Our comments are in brackets and in footnotes; the numbers in parentheses refer to the pages of the Viking Press edition of
Finnegans
Wake, ?
A-Skeleton-Key-to-Finnegans-Wake
) .
.
.
"The fall," and the strange polysyllable following it, introduce us to the propelling impulse of Finnegans Wake. The noise made by the thumping of Finnegan's body tumbling down the ladder is identical with the Viconian thunderclap, the voice of God's wrath, which terminates the old aeon and starts the cycle of history anew.
of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy. . . .
"Old Parr" was the nickname of Thomas Parr (? ? ? ? -? ? ? ? ! ), of Shropshire, who lived to be one hundred and fifty-two years old. "Parr" and "wallstrait" are also plays on the rise and fall of stockmarket values in the modern world. The fall of this Old Parr is the fall of Adam in the gar- den, Finnegan from the wall, HCE in Phoenix Park.
The great fall of the offwall entailed at such short notice the pftjschute* of Finnegan, erse solid man, that the humptyhillhead of
? ? * "Pftjschute" suggests "chute," also the hissing rush of a falling meteor--Lucifer falling into Hell.
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Synopsis and Demonstration ? ?
? humself prumptly sends an unquiring one well to the west in quest of his tumptytumtoes . . .
Note the lumpishness of the wording, and the suggestion of the fall and scattering of Humpty Dumpty, the Cosmic Egg. Inquiring tourists who wish to trace the anatomy of the fallen giant in the Dublin landscape must seek his head in the Hill of Howth and his upturned toes at Castle Knock in a cemetery in Phoenix Park. In this Park the Orangemen (in- vaders) have been laid to rest upon the Green since the first Dubliner loved Anna Liffey. This thought is concluded in the following lines:
and their upturnpikepointandplace is at the knock out in the park where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since devlins- first loved livvy.
In the next paragraph there rages around the upturned toes of the giant a turmoil comparable to that of the Roman twilight, when Ostrogoth battled Visigoth; comparable to the chaos of the deluge, where oyster battled fish; comparable to the disorder of the underworld, where an Aristophanic frog chorus croaks in a murk:
What clashes here of wills gen wonts, oystrygods gaggin fishygods! Bre? kkek Ke? kkek Ke? kkek Ke? kkek! Ko? ax Ko? ax Ko? ax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Qua? ouauh! Where the Baddelaries partisans are still out to math- master Malachus Micgranes and the Verdons catapelting the cami- balistics out of the Whoyteboyce of Hoodie Head. Assiegates and boomeringstroms. Sod's brood, be me fear! Sanglorians, save! Arms appeal with larms, appalling. Killykillkilly: a toll, a toll. What chance cuddleys, what cashels aired and ventilated!
Clearly, the tone of the entire passage is brawling and primitive; early warriors are out to kill each other. This much is indicated by "clashes," "par- tisans," "arms," "catapelting," and "boomeringstroms. " But who are these warriors? They are "wills gen wonts"--the have-not's vs. the have's--in- vaders vs. native inhabitants. There is a hint that the passage is symbolic of the fall of Rome; it also contains references to early Irish religious quarrels.
"Oystrygods gaggin fishygods": Ostrogoths vs. Visigoths; also a refer- ence to the shellfish-eaters, said to have preceded the fish-eaters on the coasts of Ireland. "Gaggin" hints at the Germanic gegen meaning "against"; also conveys the idea that the conquest was rammed down the throats of the conquered.
? "Bre? kkek Ke? kkek Ko? ax Ualu Qua? ouauh," etc. : The guttural sound "bre? kkek ko? ax," borrowed from Aristophanes' comedy The Frogs, suggests a swampy, damp terrain where these early struggles took place. Allegorically, this passage hints at the post-Flood battles of primitive man.
"Ualu" and "Qua? ouauh": Welsh cries of lament.
"Mathmaster": Math is Anglo-Saxon for "mow" or "cut down," and Sanskrit for "annihilate. " It is also Hindustani for "hut" and "monastery. " This word says: "to overpower by cutting down men and annihilating their homes and monasteries. "
"Badellaries; Malachus Micgranes": Apparently Celtic clans and fami- lies involved in early tribal wars.
"Catapelting the camibalistics": "Catapelting" suggests both "catapult" and "pelting. " The first syllable of "camibalistics" is Celtic for "crooked and perverse. " In the entire word double connotations of barbaric flesh-eating practices and ballistics are conveyed. The sentence now runs: "Certain tribes were hammering the perverse cannibalistic instincts out of their rivals by means of catapults and primitive weapons. "
"Whoyteboyce of Hoodie Head": The "White-boys" were a band of religious fanatics who went about hooded much after the fashion of the Ku Klux Klan. "Hoodie Head" is perhaps, too, the Hill of Howth.
"Assiegates and boomeringstroms": The first two syllables of "assie- gates" are identical with those of assie? ger (French), "to besiege. " Again, they suggest "assegai," a spear. The last part of the word being "gates," the sum becomes "attempts by means of spears and darts to lay siege to city or castle gates. " "Boomeringstroms" suggests both "boomerangs" and the booming sounds of cannon. Strom is a Scandinavian word for "whirlpool," which draws men down to death.
"Sod's brood, be me fear": "Sod" is "Old Sod" or Ireland. "Children of Ireland, I fear for you"; also "I fear you. " Sod's brood suggests "God's blood. "
"Sanglorians, save": The first syllable of "sanglorians" is sang, French for "blood"; the first two syllables are "sanglo," which has the same sound as sanglot, French for "sob. " Obviously, the word has overtones of blood and tears. Blood and tears for what? For "glori," which occurs in the very middle of the word. "Save" can be construed as either the Latin salve, meaning "hail," or the English "save," meaning "to protect. " The whole
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Synopsis and Demonstration ? ?
? expression is in the vocative: Joyce is addressing someone. "You who fought in blood and tears for glory's sake, I hail you. " Or to use an alter- native rendition of "save," the expression becomes: "May God protect you who fought in blood and tears for glory. "
Always seek in a Joycean expression an antinomy or contradiction. He delights in saying two opposite things in the same words. Thus, while there was plenty of "blood and tears" in the obscure Irish wars, there was but little "glory. " The first syllable of "sanglorians" suggests sans, French for "without. " So it is quite possible that Joyce ironically says here, "You who fought in blood and tears without glory. "
"Arms apeal with larms": Larm[e]s, French for "tears," repeats the grief theme. La? rm, German for "noise," gives the din of battle.
"Killykillkilly, a toll, a toll": nothing but killing; a humorous half- reference to the two Kilkenny cats which fought till nothing was left but their tails. "Toll" hints at the sad ringing of bells for dead heroes. Also, the terrific cost in lives. The word "atoll" means a coral island. Ireland, of course, is an island. "A toll, a toll" echoes the Irish brogue "a-tall, a-tall. "
"What chance cuddleys": "Cuddleys" suggests "cudgels"; what an op- portunity for cudgeling! The word also has overtones of softness and weak- ness. What chance would a weakling have? Or again, "cuddle" is suggested. What opportunities for chance love-making (in the lawless manner of the Viconian giants).
"What cashels aired and ventilated! " "Cashel": a circular wall enclos- ing a church or group of ecclesiastical buildings; a stone building. Turning to a gazetteer, we find "Cashel, population ? ,? ? ? , Tipperary County, at the base of Rock of Cashel, ? ? ? feet high, on which are ruins of a cathe- dral, a chapel and a tower. " Translated, the expression becomes, "What church walls were broken down, what fresh air was blown through musty religious institutions by these religious wars! "
What bidimetoloves sinduced by what tegotetabsolvers! What true feeling for their's hayair with what strawng voice of false jiccup!
"Bid-me-to-loves" are temptresses; "te^te-a`-te^te absolvers" are father confessors. "Teg" is a lamb or woman. "Goat" (got) is the animal of lech- ery. Things are so topsy-turvy that the preachers of God's word lead the prostitutes into sin.
? "The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau"; Isaac's words before blessing the usurper of the birthright are mingled with an echo of "Hayfoot, Strawfoot, bellyful of beansoup! " Hayfoot and Strawfoot are antagonistic brothers.
O here here how hoth sprowled met the duskt the father of fornica- tionists but, (O my shining stars and body! ) how hath fanespanned most high heaven the skysign of soft advertisement! But waz iz? Iseut? Ere were sewers? * The oaks of ald now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes lay. Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown sec- ular phoenish.
The "father of fornicationists," a primordial man, has met the dust; but the rainbow, sign of the promise of his renewal, now emerges. The prom- ise is here associated with the name and theme of Iseult, who enacts in Finnegans Wake a dual role; first, of tempting the all-father to his fall, and then, of gathering up and handing forward the reanimated remains. As mother, she will receive his substance and renew it in her children. As charming virgin, she is the rainbow to beckon him forward again, in the coy, teasing game of expectation and despair.
With the image of Iseult and the theme of the rainbow hope, the motif of the Cycle comes before us. The oaks of the past have fallen into peat, yet where ashes lay there now spring living elms. And the phallic pun "Phall if you but will, rise you must" gives a Rabelaisian twist to the wheel of life. Nothing will end: apparent Finish will be converted to Phoenix-rebirth, as the Fall in the Phoenix Park of Eden entailed the miracle of Redemption.
These few lines of commentary are an admittedly inadequate gloss on the first four paragraphs for Finnegans Wake. All the literal and allegorical ref- erences compressed into these paragraphs would fill many volumes with historical, theological, and literary data. But even should the reader one day find himself in control of the entire bulk of this material, there would re- main to be conquered the depths of moral and anagogical implication.
? ? * In the list of errata that James Joyce prepared shortly before his death, he introduced these three question marks.
? ? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake
? Here no commentary could do more than furnish introductory clues; for it is impossible to exhaust the import of a poetical image or a mythologi- cal symbol. The present interpretation can only hint at some of the secrets of Joyce's language and indicate the great outlines of his method: the expe- riencing of the work must be left to the sensibilities of the apt reader.
Suffice it to say, that three great moments have presented themselves during the course of these opening paragraphs: (? ) The Fall, (? ) The Wake, (? ) The Rise. The first is associated with the theme of the thunderclap and "pftjschute"; the second with the quarrels and loves of human history; the third with the sky sign, the elms, the phallus, and the phoenix. The Fall is, in a profound sense, prehistoric, and the Rise will take place at the end of time. Meanwhile, the living and quarreling of the Wake is a kind of fer- mentation or superfetation of maggot sons and daughters out of the body of the gigantic sleeper, "doublin their mumper" all the time. And no mat- ter where we turn, if we regard carefully any phenomenon or complication of the world picture, we shall find that the surface configurations disinte- grate to reveal, ever present, the foundation substance of the old World Father. As his initials emerge through the pattern of "Howth Castle and Environs," so through all the loves, all the brother betrayals, and all the ventilatings of cashels, he will go on. By a commodius vicus of recircula- tion, riverrun will bring us always, ever, and only back to Him.
? ? book i
? THE BOOK OF THE PARENTS ?
Q
? ? chapter i Finnegan's Fall
? [The story of Finnegan, freed from the thematic entanglements of the first four paragraphs, now begins to run in a narrative style comparatively easy to follow. Henceforth a thin line-tracing of the basic story of Finnegans Wake will suffice to guide the reader. It is not our purpose to elucidate fully any page or group of images but to weld together the fundamental links of the narrative itself.
Our comments are in brackets and in footnotes; the numbers in parentheses refer to the pages of the Viking Press edition of Finnegans Wake, ? ? ? ? .
[The first twenty-five pages of Joyce's narrative (? -? ? ) deal directly with the subject of the title theme: the fall, the wake, and the portended resur- rection of the prehistoric hod carrier Finnegan. ]
(? ) Primordial Big Master Finnegan, free mason, lived, loved, and la- bored in the broadest way imaginable: piled buildings on the river banks, swilled ale, jigged with his little Annie, and would calculate the altitude of
? ?
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Finnegan's Fall ? ?
? the skyscraper erections, (? ) hierarchitectitiptitoploftical,* rising under his hand.
He was of the first to bear arms and a name: Wassaily Booslaeugh of Riesengeborg. His crest, green, showed in silver a he-goat pursuing two maids, and bore an escutcheon with silver sun-emblem and archers at the ready. Its legend: Hohohoho! Hahahaha! Mr. Finn you're going to be Mr. Finn-again! In the morn you're vine, in the eve you're vinegar. Mr. Funn, you're going to be fined again!
What brought about that Thursday-morning tragedy? Our house still rocks to the rumor of it; there is a shabby chorus of those who would blame him; the evidence is difficult to evaluate. --Therefore, stay us (O Sustainer! ) in our search for truth. --It may have been a misfired brick, or perhaps a collapse of back promises; but as sure as Adam bit the apple of Eve, what with the noise of the (? ) traffic below, hod carrier Finnegan, high above, fell tippling full, his hod shook, he stumbled, he was dead. He is now fit for a mastaba-tomb. ?
[We attend the Wake. Twelve dismal citizens, sighing his praises, lay him out:] "MacCool, MacCool, orra why did ye die? " There is a bottle of whisky at his feet, and a barrowload of Guinness's over his head.
[The scene begins to disintegrate. Outlines of the hills show through the lineaments of the wake. ] Hurrah! It is all one and the same: Finnegan's form is that of the landscape. Let us peep at him, prostrate. From Shopalist to Bailywick he calmly extensolies. By the bay winds he is bewailed. (? ) Annie's flutelike trochees wake him. Grace before glutton; Amen. Grampupus is fallen down but grinny sprids the boord. ? Fish, bread, and ale are placed around the bier. But the moment you would quaff off the drink and sink tooth into the food (the communion drink and food of his
? flower-white body), behold, he is smolten in our midst. The Wake scene, like a fadeout, melts away.
Yet, we may still behold the brontoichthyan* form outlined in the contours of the land: a giant hill recumbent by the stream he loved, HCE beside his ALP. [The Wake scene, having withdrawn into the world interior, is now to be thought of as constituting the substratum of all existence. It is the arche- typal Form of all forms. Through the next seventeen pages (? -? ? ) are to be studied various evidences, geographical and historical, of the fallen Finnegan's all suffusing, all-feeding, slumberous presence. Not only the landscape is to be reviewed (? , ? ? , ? ? , ? ? , ? ? ) but typical epochs of human history (? -? ? ), medieval history (? ? -? ? ), prehistory (? ? -? ? ); also, a few frag- ments of folklore (? ? -? ? ); a comical vaudeville song; and the dump heap in our own backyard (? ? ). As the eye regards each, it slightly disintegrates to re-
veal an unmistakable trait or two of the grotesque Finnegan within.
[First, the landscape:]
The head of him can be seen at Ben Howth. His clay feet swarded in
grass, stick up, not far from Chapelizod, where he last fell on them--by the Magazine Wall, where the Maggies seen all, while the three spying soldiers lay in ambush. ? From here a view (? ) may be had of the little Wellington Museum in Phoenix Park, a charming waterloose country round about, and two pretty white villages, like two saucy Maggies themselves, amidst the foliages. Penetrators are permitted into the museum. For her passkey supply to the janitrix, the mistress Kathe. Tip. ?
? ? * Bronte, "thunder"; ichthys, "fish": thunder-fish. The reader will think of the Leviathan, whose flesh, together with the flesh of Behemoth, is the food of those in Paradise; also, the fish symbol of Christ, whose flesh is the food of the faithful.
? Finnegan's fall was on the identical spot where HCE is to become involved in his misad- venture with two girls and three soldiers. On this spot there at present stands a museum dedicated to the memory of Wellington. Wellington is an incarnation of HCE. The three spying soldiers will bear various names in various parts of the text. The names will carry suggestions of one or another of England's imperialistic wars. Wellington, it will be re- membered, served in India before his campaigns against Napoleon; hence a sepoy, Shimar Shin, appears as one of the three soldiers at the conclusion of the present episode. [[Note that there is no actual Wellington Museum in Phoenix Park. --ELE]]
? The repetition through Finnegans Wake of the word "tip" finally turns out to be a dream transformation of the sound of a branch knocking against HCE's window as he sleeps be- side his wife in the upper room. This branch is the finger of Mother Nature, in her des- iccated aspect, bidding for attention.
? ? * This is a good word on which to practice. Note the way in which it combines the words "hierarchy," "architect," "tipsy," and "toplofty," climbing up and up, beyond every ex- pectation, like a skyscraper. In Joyce's text, the phrase "with larrons o'toolers clittering up and tombles a'buckets clottering down" refers to Lawrence O'Toole and Thomas a` Becket, bishops respectively of Dublin and Canterbury in the time of Henry II. The for- mer advanced his personal career, the latter was martyred.
? An Egyptian mummy tomb of stone.
? The key theme of the Wake: in a communion feast the substance of All-Father is served
by All-Mother to the universal company.
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Finnegan's Fall ? ?
? Belchum; poor the pay! This is Wellington, brandishing his telescope on the runaway jinnies. A (? ? ) triad of soldiers is observing him; one of them is a Hindu sepoy, Shimar Shin. Suddenly Wellington picks up the half of a hat from the filth and hangs it on the crupper of his big white horse. (The last joke of the Willingdone. ) The crupper wags with the hat to insult the sepoy, who, mad as a hatter, jumps up with a cry. Whereupon, Wellington, a born gentle- man, tenders a matchbox to the cursing Shimar Shin. The do-for-him sepoy blows the whole of the half of the hat off the top of the tail on the back of Wellington's big wide harse. (Bullseye! Game! ) This way out of the museum.
Phew, but that was warm.
[Dense with figures half lost in the dust of war, the turbulent Museum scene amplifies the private sin of HCE into an image of the hero through- out the course of history. Toward the middle of Finnegans Wake (? ? ? -? ? ) an even denser, dustier episode, namely, that of the Russian General at Sevastopol, will culminate the development of this blood-and-tears theme. In the wild heat of battle, life discloses its most shameful secret--i. e. , HCE's sin in the Park.
[We turn from the museum to the countryside, now a silent field after battle. Round about are twelve pilfering little birds, metamorphosed dupli- cates of the citizens at the Wake. The janitrix herself, in a bird transforma- tion, moves through the twilight, gathering relics (as widowed Isis gathered the scattered fragments of her dismembered husband, Osiris). ]
(? ? ) We know where she lives; it's a candle-little house of a month and one windies. * The vagrant wind's awaltz around the piltdowns and on every blasted knollyrock there's a gnarlybird ygathering. Old Lumproar is lying under his seven red shields;? our pigeon pair has flown; (? ? ) the three
? [This Museum should be regarded as a kind of reliquary containing var- ious mementoes symbolizing not only the eternal brother-conflict, but also the military and diplomatic encounters, exchanges and betrayals of recorded history. ] An old woman conducts a party through the museum, pointing out relics from the battle career of her hero Wellington, the Iron Duke. There are exhibits under glass and pictures on the walls. A flag, a bullet, a military hat; Duke Wellington on his big white horse; three soldiers crouch- ing in a ditch; a pair of Napoleon's jinnies,* making believe to read a book of strategy; and a sex-caliber telescope through which the Duke trains on the flanks of the jinnies. The reader begins to recognize through all the shooting-gallery noises and the smoke-confused scenes of battle the om- nipresent story of a great man, two temptresses, and three soldiers. ? Be- tween the Duke and the jinnies dispatches go back and forth. This (? ) is me, Belchum, bearer of the dispatches. ? First, a dispatch from the jinnies to annoy the Willingdone: "Behold thy tiny frau, hugacting. Signed: Nap. " This is me, Belchum, carrying the dispatch. And this is Wellington's an- swer, displayed on the regions rare of me, Belchum: "Figtreeyou! Damn fairy Ann--c? a ne fait rien. Vo^tre: Willingdone. " (That was the first joke of Wellington. Tit for tat. ) This is me, Belchum, in his twelve-league boots, footing it back to the jinnies. [Napoleon and Wellington are exchanging in- sults, Napoleon being represented through the jinnies. ]
Here now are some more exhibits: Balls, cannon fodder, other views of the jinnies, the soldiers, and the Willingdone. The Wellington cry is "Brum! Brum! Cumbrum! " The jinnies' cry is "Donnerwetter! Gott strafe England! " To the tune of "It's a long way to Tipperary," the jinnies run away. This is me,
? ? * This word refers both to a couple of young mares on the battlefield, and to a pair of Napoleonic filles du re? giment.
"The fall," and the strange polysyllable following it, introduce us to the propelling impulse of Finnegans Wake. The noise made by the thumping of Finnegan's body tumbling down the ladder is identical with the Viconian thunderclap, the voice of God's wrath, which terminates the old aeon and starts the cycle of history anew.
of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy. . . .
"Old Parr" was the nickname of Thomas Parr (? ? ? ? -? ? ? ? ! ), of Shropshire, who lived to be one hundred and fifty-two years old. "Parr" and "wallstrait" are also plays on the rise and fall of stockmarket values in the modern world. The fall of this Old Parr is the fall of Adam in the gar- den, Finnegan from the wall, HCE in Phoenix Park.
The great fall of the offwall entailed at such short notice the pftjschute* of Finnegan, erse solid man, that the humptyhillhead of
? ? * "Pftjschute" suggests "chute," also the hissing rush of a falling meteor--Lucifer falling into Hell.
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Synopsis and Demonstration ? ?
? humself prumptly sends an unquiring one well to the west in quest of his tumptytumtoes . . .
Note the lumpishness of the wording, and the suggestion of the fall and scattering of Humpty Dumpty, the Cosmic Egg. Inquiring tourists who wish to trace the anatomy of the fallen giant in the Dublin landscape must seek his head in the Hill of Howth and his upturned toes at Castle Knock in a cemetery in Phoenix Park. In this Park the Orangemen (in- vaders) have been laid to rest upon the Green since the first Dubliner loved Anna Liffey. This thought is concluded in the following lines:
and their upturnpikepointandplace is at the knock out in the park where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since devlins- first loved livvy.
In the next paragraph there rages around the upturned toes of the giant a turmoil comparable to that of the Roman twilight, when Ostrogoth battled Visigoth; comparable to the chaos of the deluge, where oyster battled fish; comparable to the disorder of the underworld, where an Aristophanic frog chorus croaks in a murk:
What clashes here of wills gen wonts, oystrygods gaggin fishygods! Bre? kkek Ke? kkek Ke? kkek Ke? kkek! Ko? ax Ko? ax Ko? ax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Qua? ouauh! Where the Baddelaries partisans are still out to math- master Malachus Micgranes and the Verdons catapelting the cami- balistics out of the Whoyteboyce of Hoodie Head. Assiegates and boomeringstroms. Sod's brood, be me fear! Sanglorians, save! Arms appeal with larms, appalling. Killykillkilly: a toll, a toll. What chance cuddleys, what cashels aired and ventilated!
Clearly, the tone of the entire passage is brawling and primitive; early warriors are out to kill each other. This much is indicated by "clashes," "par- tisans," "arms," "catapelting," and "boomeringstroms. " But who are these warriors? They are "wills gen wonts"--the have-not's vs. the have's--in- vaders vs. native inhabitants. There is a hint that the passage is symbolic of the fall of Rome; it also contains references to early Irish religious quarrels.
"Oystrygods gaggin fishygods": Ostrogoths vs. Visigoths; also a refer- ence to the shellfish-eaters, said to have preceded the fish-eaters on the coasts of Ireland. "Gaggin" hints at the Germanic gegen meaning "against"; also conveys the idea that the conquest was rammed down the throats of the conquered.
? "Bre? kkek Ke? kkek Ko? ax Ualu Qua? ouauh," etc. : The guttural sound "bre? kkek ko? ax," borrowed from Aristophanes' comedy The Frogs, suggests a swampy, damp terrain where these early struggles took place. Allegorically, this passage hints at the post-Flood battles of primitive man.
"Ualu" and "Qua? ouauh": Welsh cries of lament.
"Mathmaster": Math is Anglo-Saxon for "mow" or "cut down," and Sanskrit for "annihilate. " It is also Hindustani for "hut" and "monastery. " This word says: "to overpower by cutting down men and annihilating their homes and monasteries. "
"Badellaries; Malachus Micgranes": Apparently Celtic clans and fami- lies involved in early tribal wars.
"Catapelting the camibalistics": "Catapelting" suggests both "catapult" and "pelting. " The first syllable of "camibalistics" is Celtic for "crooked and perverse. " In the entire word double connotations of barbaric flesh-eating practices and ballistics are conveyed. The sentence now runs: "Certain tribes were hammering the perverse cannibalistic instincts out of their rivals by means of catapults and primitive weapons. "
"Whoyteboyce of Hoodie Head": The "White-boys" were a band of religious fanatics who went about hooded much after the fashion of the Ku Klux Klan. "Hoodie Head" is perhaps, too, the Hill of Howth.
"Assiegates and boomeringstroms": The first two syllables of "assie- gates" are identical with those of assie? ger (French), "to besiege. " Again, they suggest "assegai," a spear. The last part of the word being "gates," the sum becomes "attempts by means of spears and darts to lay siege to city or castle gates. " "Boomeringstroms" suggests both "boomerangs" and the booming sounds of cannon. Strom is a Scandinavian word for "whirlpool," which draws men down to death.
"Sod's brood, be me fear": "Sod" is "Old Sod" or Ireland. "Children of Ireland, I fear for you"; also "I fear you. " Sod's brood suggests "God's blood. "
"Sanglorians, save": The first syllable of "sanglorians" is sang, French for "blood"; the first two syllables are "sanglo," which has the same sound as sanglot, French for "sob. " Obviously, the word has overtones of blood and tears. Blood and tears for what? For "glori," which occurs in the very middle of the word. "Save" can be construed as either the Latin salve, meaning "hail," or the English "save," meaning "to protect. " The whole
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Synopsis and Demonstration ? ?
? expression is in the vocative: Joyce is addressing someone. "You who fought in blood and tears for glory's sake, I hail you. " Or to use an alter- native rendition of "save," the expression becomes: "May God protect you who fought in blood and tears for glory. "
Always seek in a Joycean expression an antinomy or contradiction. He delights in saying two opposite things in the same words. Thus, while there was plenty of "blood and tears" in the obscure Irish wars, there was but little "glory. " The first syllable of "sanglorians" suggests sans, French for "without. " So it is quite possible that Joyce ironically says here, "You who fought in blood and tears without glory. "
"Arms apeal with larms": Larm[e]s, French for "tears," repeats the grief theme. La? rm, German for "noise," gives the din of battle.
"Killykillkilly, a toll, a toll": nothing but killing; a humorous half- reference to the two Kilkenny cats which fought till nothing was left but their tails. "Toll" hints at the sad ringing of bells for dead heroes. Also, the terrific cost in lives. The word "atoll" means a coral island. Ireland, of course, is an island. "A toll, a toll" echoes the Irish brogue "a-tall, a-tall. "
"What chance cuddleys": "Cuddleys" suggests "cudgels"; what an op- portunity for cudgeling! The word also has overtones of softness and weak- ness. What chance would a weakling have? Or again, "cuddle" is suggested. What opportunities for chance love-making (in the lawless manner of the Viconian giants).
"What cashels aired and ventilated! " "Cashel": a circular wall enclos- ing a church or group of ecclesiastical buildings; a stone building. Turning to a gazetteer, we find "Cashel, population ? ,? ? ? , Tipperary County, at the base of Rock of Cashel, ? ? ? feet high, on which are ruins of a cathe- dral, a chapel and a tower. " Translated, the expression becomes, "What church walls were broken down, what fresh air was blown through musty religious institutions by these religious wars! "
What bidimetoloves sinduced by what tegotetabsolvers! What true feeling for their's hayair with what strawng voice of false jiccup!
"Bid-me-to-loves" are temptresses; "te^te-a`-te^te absolvers" are father confessors. "Teg" is a lamb or woman. "Goat" (got) is the animal of lech- ery. Things are so topsy-turvy that the preachers of God's word lead the prostitutes into sin.
? "The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau"; Isaac's words before blessing the usurper of the birthright are mingled with an echo of "Hayfoot, Strawfoot, bellyful of beansoup! " Hayfoot and Strawfoot are antagonistic brothers.
O here here how hoth sprowled met the duskt the father of fornica- tionists but, (O my shining stars and body! ) how hath fanespanned most high heaven the skysign of soft advertisement! But waz iz? Iseut? Ere were sewers? * The oaks of ald now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes lay. Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown sec- ular phoenish.
The "father of fornicationists," a primordial man, has met the dust; but the rainbow, sign of the promise of his renewal, now emerges. The prom- ise is here associated with the name and theme of Iseult, who enacts in Finnegans Wake a dual role; first, of tempting the all-father to his fall, and then, of gathering up and handing forward the reanimated remains. As mother, she will receive his substance and renew it in her children. As charming virgin, she is the rainbow to beckon him forward again, in the coy, teasing game of expectation and despair.
With the image of Iseult and the theme of the rainbow hope, the motif of the Cycle comes before us. The oaks of the past have fallen into peat, yet where ashes lay there now spring living elms. And the phallic pun "Phall if you but will, rise you must" gives a Rabelaisian twist to the wheel of life. Nothing will end: apparent Finish will be converted to Phoenix-rebirth, as the Fall in the Phoenix Park of Eden entailed the miracle of Redemption.
These few lines of commentary are an admittedly inadequate gloss on the first four paragraphs for Finnegans Wake. All the literal and allegorical ref- erences compressed into these paragraphs would fill many volumes with historical, theological, and literary data. But even should the reader one day find himself in control of the entire bulk of this material, there would re- main to be conquered the depths of moral and anagogical implication.
? ? * In the list of errata that James Joyce prepared shortly before his death, he introduced these three question marks.
? ? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake
? Here no commentary could do more than furnish introductory clues; for it is impossible to exhaust the import of a poetical image or a mythologi- cal symbol. The present interpretation can only hint at some of the secrets of Joyce's language and indicate the great outlines of his method: the expe- riencing of the work must be left to the sensibilities of the apt reader.
Suffice it to say, that three great moments have presented themselves during the course of these opening paragraphs: (? ) The Fall, (? ) The Wake, (? ) The Rise. The first is associated with the theme of the thunderclap and "pftjschute"; the second with the quarrels and loves of human history; the third with the sky sign, the elms, the phallus, and the phoenix. The Fall is, in a profound sense, prehistoric, and the Rise will take place at the end of time. Meanwhile, the living and quarreling of the Wake is a kind of fer- mentation or superfetation of maggot sons and daughters out of the body of the gigantic sleeper, "doublin their mumper" all the time. And no mat- ter where we turn, if we regard carefully any phenomenon or complication of the world picture, we shall find that the surface configurations disinte- grate to reveal, ever present, the foundation substance of the old World Father. As his initials emerge through the pattern of "Howth Castle and Environs," so through all the loves, all the brother betrayals, and all the ventilatings of cashels, he will go on. By a commodius vicus of recircula- tion, riverrun will bring us always, ever, and only back to Him.
? ? book i
? THE BOOK OF THE PARENTS ?
Q
? ? chapter i Finnegan's Fall
? [The story of Finnegan, freed from the thematic entanglements of the first four paragraphs, now begins to run in a narrative style comparatively easy to follow. Henceforth a thin line-tracing of the basic story of Finnegans Wake will suffice to guide the reader. It is not our purpose to elucidate fully any page or group of images but to weld together the fundamental links of the narrative itself.
Our comments are in brackets and in footnotes; the numbers in parentheses refer to the pages of the Viking Press edition of Finnegans Wake, ? ? ? ? .
[The first twenty-five pages of Joyce's narrative (? -? ? ) deal directly with the subject of the title theme: the fall, the wake, and the portended resur- rection of the prehistoric hod carrier Finnegan. ]
(? ) Primordial Big Master Finnegan, free mason, lived, loved, and la- bored in the broadest way imaginable: piled buildings on the river banks, swilled ale, jigged with his little Annie, and would calculate the altitude of
? ?
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Finnegan's Fall ? ?
? the skyscraper erections, (? ) hierarchitectitiptitoploftical,* rising under his hand.
He was of the first to bear arms and a name: Wassaily Booslaeugh of Riesengeborg. His crest, green, showed in silver a he-goat pursuing two maids, and bore an escutcheon with silver sun-emblem and archers at the ready. Its legend: Hohohoho! Hahahaha! Mr. Finn you're going to be Mr. Finn-again! In the morn you're vine, in the eve you're vinegar. Mr. Funn, you're going to be fined again!
What brought about that Thursday-morning tragedy? Our house still rocks to the rumor of it; there is a shabby chorus of those who would blame him; the evidence is difficult to evaluate. --Therefore, stay us (O Sustainer! ) in our search for truth. --It may have been a misfired brick, or perhaps a collapse of back promises; but as sure as Adam bit the apple of Eve, what with the noise of the (? ) traffic below, hod carrier Finnegan, high above, fell tippling full, his hod shook, he stumbled, he was dead. He is now fit for a mastaba-tomb. ?
[We attend the Wake. Twelve dismal citizens, sighing his praises, lay him out:] "MacCool, MacCool, orra why did ye die? " There is a bottle of whisky at his feet, and a barrowload of Guinness's over his head.
[The scene begins to disintegrate. Outlines of the hills show through the lineaments of the wake. ] Hurrah! It is all one and the same: Finnegan's form is that of the landscape. Let us peep at him, prostrate. From Shopalist to Bailywick he calmly extensolies. By the bay winds he is bewailed. (? ) Annie's flutelike trochees wake him. Grace before glutton; Amen. Grampupus is fallen down but grinny sprids the boord. ? Fish, bread, and ale are placed around the bier. But the moment you would quaff off the drink and sink tooth into the food (the communion drink and food of his
? flower-white body), behold, he is smolten in our midst. The Wake scene, like a fadeout, melts away.
Yet, we may still behold the brontoichthyan* form outlined in the contours of the land: a giant hill recumbent by the stream he loved, HCE beside his ALP. [The Wake scene, having withdrawn into the world interior, is now to be thought of as constituting the substratum of all existence. It is the arche- typal Form of all forms. Through the next seventeen pages (? -? ? ) are to be studied various evidences, geographical and historical, of the fallen Finnegan's all suffusing, all-feeding, slumberous presence. Not only the landscape is to be reviewed (? , ? ? , ? ? , ? ? , ? ? ) but typical epochs of human history (? -? ? ), medieval history (? ? -? ? ), prehistory (? ? -? ? ); also, a few frag- ments of folklore (? ? -? ? ); a comical vaudeville song; and the dump heap in our own backyard (? ? ). As the eye regards each, it slightly disintegrates to re-
veal an unmistakable trait or two of the grotesque Finnegan within.
[First, the landscape:]
The head of him can be seen at Ben Howth. His clay feet swarded in
grass, stick up, not far from Chapelizod, where he last fell on them--by the Magazine Wall, where the Maggies seen all, while the three spying soldiers lay in ambush. ? From here a view (? ) may be had of the little Wellington Museum in Phoenix Park, a charming waterloose country round about, and two pretty white villages, like two saucy Maggies themselves, amidst the foliages. Penetrators are permitted into the museum. For her passkey supply to the janitrix, the mistress Kathe. Tip. ?
? ? * Bronte, "thunder"; ichthys, "fish": thunder-fish. The reader will think of the Leviathan, whose flesh, together with the flesh of Behemoth, is the food of those in Paradise; also, the fish symbol of Christ, whose flesh is the food of the faithful.
? Finnegan's fall was on the identical spot where HCE is to become involved in his misad- venture with two girls and three soldiers. On this spot there at present stands a museum dedicated to the memory of Wellington. Wellington is an incarnation of HCE. The three spying soldiers will bear various names in various parts of the text. The names will carry suggestions of one or another of England's imperialistic wars. Wellington, it will be re- membered, served in India before his campaigns against Napoleon; hence a sepoy, Shimar Shin, appears as one of the three soldiers at the conclusion of the present episode. [[Note that there is no actual Wellington Museum in Phoenix Park. --ELE]]
? The repetition through Finnegans Wake of the word "tip" finally turns out to be a dream transformation of the sound of a branch knocking against HCE's window as he sleeps be- side his wife in the upper room. This branch is the finger of Mother Nature, in her des- iccated aspect, bidding for attention.
? ? * This is a good word on which to practice. Note the way in which it combines the words "hierarchy," "architect," "tipsy," and "toplofty," climbing up and up, beyond every ex- pectation, like a skyscraper. In Joyce's text, the phrase "with larrons o'toolers clittering up and tombles a'buckets clottering down" refers to Lawrence O'Toole and Thomas a` Becket, bishops respectively of Dublin and Canterbury in the time of Henry II. The for- mer advanced his personal career, the latter was martyred.
? An Egyptian mummy tomb of stone.
? The key theme of the Wake: in a communion feast the substance of All-Father is served
by All-Mother to the universal company.
? ? A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake ? ? Finnegan's Fall ? ?
? Belchum; poor the pay! This is Wellington, brandishing his telescope on the runaway jinnies. A (? ? ) triad of soldiers is observing him; one of them is a Hindu sepoy, Shimar Shin. Suddenly Wellington picks up the half of a hat from the filth and hangs it on the crupper of his big white horse. (The last joke of the Willingdone. ) The crupper wags with the hat to insult the sepoy, who, mad as a hatter, jumps up with a cry. Whereupon, Wellington, a born gentle- man, tenders a matchbox to the cursing Shimar Shin. The do-for-him sepoy blows the whole of the half of the hat off the top of the tail on the back of Wellington's big wide harse. (Bullseye! Game! ) This way out of the museum.
Phew, but that was warm.
[Dense with figures half lost in the dust of war, the turbulent Museum scene amplifies the private sin of HCE into an image of the hero through- out the course of history. Toward the middle of Finnegans Wake (? ? ? -? ? ) an even denser, dustier episode, namely, that of the Russian General at Sevastopol, will culminate the development of this blood-and-tears theme. In the wild heat of battle, life discloses its most shameful secret--i. e. , HCE's sin in the Park.
[We turn from the museum to the countryside, now a silent field after battle. Round about are twelve pilfering little birds, metamorphosed dupli- cates of the citizens at the Wake. The janitrix herself, in a bird transforma- tion, moves through the twilight, gathering relics (as widowed Isis gathered the scattered fragments of her dismembered husband, Osiris). ]
(? ? ) We know where she lives; it's a candle-little house of a month and one windies. * The vagrant wind's awaltz around the piltdowns and on every blasted knollyrock there's a gnarlybird ygathering. Old Lumproar is lying under his seven red shields;? our pigeon pair has flown; (? ? ) the three
? [This Museum should be regarded as a kind of reliquary containing var- ious mementoes symbolizing not only the eternal brother-conflict, but also the military and diplomatic encounters, exchanges and betrayals of recorded history. ] An old woman conducts a party through the museum, pointing out relics from the battle career of her hero Wellington, the Iron Duke. There are exhibits under glass and pictures on the walls. A flag, a bullet, a military hat; Duke Wellington on his big white horse; three soldiers crouch- ing in a ditch; a pair of Napoleon's jinnies,* making believe to read a book of strategy; and a sex-caliber telescope through which the Duke trains on the flanks of the jinnies. The reader begins to recognize through all the shooting-gallery noises and the smoke-confused scenes of battle the om- nipresent story of a great man, two temptresses, and three soldiers. ? Be- tween the Duke and the jinnies dispatches go back and forth. This (? ) is me, Belchum, bearer of the dispatches. ? First, a dispatch from the jinnies to annoy the Willingdone: "Behold thy tiny frau, hugacting. Signed: Nap. " This is me, Belchum, carrying the dispatch. And this is Wellington's an- swer, displayed on the regions rare of me, Belchum: "Figtreeyou! Damn fairy Ann--c? a ne fait rien. Vo^tre: Willingdone. " (That was the first joke of Wellington. Tit for tat. ) This is me, Belchum, in his twelve-league boots, footing it back to the jinnies. [Napoleon and Wellington are exchanging in- sults, Napoleon being represented through the jinnies. ]
Here now are some more exhibits: Balls, cannon fodder, other views of the jinnies, the soldiers, and the Willingdone. The Wellington cry is "Brum! Brum! Cumbrum! " The jinnies' cry is "Donnerwetter! Gott strafe England! " To the tune of "It's a long way to Tipperary," the jinnies run away. This is me,
? ? * This word refers both to a couple of young mares on the battlefield, and to a pair of Napoleonic filles du re? giment.
