Showing posts with label Ulysses.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ulysses.. Show all posts

Saturday, 22 March 2014

Isis


Right, it’s Friday so here’s a cute little piece about my cat.

Isis

“The original meaning of the goddess Isis is more difficult to determine than that of her brother and husband Osiris. Her attributes and epithets were so numerous that in the hieroglyphics she is called ‘the many-named’, ‘the thousand-named’, and in Greek inscriptions, ‘the myriad-named’.
                             James George Frazer, The Golden Bough

I have a cat. Her name is Issy. She is named after the daughter in Finnegans Wake. Except, it’s me, so it can’t be quite that simple. She is actually named after a jaguar in a series of short stories and she is named after the daughter in Finnegans Wake (cf. The Manifesto of ALP).

Except, as with all the characters in Finnegans Wake, Issy represents daughters and young women throughout literature and history. As such, I keep giving her further names and have for the more than two years that Issy has been with me been keeping a list of all her names. So here I present the list as it currently stand, with footnotes:

Issy, Isis, Isobel, Isobella, Isolde1, Clawrene Poohbury2, Monkey3, Little Miss Poos-Alot4, Little Miss Climbs-A-Lot, Missy, Tiger, Stripes5, Mental Kitty6, Skits7, Nails8, Roo9, Kitty McKitty, Rhona-Run-Around10, The Messiest Kitten in Christendom11, Captain Flint12, Monkey Monkton13, Skitty Poo-Litty14, Ma-Hair15, Madline, Wilful Wilma, Squeaks16, Leap-Year-Cloud-Girl17, OO-MA-BEBE18, Maher Beast, Lucy19, Three Bowls; or the Triple Bowled Goddess20, Brat, Kato21, Kat-Man-Don’t22, Iss E. Coyote23, Valerie Vandal, Sneak-A-Cat24, Little Thing, Delilah25, Tab Bratchula26, Tabratta, ‘Suck-It’ Greencorn27, Tabbitha Polynomen28, Issy-la-Chapelle29, Aida Mither, The Monks30, Henrietta La Chat, Dusty Fidelio31, Herbie Hancat32.
  1. All variations of the various names given to Issy in Finnegans Wake, referencing the Egyptian goddess Isis, as well as Isolde, from the Wagner opera, Tristam unt Isolde, the favourite opera of James Joyce’s daughter, Lucia, who was Joyce’s muse in writing the Wake, as his wife, Nora, had been the muse for Ulysses;
  2. The Wake uses many portmanteau words, words which are a play on two or more words, and so many of Issy’s other names are puns. Thus, Doreen/Chlorine and Pooh Bear etc;
  3. ‘Cause she is a little monkey;
  4. One of Roger Hargreaves less successful Little Miss books;
  5. Tiger and Stripes because she’s a tabby (she also Tab Bratchula, Tabratta, Tabbitha Polynomen);
  6. ‘Cause she’s mental;
  7. Ditto;
  8. ‘Cause of the permanent scratches on my body from play fighting and over affection Also, 'cause she's hard as nails;
  9. As in kangaroo and Roo from Winnie the Pooh, from when she likes to stand up on her hind legs;
  10. ‘Cause I’m old enough to remember Run-Around with Mike Reid;
  11. I forget where this came from. I’ll have read it somewhere. It’s probably Shakespeare;
  12. After John Long Silver’s parrot from her habit of climbing on my shoulder;
  13. Many words and phrases in the Wake repeat themselves but mutate as they go on. Here Monkey (3) has evolved to Monkey Monkton;
  14. ‘Cause I’m old enough to remember the band Scritti Politti;
  15. Maher - Ma-Hair – Simple As;
  16. ‘Cause of the sound she makes when you shine a laser pen on the ground;
  17. I have only seen this phrase once, in The Essential James Joyce in introducing selected sections from Finnegans Wake. In the dream language of the Wake, Issy is represented by the clouds (and her mother, Anna Livia Plurabelle - ALP, by the river);
  18. ‘Who’s My Baby’ after it’s been said a hundred times and now growled in a low menacing voice;
  19. After Joyce’s daughter, Lucia;
  20. A play on the Triple Goddess, Kore/Demeter/Hecate, the worship of who the church suppressed after Rome adopted Christianity, but not before they had stolen the concept of the triple goddess and rebranded it as the holy trinity. In Finnegans Wake, Issy is Kore, ALP, Demeter and Lucia Joyce, who haunts many pages of the Wake, is Hecate, goddess and sorcerer whom Christianity transformed into the Holy Ghost. That, and the cat does have three bowls;
  21. After Inspector Clouseau’s servant in The Pink Panther films, reflecting her habit of jumping out and attacking me when she’s in a playful mood;
  22. A play on the Nepalese city of Kathmandu, said in a Mackam (Sunderland) accent when she won’t behave herself;
  23. When making a run for it on lacquered flooring, her claws prevent her from making immediate purchase on the floor and she appears to run in midair like Wile E. Coyote over a cliff face in the Road Runner cartoons. In the old flat she developed the habit of running at a wall and bouncing off of it;
  24. See 21;
  25. As in, ‘Why, why, why, Delilah’ as she unravels an entire roll of toilet paper and proceeds to eat it;
  26. A clever play on Count Dracula. Ok, maybe not that clever;
  27. From my reading of The Golden Bough, which notes the many traditions and superstitions surrounding the cutting of the last ear of corn during harvest. In farming communities, the one to cut the last ear was believed variously to either be destined to die before the year was out or to receive great fortune. Much pre-Judaeo-Christian religion was built around the planting and harvesting of crops and chiefs of villages were wedded to the elemental goddesses, being various incarnations of Demeter (see also Isis, Artemis, Diana and the Virgin Mary). There is a very specific reference in The Golden Bough to ‘Suck It’ Greencorn, but I’ve forgotten where it is for now;
  28. i.e. Tabbitha the Many-Named;
  29. Finnegans Wake: ‘Issy-la-Chapelle! Any lucans, please?’
  30. See 3 and 13;
  31. Finnegans Wake: 'With their deepbrow fundigs and the dusty fidelios. They laid him brawdawn alanglast bed. With a bockalips of finisky fore his feet. And a barrowload of guenesis hoer his head.’ Also, she’s messy;
  32. ‘Cause when she’s on heat she makes a cry that sounds to me like a bit Herbie Hancock’s Watermelon Man from Head Hunters.
Fifty of so names down, only another nine hundred and fifty to compete with Isis. With my imagination and her talent for getting into trouble, it shouldn’t take too long at all.

Get it done.


Friday, 21 February 2014

(Stoop)

Sorry, but I had nothing else in mind for today. When in doubt, drone on some more about Finnegans Wake.

(Stoop)

I have in the past written quite extensively on the subject of Finnegans Wake and my theory that the Wake has been somewhat misinterpreted over the years since its serialisation and publication. I have written on the influence of both Dante’s Divine Comedy and James George Frazer’s The Golden Bough, as well as an entire essay largely dealing with the Wake’s opening word. So I want here to offer some fairly unorganised notes on some of the other observations I have made in trying to decode Finnegans Wake.

The following observations mostly relate to the first half a dozen pages or so of Finnegans Wake. I offer them purely because there are elements here that jump out of me, but are ignored by any and all of the standard texts that deal with the Wake.

For instance, the second paragraph of the Wake replays the whole of human history from the present day back to the time of Noah and the great flood. The third paragraph deals with the fall of man. Into the mix of this world history is thrown in elements from Irish history. To pick out a couple of phrases which seem significant, first consider:

Not yet, though venisson after, had a kidscad buttended a bland of isaac:

The repetitions of ‘not yet’ throughout the paragraph seems to play with the concept of time, taken at one level to indicate that something has not yet happened, but also saying, not yet, keep going, back even further.

Isaac Butt was a nineteenth century Irish political leader who established a number of organisations in favour of Irish Home Rule. He was later succeed by Charles Stewart Parnell, the Irish politician whose fall from grace due to his affair with a married woman forms one of the many subplots in Ulysses.

However, the influence of Frazer’s Golden Bough is felt keenly throughout the Wake and so Joyce seems also to be drawing attention to Frazer’s theories about the biblical story where Abraham’s takes his son Isaac to the temple mount to sacrifice him, until God sends an angel to stay his hand. Frazer notes that at this time in history it was common place for tribal leaders, chieftains and kings to offer up their own children in sacrifice to the elemental forces that dominated the life of early civilisations. Originally it was the leaders themselves that would be sacrificed, once their powers started to dwindle, but as chieftains and kings became more politically sophisticated, they started to find substitutes to be sacrificed in their place, either from amongst the poor and mentally challenged, or the issue of their own loins.

As with many of the stories that form the book of Genesis, the story of Abraham and Isaac was not meant to be taken literally as an event that actually happened, but rather as an allegory and a covenant and contract with God to eschew the practice of human sacrifice in favour of animal sacrifices, variously interpreted as the sacrifice of a goat or ram.

This is I think is why Isaac (isaac) is described as being old and bland. Old suggests something well established or traditional, whereas bland means common place. The whole phrase therefore translates as, back before animal sacrifice had ended (‘buttended’) the practice of child worship amongst the Israelites.

The other phrase that I find intriguing is at the end of the second paragraph:

and rory end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.

Joyce, in his letter to Harriet Weaver Shaw, 15 November 1926, offers several key insights into the language in this passage:

rory = Irish = red
rory = Latin, roridus = dewy
at the end of the rainbow’s end are dew and the colour red
bloody end  to the lie in Anglo-Irish = no lie
regginbrow = Germ regenbogen + rainbow
ringsome = Germ ringsum, around

Now, in playing history backwards, the end of the second paragraph arrives at Noah’s Ark and God’s placement of the rainbow in the sky to signify his covenant with man never to flood the world again (a promise he’s certainly not keeping in the UK or the Republic of Ireland at the moment). Yet, Finnegans Wake for the vast majority of its narrative is telling two tales at once, one global and universal, the other local and domestic. The passage under consideration seems to be both a reference to Noah’s Ark but also to domestic violence. For a start, the Wake takes place at night, so how can there be a rainbow? Also, the meaning of the phrase using Joyce’s own key is that only the red end of the rainbow is to be seen on the face of the water. It is also ‘ringsome’, yet a rainbow is arc shaped.

In the Wake, bodies of water generally refer to women. The word ‘aquaface’ was written as ‘waterface’ in Joyce’s original draft. This therefore seems to mean that a woman, Anna Livia Plurabelle, has been beaten by her husband, HCE, and she has been left with a red ring on her face, most likely around her eye, which will no doubt become black later on. Man in the Wake is represented by the land and in the opening sentence, the river is described as being swerved by the shore and bent by the bay, which could also indicate domestic violence, being grabbed by the husband and having her arm bent into submission, before a punch is delivered. A bloody end and one which leaves both a red ring and dew in the form of tears.

There are also several phrases which jump out in the next two pages as reference to domestic and sexual violence, but which are not even deemed worthy of mention in the standard texts. For instance:

Wither hayre in honds tuck up your part inher.

Which seems to be clear reference to rape. Or:

Hootch is for husbandman handling his hoe.

Which seems to simply note that alcohol leads to domestic violence. The cycles of death and rebirth are riffed upon time and again within the Wake, as seen when we consider that ‘fin’ is French for ‘end’ or ‘finish’ and therefore Finnegan can be translated as end and begin again, as reflected in the last unfinished sentence of the Wake being said to be completed by the unfinished sentence which begins the novel. However, I also think that the cycles of death and rebirth are as much about sex and misogyny, much of the Wake being about erections and ejaculation, which represent male domination of the female. Again, an example is presented in the first few pages:

His howd feeled heavy, his hoddit did shake. (There was a wall of course in erection) Dimb! He stottered from the latter. Damb! he was dud. Dumb! Mastabatoom, mastabadtomm, when a man merries his lute is all long. For whole the world to see.

Walls, as with so much else in the Wake, represent male priapism, as the section in brackets makes clear (wall = erection). The Wake is written in its very own language, but often it says exactly what it means to say. It is tempting to translate, ‘He stottered from the latter’ into ‘He staggered from the ladder’, a reference to Tim Finnegan in the folk song, Finnegan’s Wake. However, I think that here latter means exactly latter. What is the latter? Well in the bracketed phrase, the latter is ‘erection’. It can then be seen to rather refer to ejaculation (i.e. stottered from the latter = he came out of his penis), after which, ‘he was dud’ or spent. The final phrase once again mixes the local with global, for when a man becomes sexually excited, he gains an erection that the whole world can see, given that men run the world.

The Wake, especially in the first chapter, is full of these keys and ciphers to read it. The second paragraph begins:

Sir Tristram, violer d’amores, fr’over the short sea…

Which translates into, man, the violator of love, over throws women, who is the short sea. Later in the chapter we are told:

(Stoop) if you are abcedminded, to this claybook, what curios of signs (please stoop), in this allaphbed! Can you rede (since We and Thou had it out already) its world? It is the same told of all. Many.

We must stoop because this is the tale of woman, who is shorter than man, and we must therefore alter our height and perception in order to hear her tale and see the world from her perspective.

Indeed, it is curious that the one section of the Wake that Joyce recorded himself reading from, although the recording was made many years before he had finished writing the Wake, is from the end of chapter eight, commonly known as The Washer Women at the Ford. This chapter puns within itself the names of hundreds upon hundreds of rivers from across the world. Given that rivers refer to women, this entire chapter can essentially be translated as, women, women, women, women, women, women, women, women, etc. Yet still the significance of this is overlooked as Joyce obviously knew it would be from the countless references he makes in the Wake to the reader’s obliviousness (‘Can you rede.. its world?). The section he narrated begins:

Well, you know or don’t you kennet or haven’t I told you every telling has a taling and that’s the he and the she of it.

The truth will out, every story gets told sooner or later and that’s the he and the she of it. Every empire, every dictatorship and totalitarian regime comes crashing down eventually and the victors and new rulers remake history in their own image. It happened when the old pantheistic faiths were usurped by multinational monotheism and it is happening again now as those religions begin to wane in their influence and people rediscover the beliefs and ideas of which they tried so hard to destroy any knowledge.

So there you go, a few further thoughts on Finnegans Wake. It’s a never ending task and one to which I will return time and again in these posts. If nothing else, it’s an education.

Get it done.

See also (click links)



Thursday, 13 February 2014

In Defence of Gainful Unemployment

Sorry this one is so late folks, wasn't feeling so great yesterday. There should hopefully be a companion piece to this up later today (when I've written it).

In Defence of Gainful Unemployment

“You know what I hate about working? Bosses. That's what I fucking hate... 

'Hicks, how come you're not working.'

I'd go, 'There's nothing to do.'

'Well, you pretend like you're working.'

'Well, why don't you pretend I'm working? Yeah, you get paid more than me, you fantasise. Pretend I'm mopping. Knock yourself out. I'll pretend they're buying stuff; we can close up. I'm the boss now, you're fired. How's that?'

I don't know if I have the right attitude for the workplace.”
                                                                   Bill Hicks

As I write these words, I haven’t worked in more than a year. If you were to believe half of the newspapers in this country, including the one that historically supported Hitler and Oswald Mosley’s Blackshirts, this makes me a parasite, a scrounger and an enemy of the state.

There was a time when I had no trouble finding work, I could walk out of one temporary job on a Friday afternoon and start the next one the following Monday. It was easy and the jobs I did were easy. Office work is like Windows based software, once you’ve learnt the mechanics of one system, you find that the rest have all the same features and cheats. An office job is merely a series of tasks and all one needs to do in order to do that job quickly and effectively is to break it down into its individual tasks and then reassemble them into the most efficient order possible.

I have had jobs where I regularly exceeded my weekly targets by 200% or 300% and still only put in three days actual work, spending the rest of the time doing my own thing, writing or messing around on Twitter. Any organisation that employs me will need to accept a certain amount of compromise. I’ll give you the work output of two, three members of staff, but you may have to look the other way when I’ve done all my work by 3pm and spend the rest of the afternoon reading Shakespeare online.

I once had an encounter with a manager in which she berated me, saying, “Every time I turn around there’s something other than work on your screen.” Rather than argue with her, I took the afternoon to clear the team’s entire workload and her entire team had virtually nothing to do for the rest of the month.

It always amazes me how long people take to perform the simplest of tasks. I can honestly assess myself as being well above average intelligence in many areas, disinterested and thick as shit in others, but the tricks and metal acrobatics I use to get work done quickly and effectively are well within the bounds of everyone. Most offices use some kind of software based on Microsoft Office and if you know even a handful of the shortcut keys it can save hours over the course of a week. Alt + Tab are the two most important key combinations on any keyboard, as these toggle between open screens and allow you to quickly switch from the pair of shoes you are bidding for on eBay to the letter you’re supposed to be writing just as you boss happens to be walking past.

Avoid using the mouse like the plague. The mouse is the great siphon of time, there is no task that uses the mouse that can’t be done using shortcut keys in a fraction of the time. I once watched a computer programmer friend of mine trying to copy and paste a paragraph of text using the mouse and making a pig’s ear of the entire task. So here’s a quick shortcut 101 in copying a paragraph of text from one place to another:

1.    Use the Ctrl Key + Up Arrow to manoeuvre to the beginning of the paragraph you wish to copy;
2.    Hold down the Shift Key + Ctrl Key and press Down Arrow to highlight the entire paragraph;
3.    Hold down Ctrl Key and press C to copy the paragraph.
4.    Use Alt + Tab to toggle to the document where the text if going to be pasted;
5.    Hold down Ctrl Key and press V to paste the paragraph;
6.    Done.

What with his faffing about, it took my friend the best part of five minutes to do a job that should have taken about five seconds.

I apologise if the above instructions seem overly patronising, but likesay, my friend is a software programmer and even he doesn’t seem to have mastered the basics of keyboard manipulation. If more of us took the time to learn some of these basic tricks, we would find that we have far more time on our hands during the course of the work day and could get on with doing something more proactive and life affirming.

In the 1960s we were being told that eventually we would only have to work for an hour day and spent of the rest of the time engaged in leisure activities. Things haven’t quite got that far as yet, but with a little insider knowledge you can cut your work day down by a considerable amount. I have spent much of the last decade working in the public sector, auditing the complaints handling practices of the legal and medical sectors and yet even there I have been able to outperform most of my colleagues without really trying. All it takes is indentifying the tasks that you perform time and time again and putting in place further shortcuts, like documents of standard paragraphs or user defined shortcut keys.

I say I haven’t worked in more than a year, but the truth is that I haven’t put in a full day’s work in years. There is no need. Most of us could comfortably work part time, but then the point of work has never been about gainful employment, it’s about having the majority of the population in one location and under surveillance, if only in some family firm. If you’re working, you’re less likely to be opposing government subsidies of the energy companies or banking sector. You’re less like to be causing trouble for the established order. Unless you’re incredibly lucky to be doing something you love doing, then your week is spent waiting for the weekend where you can spend a great deal of time reaching the levels of intoxication required to forget about the drudgery of your job. And if you’re pissed up on the street of a Saturday night, then the only thing you’re going to smash up is your own community. Still better than taking part in a demonstration against government cuts.

Even people who go to university and train for years in their chosen profession end up doing something trivial that they hate. The system does this to us. If western society was any of things that it professes to be, free, fair, democratic, etc, then everyone would have the opportunity to pursue the thing they most desire, even if that dream was of no benefit to anyone but them. In a Capitalist system, where the only thing which counts for anything is money, shouldn’t everyone be rich?

It is often said that it is inappropriate to talk about Marxism having failed because Marxism has never really been tried, given that Communist China and Soviet Russia were anathema to the principles in which Marx believed. The same is true of Capitalism. It’s inappropriate to talk about being anti-Capitalist because Capitalism has never really been tried. Noam Chomsky notes that in financial circles economists are supposed to worship Adam Smith, but never read him, because while Smith talked about the invisible hand of the market, he was opposed to globalisation and, by the standards of today, was more of a socialist than capitalist (besides, as comedian, Andy Zaltzman, points out, if you had an invisible hand, what would you do with it?). If there are homeless people on the streets or people can’t afford to pay their rent then this is Capitalism failing to do the one thing it was set up in order to achieve.

Instead of Capitalism, we have inherited a system of corporate totalitarianism, where all of the benefits and influence have been concentrated into the hand of a select few and the rest of us are left to fight over the scraps. Both of my grandfathers fought the Nazis in the Second World War, one in the Royal Navy, the other in the RAF. One died before I was born, the other died before I was a teenager. In my most cynical moments, I want to travel back in time and tell them not to bother. Fascism won in the end. They just rebranded it.

£5billion in benefits go unclaimed in the UK every year. Unemployment benefits account for a tiny fraction of the country’s total benefit bill. The energy sector alone receives £15billion is subsidies, despite charging extortionate prices. Yet if you are unemployed and claiming benefits then you must be a scrounger. You must be demonised by the rest of society, be a scapegoat and a distraction to prevent the working population from waking up from staring dead-eyed at a computer screen or factory production line, thinking, “Hang on.” to themselves and forming a mob. Not that a mob even is required these days. Look at what happened to the News of the World in no time what’s so ever. We, the people have real power, but we are kept from realising it at all costs by the thousand and one shiny objects dangled in front of our eyes.

Like most prejudices, the demonisation of the unemployed comes down to an issue of basic jealousy. Most people would like not to have to work in the job that they have, but rather work towards their dream job. In an ideal world people would be paid by virtue of how much their profession benefits society. Bankers and politicians would be paid virtually nothing. Nurses and the Fire Brigade would be rich. Artists, musicians, writers, comedians etc would be paid a living wage just to sit around and think and create. Indeed, in some European countries, artists receive a stipend from the state to go and be artists. We deride the befits system, but then how many sitcoms or award winning plays have been written by out of work actors or writers subsisting on the state? Isn’t that worth the pitiful amount we spend on benefits? I have no figures to hand, but I’d be willing to bet that West End revenues for plays and musicals written by writers while unemployed easily outmatch the cost of the time taken to write three drafts of a play at £71 a fortnight.

Of course, my great artistic hero is the writer James Joyce. Joyce, like the unemployed, is often labelled a scrounger, including people who should know better. And yes, Joyce did live off of handouts and endowments from rich benefactors for many years. Yet he also arguably created two or three of the most important works in the entire history of world literature. Ulysses and Finnegans Wake in particular are high concept novels that are beyond the skill or tolerance of most people, but that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t have been written. Popularity is no measure of worth, in fact a graph plotted of worth verses popularity is a black body radiation curve which rises quickly from the left, but falls of towards the right (cf. Avatar, U2 and Dan Brown for examples of the popular but god awful). 


Joyce spent seven years on Ulysses, seventeen on the Wake and I, for one, am extremely grateful to his benefactors for allowing him the time and space to complete those novels, for they give me great joy. The study of imaginary numbers (the square root of -1) was for centuries nothing more than the study of a mathematically curiosity and yet thanks to the pioneering works of the likes of Joseph Fourier in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, we now use imaginary and complex numbers in everything we do from radio to the internet. If we followed the example of the economic system, where nothing is of any value unless it is profitable, then the study of imaginary numbers would have been abandoned as a waste of time long before a use had been found for them.

There was a time when I could walk into a temp job with nothing more than a phone call and be in the same role for three years, earning a decent income. These days, even the most low grade of roles requires an interview, usually a competency based interview. My brain isn’t built to deal with competency based interviews. For a start, the name itself is a misnomer. Most competency based interview questions can be broken down into two sorts, either the question is redundant, as it refers to something already covered by the applicant’s CV, making a mockery of the point of sending a CV, or the question is actually an incompetency based question of the form, ‘Tell us of a time when you have been incompetent and what you did to cover your ass’.

Interviews used to be about assessing your character and suitability for a role, but these days an interview is about how good you are at being interviewed. Interviewing itself used to be a skill, now it is likely that the person who judges your suitability isn’t even present at the interview, instead relying on notes taken at the interview. The interviewers themselves are so busy writing that they can’t possibly be concentrating enough on the candidate to form a opinion of their own. Anyone who knows me knows that in real life I am fairly quiet. I usually don’t speak unless I have something to say. I’m no good at bullshitting and these days interviews are all about bullshit. It’s not appropriate to give my honest answer to any (in)competency based question, which is this:

Because it’s just a job. It’s easy and it shouldn’t require this much horseshit to become employed. In the time you have spent asking me fatuous questions, I could have learnt the job already, that’s how simple I already know it to be. I am quietly confident that you could plonk me down at a work terminal in NASA Mission Control at Cape Canaveral and I would soon figure out what I supposed to be doing. And yes, you are right, I am extremely arrogant, but what you call arrogance I call a sense of depressing familiarity borne out by twenty years working in offices, where I have vested interest in learning the role as quickly as possible, because the quicker I learn the role the quicker I can get back to thinking about the use of synecdoche in  Finnegans Wake and do this job on autopilot and never think about it ever again, like every other job I’ve ever had. So the question you should really be asking yourselves is, do we want to employ someone who will uncomfortably struggle to merely hit their targets, or someone who will do the work of two or three people without care? Your move hotshots.

Perhaps I should memorise the above script for my next interview. Or perhaps I shouldn’t be allowed to work in offices anymore. I’d much rather someone paid me to be a writer though. Trust me, I have spent more time and effort writing this one article than I’ve ever put in at work. How much its content is worth is of course down to how much you, the reader, gets out of it. Yet like Joyce, just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean it has no worth. I haven’t worked in a year, but at the same time I have done more work reading, studying, researching and writing in one year unemployed than in twenty years of work. What’s that worth?

I’m still looking for a job, but I also have an A4 page brimming full of titles for pieces to be getting on and writing. Perhaps one of them might lead to something that isn’t mind numbing and soul destroying. My advice to those of you that are stuck in a hateful role is stop taking pride in your work, treat it like the insult to your intelligence that it undoubtedly is, learn the simple tricks to get the job done in a quarter of the time and do something more soulful and life affirming. Yes, this entire article is one of breath taking arrogance, but ramping up that arrogance even further, take a minute to think about it and you’ll realise that you’re just jealous. Don’t be jealous. Do something about your situation.

Get it done.


Sunday, 9 February 2014

Solve for ‘riverrun,’

This one's a week late, but also early. Enjoy.

Solve for ‘riverrun,’

“the canonicity of his existence as a tesseract.”
FW 100:31

Spend any length of time reading, studying and thinking about the works of James Joyce and sooner or later you have to come to the conclusion that the person Joyce most wanted to be compared with wasn’t another author at all but the physicist Albert Einstein.

In this essay I am going to demonstrate that his final masterpiece, Finnegans Wake, should be thought of as Joyce’s General Theory of History, complimenting Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity. As Einstein’s General Theory came after his Special Theory of Relativity, so I will show that Finnegans Wake is a General Theory as Joyce’s previous novel, Ulysses, is his Special Theory of History.

Like Newton before him, Einstein’s field equations of gravitation are summarised in a single equation:

G  = 8Ï€G/c4 * T (1)

where: G is the Einstein tensor, G the gravitational constant of the universe, c the speed of light and T the energy-momentum tensor.

Solutions to this single equation result in descriptions of black holes, the big bang, the expansion of the universe, dark energy, gravitational red shifting, gravitational lensing and gravitational waves. Many of these solutions were found by scientists other than Einstein. How much of what is discussed below was meant by Joyce is of course open to question, but it is still a useful exercise to undertake.

The opening word of Finnegans Wake is, ‘riverrun,’ which can also be written as:

riverrun, =  8Ï€G/c4 * T (2)

as when solutions are found to this single word, it unpacks itself into more complicated terms, much as Einstein’s field equations do. Indeed, it can be shown that Finnegans Wake is merely one (albeit extremely complicated) solution to ‘riverrun,’.

Equation (2) is not meant to be taken literally or to hold as being mathematically valid, but merely as a visual representation of what Joyce seems to be trying to achieve with Finnegans Wake. That said, the rest of this essay will be concerned with finding solutions for ‘riverrun,’.

The first thing we need to think about is something not always fully appreciated when considering the opening word of Finnegans Wake. ‘riverrun,’ is not a word. It is two words jammed together to create a compound word. Whether that word is even a noun or a verb is open to debate. I will deal with this issue later on, but for now I will state the opinion that it is a question of either/or.

Finnegans Wake is filled with what are known as portmanteau words, a class of word first used and described by Lewis Carroll. ‘[I]mmarginable’ is a typical example from the Wake, using the Latin prefix ‘Im’ for ‘un’ or ‘not’ to express the sense of something being so big that it is both unimaginable and without margins (Im is also used in mathematical symbolism to denote the imaginary part of a complex number).

Portmanteau words in the Wake often hover between two or more meanings. However, the opening word of Finnegans Wake is not a portmanteau word at all but compound, taking ‘river’ and ‘run’ and joining them together to form ‘riverrun,’. Why?

In the grand scheme of Finnegans Wake, femininity is represented by water and masculinity by the land. The River Liffey is the most usual representation of woman, encapsulated by the Wake’s leading female character, Anna Livia Plurabelle (ALP), who is Joyce’s reimagining of Anna Liffey, the name given by Dubliners to the river which runs through their city.

The main male character in the Wake is Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker (HCE). HCE lies beneath Dublin, his head out at the Hill of Howth, overlooking Dublin Bay, his feet stick up out beyond Phoenix Park to the west. Men in the Wake are represented by land and settlements established upon that land.

Assuming that the ‘river’ in ‘riverrun,’ represents femininity, then we can show that ‘run’ is in turn a representation of the male. James Joyce’s Ulysses is a modern retelling of Homer’s Odyssey, a sea based adventure which Joyce relocates to the streets of Dublin, 16 June 1904. His male lead, Leopold Bloom, spends the day walking around Dublin rather than return to his home where his wife is unfaithful to him with concert promoter, Blazes Boylan. Running is a faster form of walking (In Ulysses, Bloom manages to cover some distances walking that he would have had to be running to have travelled in the time Joyce describes). As this action occurs on land, ‘run’ therefore represents the land and, in the dream language of Finnegans Wake, masculinity.

By compounding these two symbols of the female and male together, ‘riverrun,’ represents fertilisation. Within this one word is the entire plot of Finnegans Wake, which, just like the fertilised egg, divides and subdivides from word to sentence to page to book, containing all of the genetic material required to create the plot of the novel.

Once we accept that ‘river’ is female and ‘run’ is male, then we can also see that the two halves of the opening word have a single letter in common, ‘river’ containing two rs and ‘run’ containing one. It might already be possible to appreciate the significance of this, but recourse to some basic geometry illuminates the point even further:

Pythagoras Theorem









where: a2 + b2 = c2


But in Cartesian and polar coordinate systems:










where: x2 + y2 = r2

And:

x = rcosθ

y = rsinθ

If we therefore translate the three rs of ‘riverrun,’ into xs, we can see that these represent the x chromosome, two in the female half, one in the male half. Moreover, whereas we talk today of women having two x chromosomes and men having an x and a y chromosome, originally the y chromosome was known as the o chromosome. So the o chromosome becomes 0 (zero) and as in English ‘un’ means ‘not’ or ‘lacking’ (unsympathetic, unhappy, unlucky etc), we can show via substitution that ‘run’ becomes xo to represent the male set of chromosomes.

As well as employing countless portmanteau words, certain letters of the alphabet in Finnegans Wake can be thought of as interchangeable. The letters p and k/c are one example. In the Goidelic language family (of which Irish Gaelic is a member), the letter p was abandoned in the ancient past and not reintroduced until after the introduction of Christianity. Saint Patrick himself was for a time known as Catraige or Cotraige.

The most interesting interchange of letters within Finnegans Wake is between the letters v, f and s. This can be seen, for instance, in the title of the book itself, where Finnegan can also be Vinnegan, reflecting the cycle of birth and death, where we will all be dead and rotting in the ground eventually, like fine wine reduced to sour vinegar (‘Sennday’s eve and, ah, you’re vinegar’.).

As the letter f was written without a cross stroke in English script until the seventeenth century, f’s could also look like an s. Finnegan then becomes Sinneagan, because sin is as circular as death. However, sin is also shorthand for sine, which in geometry gives us y when multiplying by r. Y represents masculinity and so the title is also telling us that the idea of original sin is a male invention.

Finnegans Wake could refer to the funeral wake for a man named Finnegan, or to a family called Finnegan awakening (hence the lack of an apostrophe). Yet it could also be a plea for the men of the world to awaken from their collective fantasy that original sin is literally true, rather than an invention to divest them of any responsibility for their own actions.

Ulysses is a book of the day and Finnegans Wake is a book of the night, the latter taking place as it does during the course of a dream. Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity deals with photons of light moving at speeds at or close to the speed of light. The General Theory of Relativity deals with gravity. Ulysses can be thought of a equating to the Special Theory as it takes place during the daylight and therefore deals with light. If we perform some further linguistic transposition on the ‘run’ in ‘riverrun,’, noticing that not only is ‘un’ a Middle English word for ‘not’, but also the French male form of the indefinite article, ’a’, then ‘run’ also becomes, ‘ra’ or ‘Ra’, the Egyptian God of the Sun.

Finnegans Wake equates to the General Theory of Relativity as it takes place at night, dominion of the moon, whose gravitational pull causes the tides of the oceans, seas and some rivers. The River Liffey is a tidal river (unlike the Amazon for instance) which can vary in height and depth by as much as three and a half meters during the course of a day. It is then entirely appropriate that the Wake begins with reference to the river, which feels the influence of the moon (as Ulysses begins with the words, “Stately, plump” suggesting the stability of land).

Ulysses is not only a book of the day, but a book of men, taking place during the daylight, where male considerations dominate the human sphere of existence even to this day. It is Joyce’s Special Theory of History, as its action takes place in daylight, amongst the realm of men, where woman’s only role is as temptress or unfaithful wife or whore. It is only when Leopold Bloom has fallen asleep at the end of the Ithaca chapter that his wife, Molly, is allowed to tell her own story in the dark, becoming Penelope, faithful wife to her husband’s Odysseus. By day she is Calypso, the nymph who kept Odysseus as her sex slave for many years.

All of Joyce’s previous works deal with female oppression and emancipation. From Eveline in Dubliners, to Bertha in Exiles to ‘Dante’ and the Bird Girl in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, right through to Molly Bloom, whose unpunctuated soliloquy ends Ulysses and is still regarded as one of the most accurate characterisations of female sexuality and sensuality to be written by a male author, Joyce clearly thought a lot about the plight of women. This was probably as a result of the untimely death of his own mother from cancer, which he blamed on the Irish Roman Catholic lifestyle and caused him to flee the city and Ireland altogether, eloping with his girlfriend, Nora Barnacle. In doing so, Joyce saw himself as having rescued Nora from the same fate as his mother in the process.

This isn’t to say that James Joyce was the most enlightened man of his generation on the issue of female emancipation. He could be as sexist as anyone. Yet when compared with his contemporaries, like the real life treatment of women by Henry Miller or Ernest Hemingway, or the stereotypically one dimensional female characters to be found in the novels of George Orwell (amongst others), Joyce was decades ahead of his time. Whatever their subject matter, Ulysses had Nora as its muse (the novel being set on the day of the couple’s first date), whereas his daughter, Lucia, serves as muse to Finnegans Wake, where much of the arcane language is based on the secret language that James and Lucia used to communicate.e He He

‘riverrun,’ represents the fertilised egg, which can only survive inside the womb, giving further weight to the idea that Finnegans Wake is principally concerned with women. Indeed, we might also think of ‘riverrun,’ as a river of semen exiting the vagina after sex. The Wake might be an inclusive history of women, but it is also, ultimately, a book about male domination over women. For women during most of recent human history, their only contribution to history has been in the production of male heirs. Produce the wrong type of child and it could mean a trip to the executioner’s block.

This is another reason why the Wake takes place at night. It is the time during which such activities take place. Women were only allowed to contribute to civilisation in the bedroom. Yet it was also the place where they could gain freedom. As Molly only tells her story as Leopold sleeps, so women throughout history have only experienced any kind of freedom through their dreams. Finnegans Wake then is the story of a river dreaming.

Much has been made of the fact that Finnegans Wake begins with a lower case word. Not, Riverrun, but ‘riverrun,’. The usual explanation for this is that the first sentence of the Wake is only the second half of a sentence whose first half is the final, unfinished, sentence at the end of the novel:

A way, a lone, a last, a loved, a long the

The Wake moves through a series of circular stages to reflect the circular movement of Dante’s Divine Comedy and reference to Giambattista Vico’s New Science, which postulates four cycles to human history that repeat themselves. If the opening of the novel is the second half of the concluding sentence, then riverrun must be a noun. Yet if this is true the question becomes, what is a riverrun? Is it the movement of the river? Or the riverbank or pavement running parallel to the river’s edge? Things become even more confusing when we consider how the Wake’s opening sentence develops:

riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay...

which sounds like the description of the movement of the river, making ‘riverrun’ more verb than noun.

My feeling is that there are a number of other reasons why the Wake begins on a lower case word. Firstly, as the Wake is on one level the entirety of recorded human history compacted into a single book of 626 pages, so it begins on a lower case word to reflect the fact that civilisation already existed before the invention of the written word. Any attempt to encapsulate history can only ever be partially successful. We can only retell that which has been remembered and what is remembered can usually only be told if our ancestors wrote it down. The Wake ends on an incomplete sentence because history has not finished being written and was still in progress as the Wake was set down. Today’s news headlines are the historical chronicles of tomorrow.

The opening page of Finnegans Wake is three paragraphs long and I can’t shake the feeling that Joyce meant the opening page to serve as a kind of Rosetta Stone to the rest of the book. The Wake is tortuously difficult at times, but some of that pain can be alleviated by studying the opening page in as much detail as possible. Many of the ciphers to unravelling the Wake are in that first page and those ciphers lead to further codes that need to be solved, substituted and transposed throughout the book.

For instance, consider this single sentence, from page 5 (the novel begins on page 3, probably reflecting the Divine Comedy’s obsession with the number three):

What then agentlike brought about that tragoady thundersday this municipal sin business?

I’ll return to this sentence in a little more detail later on, but for now, concentrate on that word, ‘agentlike’. This word proved difficult for a while, as I knew there was something about it that I wasn’t seeing. The only thing that the standard texts, like Roland McHugh’s Annotations to Finnegans Wake, have to say on this word is that it is comparable to the German word, ‘eigentlich’, meaning ‘really’.

The solution comes when we consider the portmanteau word ‘tragoady’, which plays on the fact that the English word ‘tragedy is thought to originate in the Greek word, ‘tragus’, meaning goat. Greek tragedies were traditionally written to be performed during festivals dedicated to Pan, the Greek deity often represented as a goat.

If we then look at the word ‘agentlike’ with a little knowledge of how Greek words have influenced the formation of certain English words, we can see that ‘agentlike’ is a negation, like apolitical, atypical, asexual, etc. If we then perform the reverse type of transposition that we performed to make ‘run’ become ‘Ra’, ‘agentlike’ becomes ungentlike, or ungentleman like. We’ll consider what is so ungentlemanly about ‘this municipal sin business’ shortly.

I would advise that if you intend to study the Wake in any detail, the first task to perform should be to memorise the opening page. This works for many authors, memorising certain key speeches from Shakespeare can help with understanding the language that Shakespeare uses, because in learning his speeches you will gain an understanding of the rhythms of his speech and end up looking up the words you don’t understand.

The same is true of the Wake and the task is easier today than ever before thanks to the many resources available online. Even Wiktionary, the dictionary companion to Wikipedia, is a great help as it lists the definitions for any word in all languages in which that word is spoken. The language of the Wake contains streams from more than sixty languages and Wiktionary is invaluable in this regard (though as with anything on Wikipedia, it should only ever be used as a stepping stone to more reputable sources of information). See also Finnegans Wiki.

As anyone knows who’s ever been to the British Museum in London, the Rosetta Stone is broken off at the beginning. It repeats the same text in three language scripts, hieroglyphics, demotic Egyptian and Greek. Similarly, the opening page of Finnegans Wakes uses Vico’s theory of historical cycles to tell three versions of human history, erasing female involvement at each stage. The lowercase in ‘riverrun,’ is then partially to mimic the look of the Rosetta Stone.

The main reason why ‘riverrun’ is lowercase is exactly because Finnegans Wake is feminine to the masculinity of Ulysses. The characters HCE and ALP appear throughout the Wake, spelling out hundreds of acrostic phrases: Here Comes Everybody, Haunted, Condemned and Excoriated, Hic cubat edilis; Apud libertinam pavulam, A Laughable Party, Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle’s to be, as well as many, many others. Yet the first ALP acrostic is on page 4 and is in lower case: ‘addle liddle phifie Annie’. By contrast HCE first appears in capitals as ‘Howth Castle and Environs’, ending the opening sentence. So the first sentence, also the first paragraph, begins with the lower case ‘riverrun’, alluding to ALP, but ends with HCE (‘Howth Castle and Environs’).

The second paragraph starts with the name ‘Sir Tristram’, its capitalisation expressing masculinity, but ends with the lowercase word, ‘aquaface’, returning us to the feminine river. This roughly approximates the movement of the chorus in Greek drama (chorus, from the Greek ‘kora’, for girl). The chorus was originally made up entirely of women, who would move from one side of the stage to the other (strophe and antistrophe), as they spoke.

The third and final paragraph of the opening page begins with the Fall of Man, but ends on the word, ‘livvy’, a portmanteau compaction of Liffey, Livia, Issy (daughter to Anna Livia) and Iffy, or Irfana, a Persian girl’s name meaning ‘believer’. Whilst the opening paragraph tends to turn the female towards the masculine, the subsequent two paragraphs turn the action back towards the feminine.

‘riverrun,’ is also a reminder of how human civilisation got started. It is a reminder that we were once a nomadic species, following the migrating animals that we hunted for meat. However, at some point ten or twenty thousand years ago humans started to turn away from being nomadic and instead settled and slowly those settlements became villages which became towns which became cities and megacities and nation states. Recent archaeological evidence has shown that the first settlements probably came about thanks to the planting of cereal crops, a task which would have been carried out by the gathers in a tribe, not the hunters. As men hunted and women gathered, women can be said to have invented civilisation.

Joyce would have known about an earlier form of this theory from James George Frazer’s classic text on comparative world mythology, The Golden Bough. As part of The Golden Bough, Frazer traces back the worship of corn gods to what he believed were the two earliest corn gods, Demeter and Persephone, not gods at all but goddesses. Frazer states that as they were goddesses, women must have been the first farmers, because at that time in history men exclusively worshiped male gods and women worshipped goddesses.

Later, of course, the Abrahamic faiths adopted the idea that Eve was responsible for man’s ejection from the Garden of Eden and therefore responsible for original sin and the end of mankind’s immortality. Joyce reflects all of this in the opening two clauses of Finnegans Wake:

riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s,

As with ‘riverrun,’, the significance of ‘past Eve and Adam’s’ tends to get overlooked. For a start, past is misspelt. For the clause to make sense, it should be spelt, ‘passed’. Some have speculated that the words have been bent out of shape to fit the name, ‘Steven’, the name of Joyce’s grandson. We’ll probably never know for sure, but I think this is either a coincidence, or if not a coincidence then it is Joyce being more insulting than complimentary, including his own grandson’s name to indicate that patriarchal domination is unlikely to end at any time in the near future. Much more likely is that the misspelling of ‘past’, plus the swapping around of the traditional order of Adam and Eve is pretty good evidence that the whole thing is backwards and should read:

Adam and Eve’s past, riverrun.

In a universal, general theory of history, men and women were at one time equals (as reflected in the parity of ‘riverrun,’), but then men invented the myth of Adam and Eve to steal any equality or any claim to women as having been the progenitors or civilisation, reducing them to the level of seed bearers, as they were once seed planters. I can’t think of a more perfectly feminine profession than the nurturing role of gardener, yet in the Garden of Eden story it is Adam who is gardener and, by extension, farmer, not Eve, whose only role is as the destroyer of paradise.

Joyce is telling us in the Wake’s opening two clauses that sometimes we have to look beyond what seems like a natural termination point, like Genesis and the Garden of Eden (again reflected in the lower case opening word, which isn’t quite the beginning it appears to be). It’s what humans tend to do when looking for explanations. We will follow a chain of events backwards only for as long as it takes us to find a comforting result. Poverty causes crime, so why bother to look at what causes poverty? God created the universe, no need to know what created God.

We can now see what is so ungentlemanly about ‘this municipal sin business’. Municipality refers to a city, which is a form of settlement. Yet in the backwash of words within the Wake, ‘municipal sin’ becomes ‘original sin’ in our minds and we are reminded of Adam and Eve, overwriting the historical fact of our female gathering ancestors settling society. If we also remember that ‘agentlike’ sounds like the German word, ‘eigentlich’, to mean really, then the full translation of the sentence we look at earlier is, ‘What then really happened to cause this ungentlemanly conduct that resulted in woman’s claim to having established stable settlements and civilisation in general being replaced with this myth of Man’s fall at the Garden of Eden?’.

‘Municipal’ also refers to Phoenix Park in Dublin, a park managed by the council, serving as a stand in for the Garden of Eden. Here HCE has committed some crime, the nature of which has been open to much speculation. Yet the true crime committed in the park is the creation of the Garden of Eden itself and the historical theft which it and original sin helped to cover up.

‘riverrun,’ is very specifically ‘riverrun,’. It is not, ‘riverran,’ or ‘riverruns’. Not past tense or present tense, but future tense. A hope for the future. It is also imperative. ‘riverrun,’ is a command, imploring the river to tell its tale (‘the meander tale’). In the backwash of words, the response to this opening command is answered by the final words of Molly Bloom’s soliloquy at the end of Ulysses: ‘riverrun,’; ‘yes i said yes i will yes’. Indeed the influence of the Wake runs backward as far as Ithaca, the penultimate chapter of Ulysses, which takes the form of a series of questions and the answers to those questions. We only find out why Ithaca takes the form it does when Bloom gets into bed, wakes Molly, who quizzes him about his day until he falls asleep, leaving her to finish the novel in an unpunctuated, uncapitalised stream which flows into and mingles with the uncapitalised beginning to the Wake. As ‘riverrun,’ flows backwards into ‘yes.’, so Molly’s questioning at the end of Ithaca flow backwards to the beginning of the chapter to give it form.

In physics and maths, a vector is a quantity that has both a size and a direction. 20mph, north is a simple vector. The reason we do this is to be able to compare and contrast vectors. If you are travelling 20mph, north and I pass you at 30mph, south, then we pass each other at 20mph + 30mph = 50mph. This is relativity in its most basic form.

We can describe a vector by drawing two points on a graph, naming each point (A & B for instance), drawing a line between those points and an arrow to denote direction. A vector quantity is then named by combining the two points, with an arrow above them to show the direction. For instance:

‘riverrun,’ is a vector quantity. It should really be written with an arrow over it (which blogger isn't sophisticated enough to be able to do). The flow of history is from female to male, from the sea to the land, from hunter/gatherers to Adam and Eve. Man is borne by and born of woman. Life started in the oceans and certain forms evolved to survive on land. The parity of ‘riverrun,’ was destroyed when worship to a pantheon of female deities was outlawed by the priests of emergent male monotheism (and ultimately defeated by the adoption of worship of the Virgin Mary, who is Diana, who is Artemis, who is Isis, who is Demeter).

Taken in purely female terms, the ‘riverrun,’ vector also runs backwards in time. The name Demeter means ‘mother earth’, ‘De’ originally being ‘Ge’ for earth (as in geology) and ‘meter’, meaning ‘mother’. In the story of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone is kidnapped and taken down to the underworld. Demeter must travel into hell to rescue her. It reflects the way in which seeds (the mother) are planted in the ground and from the seed shoots new life (Persephone), ready for harvest.

Whereas women originally held dominion over the land and its cultivation, men usurped this position and took over farming. The various retellings of the journey into the underworld replacing mother and daughter with male protagonists, Odysseus, Orpheus, Aeneas, Jesus, is reflected by placing HCE under the land, whereas ALP is relegated to the river at the margins of the land. HCE’s burial is both a metaphor for sleep and of ALP’s desire to see him dead and buried, heralding her return to dominion over the land.

ALP’s daughter, Persephone here becoming Issy, is represented in Finnegans Wake by the clouds in the sky that will fall as rain to flow into the river and share the mother’s fate. In placing Issy or Isabelle in the clouds, Joyce once again inverts world history. The full name of the Greek god, Zeus, was originally Zeu pater, meaning father Zeus or sky father. Jupiter, father Jove, was once Iupiter, sky father (piter here meaning father). Sanskrit also has a word, Dyau piter, also meaning sky father, which comes into Old English as Tiw, from where modern English gets the word, Tuesday. All of these words have their origin in an Indo European phrase, Dyeus peter, meaning father of the daytime sky, our linguistic roots identifying our ancestors as sun worshipers. Words like day, diurnal and divine all come from the same root word. Again, the sun and the light are the preserves of masculinity. Gravity and the moon are feminine.

Men once looked to the sky for divinity. Women found life through planting and harvest. Later, men took over the job of farming and women were left with only the pain of childbirth and original sin. God came down from the sky and took up residence in temples and churches. With the position now vacant, Joyce relocates his heroines to rain and river, the most elemental of all life's essentials. Without womb or water, human existence would not be possible.

You will notice that throughout I have been pedantically referring to the opening word of Finnegans Wake as ‘riverrun,’ always including the comma at the end of the word. This is deliberate. I mentioned that the Wake begins on page 3, probably to reflect Dante’s obsession with the number 3 in The Divine Comedy. The number 3 represents the Holy Trinity in Christian mythology and to Dante the number 9 represented the profundity of God’s creation, as it represents the sole root of 3 (3 x 3 = 9). The Wake begins on page 3 and its opening page has three paragraphs. The first five letters of ‘riverrun,’ represent woman and the next three represent man. As this compound word represents the fertilised egg, the comma is the beginning of the process of subdivision and attaches to the letters to give an opening word nine characters in length. The opening sentence, which is also the opening paragraph, is twenty seven words long (3 x 9 = 27). The opening chapter is twenty seven pages long. The Wake has 626 pages. 6 x 2 x 6 = 72; 7 + 2 = 9.

The Wake concentrates on its five family members. As well as husband and wife HCE and ALP and their daughter Issy, there are the male twins, Shaun and Shem. Something interesting happens when we assign numerical values to their names. If each letter is given a number, such that a =1, b= 2 etc., all the way up to z = 26, then we find that each of the children’s names add up to a multiple of 9. Issy = 72 (9 + 19 + 19 + 25 = 9 x 8); Shaun = 63 (19 + 8 + 1 + 21 + 14 = 9 x 7); Shem = 45 ( 19 + 8 + 5 + 13 = 9 x 5).

Moreover, not only do all six letters of the parent’s names, HCE & ALP, add up to 45, but their initial letters also add up to nine.

If we adopt the theory that the Wake is a feminine history, the story of Echo rather than Narcissus (‘The echo is where in the back of the wodes; callhim forth!’), we see that HCE is the first three letters of Echo read backwards. The Wake is a circle, signifying the womb, and by reading HCE backwards, the o of Echo is to be found in the fertilised egg of ‘riverrun,’.

Adding up the numbers for each of the children (72 + 63 + 45) gives a total of 180, which  averages out to 180/3 = 60. If we add the final ‘o’ of Echo (with a numerical value of 15) to HCE and ALP, we get a total also equalling 60 (60 x 3 children = 180).

Mathematically then it can be shown that HCE + ALP = Issy, Shem and Shaun, but only with the addition of a nourishing womb, inside of which life can get started. It’s another mathematical joke, given the impact of the number zero in the history of mathematics. Yet by remembering how the y chromosome was originally called the o chromosome, life cannot start without either the womb or male genetic input. In the society in which Joyce was writing and, to a lesser extent, the society of today, the only place where female/male parity is preserved is in that moment of creation.

It took Einstein eleven years after the publication of the Special Theory of Relativity (the  paper is actually titled, ‘The Electrodynamics of Moving Bodies’) to learn the mathematics necessary to be able to put his ideas on gravity into academic form. Joyce spent seventeen years writing Finnegans Wake once he had finished with Ulysses, inventing a new language in the process. By the time Joyce was writing the first snatches of the Wake, General Relativity had made Einstein the most famous man alive. Yet by the middle of the twentieth century, the General Theory had become unfashionable, scientifically speaking. Einstein’s greatest achievement was so monumental that it had to wait for the technology to be invented that was sophisticated and sensitive enough to fully vindicate General Relativity.

A similar case can be made for Finnegans Wake. Of course the Wake will never have the impact upon our view of the universe that General Relativity has achieved, but I do think that in many ways the Wake is a book so far ahead of its time that only with the arrival of the internet and hypertext has the world become sophisticated enough to stand any chance of understanding its densely complicated text. It doesn’t have a traditional narrative and is as much a twenty year Masters Degree in language, semiotics and comparative mythology as it is a novel. Much of the Wake is obscure beyond the point at which we will ever be able to decipher it. Yet there is as much in the Wake that is perfectly understandable, if you decode the right ciphers.

That decoding process begins with the opening page and with ‘riverrun,’. 

Get it done.