"And whew whewwhew whew."

(573.33-576.9)  I went slightly over in excerpt length today, mostly on account of the fact that there's a sentence about 23 lines (or two-thirds of a page) long at the end of this passage.  This also allows me to end today's reading at the end of a paragraph and has the added bonus of shortening tomorrow's reading.

But what a doozy today's reading is.  Now I can understand a little better why Campbell and Robinson call this five-page section the most complicated in the book.  (I'll add that it's among the most interesting, challenging, and entertaining sections as well.)  The passage for today is steeped in legalese, and the references are more obscure than in yesterday's reading.  The hegemony/submission question of yesterday seems to have been a cliffhanger that will go unanswered (at least for now), and what we have today is a legal dispute regarding "the goods of Cape and Chattertone, deceased."  The case, Mark tells us, "is perhaps the commonest of all cases arising out of umbrella history in connection with the wood industries in our courts of litigation."  My hunch is that on one level it's about how ALP tries to pay for the costs of HCE's funeral (here, the "wood industries" refers to the coffin).

We start with a maxim that seems to make enough sense:  "so long as there is a joint deposit account in the two names a mutual obligation is posited."  So, it would seem that if there wasn't enough money in the joint account held by HCE and ALP, ALP would be obligated to make up the shortage and any associated fees occasioned by her tendering a bad check.  The next two pages might make your head spin as you question that simple explanation.

Campbell and Robinson suggest that this passage moves from a discussion of the couple's finances and "quickly opens out into a review of the history of Christianity in the British Isles, particularly since the days of Henry VIII (Hal Kilbride) and the Counter Reformation."  I won't dwell on the religious aspect too much right now, but in this reading, ALP -- here "Ann Doyle" -- is a junior partner of the Roman Catholic church, which owes money to a rival firm, the Anglican church.  It's clear that tithes were due to "the heathen church emergency fund" (note those HCE initials), and that Tangos, Limited (the entity Campbell and Robinson identify as the Catholic church) asserts as its defense that it made full payment of the amount due.   The fund counterclaimed that payment was invalid because it was signed by the senior partner of Tangos, who is now missing and presumed dead (he's "entered into an ancient moratorium").  The bank declined to cash the check, which the fund trustee negotiated to a third party and is now in the hands of Pango, a "rival concern" of Tangos (and the entity Campbell and Robinson identify as the Anglican church).

At trial, the jury couldn't reach a verdict, and the judge "went outside his jurisfiction altogether" and essentially ordered that Pango ("the neutral firm") is liable for the debt, and so it's natural that Pango wants Tangos to pay up.  As I noted before, the senior partner who signed the check has gone missing and was therefore unable to testify.  Instead, the junior partner, Ann Doyle (who was originally a member of the jury . . . and originally presumed to be a man) took the stand.  She proposed to settle the dispute by merging (both corporately and physically) with Pango.  (If we follow my funeral expenses theory, this would be ALP trying to pay for the funeral by marrying the man to whom she's in debt.)

The settlement arrangement was overruled by an appellate judge, who reversed the decision of the trial judge and jury of "judaces" (presumably approving the settlement) and held that, since ALP was actually a slave and had no legal rights, and since the senior partner is presumed dead and "no property at law can exist in a corpse," there could be no settlement agreement between ALP and Pango ("Pepigi's pact was pure piffle").  The conclusion?  "Wharrem would whistle for the rhino."  (Whatever that means.  McHugh identifies "rhino" as slang for "money," so perhaps the right to collect on the debt will go up for auction?)

In their Skeleton Key, Campbell and Robinson offer a summary of this passage's meaning:  "Not only romantic love but also Christian faith is snarled, knotted, and exhausted.  All the wires have been so crossed that there is no clean flow any more, either of natural or supernatural energy."  That works for me.  I'll also offer this:  Yesterday's reading dealt with the insecurities dwelling at the darkest depths of HCE's subconscious (i.e., How can I function in society given my constant and all-consuming lust and love?), and today's reading deals with the what HCE presumes are the insecurities dwelling at the darkest depths of ALP's subconscious (i.e., Who will replace my husband with when he's gone?).