Penguin Classics the Restored Finnegans Wake

by James Joyce

  GLUGG (Mr Seumas MacQuillad: hear the riddles between the robot in his dress circular and the gagster in the rogues’ gallery), the bold bad bleak boy of the storybooks who, when the tabs go up, as we discover, because he knew to mutch, has been divorced into the disgrace court by

  THE FLORAS (Girl Scouts from St Bride’s Finishing Establishment: demand acidulateds), a month’s bunch of pretty maidens who, while they pick on her, their pet peeve, form with valkyrienne licence the guard for

  IZOD (Miss Butys Pott: ask the attendantess for a leaflet), a bewitching blonde who dimples delightfully and is approached in loveliness only by her grateful sister reflection in a mirror, the cloud of the opal, who, having jilted Glugg, is being fatally fascinated by

  CHUFF (Mr Sean O’Mailey: see the chalk and sanguine pictograph on the safety drop), the fine frank fairhaired fellow of the fairytales who wrestles for tophole with the bold bad bleak boy, Glugg, geminally about caps or puds or tog bags or bog gats or chuting rudskin gunerally or something, until they adumbrace a pattern of somebody else or other, after which they are both carried off the set and brought home to be soundly soaped, sponged and scrubbed again by

  ANN (Miss Corrie Corriendo, Grischun scoula: bring the babes, Pieder, Poder and Turtey, she mistributes mandamus monies after perdunamento, hendrud aloven entrees, pulcinellis must not miss our national rooster’s rag), their poor little old mother-in-lieu who is woman of the house, playing opposite to

  HUMP (Mr Makeall Gonne: read the sayings from Laxdaelasaga in the programme about King Ericus of Schweden and the spirit’s whispers in his magical helmet), cap-a-pipe with watch, topper, coat, crest and supporters, the cause of all our grievances, the whirl, the flash and the trouble, who, having partially recovered from a recent impeachment, due to egg everlasting, but throughandthoroughly proconverted, is studding sail once more, jibsheets and royals, in the semblance of the substance for the membrance of the umbrance with the remnance of the emblence reveiling a quemdam supercargo, of The Rockery, Poopinheavin, and engaged in entertaining in his pilgrimst customhouse at Caherlehome-upon-Eskur those statutory persons

  THE CUSTOMERS (Components of the Afterhours Courses at St Patricius’ Academy for Grownup Gentlemen: consult the annuary, coldporters sibsuction), a bundle of a dozen of representative locomotive civics inn quest of outings, each of whom is a jactitator, who are still more sloppily served after every cup final by

  SAUNDERSON (Mr Knut Oelsvinger: Tiffsdays off, Wouldntstays in bad, imitation of flatfish, torchbearing supperaape, dud halfsovereign, no chee daily, rolly pollsies, Glen of the Downs, the Gugnir, his geyswerks, his earsequack, his lokistroki, o.s.v.), a scherinsheiner and spoilcurate, unconcerned in the mystery but under the inflounce of the milldieuw and butt of

  KATE (Miss Rachel Lea Varian: she tells forkings for baschfellors, under purdah of card palmer teaput tosspot Madam d’Elta, during the pawses), kook-and-dishdrudge, whitch believes wanthingthats, whouse be the churchyard or whorts up the aasgaard, the show must go on.

  Time: the pressant.

  With futurist onehorse balletbattle pictures and the Pageant of Past History worked up with animal variations amid everglading mangrovemazes and propounded for cyclological beorbtracktors by Messrs Thud and Blunder. Shadows by the film folk. Masses by the good people. Promptings by Elanio Vitale. Longshots, upcloses, outblacks and stagetolets by Hexenschuss, Coachmaher, Incubone and Rocknarrag. Creations tastefully designed by Madame Berthe Delamode. Dances arranged by Harley Quinn and Coollimbeina. Jests, jokes, jigs and jorums for the Wake lent from the properties of the late cemented Mr T. M. Finnegan R.I.C. Lipmasks and hairwigs by Ouida Nooikke. Limes and Floods by Crooker and Toll. Kopay pibe by Kappa Pedersen. Hoed Pine hat with twentyfour ventholes by Morgen. Bosse and stringbag from Heteroclitheroe’s Endsodds and All Ladies’ Presents. Tree taken for grafted. Rock rent. Phenecian blends and Sourdanian doofpoosts by Shauvesourishe and Wohntbedarft. The oakmulberryeke with silktrick twomesh from Shop-Sowy, Seedsmanchap. Grabstone beg from General Orders Mailed. The crack (That’s Cork!) by a smoker from the gods. The interjection (Buckley!) by the firemen in the pit. Accidental music providentially arranged by L’Archet and Laccorde. Melodiotiosities in purefusion by the score. To start with in the beginning, we need hirtly bemark, a community prayer, everyone for himself, and to conclude with as an exodus, we think it well to add, a chorale in canon, good for us all for us all us all all. Songs betune the acts by the ambiamphions of Annapolis, Joan MockComic, male soprano, and Jean Souslevin, bass noble, respectively: O, Mester Sogermon, ef thes es whot ye deux, then I’m not surpleased ye want that bottle of Sauvequipeu and Oh Off Nunch Der Rasche Ver Lasse Mitsch Nitscht. Till the summit scenes of climbacks castastrophear The Bearded Mountain (Polymop Baretherootsch) and The River Romps to Nursery (Maidykins in Undiform). The whole thugogmagog, including the portions understood to be oddmitted as the results of the respective titulars neglecting to produce themselves, to be wound up for an afterenactment by a Magnificent Transformation Scene showing the Radium Wedding of Neid and Moorning and the Dawn of PEACE, Pure, Perfect and Perpetual, Waking the Weary of the World.

  An argument follows.

  Chuffy was a nangel then and his soard fleshed light like likening. Fools top! Singty sangty meekly loose, defendy nous from prowlabouts. Make a shine on the curst. Emem.

  But the duvlin sulph was in Glugger, that lost-to-lurning. Punct. He was sbuffing and sputing, tussing like anisine, whipping his eysoult and gnatsching his teats over the brividies from existers and the outher liubbocks of life. He halth kelchychosen a clayblade and makes prayses to his three of clubs. To part from thees, my corsets, is into overlusting fear. Acts of feet, hoof and jarrety: athletes longfoot. Djowl, uphere!

  Aminxt that nombre of evelings, but how pierceful in their sojestiveness, were those first girly stirs, with zitterings of flight releashed and twinglings of twitchbells in rondel after, with waverings that made shimmershake rather nightily all the duskscended airs and shylit beaconings from shehind hims back. Sammy, call on! Mirrylamb, she was shuffering all the diseasinesses of the unherd of. Mary Louisan Shousapinas! If Arck could no more salve his agnols from the wiles of willy woolly woolf! If all the airish signics of her dipandump helpabit from an Father Hogam till the Mutther Masons could not that Glugg to catch her by the calour of her brideness! Not Rose, Sevilla nor Citronelle; not Esmeralde, Pervinca nor Indra; not Viola even nor all of them four themes over. But, the mouthage stick in the melmelode jawr, I am (twintomine) all thees thing. Up tighty in the front, down again on the loose, drim and drumming on her back and a pop from her whistle. What is that, O holytroopers? Isot givin yoe?

  Up he stulpled, glee you gees, with search a mug did die near sea, beamy owen and calmy hugh, and if you what you my call for me I will wishyoumaycull for you.

  And they are met, face a facing. They are set, force to force. And no such Copenhague-Marengo was less so fated for a fall since in Glenasmole of Smiling Thrushes Patch Whyte passed O’Sheen ascowl.

  Arrest thee, scaldbrother! came the evangelion, sabre accusant, from all Saint Joan’s Wood to kill or maim him, and be dumm but ill s’arrested. Et would proffer to his delected one the his trifle from the grass.

  A space. Who are you? The cat’s mother. A time. What do you lack? The look of a queen.

  But what is that which one is going to prehend? seeks, buzzling is brains, the feinder.

  The howtosayto itiswhatis hemustwhomust worden schall. A darktongues kunning. O theoperil! Ethiop lore, the poor lie!

  He askit of the hoothed fireshield but it was untergone into the matthued heaven. He soughed it from the luft but that bore ne mark ne message. He luked upon the bloomingrund where ongly his corns were growning. At last he listed back to beckline how she pranked alone so johntily. The skand for schooling.

  With nought a wired from the wordless either.

  Item. He was hardset then. He wented to go (somewhere) while he was weeting. Utem. He wished to grieve on the g
ood persons, that is the four gentlemen. Otem. And it was not a long time till he was feeling true forim he was godda purssia and it was short after that he was fooling mehaunt to mehynte he was an injine ruber. Etem. He was at his thinker’s aunts to give (the four gentlemen) the presence (of a curpse). And this is what he would be willing. He fould the fourd; they found the hurtled stones; they fell ill with the gravy duck: and he sod town with the roast of the meast. Atem.

  Towhere byhangs ourtales.

  Ah ho! This poor Glugg! It was so said of him about of his old fontmouther. Truly deplurabel! A dire, O dire! And all the freightfulness whom he inhebited after his colline born janitor. Sometime towerable! With that hehry antlets on him and the baublelight bulching out of his sockets whiling away she sprankled his allover with her noces of interregnation: How do you do that lack a lock and pass the poker, please? And bids him tend her, lute and airly. Sing, sweetharp, thing to me anone! So that Glugg, the poor one, in that limbopool which was his subnesciousness he could scares of all knotknow whither his morrder had bourst a blabber or if the vogalstones that hit his tynpan was that mearly his skoll missed her. Misty’s trompe or midst his flooting? Ah, ho! Cicely, awe!

  The youngly delightsome frilles-in-pleyurs are now showen drawen, if bud one, or, if in florileague, drawens up consociately at the hinder sight of their commoner guardian. Her boy fiend, or theirs, if they are so plurielled, cometh up as a trapadour, sinking how he must fend for himself by gaze-work what their colours wear as they are all showen drawens up. Tireton, cacheton, tireton, bas! Doth that not satisfy youth, sir? O quanty purty bellas here, Madama Lifay! And what are you going to charm them to, Madama, do say? Cinderynelly angled her slipper; it was cho chiny yet braught her a groom. At next lineup he will angskt of them from their commoner guardian (who is really the rapier of the two, though thother brother can hold his own, espacially for he bandishes it with his hand the hold time, mamain) a simply gratious: Mi, O la! and reloose that thong off his art: Hast thou feel liked carbunckley ones? Apun which his poohoor pricoxity theirs is a little tittertit of hilarity (Lad-o’-me-soul! Lad-o’-me-soul, see!) and the wordchary is atvoiced ringsoundingly by their toots enssembled, though not meaning to be clever but just with a shrug of their hips, to go to troy and harff a freak at himself by all that’s tory to the ulstramarines. Otherwised, holding their noises, they insinuate quiet private, Ni, he make peace in his preaches and play with esteem.

  Warewolff! Olff! Toboo!

  So olff for his topheetuck the ruck made raid, aslick aslegs would run, and he ankered on his hunkers with the belly belly prest. Asking: What’s my muffinstuffinaches for thease times? To weat: Breath and bother and whatarcurss. Then breath more bother and more whatarcurss. Then no breath no bother but worrawarrawurms. And Shim shallave shome.

  As Rigagnolina to Mountagnone, what she meaned he could not can. All she meaned was golten sylvup, all she meaned was some knight’s ploung jamn. It’s driving her dafft like he’s so dumnb. If he’d lonely talk instead of only gawk as thought Yateman hat stuck hits stick athrought his spoke and if he woold nut wolly so! Hee. Speak, sweety bird! Mitzymitzy! Though I did ate tough turf I’m not the bogdoxy.

  — Have you monbreamstone?

  — No.

  — Or Hellfeuersteyn?

  — No.

  — Or Van Diemen’s coral pearl?

  — No.

  He has lost.

  Off to clutch, Glugg! Forewheel! Shape your reres, Glugg! Forweal! Ring we round, Chuff! Fairwell! Chuffchuff’s inner seven: all’s rice with their whorl!

  Yet, ah tears, who can her mater be? She’d promised he’d eye her. To try up her pretti. But now it’s so longed and so fared and so forth. Jerry for jauntings. Alabye! Fled.

  The flossies all and mossies all, they drooped upon her draped brimfall. The bowknots, the showlots, they wilted into woeblots. The pearlagraph, the pearlagraph, knew whitchly whether to weep or laugh. For always down in Carolinas lovely Dinahs vaunt their view.

  Poor Isa sids a glooming, so gleaming in the gloaming; the tincelles a touch tarnished wind no lovelinoise awound her swan’s. Hey, lass! Woefear gleams she so glooming, this pooripathete Isolde? Her beauman’s gone of a cool. Be good enough to symperise. If he’s at anywhere she’s therefor to join him. If it’s to nowhere she’s going to too. But if he’ll go to be a son to France’s she’ll stay daughter of Clare. Bring tansy, throw myrtle, strew rue, rue, rue. She is fading out like Journee’s clothes so you can’t see her now. Still we know how Day the Dyer works, in dims and deeps and dusks and darks. And among the shades that Eve’s now wearing she’ll meet anew fiancy, tryst and trow. Mammy was, Mimmy is, Minuscoline’s to be. In the Dee dips a dame and the dame desires a demselle but the demselle dresses dolly and the dolly does a dulcydamble. The same renew. For though she’s unmerried she’ll after truss up and help that hussyband how to hop. Hip it and trip it and chirrub and sing. Lord Chuffy’s sky sheraph and Glugg’s got to swing.

  So and so, toe by toe, to and fro they go round, for they are the ingelles, scattering nods as girls who may, for they are an angel’s garland.

  Catchmire stockings, libertyed garters, shoddyshoes quicked out with selver. Pennyfeir caps on pinnyfore frocks and a ring on her fomefing finger. And they leap so looply, looply, as they link to light. And they look so loovely, loovelit, noosed in a nuptious night. Withasly glints in. Andecoy glants out. They ramp it a little, a lessle, a lissle. Then rompride round in rout.

  Say them all but tell them apart, cadenzando coloratura! R is Rubretta and A is Arancia, Y is for Yilla and N for greeneriN. B is Boyblue with odalisque O while W waters the fleurettes of novembrance. Though they’re all but merely a schoolgirl yet these way went they. I’ th’ view o’ th’ avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. Miss Oodles of Anems before the Luvium doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. And Miss Endles of Eons efter Dies of Eirae doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. The many wiles of Winsure.

  The grocer’s bawd she slips her hand in the haricot bag, the lady in waiting sips her sup from the paraffin can, Mrs Wildhare Quickdoctor helts her skelts up the casuaway the flasht instinct she herds if a tinkle of tunder, the widow Megrievy she knits cats’ cradles, this bountiful actress leashes a harrier under her tongue, and here’s the girl who she’s kneeled in coldfeshion and she’s toold her priest (spt!) she’s pot on a chap (chp!), and this lass not least, this rickissime woman, who she writes foot fortunes money times over in the nursery dust with her capital thumb. Buzz. All runaway sheep bound back bopeep, trailing their teens behind them. And these ways wend they. And those ways wend they. Winnie, Olive and Beatrice, Nelly and Ida, Amy and Rue. Here they come back, all the gay pack, for they are the florals, from foncey and pansey to papavere’s blush, forsake-me-nought, while there’s leaf there’s hope, with primtim’s ruse and marrymay’s blossom, all the flowers of the ancelles’ garden.

  But vicereversing thereout from those palms of perfection to anger arbour, treerack monatan, scourcely out of scout of ocean, virid with woad, what tornaments of complementary rages rocked the divlun from his punchpoll to his tummy’s shentre as he displaid all the oathword science of his visible disgrace! He was feeling so funny and floored for the cue, all over which girls as he don’t know whose hue. If goosseys gazious would but fain smile him a smile he would be fondling a praise he ate some nice bit of fluff. But no geste reveals the unconnouth. And they’re all odds against him, the beasties. Scratch. Start.

  He dove his head into Wat Murrey, gave Stewart Ryall a puck on the plexus, wrestled a hurry-come-union with the Gillie Beg, wiped all his sinses, martial and menial, out of Shrove Sundy MacFearsome, excremuncted as freely as any frothblower into MacIsaac, had a belting bout, chaste to chaste, with McAdoo abutt nothing and, childhood’s age being aye the shameleast, tel a Tartaran tastarin toothsome tarrascone tourtoun, vestimentivorous chlamydophagian, imbretellated himself for any time untellable with what hung over to the Machonochie Middle from the Mac-Siccaries of
the Breeks. Home!

  Allwhile, moush misquies from mungy mousie, preying in his mind, son of Everallin, within himself he swure. Macnoon maggoty mag! Cross of a coppersmith bishop! He would split. He do big squeal like holy Trichepatte. Seek hellswhere from yank islanders the petriote’s absolation. Mocknitza! Genik! He take skiff come first dagrene day overwide tumbler, rough and dark, till when bow of the shower show of the bower, with three shirts and a wind, pagoda permettant, crookolevante, the bruce, the coriolano and the ignacio. From prudals to the secular but from the cumman to the nowter. Byebye, Brassolis, I’m breaving! Our war, Dully Gray! A conans-dream of lodascircles, he here schlucefinis. Gelchasser no more! Mischnary for the minestrary to all the sems of Aram, Shimach, son of Ere. Mum’s for’s maxim, ban’s for’s book and Dodgesome Dora for hedgehung sheol-mastress. And Unkel Silanse coach in diligence. Disconnection of the succeeding. He wholehog himself for carberry banishment care of Pencylmania, Bretish Armerica, to melt Mrs Gloria of the Bunkers’ Trust, recorporated (prunty!), by meteoromancy and linguified heissrohgin, quit to hail a hurry laracor and catch the Paname-Turricum and regain that absendee tarry easty, his città immediata, by an alley and detour, with farecard awailable getrennty years. Right for Rovy the Roder. From the safe side of distance! Libera nostalgia! Beate Laurentie O’Tuli! Euro pra nobis! Every monk his own cashel where every little ligger is his own liogotenente with inclined jambs in full purview to his pronaose and to the deretane at his reredoss. Fuisfinister, fuyerescaper! He would, with the greatest of ease, before of weighting midhook, by dear home trashold on the raging canal, for other-sites of Jorden (heave a hevy, waterboy!), make one of hissens with a knocknacow and a chow collegions and fire off, gheol ghiornal, foull subustioned mullmud, his farced epistol to the hibruws. From Cernilius, slomtime prepositus of Toumaria, to the clutch in Anteach. Salvo! Ledigs and jointuremen! No more turdenskaulds! Free leaves for ebribadies! All tinsammon in the yord! With harm and aches till farther alters! Wild primates not stop him frem at rearing a writing in handy antics. Nom de plume! Gout strap Fenlanns! And send Jarge for Mary Inklenders! And daunt you logh if his vineshanky’s schwemmy! For he is the general, make no mistake in he. He is General Jinglesome.