Television kills telephony in brothers' broil. Our eyes demand their turn. Let them be seen!
Pretty awesome, if you ask me, and this is significant coming from Joyce, who was particularly attentive to the interplay of sight and sound because he suffered from poor eyesight throughout his life and experienced some extended periods where he was effectively blind. Once we have media that can project images to us as well as sound, our eyes take over, and anything less immersive is unsatisfying. The mysterious publican acts accordingly by giving a detailed description of the attire worn by "The first Humphrey," aka HCE. This introduction out of the way, he "sketche[s] . . . the touching seene" and describes how this "might a fin fell" (or mighty Finn fell). The scene is "like a landescape from Wildu Picturescu" or "some seem on some dimb Arras." This "dimb Arras" and the language following sounded familiar to me when I first read it, and I understood why when I looked in McHugh's Annotations, which contain a note that refers to the fourth part of Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (which contains a sentence beginning, "Like a scene on some vague arras . . . ."). This is classic Joyce: incorporating and parodying his own inimitable work in a manner that can only be called Joycean.
The mysterious publican proceeds to take his listeners on either a literal or figurative ride through Phoenix Park, the proverbial scene of the crime. He points out "La arboro" (the tree) and "lo petrusu" (the rock), both of which are supposed to be prominent later in the book. He also calls attention to the "the monolith," which our favorite Wake landmark, Wellington Monument.
The publican then tells two very brief stories about HCE's encounters with the Cad. First is a new version of their midnight encounter in the park. Instead of telling the Cad what time it is, becoming frightened, and giving his defense (as he does in the second chapter), this time HCE pulls out his imitation "sharkskin smokewallet," gives the Cad some cash, and apparently says that he's going to smoke a cigar. (Two pages ago, the publican was smoking a pipe. Pipe smoking is a characteristic of the Cad. Maybe the publican isn't HCE, as I had previously suspected, but instead is the Cad. I guess I'll see how things progress . . . .)
The second story builds off the first. The Cad meets "Master" at "Eagle Cock Hostel" (E-C-H) and gives a somewhat perplexing greeting. In one sense, he wishes "his Honour" the blessings of God, Mary, St. Brigid, and St. Patrick, as well as "a starchboxsitting in the pit of his St Tomach's." Maybe that's a stomach full of bread? Regardless, the publican characterizes this as "a strange wish" that would "poleaxe your sonson's grandson utterly" even though it's been used many times before.
The next paragraph serves as a kind of transition. We're told that while we're able to keep track of some of the figures of the past, we often forget others. The narrator names three figures -- "Farseeingetherich," "Poolaulwoman Charachthecruss," and "Ann van Vogt" -- and says that these three are dead ("D.e.e.d!") and possibly in a mystical paradise ("Edned"), turned to dust ("ended") or waiting to rise again ("sleeping soundlessly").
What follows is, at this point in the Wake, one of the most confusing paragraphs to read. In one sense, we're told that, as sure as Halley's Comet will come around, we'll still hear old men, Jewish women, store boys, and dumb girls as they pass outside our doors. McHugh notes that the words Joyce uses for old men/Jewish women/store boys/dumb girls are also the words for a Persian council of holy men and the Bulgarian, Norwegian, and Tsarist Russian parliaments. The rest of the paragraph is a Babel of seemingly trite phrases spoken in a wide variety of languages. Sometimes multiple languages are used in the same sentence. I won't attempt to transcribe these sentences here, but they basically detail people (particularly ladies) arriving somewhere, people interacting, and then people catching cabs and parting politely. I get the sense that in this paragraph, we're seeing the endless cycle of humanity continue on despite the death of the figures in the last paragraph. Like Bob Dylan sang, "Meanwhile life goes on all around you."
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