/lit/ - Literature

>>21422133
>And still nowanights and by nights of yore do all bold floras of the field to their shyfaun lovers say only: Cull me ere I wilt to thee!: and, but a little later: Pluck me whilst I blush!
Now this is kino

>>21422133
>white liberals can't get enough of this shit

>>21422133
Not a fan desu

>finnegans wake
>trannygans sleep

>>21422133
Nabakov was right in hating this shit.

>>21422499
Nayobov was a pedo + raging pseud.

>>21422499
Nabakov was an awful critic, so that's not the best example. He was wrong about half the novels/authors he criticized

>>21422499
>pseudo-aristocrat getting filtered by actual experimental art
yeah what a surprise

>>21422133
anyone who reads the wake without finwake.com is retarded anyway

>>21422133
>What clashes here of wills gen wonts, oystrygods gaggin fishy-gods! Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Quaouauh! Where the Baddelaries partisans are still out to mathmaster Malachus Micgranes and the Verdons cata-pelting the camibalistics out of the Whoyteboyce of Hoodie Head. Assiegates and boomeringstroms. Sod’s brood, be me fear! Sanglorians, save! Arms apeal with larms, appalling. Killykill-killy: a toll, a toll. What chance cuddleys, what cashels aired and ventilated! What bidimetoloves sinduced by what tegotetab-solvers!
Anons, what does this actually mean?

>>21422133
AI generated trash.

>>21422200
Wow I actually understood this.

>>21423451
>Kék
kek

This is what goes through your mind when you smoke Moroccan hashish.

>>21422133
This book is good. Hating it just because you don't understand it is weird. No one is forcing you to read it.

>>21422133
The ballard that predates the novel is a far better story and far more enjoyable.

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
An' to rise in the world he carried a hod
But Tim had a bit of a tipplers way
But the love for the liquor he was born
And to send him on his way each day,
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer
Partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One morning Tim got rather full
His ol' head felt heavy which made him shake
He fell from a ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet,
And laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer
Partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Well his friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs Finnegan called for lunch
Well first she brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and brandy punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry
"Such a lovely clean corpse, did you ever see
Tim Avourneen, why did you die?"
"Will ye hould your gob?" said Paddy McGee

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer
Partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Oh when Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"Biddy" says she "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy fetched her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
Oh civil war did then engage
T'was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer
Partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Well Mick Maloney ducked his head
When a bucket of whiskey flew at him
He ducked and landing on the bed
The whiskey scattered over Tim
Bedad he revives, see how he rises
Tim falling and rising in the bed
Saying "Whittle your whiskey around
Like blazes, with a t'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I was dead?"

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer
Partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?

>>21423451
You just need to keep reading, because a lot of what is said are repeated references, like leitmotifs, which are developed across the course of the novel. But I'll try to break down some of it:
"Ostrogoths gaggin fishygods" for example is "Ostrogoths gegen ["against" in German] Visigoths" with fish puns. "Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Quaouauh!" is the chorus of Aristophanes' frogs, with "ualu" put in, another cry derived from the Irish for lamentation. The next sentences onomatopoeically describe a fight. You have a list of weapons ("migraines" - fire grenades, "verduns" - long narrow swords, "partisans", "catapults", "cannonballs") often involved in their own puns. "Whoyteboyce" sounds like white boys, an Irish agrarian association responsible for several violent uprisings, while "Hoodie Head" sounds like Howth Head, a leitmotif that features prominently, sometimes as HCE's head, for example. This onomatopeia essentially continues with various puns until the final lines which describes how the battle is split against Protestants ("Bid me to live" - words from a Protestant poem by Herrick) and Catholics ("ego te absolvo" from Catholic mass).
But you really don't need too much detail to understand what's going on here. I think the biggest stumbling block to many new readers of the Wake is the idea that there are secret meanings to everything in front of you, that Joyce can't just be saying what he is saying. Sometimes there are genuine riddles in the text, but I don't think it's his primary mode of writing. The general idea in this small section is that he is impressionistically depicting the idea of battles across world history from what you might hear in them.

>>21422420
>white liberals
Liberals disavow Joyce because of his views on blacks you stupid Arab

Was Finnegans Wake just Joyce trolling? Serious question. I mean towards admiring it as a pure piece of art, because he seems to have written it without giving a fuck if anybody understood it or got anything out of it. Unless he wanted it to be so difficult to understand just for the sake of it, as some type of showboating or masturbation. I just don't know what to make of it. I didn't understand it but I still enjoyed it. I'm a midwit btw in case I haven't already made that obvious

>>21424223
>I don't think that the difficulties in reading it are so insurmountable. Certainly any intelligent reader can read and understand it, if he returns to the text again and again. He is setting out on an adventure with words. 'Work in Progress' can satisfy more readers than any other book because it gives them the opportunity to use their own ideas in the reading. Some readers will be interested in the exploration of words, the play of technique, the philological experiment in each poetic unit. Each word has the charm of a living thing and each living thing is plastic.
>'Emotion has dictated the course and detail of my book, and in emotional writing one arrives at the unpredictable which can be of more value, since its sources are deeper, than the products of the intellectual method....In writing one must create an endlessly changing surface, dictated by the mood and curent impulse in contrast to the fixed mood of the classical style. That is 'Work in Progress'. The important thing is not what we write, but how we write, and in my opinion the modern writer must be an adventurer above all, willing to take every risk, and be prepared to founder in his effort if need be. in other words we must write dangerously: everything is inclined to flux and change nowadays and modern literature, to be valid, must express that flux....A book, in my opinion, should not be planned out beforehand, but as one writes it will form itself, subject, as I say, to the constant emotional promptings of one's personality.
>Yes, it doesn't have a title yet. The few fragments which I have published have been enough to convince many critics that I have finally lost my mind, which by the way they have been predicting faithfully for many years. And perhaps it is madness to grind up words in order to extract their substance, or to graft them one onto another, to create crossbreeds and unknown variants, to open up unsuspected possibilities for these words, to marry sounds which were not usually joined together before, although they were meant for one another, to allow water to speak like water, birds to chirp in the words of birds, to liberate all sounds of rustling, breaking, arguing, shouting, cracking, whistling, creaking, gurgling - from their servile, contemptible role and to attach them to the feelers of expressions which grope for definitions of the undefined. I took literally Gautier's dictum, 'The inexpressible does not exist.' With this hash of sounds I am building the great myth of everyday life.

>>21422604
not really, finwake is a pretty useless site (fweet is much better for looking things up), and Joyce never expected anyone to get all the references. what's important is the personal connections that you make yourself. finnegans wake was intended to have multiple equally valid meanings for every line.

>>21422133
Is that Irish or just some made up bs?

>>21422133
I hate the Irish so much it's unreal

>>21422508
nabokov is actually the one molested in his childood by his uncle. Filtered like so many

>>21422596
>it's experimental so you have to like it

>>21425381
This.

Finnegan's Wake is like my dad's humor: overcomplicated for the sake of being unusual. He can literally change every single word in a sentence in some personal way just to avoid getting bored by speaking like a normal person.

>>21425776
That's a trademark npc

>>21422133
Nabakov was right in hating this shit.

>>21422133
Amazing how much more natural sounding if still incomprehensible this is if you read it with an Irish voice. It rather sounds like some Irish person reading poetry to you on the verge of you falling asleep when you can still make out the sounds but can't parse the meaning. Honestly I'm glad most Irish people don't give a shit about Joyce, they don't deserve him.

>>21424156
good post

>>21425381
No it's just good so if you have good taste you'll like it instead of crying about it on a finnish ice fishing quorum

>>21425360
Wasn't that his gay brother?

>>21425267
So did Joyce

>Nabakov was right in hating this shit.

>>21422133
finnegan? beginnegan

there was an old wake named joyce's finnegan

>night by silentsailing night while infantina Isobel (who will be blushing all day to be, when she growed up one Sunday, Saint Holy and Saint Ivory, when she took the veil, the beautiful presentation nun, so barely twenty, in her pure coif, sister Isobel, and next Sunday, Mistlemas, when she looked a peach, the beautiful Samaritan, still as beautiful and still in her teens, nurse Saintette Isabelle, with stiffstarched cuffs but on Holiday, Christmas, Easter mornings when she wore a wreath, the wonderful widow of eighteen springs, Madame Isa Veuve La Belle, so sad but lucksome in her boyblue's long black with orange blossoming weeper's veil) for she was the only girl they loved, as she is the queenly pearl you prize, because of the way the night that first we met she is bound to be, methinks, and not in vain, the darling of my heart, sleeping in her april cot, within her singachamer, with her greengageflavoured candywhistle duetted to the crazyquilt, Isobel, she is so pretty, truth to tell, wildwood's eyes and primarose hair, quietly, all the woods so wild, in mauves of moss and daphnedews, how all so still she lay, neath of the whitethorn, child of tree, like some losthappy leaf, like blowing flower stilled, as fain would she anon, for soon again 'twill be, win me, woo me, wed me, ah weary me! deeply, now evencalm lay sleeping;

>>21429971
Nuvoletta in her lightdress, spunn of sisteen shimmers, was looking down on them, leaning over the bannistars and listening all she childishly could. How she was brightened when Shouldrups in his glaubering hochskied his welkinstuck and how she was overclused when Kneesknobs on his zwivvel was makeacting such a paulse of himshelp! She was alone. All her nubied companions were asleeping with the squirrels. Their mivver, Mrs Moonan, was off in the Fuerst quarter scrubbing the backsteps of Number 28. Fuvver, that Skand, he was up in Norwood’s sokaparlour, eating oceans of Voking’s Blemish. Nuvoletta listened as she reflected herself, though the heavenly one with his constellatria and his emanations stood between, and she tried all she tried to make the Mookse look up at her (but he was fore too adiaptotously farseeing) and to make the Gripes hear how coy she could be (though he was much too schystimatically auricular about his ens to heed her) but it was all mild’s vapour moist. Not even her feignt reflection, Nuvoluccia, could they toke their gnoses off for their minds with intrepifide fate and bungless curiasity, were conclaved with Heliogobbleus and Commodus and Enobarbarus and whatever the coordinal dickens they did as their damprauch of papyrs and buchstubs said. As if that was their spiration! As if theirs could duiparate her queendim! As if she would be third perty to search on search proceedings! She tried all the winsome wonsome ways her four winds had taught her. She tossed her sfumastelliacinous hair like le princesse de la Petite Bretagne and she rounded her mignons arms like Mrs Cornwallis-West and she smiled over herself like the beauty of the image of the pose of the daughter of the queen of the Emperour of Irelande and she sighed after herself as were she born to bride with Tristis Tristior Tristissimus. But, sweet madonine, she might fair as well have carried her daisy’s worth to Florida. For the Mookse, a dogmad Accanite, were not amoosed and the Gripes, a dubliboused Catalick, wis pinefully obliviscent.

I see, she sighed. There are menner.

The siss of the whisp of the sigh of the softzing at the stir of the ver grose O arundo of a long one in midias reeds: and shades began to glidder along the banks, greepsing, greepsing, duusk unto duusk, and it was as glooming as gloaming could be in the waste of all peacable worlds. Metamnisia was allsoonome coloroform brune; citherior spiane an eaulande, innemorous and unnumerose. The Mookse had a sound eyes right but he could not all hear. The Gripes had light ears left yet he could but ill see. He ceased. And he ceased, tung and trit, and it was neversoever so dusk of both of them. But still Moo thought on the deeps of the undths he would profoundth come the morrokse and still Gri feeled of the scripes he would escipe if by grice he had luck enoupes.

>>21429996
Wait till the honeying of the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in your eye. We'll meet again, we'll part once more. The spot I'll seek if the hour you'll find. My chart shines high where the blue milk's upset. Forgivemequick, I'm going! Bubye! And you, pluck your watch, forgetmenot. Your evenlode. So save to jurna's end! My sights are swimming thicker on me by the shadows to this place. I sow home slowly now by own way, moyvalley way. Towy I too, rathmine.

Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia, trinkettoes! And sure he was the quare old buntz too, Dear Dirty Dumpling, foostherfather of fingalls and dotthergills. Gammer and gaffer we're all their gangsters. Hadn't he seven dams to wive him? And every dam had her seven crutches. And every crutch had its seven hues. And each hue had a differing cry. Sudds for me and supper for you and the doctor's bill for Joe John. Befor! Bifur! He married his markets, cheap by foul, I know, like any Etrurian Catholic Heathen, in their pinky limony creamy birnies and their turkiss indienne mauves. But at milkidmass who was the spouse? Then all that was was fair. Tys Elvenland! Teems of times and happy returns. The seim anew. Ordovico or viricordo. Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in person? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daughters of. Whawk?

Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flittering bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome? What Thom Malone? Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffeying waters of. Ho, talk save us! My foos won't moos. I feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All Livia's daughtersons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who were Shem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night!

what a comfy finnegans wake thread. do any anons here know of some good papers on it? im starting an essay comparing it to some of mcelroys work and needs some more critical sources on the wake to dive into

>>21422133
Is this real?

>>21430078
They war loving, they love laughing, they laugh weeping, they weep smelling, they smell smiling, they smile hating, they hate thinking, they think feeling, they feel tempting, they tempt daring, they dare waiting, they wait taking, they take thanking, they thank seeking, as born for lorn in lore of love to live and wive by wile and rile by rule of ruse ’reathed rose and hose hol’d home, yeth cometh elope year, coach and four, Sweet Peck-at-my-Heart picks one man more.

>>21431679
yes. now read the rest of the book

>>21430676
wake scholarship is a mixed bag for how insightful it is...things like joyce's book of the dark, how joyce wrote finnegans wake, campbell's skeleton key, all have some good bits in them imo

checking out joyce's letters would probably be the most insightful since there are a lot of letters where he explains his intent behind a specific passage or chapter

>>21433322
Reading Joyce's letters is what convinced me to not delve too deeply into secondary literature for the Wake. The point of the book isn't to understand everything, but to find your own enjoyment in the language

Bump

>>21435511
Burn in hell bumpfaggot
Contribute something or let a thread die in grace

>>21431737
My great blue bedroom, the air so quiet, scarce a cloud. In peace and silence. I could have stayed up there for always only. It's something fails us. First we feel. Then we fall. And let her rain now if she likes. Gently or strongly as she likes. Anyway let her rain for my time is come. I done me best when I was let. Thinking always if I go all goes. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles and is there one who understands me? One in a thousand of years of the nights? All me life I have been lived among them but now they are becoming lothed to me. And I am lothing their little warm tricks. And lothing their mean cosy turns. And all the greedy gushes out through their small souls. And all the lazy leaks down over their brash bodies. How small it's all! And me letting on to meself always. And lilting on all the time. I thought you were all glittering with the noblest of carriage. You're only a bumpkin. I thought you the great in all things, in guilt and in glory. You're but a puny. Home! My people were not their sort out beyond there so far as I can. For all the bold and bad and bleary they are blamed, the seahags. No! Nor for all our wild dances in all their wild din. I can seen meself among them, allaniuvia pulchrabelled. How she was handsome, the wild Amazia, when she would seize to my other breast! And what is she weird, haughty Niluna, that she will snatch from my ownest hair! For 'tis they are the stormies. Ho hang! Hang ho! And the clash of our cries till we spring to be free. Auravoles, they says, never heed of your name! But I'm loothing them that's here and all I lothe. Loonely in me loneness. For all their faults. I am passing out. O bitter ending! I'll slip away before they're up. They'll never see. Nor know. Nor miss me. And it's old and old it's sad and old it's sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere size of him, the moyles and moyles of it, moananoaning, makes me seasilt saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms. I see them rising! Save me from those therrble prongs! Two more. Onetwo moremens more. So. Avelaval. My leaves have drifted from me. All. But one clings still. I'll bear it on me. To remind me of. Lff! So soft this morning, ours. Yes. Carry me along, taddy, like you done through the toy fair! If I seen him bearing down on me now under whitespread wings like he'd come from Arkangels, I sink I'd die down over his feet, humbly dumbly, only to washup. Yes, tid. There's where. First. We pass through grass behush the bush to. Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thousendsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a long the

>>21422133
Maybe I'm a brainlet, I don't get it. Is it some Irish slang or something? Or did he just make up words as a weird experiment?

>>21422133
I think I'm gonna rent this from my local library

>I put on my shoe. Good night.
Joycecucks: no depth! Garbage!
>Thoustfully donned Haku kutsu rapidelyment, bysoir bonsoir bakana mou shindeiru!
Joycecucks: WOW this is SO deep, the author didn't write in a boring calculated intellectual way but rather wrote from the heart with clever word experimentation of poetic units that allows every reader to gain their own unique interpretation truly this is a masterpiece!

>>21436734
>Anime poster has a bad opinion and says ignorant things that don't even make sense
Many such cases

>>21436761
>unironically no argument
just sad

Also
>don't even make sense
Filtered, it makes sense. It's okay, I'll write a guide website so you can understand my writing one day

>>21424156
I've read that schizophrenic thought jumps easily from idea to idea based on sound similarities between words but you're showing that Joyce had a central idea and danced around it

>>21433322
>>21434477
thanks for the insight anons, ive also found the secondary lit around it varies a lot in quality. i will check out his letters.
if anyone is interested in a few weeks i will link my essay im writing here for feedback discussion

>>21422133
Should've taken his meds

>>21422499
Nabokov was mad he was a good stylist but even so he could not style on Joyce's prose

>>21437311
id definitely be interested since i am a fan of both mcelroy and joyce

>>21433322
>campbell's skeleton key, all have some good bits in them imo
I got this gifted to me, yet to open it and am curious what people here think of it

>>21427726
>it's just good so if you have good taste you'll like it

>>21438347
It's pretty good. It won't give you the answers for everything, but it'll give you a pretty good idea of what's going on. It's a good starting point if you actually want to dive into the novel

>>21422133
I have to admit it is fucking brilliant, but it also is unendurable. Sun-staring, like.

>>21438510
>unendurable
That's why you read it in short bursts. Read a few pages at a time, find something you enjoy about the language, then come back to it another day. It's the way Joyce intended you to read it. Very few people can sit down and read this like a normal novel cover to cover, because it's just so insanely dense

>>21438514
I'll give that a shot. Thanks, fren. Keep reading.

>>21429971
Damn. Never read this book but I love Isobel now too.

>>21424156
Based as fuck poster.

>>21422133
People really don't get that you only get to this level of uniqueness if you just break through all convention.
The reason the majority of everyone here won't ever write anything worth of note, because they start and instead of taking something to and past 11 dial it back, thinking 'I can't do this'. (which is why the anon with his niggernovel should be applauded)
Also it's pretty easy to read, I don't know what everyone's problem is.

>>21439658
Let us not forget that Joyce started out with the entirely approachable Dubliners.

>>21439790
>Entirely approachable Dubliners
I'm starting with this and working through it right now. It's easily the best slice of life I've ever read (or watched for that matter).

Since the days of Roamaloose and Rehmoose the pavanos have been strident through their struts of Chapelldiseut, the vaulsies have meed and youdled through the purly ooze of Ballybough, many a mismy cloudy has tripped taintily along that hercourt strayed reelway and the rigadoons have held ragtimed revels on the platauplain of Grangegorman; and, though since then sterlings and guineas have been replaced by brooks and lions and some progress has been made on stilts and the races have come and gone and Thyme, that chef of seasoners, has made his usual astewte use of endadjustables and whatnot willbe isnor was, those danceadeils and cancanzanies have come stimmering down for our begayment through the bedeafdom of po's taeorns, the obcecity of pa's teapucs, as lithe and limbfree limber as when momie mummed at ma.

>>21429971
Every passage i read of Finnegans Wake I think is good but then I start doubting myself and feeling like a pseud, or worse, an idiot.

>>21439658
You're right that it's not really hard to read. People just get caught up on it being drastically different from everything else they've read and get frustrated while trying to read it like a normal novel. Most of the language is even fairly understandable when you understand how Joyce wrote it and why

>>21427726
>finnish ice fishing quorum

>>21429971
>greengageflavoured
I don't know if there's a term for it but I love Joyce's compound words like this. "Brightwindbridled steeds of Mananaan" from Ulysses comes to mind. Do any other authors make use of it?

I started reading Finnegans Wake after not having read a book in 7 years, with my only source of literary content being this board.
It's very fun, especially reading out loud. I don't understand 95% of the content but it still invokes powerful imagery. I'm excited to reread this book later when I'm a bit more well-equipped.

>>21436734
Joyce never said that though

>>21440985
Fuck off tourist

>>21422133
desu, it's better than roses on my piano,

>>21441026
Dylan Thomas, Faulkner, McCarthy.

>>21440768
A Painful Case and The Dead are my favorite. Just finished the book last night.