “the mauldrin…Dame:” I can’t work out a coherent pattern, but his section is deeply interwoven with mythological accounts of the birth of Zeus, i.e. the Jove of line 3. The noise is being made by Korybantes or Kouretes in order to hide the sound of his infant cries from his “Grimmfather,” Cronus, who wants to kill him. The protective “Ma” is Gaea. “Crosstyx nyne:” the number of her attendant Korybantes was nine. As a manifestation of the Triple Goddess, she had dominion over the Styx. (This is woozy, I know, mixing Gaea with other great-mother goddesses: but the whole Triple-Goddess tradition is woozy and mixed. By the end of the sequence, the BVM has become one of her avatars.) She was also, in this capacity, a witch, and there is an ancient tradition that witches are unable to pass across any road marked with two crossed sticks. (So, 206.4, “croststyx nyne:” Crossed sticks? Nein!) “Lilt a bolero:” Probably the connection is noisy dancing: the Korybantes stomped their feet and clanged on their shields; bolero dancers stomp their feet and clack their castanettes. I don’t get “bulling a law,” but Zeus’ mammal animal was the bull, and Zeus was the gods’ law-giver.
206.1: “mauldrin:” modern.
206.2: “bingkan cagnan:” big-gun cannon
206.2: “cagnan:” can-can.
206.2: “timpan crowders:” a crowd of crooners singing songs from Tin Pan Alley; their crowing is tough on the ears’ tympani. In general, the modern rabble is making a racket.
206.9: “What the meurther did she mague:” What on earth did she make?
206.9: “bergened:” bargained
206.11: “swapsons:” stepsons
206.13: “tidal:” entitled
206.14: “mascarete:” masquerade effected with mascara (etymologically, soot, thus “a dawk of smut to her airy ey” (207.7))
206.15-21: Telling her story, she suffers disabling attacks of the giggles: “Minneha…”It’s too screaming…gurgle…O leave me my faculties!” Compare the barmaids at the beginning of “Sirens.”
206.16-7: “Make my hear it gurgle gurgle.” Also compare the same barmaids, listening for the sound of the sea in the shell, which is really the sound of the blood in the ear, pumped from the heart: Make me hear it gurgle gurgle; my ear go gurgle gurgle. (Also compare to 245.13-14, where “Lubbernabohore,” laying his ear to a) the river, and b) the ribs under which beat his heart, picks up the sound of “giregargoh.”)
206.18-9: “Mudhuddart…mount:” echo of “Mohammed and mountain;” also contrast between mud hut and mountain. Compare 418.17.
206.23: “Take my stroke and bend to your bow:” a lesson in both rowing and fiddling. A singing lesson joins next.
206.24: “pull your overthepoise” (avoirdupois): the expression “pull your weight.” Perhaps also a caution not to tip over the boat past its balance – its point of poise – while she’s getting into it.
206.31: “wupper and lauar:” upper and lower (hair): i.e. both of head and of pubis.
206.33: “warthes and…” Cromwell: “warts and all.” Genital warts are probably in the picture.
206.33: The “itcher” is surely the clitoris. Too obvious?
206.33-4: “butterscatch:” the penis, entering the vagina, butts in, and scratches. And OED dates “snatch” as equaling “cunt” from 1904.
206.34: “serpenthyme:” Thyme, in some traditions, was supposed to protect against snakes.
206.35: “quincecunct:” Much tradition identifies the quince as the fruit of love, antedating the apple. It played a central part in marriage ceremonies, more than enough to justify its fusion here with the cunt.
207.8: “dawk of:” dab of
207.9-12: “Pufflovah…cream…pommettes…strawberry…chirsines:” a Pavlova is a popular desert named for the dancer. Its basic ingredients are meringue (hence the “Puff” in “Pufflovah,” whipped cream, and fruit.
207.11: “boudeloire:” boudoir
207.25: “caritamaney:” cartomancy: fortune-telling by cards
207.25: “Whole lady fair:” holiday fair
207.31-3: “It might have been ten or twenty to one of the night of Allclose or the nexth of April:” Pace Ellmann, Nora Barnacle was born on the 21st of March, the month before April.
207.35-6: “ems…aues:” M-A’s: “Ma:” proverbially, infant’s first word
208.5: “The linth of my hough:” the length of my ankle (human equivalent of animal “hough” or “hock.”) A more drastic version of “not up to your elb[ow]”
208.11: “hideaspects:” given the etymological origin of both “aspect” and “spect,” I suggest that “hide and seek” is part of the package here.
208.13-4: “fast…washing:” “fast” colors in clothing are those from dyes that do not run in the washing. (Obvious?)
208.14: “stays:” term for women’s undergarments, especially the corset
208.15: “bloodorange:” reddish orange color.
208.15. “bocknickers:” “bock” from German for “goat.” “Knickers:” women’s underpants. (Too obvious? Not to American readers.)
208.23-4: “she had a clothespeg tight astride on her joki’s nose:” in comics and pantomimes of the time, a clothespin on the nose signaled the presence of some bad odor. The following lines (208.24-6), especially “rrreke,” may imply a low-tide smell where the Liffey meets the sea.
208.27: “Hellsbells:” maybe obvious, but “Hell’s bells!” was a popular imprecation. My Australian-born father uses it all the time.
208.28: “whelk:” a shell, because we’re at the seashore.
208.30-1: “Lotsy…say!:” Remembered voices of people warning the queer (ill)-looking ALP not to trip and fall in the wet.
208.31: “Fenny…charred:” Many poor men [“hecs” = hce’s = men] she must have charmed! “Fenny:” fen-like
208.32-3: “boys dobelon:” Bois de Boulogne, at edge of Paris. Associated with courtship and, later, prostitution
208.34-5: “Of the may?...murrayed her mirror:” Mary Murray, Joyce’s mother. (In U, Stephen’s mother “was once the beautiful May Goulding.”)
208.35: “recknitz:” also “recognize.” “I reckon” was considered a typical Americanism throughout the 19th century. “Wharfore,” following, seems to go with this: compare “Wall, tarnation strike me!” in U. (“Wharfore” also includes “wharf,” appropriate for the setting; “warfare” may be a glance at American pugnacity (Teddy – “gunboat diplomacy” – Roosevelt was president when U takes place). Also, “plugchewing,” at 209.1, would go with the American theme: chewing plugs of tobacco was a distinctly American habit, much reviled elsewhere.
208.36: “koros:” recalling the Korybantes of 206.1-6
208.36-209.1: “surfacemen:” servicemen. Given the context, mainly the American soldiers of 1917-18, who would have been chewing those plugs and booming their slang.
209.4: “Jukar Yoick’s:” Duke of York’s – a popular pub name.
209.5: “marritime…grasswinter’s:” (My emphases) Merry Widow. The operetta debuted in 1905.
209.5: “weeds:” widow’s weeds; seaweed
209.9: “face…lifted:” also the face of the waters, lifted with the tide
209.9: Not to belabor, but “doped” in this sense was an Americanism.
209.10: “game…baggyrhatthy?” In hunting, one bags game. In U, a “bag” is Purefoy’s day’s catch of fish.
209.13: “ball:” cannon ball, given the context.
209.14: “aubette my bearb:” according to Macbeth and other sources, witches have beards.
209.16: “And I don’t mean maybe:” all of the first twenty hits on this phrase in Google Books for Joyce’s time are American in origin. So, I’m pretty sure, are all the identifiable idioms in this paragraph – “where in thunder,” for instance.
209.17: “Spey me pruth:” say the truth
209.18: “arundgirond:” “Girond” is French for “pretty.” Also, compare 239.26-7: “Whyfor we go ringing hands in hands in “gyrogyroorondo.” “Gyro” is probably being sounded in “girond.”
209.18: “aringirond…aringarouma:” as in the 239.26-7 passage above, “a ring around the rosie” is part of the soundtrack.
209.20: “drier:” counterpointed with “wild,” this means relatively dull, pedestrian.
209.22-3: “chattanoochee…chichiu:” “Chatanooga Choo-Choo.” Problem: the song came out in 1941. Either the phrase was in circulation before then (Google Books gives no help here) or this is one hell of a coincidence. (Hodgart and Worthington cited this, and were taken gently to task in AWN.)
209.25: “reconciled Romas and Reims:” the cathedrals in Rome and Rheims: patching up the pope-antipope split of the 14th century.
209.27: “Christmas box:” American readers are not likely to catch the allusion to Boxing Day – which would seem to imply that all or some of the presents are due to be returned.
209.33: “rickets:” a disease of the poor. Like “riots,” goes with the slum setting
209.33: “Smyly Boys:” Compare Portrait, where Temple calls Dixon a “smiler.”
209.34: “levee:” also, the kind of structure built to protect the shoreline from river or sea. (And, equal-oppositely, the rising of the river itself.)
209.36: “tambre:” tambourine? She’s been dancing around.
209.36: “Chipping…chir:” compare Molly’s singing: “the gay sweet chirping whistling.” ALP is singing.
210.2: “Maundy meerschaundize:” Monday is the traditional washday. “Maunder” – to wander, mentally – traces to the word, and river, Meander. Maundy Thursday is the day in Easter week when the pope washes the feet of twelve paupers. “Maundy” traces back to Christ’s “mandatum novum,” the “new commandment” that we love one another. This is probably the reason that it has come to signify the giving of alms – like the gifts that ALP is about to start handing out to her children. “Meerschaum” is often called “Venus of the Sea,” in an allusion to Venus’s birth.
210.3: “sore aringarung:” I don’t know what kind of name “aringarung” may encompass, but given the context “sore” probably counts as “Sir:” something in the order of a sarcastic allusion to His Highness.
210.3: “stinkers and heelers:” “Stinker” and “heel” were both slang terms for disreputable males.
210.7: “bully:” bully beef – tinned beef made infamous in World War I; not something one would eat if given a choice
210.7: “cartridge:” a sealed container. Goes with “bully beef”
210.9-10: “a cough…cheeks:” all signs of imminent death from fever – or, given the WW I strain in place – poison gas
210.12: “brazen nose:” noselessness – and therefore some artificial substitute, for example made of bronze – was famously a late symptom of syphilis.
201.14: “puffpuff:” a “puff” is a favorable notice in the newspapers, usually with a sense of dishonesty or favoritism. Appears in this sense in “Aeolus.”
210.15-6: “nightmarching hare for Techertim Tombigy; waterleg and gumboots:” Tombigby:” in “Oxen of the Sun,” “gumboots” are galoshes. Given the military context, “waterleg” is probably a variation on “trenchfoot,” a well-known WW I condition caused by standing in the mud and water at the bottoms of trenches. Galoshes, of course, would be a logical protection against this condition. Also, overtones of “waterlogged” and, perhaps – again, given the military setting – “gunboats.” A British infantryman was a “Tom[my] Atkins.”
210.17: “prodigal heart and fatted calves:” sounds healthy, all right, but in “Cyclops,” the decidedly unhealthy Citizen (his original, Michael Cusack, was to die shortly thereafter), seems to suffer from both – a hypertrophied “rower’s heart,” and limbs, presumably including the calves, swollen by dropsy (today called oedema. And, of course, one fattens the calf in order to kill it.
210.18: “a loaf…Skibbereen:” in the song “Old Skibbereen,” a father tells his son that he bundled him up as a baby and took him into exile because of English persecution during the Famine; the grown-up son in response vows to return to Ireland and seek vengeance. I suggest that the loaf of bread (because of the Famine) and “father’s early aim” relate to this story. “Eumaeus” (16.666) calls sailor Murphy a “Skibbereen father,” maybe (although Murphy does apparently have a grown-up son, in Ireland) just because he hails from near the Skibbereen neighborhood.
210.19-20: “a jauntingcar for Larry Doolin, the Ballyclee jackeen:” my Gaelic notes from Brendan O Hehir tell me that “Ballyclee jackeen” means “Dublin flunky” – i.e. a Dublin native who has sold out to the Ascendancy – which probably explains why, like Blazes Boylan (also accused of being a stooge for the British), he can afford to travel in a jauntingcar.
210.21: “slushmincepies:” “mincepies:” Cockney rhyming slang for “eyes.” Maybe this particular son cries a lot. Most of them have good reason to.
210.22: “a hairclip and clackdish for Penceless Peter:” I think I’ve said this before: this seems to me to come from the Sherlock Holmes story, “The Man with the Twisted Lip.” “Penceless Peter:” P.P.: Parish Priest
210.23-4: “a drowned doll, to face downwards, for modest Sister Anne Mortimer:” McHugh notes that Pliny the Elder wrote that drowned women float face downward; the same tradition can be found in Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, which we know JJ sort of consulted. Also, in the Colums’ Our Friend James Joyce (p. 154), JJ morosely translates one of Nora’s family names, “Mortimer,” into “death by sea.” “Modest:” because face-downwards obviates what movie people call “full-frontal nudity” – the assumption being that it wouldn’t be as much of a concern for a drowned man. Ergo, drowned men float upright.
210.24-5: “altar falls for Blanchisse’s bed:” Waterfalls, certainly, but good old Google confirms that “altar falls” are a feature of Catholic liturgy, either the ornamental cloth covering the altar, including the ends falling down from the edges, or the cloth placed over it. The idea here seems to be that it resembles the part of the bedspread or coverlet hanging at the sides of a made-up bed.
210.25: “Wildairs’ breechettes for Magpeg Woppington:” a later variant of this lady, “Mrs Wildhare Quickdoctor,” will show up at 227.4-5. Given that “breeches” = pants, “breechettes” should be either pants for women or abbreviated pants - or, most likely, both: knickers, say, with whom both Bloom and Joyce had what might be called a special relationship. The counterpoint with virginal “Bridget” seems entirely ironic, especially since 227.4-5 marries her to a quack doctor, i.e. one specializing, spuriously, in venereal disease. (And later we get “Population Peg,” perhaps Margaret Sanger (436.10). “Mag” and “Peg” (or “Peggy”) are both popular nicknames for someone named “Margaret,” and Margaret-Marge is Issy’s infra-dig subconscious mirror-twin alter ego, which is why I think “Magpeg” probably includes “Mad Peg.”
210.25-6: “to Sue…step:” according to tradition, “iamb,” because it sounds like the step of someone with a lame leg, derives from the Greek for “to limp.” So: Dot-Dash: metrical annotation for an iamb. I suggest that Sam’s “false step” reinforces this reading. Metrically, the entry itself would probably count as a bacchius (.--), repeated four times – something either rare or unheard of in English poetry. It’s probably irrelevant here, but FW sometimes makes metrical annotation and Morse code interchangeable - and in Morse, this would read as four W’s.
210.26-7: snakes…Presbys:” “Presbys” = bishop; St. Patrick was Bishop of Ireland. “Visa:” he was also a foreigner. “Presbys” also chimes with Picts and Scots, natives of Scotland’s Presbyterian north. The general sense of this entry: Ireland (“clover”) was invaded by seditious Protestant missionaries; Rome licensed Patrick to drive them out; a bishop besting an invasion of bishopry, he was fighting fire with fire.
210.28-9: “a reiz every morning for Standfast Dick and a drop every minute for Stumblestone Davy:” a reliable early-morning erection for the healthy youth (“cockstand” = erection) and perpetual alcoholism – traditionally a subverter of potency – for the decayed oldster. (He “takes a drop” every minute of the day.) Oliver Cromwell’s son and ineffectual successor was called “Tumbledown Dick.” “Standfast,” by contrast, pretty clearly connotes staunch qualities of an heroic cast – as in the hero of the novel Mr. Standfast, by John Buchan.
210.29: “scruboak beads:” a scrub oak is a dwarf oak. Maybe Biddy’s beads are miniatures. (As a “lookemelittle…hen” (111.22-3), she’s certainly on the small side.) Then again, as a traditional name for household slavey, “Biddy” goes with someone used to scrubbing the oak floors of her employers.
210.29-30: “two…Mobbeley:” the “apple” in “appletweed” goes, obviously, with Eva. Given 1) the chamber pot in the next entry, and 2) Uncle Charles’ affirmation in Portrait that apples are good for the bowels (several passages in FW second this), I suggest that the excremental sense of “stools” may be in play here. In any event, we’re definitely into a run about menial jobs.
210.30-1: “for Saara Philpot a Jordan vale tearorne:” the Jordan River is in a valley. Sweetheart of the executed Emmet, this Sarah is shedding – “vale tear” - a valedictory tear. “Philpot:” the chamber pots she empties are filled, so she receives a, presumably empty, tea urn. FW obviously misses few opportunities to equate tea with urine. (Conventional wisdom is that the “little language” of Journal to Stella plays a part in this.) A type of heroic Ireland now reduced to degrading penury, she corresponds to the “poor old woman,” once a queen.
210.31-32: “a pretty…Arhone:” a “fib” is a petty lie. If “Aruna” is, as McHugh says, “the Phaeton of India myth,” then her counterpart, surnamed “Arhone,” is her stay-at-home opposite: glamor vs. homeyness. Elsewhere in FW, women apply powder to whiten their skin, not their teeth. (Which makes sense here, since the Indian “Aruna” is presumably dark of complexion.) Powder rooms – the name itself is a pretty fib – were where ladies retired to powder their noses (see 200.6, above) and/or fill the pot. In general, this is a “Who is the most beautiful of them all” contest – one Helen trying to outshine the other.
210.32-3: “a whippingtop for Eddy Lawless:” Google Books confirms that a “whipping top” was a popular toy for boys; the “whip” was used to increase the top’s speed once it had been sent spinning. Also, obviously, a mordant prophecy: her lawless son will go to the whipping-post.
210.34: “foolish pitcher:” (See McHugh) The story of Kitty of Coleraine is told in the anonymous Irish ballad “The Broken Pitcher.” Kitty (foolishly) breaks the pitcher while eying the male balladeer, then, when he kisses her, swears (foolishly) that for such another she’d “break it again,” with the result that all the pitchers of Coleraine thereafter are broken.
210.34: “putty shovel:” many of these entries seem to have some connection with their predecessor or predecessors. I suggest that “putty shovel” goes with “foolish pitcher,” by way of this, from the OED: “putty medal: humorous: a worthless reward for insignificant service or achievement.” (This usage occurs in U 18.988-9.) Why “shovel” instead of “medal?” No idea.
210.35: “niester egg:” also “nest egg”
210.35: “Promoter:” see next item. Boxing matches are arranged by “promoters.” Again: continuity.
210.36: “dynamight right:” boxing talk: a “dynamite right” would be a fighter’s punch with his (mighty) right hand.
211.1: “Cloack:” cloaca-sewer: Cholera frequently occurs when sewer water gets mixed up with drinking water.
211.3: “mangolds noble to sweeden:” according to various sources, the mangel-wurzel and the swede (turnip) have often been mistaken for one another, notably in 1921 by American essayist and lexicographer H.L. Mencken. (“Swede” because bred in Sweden.)
211.4: “in his frey:” “Inisfree” in part follows earlier item’s inclusion of Yeats. Again: continuity.
211.4: “for Seumas…big:” compression of “for Seumas, though little, a crown makes him feel big.”
211.5: “cross on the back:” the donkey is supposed to have a cross inscribed on its back in memory of its carrying Jesus into Jerusalem. In some manifestation, the Shem-Jim character is a donkey.
211.6: “Twimjim:” Slim jim, schoolboy confection mentioned in Portrait. And, of course, Jim Joyce was always slim. Continuity: “Seumas” is Irish version of “James.”
211.6-7: “a praises…Bravo:” a “bravo” is a daring criminal, often a murderer.
211.7-8: “penteplenty…Magadelena:” a reworking, I think, of this, from King Lear:
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp'st her.
In any case, the same idea. “Pity” echoes “piety.”
211.8-9: “Camilla…pillow:” the names and the items resemble the Latinized sylph-names for Belinda’s furnishings in Pope’s The Rape of the Lock.
211.9-10: “for Nancy Shannon a Tuami brooch:” best guess: an ancient brooch from Tuam, found in the Shannon River, where (“for Nancy Shannon”) someone must have once lost it. JJ originally had “Tuam.” Celtic brooches were the (often ornamental) pins used to fasten cloaks. Irish museums have lots.
211.10-11: “for Dora…warmingpan:” “Hopeandwater:” soap and water. (Obvious?) Goes with “douche.” Cool shower vs. heated hot water bottle. (Obviouser?)
211.11: “a pair of Blarney braggs for Wally Meagher:” this would be the two (wind)bags of the lungs. U’s “Aeolus” works from the same conceit.
211.12: “a hairpin…fractions:” hairpin/harpoon: both Lilliputian and Brobdinagian. “Volgar fractions:” vulvar frictions. See 206.33-4 above; also “Improper frictions is maledictions” (FW 269, fn 3), which annotates a mother’s advice to her daughter to be careful not to go too far when making out with men. (In which light, it’s probably relevant that lady’s hairpins were proverbially female weapons useful for discouraging mashers; Bloom’s thoughts on the subject run along these lines.) “Frictions” becomes “fractions” because the penis in question is also a “slatepencil” – a soapstone pencil used to write on the slate in classroom lesson; FW sex is often between teacher and pupil. (“Soapstone:” more continuity: the Blarney stone of the previous entry is “the soapstone of silvry speech” (FW 140.27).)
211.14: “a bag of the blues for Funny Fitz:” “Blues:” an Americanism for depressed spirits. Opposites meet. Also, considering the laundry/soap theme in play, it might be worth noting that the “blue bag” included in McHugh is so named because it contains “blue,” used to stiffen shirts, collars, etc. (In Portrait, Dilly Dedalus is “going for blue,” during a family wash.) Maybe Fitz is a dandy.
211.14: “Missa pro Messa:” Missed (unkept) promise. “Taff de Taff: = Taffy = Welshman, proverbial liar.
211.16: “Caducus:” Cadenus – Swift? Long shot: as an Anglican (“Angelus”) in an R.C. country (Rogerson Crusoe’s”), he is expected to observe the Catholic (not Anglican) Friday fast.
211.18: “Victor Hugonot:” Victor Hugo, who was “not” a Huguenot.
211.18: “rake:” a successful ladies’ man. “Stiff” may go with this sense.
211.20: “J.F.X. Coppinger:” have dealt with Coppinger in an earlier list of annotations. In Catholic countries “F.X” usually stands for “Francis Xavier” and may serve as testament to the bearer’s (non-Protestant) devotion to the faith.
211.21: “five spoiled squibs:” given “tenpounten” earlier, I suggest that “squibs” includes “quid:” she’s getting half as much as him. (Or not: often, there are two of her.)
I can’t connect the dots here, but a “tenpounder” is a kind of cannon – which would certainly make a “pop” when fired – and a “squib” is a kind of firework, proberbially unimpressive. (Especially, one imagines, when spoiled)
211.22: “Infanta…Maggi:” again, continuity: it’s not by chance that Maggie follows the Infanta.
211.23-4: “the heftiest…Ferry:” “Livienbad” indicates a continental spa, typically with warm or hot waters; “Ferry” sounded “fiery,” would go with such a place; both counterpoint the “frozenmeat woman:” together, they’ll thaw her out (thus, one presumes, allowing her to rejoin the Liffey’s “Livienbad” streams.) “Lust to Living bad:” the path of sin. (Spas were often thought of as places of loosened morals, especially between the sexes.) I suggest that “frozenmeat woman” is a derisive term for a woman whose fortune, either by marriage or inheritance, derives from the selling of meat, frozen.
Also, yes: by Joyce’s time, “frigid” had the sexual connotation it holds today.
211.24: “spas:” Again: continuity! General sense of this entry: he’s falling apart with age, and in response turning to such consolations as the modern world can offer to anyone well-off enough to pay for them: spas, sentimental uplifting poetry, sentimentally saccharine uplifting lectures.
211.25: “a change of naves:” aside from Sir Amory’s change of names, this is change of “naves,” – i.e. churches. “Joys of ills:” apart from continuing the theme of improving, uplifting rubbish, this sounds Augustine’s felix culpa.
211.26: “Amoor:” love, French style, vengeance for love betrayed, Othello-the-Moor-style
211.26-7: “a guillotine shirt:” probably doing the obvious here, but a shirt worn by anyone going to the guillotine would definitely result in a sanguinely red “red breast.” Not clear why “Reuben” should wind up decapitated, however: as Gifford notes, Judas, who hanged himself, was believed to be of “the tribe of Reuben.” The “Robin Redbreast” being sounded may indicate that Reuben, like Brennan, was a robber: guilty by association.
211.28: “oakanknee:” paired with Scott, who presumably got his mosquito bites because of his exploration into the tropics, this suggests cause and effect: the sawyer got his leg sawed off and consequently has a wooden leg.
211.29: “a C3 peduncle for Karmalite Kane:” more continuity: Sawyer has a wooden leg; Kane has a defective arm, earning him his C3 rating. (McHugh quotes Joyce’s note here: “C3 arm weak.”) A “caramel cane” is the caramel equivalent of a candy cane, but alas Google Books has no hits before 1940. (For what it’s worth, G.B. does reveal that cane sugar was often colored with caramel.) In any case, Bloom in “Lestrygonians” immediately associates the Carmelites with caramel. “Karmalite” signals the Carmelites (who include both men and women) maybe because, as a contemplative order, its spiritual exercises recall those of the Karma-conscious Buddhists.
211.32: “Donn Joe Vance:” Might be worth noting that this not only alludes to “Don Giovanni” but sounds like a clumsy Englishing of the name; compare Byron’s “Don Juan,” where we are told that a Britisher would pronounce “Juan” to rhyme with “new one.”
211.33: “Honnorbright Merreytrickx:” Final x – French plural ending – certainly in fun. “Honour Bright:” common British expression to indicate complete truthfulness. “Merreytrikx:” meretricious: thoroughly dishonest. Coinciding – or at least paired – contraries. (Why, I wonder, does this give the American spelling, “Honor?”)
211.35-6: “bellows, below me blow me:” disappointingly, this probably has no sexual overtones, “guilty” or not. More likely to be pertinent is the OED definition of “bellows” as “lungs” – and before that, as noise-producing component of organs, accordions, harmoniums, etc. – in which regard the English expression “blow me” or “I’ll be blowed” may come into play.
“Hushaby, rocker:” may be inverted to “Rockaby, husher.”
Given the musical cast of this entry, plus, as noted, the presence of “Il Trovatore” in “Elletrouvetout,” “Ida Ida” can probably be read as “IdAida.” (More continuity: “Don Giovanni,” three lines up.) Also, as “I,I,” an occurrence of the “mishemishe” motif established on 3.9, which as it happens also goes with a bellows (“bellowsed”).
211.1-212.1: “whatever you like to swilly or swash, Yuiness or Yennessy:” It’s surely relevant that, in an Irish pub, Guinness would be the commonest order, whereas Hennessy, then as now quite expensive, would be for the toffs. This is, or echoes, a publican telling some customer that he can order his choice of fare, from lowest to highest. “Swilly:” swilling: drinking ad libitum, something that goes more easily with Guinness than with Hennessy. Wish I could detect some such meaning in “swash,” but I can’t. The next item, “Laagen or Niger,” counterpointing a light-colored, wheat-fermented beer (lager) with something black (e.g. Guinness), continues the pub-fare thread.
212.5: “pig’s bladder balloon:” pig’s bladders were used for condoms – notably by Casanova – and, blown up, as balloons, in various festivals.
212.7: “Briery:” aside from “briar,” “Briony” was once a popular female name, also a medicinal (and, overdone, poisonous) herb, thereby maintaining the floral thread in this segment. As an adjective, “briery,” not surprisingly, means “briar-like.”
212.9: “Flora Ferns and Fauna Fox-Goodman:” Flora and Fauna
212.10: “Grettna Greaney:” according to Ellmann, “Gretna Green” was the name facetiously ascribed to Nora, because of her elopement with Joyce; reason for Gretta’s name in “The Dead.”
212.10: “Penelope Inglesante:” Odysseus’ Penelope’s ingleside – the hearth, center of domestic life, abode of homebodies. Occurs in this sense in U, which also gives us “Penelope stay-at-home.” Probably “sante” is in there to convey angel-of-the-hearth sanctity.
212.10-1: “Lezba Licking:” Odds are, this encompasses “lesbian” – the word, with its current meaning, was certainly around in Joyce’s time. (After all, how many other “lesb” or “lezb” words are out there?) In which case, “Licking” rather falls under suspicion.
212.13: “Irmak Elly:” Irma Kelly
212.14: “Laura:” laurel. Continuity: we’re in a patch of female – flora/fauna transformations: Philomena, Lily, Daisy. Daphne became laurel to escape Apollo. “Fountainoy:” given the aquacentric nature of this chapter, “fountainy” may be in here. My wife the gardener tells me that laurel requires a lot of watering, so the vicinity of a fountain would be in order.
212.14: “Marie Xavier Agnes Daisy Frances de Sales Macleay:” by her name, a super-duper Catholic. See note to 211.20, above.
212.16: “grapes:” I question whether these are testicles: rather, I, think, the ovum, which ripens once a month and is either fertilized or discarded in menstruation. The context is female and heavy in allusions to menstruation – the curse passed on from mother to daughter at puberty.
212.16-7: “ripe before reason:” neither rhyme nor reason
212.17: “vinedress:” winepress; goes with “grapes.” Because of the close association, both in FW and in general, between red wine and blood, this is another allusion to menstruation. As a dress made of vines, compare this to the green dress of leaves noted above at 202.3.
Probably an allusion here to a line from “The Battle Hymn of the Republic:” “He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,” which in turn draws on the “Revelations” prophecy that God in his wrath will return to “tread out the winepress,” that is crush all sinners. Again: blood, blood, blood. Hovering in the background is the familiar conceit that the curse visited on women was menstruation as well as the pain of labor.
212.18: “penmight:” “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
212.20: “dusind:” according to Derek Attridge, the Umsidusi River in South Africa, commonly abbreviated as “Dusi.”
212.22: “crinoline:” derives from Latin for “hair” – perhaps ALP’s hair, identified with the river, in the sense that the river has delivered these “spoiled”s, left at the shore
212.24: “plague:” French “plage,” shore or beach
212.25: “raft:” 1. float it back, like a raft; 2. “reft:” take by force
212.31-2: “estheryear’s marsh narcissus:” The narcissus blooms in March. Oil of narcissus is sometimes an ingredient of perfumes.
212.32: “vanitty fair:” Narcissus died from vanity. The two t’s presumably trace the two s’s in “Vanessa.”
212.33: “foul strips…:” I think the logic here is that the paper snuff-stained cornets are made out of strips torn from the bible – enough to disgust any pious lady, not even considering that the bible in question is Protestant. Perhaps an echo of “full stops”
213.2-4: From a mishearing of the preceding names: “old” (line 1) and “Mill” (line 2) and “On Woman” (line 2), selectively heard amid deafness and water-noise, become mashed up with Mill “on the Floss” (line 2) as an old man named Miller on top of a floozie (or floozies) hence “Ja, a swamp for Altmuehler [old Miller] and a stone for his flossies! I know how racy they move his wheel.” “Racy,” aside from meaning “sexually forward,” comes from the associative link to “mill race,” as does “stone” from “millstone.” A stone, probably, because of tradition of stoning adulteresses.
213.4: “blawcauld:” blue from the cold, but “cauldron” derives from the Latin for “hot bath.” That freezing water could make one’s hands feel hot was one of Bruno’s favorite examples of the coincidence of contraries.
213.5: “that piece of pattern chayney:” a vignette, here, of multilayered perceptual ambiguity. Does “piece” mean a broken-off fragment? Or one item out of a set? (If the latter, it’s strange that anything so valued should wind up dumped in the river. On the other hand, if the former, why should she be upset at losing track of it? (213.6-7) (These women are variants of Kate, a scavenger – that is, someone who looks to find treasures in trash.) And, is it possible to tell, under the circumstances? And is its blueness in the thing itself, or from the water covering it - or even from the “blue” noted at 212.27? And, along the same line, could the “pattern” just come from the watery “swirls?
213.8-9: “gihon:” may be relevant that this particular river is one of the four running out of Eden mentioned in “Genesis.” It means “gushing,” which certainly seems to fit the case here. In any event, I think that what she’s saying is, “Oh, go on! I love a gabber!” – “gabber” meaning, first and foremost, someone who gabs a lot. Nothing necessarily sinister or fraudulent seems to be implied.
213.9-10: “Regn onder river. Flies do your float.” Weirdly, I think these two sentences go together. The flies who float on water are the long-legged flies of Yeats poem “Long-legged Fly,” and the points where the ends of their legs meet the water tension of the stream resemble the spots where raindrops meet water surface. So: “Flies, do your float!” something along the order of “a Busby Berkeley-ish “Girls, go into your dance!”
213.9-10: “This is the life for mere:” Meres – swamps – are thick.
213.14: “and my cold cher’s gone ashley:” My cold (because dead) sweetheart has been cremated. Given the tree context, “ashley” probably includes the ashtree, source of Stephen’s ashplant. Hard not to hear “culture” in “cold cher,” and “ashley” might be heard as “astray,” but neither of these women seem to be the sorts to complain about such things.
213.24-6: “A man…only:” The sheets are stained red from the bridal night. That’s why she has to give them extra washing.
213.27: “strollers:” baby strollers, i.e. prams
213.27: “suety:” covered with suet, as a butcher’s apron would naturally be, plus “sooty.”
213.27-8: “hold to the fire:” 1. to dry them out; 2. to read invisible ink. Goes with the spying implications of “code,” does it not?
213.29: “Good mother:” Godmother.
213.34-6: “And all…hats:” I suggest that the annotations here need more explaining. 1. Number 9 is a big hat size. 2. Someone with a “big head” could be either a) (phrenologically) exceptionally intelligent, b) a “swelled head” – someone with a high opinion of himself, or c) hung over. 3. “Yangsee’s hats” brings in the Chinese, who compared to Caucasians (including the Irish) have small heads. 4. Therefore an Irishman, whatever the reason for his largish head, would have an even higher opinion of himself when trying on a Chinese hat.
214.1: “went bobbing:” because, being made of oak, it floated.
214.1: “rounded up:” wound up. Also: rosary beads are round, and one says the rosary by going around it.
214.4: “loup of the years:” given that each division of the rosary is a “decade,” the whole might plausibly be called a “loop of the years.”
214.8-9: “I need, I need!:” Indeed, indeed
214.13: “Yonne there!:” Yonder
214.14: “Amphitheayter:” In America, “theayter” would be considered an infra-dig pronunciation of “theatre.” The same in Ireland?
214.16-18: “Throw the cobwebs…stiff:” At least up to “stiff,” this is one of the two women answering back to the charge that she behaved improperly in public, probably while under the influence.
214.20: “Were you lifting your elbow…:” And this is part of the response to the response.
214.20: “glazy cheeks:” a symptom of either inebriation or alcoholism
214.22: “rere gait’s:” in the America of my childhood, “rear gate” and “rear door” were slang for exposed buttocks. Obviously goes with “butts,” in the same line
214.22: Greek or Roman: i.e., ancient. The “rheum” embedded in “creakorheuman” goes with the general theme of ancient decrepitude.
214.23: “marthared mary allacook:” Martha and Mary. (Martha is the busy one who gets rebuked.) As “allacook,” she’s the kitchen drudge. (Connects her to Kate.) Also, martyred Mary.
214.24: “pulse:” edible peas or lentils: was proverbial for the sort of minimal fare eaten by hermits, ascetics, etc. Goes with the regimen of St Margaret Mary Alacoque, noted in McHugh.
Medically, an overactive pulse would presumably contribute to varicose veins.
214.24: “pramaxle:” perhaps obvious: the axle of the wheel of a perambulator.
214.31-33: “golden..Icis…ass:” In The Golden Ass of Apuleius, the speaker, having been transformed into an ass, encounters the goddess Isis (rising from the sea) and prays to be turned back into human form. I’ve written elsewhere that this scene is behind the opening pages of III.1, and would add that the description of Isis turns up in parts of the description of ALP here.
215.6: “chart:” star chart
215.7: “Forgivemequick:” that is, hurry up and absolve me before I die.
215.10: “tow home:” go home. Given “Towy” in the next line, could these ways be along the tow paths of the canals? Google tells me that Rathmines borders on the Royal Canal.
215.21: “turkiss indienne:” American Indian jewelry is often made from turquoise.
215.21-2: “milkidmass…fair:” Michaelmas Fair. (Much display of wares: goes with “markets,” above.
215.25: “howmulty plurators:” multiplicators, i.e. multipliers: can apply to prodigious breeders.
215.31-2: “Flittering bats, fieldmice bawk talk.” In “Nausicaa” Bloom also compare bats to mice. Bawk talk: backtalk, the echolocation (from what in “Nausicaa” is a “ba” sound), bouncing back from nearby object, that allows bats to navigate. Also heard, I think, in “Whawk?” (215.30) – compare “bawk of bats” (215.33).
215.33: “Thom Malone:” to me, sounds like “Tom-all-Alone’s,” the pestilential slum of Bleak House
215.35: “yonder elm…Shaun or Shem:” I think the latter is a mishearing of the former. The same thing is happening with the sequence “tittering daughters of,” “chittering waters of,” “liffeying waters of,” and “Livia’s daughtersons.”
215.36: “Dark hawks hear us:” admittedly a long shot, this: an invocation to (Saint) Dorcas, a.k.a. Tabitha, biblical widow and patroness of women doing good works. I think that Dorcas put in an appearance at 470.7. Brewer notes the charitable “Dorcas Society,” named for the woman “who made coats and garments for widows.”