James Joyce
I thought that I would open a thread on James Joyce, the author of several books, most notably "Ulysses".
I have actually read "Ulysses", twice in fact, and various books [i]about[/i] it. I first loved the deep "Yes"! of Molly Bloom at the very end. If it had been a "No" I would have long left the book alone.
One of Joyce's books I have never read (apart from small portions) is "Finnegans Wake", written in what has come to be called "Wakese", an amalgamation of languages that Joyce found that he needed, never finding quite the correct word in his native tongue to capture the reality of life as he knew it to be. Quite profound really.
Samuel Beckett said that "Finnegans Wake" wasn't [i]about[/i] anything, but was rather the [i]thing itself[/i]. Maybe, but I can make little of most of it. Maybe I need to translate it into my own Wakese?
But a few lines here and there have captured my mind/heart, quoted here now:-
[i]They lived and laughed and loved and left.
First we feel. Then we fall.
Let us leave theories there and return to here's hear.
The Gracehoper was always jigging ajog, hoppy on akkant of his joyicity.
Will ye, ay or nay?
A dream of favours, a favourable dream. They know how they believe that they believe that they know. Wherefore they wail.
[/i]
I particularly love the "gracehoper" line. And maybe I capture the "thing itself" as gift from Joyce's sharing. No word there already known and wrung dry, to be pounded once more by my "self" and its conditioned behaviour and reactivity, but new words calling for new eyes. Beautiful. Life giving. Grace. I hope(r) !
I have actually read "Ulysses", twice in fact, and various books [i]about[/i] it. I first loved the deep "Yes"! of Molly Bloom at the very end. If it had been a "No" I would have long left the book alone.
One of Joyce's books I have never read (apart from small portions) is "Finnegans Wake", written in what has come to be called "Wakese", an amalgamation of languages that Joyce found that he needed, never finding quite the correct word in his native tongue to capture the reality of life as he knew it to be. Quite profound really.
Samuel Beckett said that "Finnegans Wake" wasn't [i]about[/i] anything, but was rather the [i]thing itself[/i]. Maybe, but I can make little of most of it. Maybe I need to translate it into my own Wakese?
But a few lines here and there have captured my mind/heart, quoted here now:-
[i]They lived and laughed and loved and left.
First we feel. Then we fall.
Let us leave theories there and return to here's hear.
The Gracehoper was always jigging ajog, hoppy on akkant of his joyicity.
Will ye, ay or nay?
A dream of favours, a favourable dream. They know how they believe that they believe that they know. Wherefore they wail.
[/i]
I particularly love the "gracehoper" line. And maybe I capture the "thing itself" as gift from Joyce's sharing. No word there already known and wrung dry, to be pounded once more by my "self" and its conditioned behaviour and reactivity, but new words calling for new eyes. Beautiful. Life giving. Grace. I hope(r) !
