Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Notes from the April 2013 Meeting

[thanks Chris!]


Book 1, Chapter 6, pp.  139-141
“2. Does your mutter know your mike?” (139: 15-28)
At first glance, we noticed that this second question transitions away from the father figure, and, instead, focuses on some family dynamics—particularly ALP [mutter/mother] and her son, Shaun [Mike/Mick]. We believe that Shaun is answering a question asked by Shem, his brother. Shem, here, asks his brother, “Does your mutter [mother] know your mike?” In one regard, Shem seems to ask his brother if his mother knows who you are—does she know you are Mike?
But mike (mickey) also serves as an Irish slang for the penis here. (In some regard, every mother knows her son’s penis.) But the way Shem asks the question appears taunting, as though to insinuate Shaun having some sort of an Oedipal desire—wanting to usurp the mother’s love from the father figure.  However, we were concerned with the use of filial as a possessive noun rather than an adjective. If this is Shaun answering Shem’s question, is Shaun turning his eye to his sister’s bosom, or his mother’s bosom? Unsure of what to make of this, we continued.  
Overall, Shaun begins by turning his eyes “meoptics” from matters of public life “suchurban prospects”—city issues—to issues involving the family, but the talk seems to revolve around sexual intercourse—whether it is Shaun fantasizing about his mother, or imagining HCE and ALP’s sexual intercourse. The initial description Shaun, who we thought of as the “I” of the paragraph, depicts is that of a male authority figure “that pontificator” and “circumvallator”: that pontificator (a bishop/Pope/penis) surrounds and “dams” a moat, and, by crossing, “slipt” (slipped or slept) into her fortress. 
The penetration awakens the woman: “Ann alive,”  the lips of her begin to whisper [whether the lisp here is HCE, or her “lips” whispering, and the “bergs of Iceland melt in waves of fire” with “auburnt streams” [streams of fire, Hell/Hades?] , while in a “spooning” position [“spoon-me-spondees”] and “dirckle-me-ondnees” [tickle my undies], and the icebergs melt and gush like a “Rageous Ossean,” [raging ocean]. 
But where we continue to struggle is whether this is ALP and HCE having sex, or an intruder (possibly Shaun in Oedipal desire) conquering ALP, and replacing HCE as the object of the mother’s love. First, we take into account that the initial excitement that melts the icebergs stems from “grig mountains whisper” which recalls Edward Grieg’s “In the Hall of the Mountain King,” a composition for Henrik Ibsen’s Peer Gynt play [listen to “In the Hall of the Mountain King” here]. The song is recognizable for its mysteriousness and whispery opening that methodically repeats, growing louder with each refrain, building up to a full eruption in the song’s climax—its own gushing ocean or orchestral explosion—a sexual orgasm. 
But that “Rageous Ossean” we believe may be “a lyre” (a liar), just as the Ossian myths [mythical son of Finn MacCool] supposedly collected by the Scottish author, James MacPherson, were discovered to be fraudulent creations authored by MacPherson himself. Is Ossean [Shaun], son of Finn MacCool [HCE], trying to pass himself off as the father with the mother? If intercourse happens, here, it is in a mounting or spooning position, [both sexual positions that happen from behind the woman], which could be part of a deception, a circumvallation—harkening back to Shem’s question—Does mom know you are her son / Does mom have intimate knowledge of your micky (Oedipal / incestuous)? 
Regardless, ALP/Issy’s “auburnt streams” [au as gold, golden streams, urine? or her auburn streams of hair] coupled with her “coy cajoleries, and her dabblin drollerises” are, by themselves, enough to “rouse his rudderup” [arouse his penis to erection] and “drench his dreams” [cause wet dreams]. We are offered opposing codes of conduct by which to judge their actions—“hot Hammurabi” [violent, eye for an eye] compared to “cowld Clesiastes” [more passive reflections on how to live life from Ecclesiastes]. But both codes, seemingly, are both seem to agree with that whatever happens here (possible incest) must be “reounded” and “denounced” by having the two involved “renounce their ruings, and denounce their doings, for river [forever + ALP] and iver [ever + Issy], and a night. Amin!”
The use of Iceland, here, also seems to support some sort of incestuous relationship at work in this question. At first, we remarked on the similarities in the spellings of Ireland and Iceland—that is, they are both spelled differently by one letter, both are small islands with small populations and Vikings ancestry (at least partially in Ireland). But Ireland has seen more movement within the population, whereas Iceland seems to have remained an isolated population. As a result, Iceland’s use of old Norse from its Viking/Norwegian predecessors is now incomprehensible to most Norwegians. And furthermore, supportive of our reading of the passage, Iceland has had centuries of problems controlling unintentional inbreeding largely a result of being an isolated population. Despite having records of family trees dating as early as the 9th century, Iceland has a long historical problem with children born through incestuous relations
The third question, however, seems to allow the questioner to draw the answers away from the family. (In a way, we will see that the flow of the first four questions seem to flow well into one another based upon their subject matter—or answer—from 1. Father/Finn MacCool; 2. Family dynamics (Shaun—ALP—HCE); 3. The House; 4. Cities.) 
“3. Which title is the true-to-type motto-in-lieu for that Tick for Teac thatchment painted witt wheth one darkness…” (139:29-140:05)
At first we noticed that the Hammurabi code seems to reverberate into this question with the “Tick for Teac” (tick for tack/tit for tat/eye for an eye) teaching. But what we are looking for is a motto that can stand replace the original (“in lieu”) but also govern a specific house, as “Teac” (te-OKH) means house in Irish. The questioner, Shem, gives a few conditions for this new motto—“Where asnake is under clover [Lucifer undercover as a serpent, or Ireland pre-dating St. Patrick, with snakes under clovers], and birds aprowl are in the rookeries [rooks / castles in chess] and a magda [magna carta, another code of laws] went to monkishouse and a riverpaard was spotted”. But here, the list of conditions now defines through negation. It is as though the questioner knows that there can be several answers to this question, but uses negation to narrowly define precisely what he is seeking in an answer, just as laws add amendments to give more precise answers by saying what the law does not do. 
What we found most striking about the negations are that they are all homes or public places, and several of them have specific connections to Dublin. The negations suggest it is “not German suburbs” (Whorot/Vorort) “not Ousterholm Dreyschluss” (not an Eastern Swedish port city like Stockholm, nor is it the three castles on Dublin’s crest—drei Schloss), not a grocery store, houseboat, not a beehive, not a place where you knock or ring a bell (“Knox-atta-Belle”), not the felix culpa or Phoenix Park (“O’Faynix Coalprince”), not a one square room, not a gambling houses (Ebblawn/Dublin/Doubling Down), not “Le Mieux” (the best) not Antwerp, Belgium, not Musca (Moscow), not several pubs throughout Dublin (nor the Snug’s—private rooms for women, clergy, and lovers, within Irish pubs), it is not good or splendid, and neither was it, is it, or ever shall it be (“Erat Est Erit”)—nor was it Lucifer (“non michi sed luciphro”—not me said Lucifer). 
The answer mocks the motto of the city of Dublin: Obedientia civium urbis felicitas: “Happy is the city where citizens obey”—here, transforms into a motto of the house: “Thine obesity, O civilian, hits the felicity of our orb—“The unhealthily fat person is the happiest of the earth.”  This answer, however, paves the way for the next line of questioning, in which Mamalujo appears to answer. The questioner plays off this idea of “nayther Erat Est Erit” from the previous question by invoking the goddesses to answer questions of all time, alpha to omega, (a dea o dea).
4. What Irish capitol city (a dea o dea!) of two syllables and six letters, with a deltic origin and numinous end, (ah dust of dust!) can boost of having a) the most extensive public park in the world [Phoenix Park], b) the most expensive brewing industry in the world [Guinness], c) the most expansive peopling thoroughfare in the world [O’Connell street is the widest in the world], d) the most phillohippuc theobibbous paupulation in the world [horse loving, god-drinking/consuming, pauper population], and harmonise your abecdeed responses? (140:08-15).
It seems as though the obvious answer is Dublin—having both a Deltic origin [in terms of being the end of the River Liffey, beginning with the letter D, and also having a Deltic Origin—an origin that has changed over time, just as the symbol Δ, mathematically, measures change over time] and a nuinous end [suggesting ending in the letter “n” but also numinous, mystical end]. Yet, each of the four old masters of Mamalujo reply with incorrect answers, responding a) Delfas (Belfast, Ulter); b) Dorhqk (Cork, Munster), c) Nublid (Dublin, Leinster), d) Dalway, (Galway, Connacht). Each response, however, seems to highlight something specific about that town. 
First,  a) Delfas/Belfast highlights the shipbuilding industry but in a way that conflates it with suggests sexual intercourse and marriage—the constant hammering and the “bingbanging again the ribs of your resistance and the tenderbolts of my rivets working to your destraction” both appears as though it is attempting to wear out a resisting lover (possibly also suggesting a strategy in the separation of Ireland, but also sexualized, highlighted by the “orange garland”), which culminates into an orgasm, “ye’ll be shevering wi’ all yer dinful sobs we’ll go riding acope-acurly…down the greaseways of rollicking into the waters of wetted [wedded] life” (140: 16-22)
b) Dorhqk, likewise is incorrect. Highlighted here is the loquaciousness of the people, the “good old chimes,” and the beauty of their “silvry speech,” the sing-songy accent like a “mouth’s flower rose and sinking.” But the courtship with the accent does not seem all that happy. But it seems almost like a trap—as those getting engaged are bound like cattle—“with two loving loofs braceleting the slims of your ankles”—as though binding someone to a wall (140:22-28).
c) Nublin, too is incorrect, because the responder has reversed the lettering of the D & N. But it seems that even the Dublin that is described here would be incorrect, as we noted how it seems to be confusing Dublin, Georgia, along the Oconee river with Dublin, Ireland. While there are references to Dublin, Ireland—“James’s Gate,” it seems as though most of the passage is about leaving Ireland to start anew in America—leaving for Brooklyn (“brooklined”) as soon as the speaker makes money; Georgian Mansion, which suggests both 17th century architecture, as well as a mansion in Georgia; gaining copper from soybeans, grown in Georgia; learning form “all the errears [errors] and erroriboose [ouroboros—the self eating snake] of comparative embottled history [embattled history, bottling history]” and “churning over the newleaved butter [turning over a new leaf—starting fresh in Georgia “from Atlanta to Oconee” another Alpha-Omega], but also Dublin, Ireland dairy—some of the best dairy in the world] (140:28-37).
d) Dalway, likewise, is celebrated for its fishing. “Hooking,” “trotty” [trout], “eel,” “Salmon,” “chub,” “dace,” and “Rodiron” [Iron rod fishing poles]. Also filtered into Galway’s section are  several other towns within Connacht: Mayo, Tuam, Sligo, Galway, as well as a reference to the city’s history with Spain—both as the landing spot of the Spanish Armada after defeat from the English navy, as well as having the Spanish Arch in Galway, a fish market (140-37-141:04).
Indeed, with each responder answering incorrectly, they now harmonize their answers abcd in a way that seems to mimic the approach of Edgar Allen Poe in “The Bells.” Joyce writes, “A bell a bell on Shalldoll Steepbell, ond be’ll go mass plon prismoss speople” which reverberates as a bells clanging across all four answers, there being four bells in the sentence. But each answer is wrong, so it seems each responder is united, together harmonizing failure (141:04-07). 
Is their union one of inequality? Or is making money [“feepence”] more important than equality? The people of Ireland, presented here as the “mass[es]” of “pri[e]stmos[t] [p]eople…” praise gon ness [Guinness] our fayst [first] moan neople [monopoly].” 
We became curious with the use of italics throughout the answer. We talked briefly if these spots seem to be significant, or if they may be spots where harmonizing may take place—after all, how does one harmonize four separate responses in a text? 
Italicized words throughout question 4:
 we’ll, leave, more, your, neople, Shandeepen, feepence, Aequallllllll! 
We note that there are eight italicized words, and eight “L’s” tagged onto the end of the last “Aequallllllll!”
We seem to continue moving outward in our focus. From Father, to Family, to Home, to City/State. Where will we go in question five? We’ll find out soon enough. 

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