I'm having a lovely day. 84 degrees with a gentle
wind. And I found Rejoyce by Anthony Burgess
at the thrift store for a measley ten cents. That's
right. You heard me. Ten centaroos. Nothing feels
better than finding a book you've been wanting for
awhile at a thrift store. A present from the universe.

Joyce the Sponger

James Joyce has been called literature's greatest
sponger. He was known for his ability to borrow money
with no intention of ever paying it back. He borrowed
from everyone: friends, enemies, students, supporters,
family (on the rare occasion that they had any money).

While I share Joyce's usual financial status (broke), I
cringe from borrowing money and usually resort to
selling books or other desperate measures. (this is
probably as good a place as any to mention that a
five dollar donation would allow me to get my last
$18.00 out of my Paypal account)

There were times when Joyce would have to use each
days earnings from teaching to pay for that night's
lodging. Nora and Georgio would sit in the park all day
until Joyce had the money in hand from that day's
student to pay the landlord for another night. Then
they'd all go to the room until the next morning when
the whole rigamarole would start up again.

When he had to go to the hospital, in severe pain with
the perforated duodenal ulcer which was to kill him, he hesitated over the necessary operation and
asked his son, "How will we pay for it?". Joyce was
rarely without money troubles .

Page 53 of Ellman’s biography of James Joyce
contains the following sentence: “Joyce sang
all in a sweet but rather weak tenor voice”. It
is not a quote from someone else, but Ellman’s
own words and I take issue with them.

Joyce was a fine singer. He did not have the
range of John McCormack, but that’s no justifica-
tion for calling his voice weak. Joyce won a bronze
medal at the 1904 Feis Ceol, a competition which
brought together tenors (and other singers) from
all over Ireland. The judge had planned on giving
Joyce the gold medal, but could not because Joyce
refused to participate in the sight singing portion
of the competition.

He was offered a scholarship with the greatly
respected voice teacher Benedetto Palmieri, who
offered to train Joyce for three years in exchange
for ten percent of his concert earnings. In a country
that produces talented tenors by the score, an offer
like that, in addition to Joyce’s Feis medal, indicate
that his voice stood out among others. There were -
and are - many weak tenors. James Joyce wasn’t
one of them.

Well I missed my post yesterday, damn
it. 17 year old son troubles. Which got
me thinking about Papa Joyce. I think
Nora handled most of the parenting duties
but Joyce was extremely attached to his
children. He was proud of Georgio’s
tenor voice. He thought Lucia had
inherited his genius, but that it had
gone awry for some reason with Lucia.
Here’s a letter he sent to her while she was
in the Nyon sanatorium. Later that year, after
setting fire to her room, she was transferred
to an asylum in Zurich and then to Karl Jung’s
clinic.

Dear Lucia: Mamma has dispatched to you
today some articles of clothing. As soon as
the list of what you want comes we will send
off the things immediately...

Mamma is chattering on the telephone with
the lady above who dances the one-step so
well and fished my note of a thousand lire
out of the lift. The subject of the conversation
between them is the lady on the fifth floor who
breeds dogs. These 'friends of man' hinder the
lady on the fourth floor from meditating like the
Buddha. Now they have finished with dogs and
are speaking of me.

I see great progress in your last letter but at the
same time there is a sad note which we do not
like. Why do you always sit at the window? No
doubt it makes a pretty picture but a girl walking
in the fields also makes a pretty picture. Write to
us oftener. And let's forget money troubles and
black thoughts. Ti abbraccio...

— James Joyce (1879-1940),
Letter to Lucia Joyce, 15 June 1934
(42, rue Galilée, Paris)

More on Lucia including pics here.

Here’s an interesting item from the May 2003
edition of the James Joyce Newestlatter:


A signed first edition of Ulysses sold for a record
$460,500 at Christie’s in New York in October
2002.

You too can receive the James Joyce Newestlatter
by becoming a member of the International James
Joyce Foundation. More info here.

More on James Joyce's literary habits. I found this
informative page on the James Joyce Portal. To see
how this thread began, go to the post for Aug. 17 .

Joyce liked these writers greatly:
Shakespeare, Aristotle, Dante, Homer, Ibsen,
Flaubert, Ben Jonson, Defoe, Chaucer, Yeats,
Wordsworth, Tolstoy, Jacobsen, D Annunzio,
Chekhov, Plutarch, Stendhal, Donne, Hans
Hans Christian Anderson, Hemingway.

He had mixed feelings about these authors:
Whitman, Maupassant, Kipling, Dostoevski, Eliot,
Shelley, Gide, London, Harte.

He disliked these writers:
Wagner, Synge, Hardy, Turgeniev, Balzac,
Thackeray, Thoreau, Browning, Tennyson, Goethe.

A Joycean day . Today I purchased the last
set of bricks for my labyrinth. Drove home with
300 pounds of bricks in the back of my Jeep.
Saturday I purchased 420 pounds of bricks and
100 pounds of sand. Friday I purchased 384
pounds of bricks and my first 100 pounds of sand.
What was the total number of bricks Kelly bought
for her labyrinth? 184 . Who knew bricks were so
heavy?

I’ve been attracted to labyrinths for a long time,
before I knew of their relation to Joyce. They
always seemed so much kinder than mazes. So
we’re building one in my backyard. I’ll post a photo
when I’m finished.

The other Joycean part of my day was when I did
the dishes. I put my daughter’s discman into my
itchy wool purse and put it over my shoulder. While
washing, I listened to the first in a series of lectures
by Joseph Campbell called “Wings of Art”. All about
James Joyce.... The first 45 minutes were spectacular.

Okay - Joyce and dogs. He didn’t like them. He was
afraid of them. He was bitten or nipped by one on
his chin when he was young. Here’s what Stannie
had to say about it:

“My brothers fear of dogs and his preference for
cats dates from the time when he was badly bitten
by an excited Irish Terrier, for which he and I were
throwing stones into the sea on the beach near the
sea-bathing establishment which is, or was, in the
middle of the Esplanade.”
(My Brother’s Keeper, pg. 4)

This is as good a place as any to mention that I am
the proud owner of an Irish terrier. Stannie doesn’t
mention what sort of Irish terrier bit James but I’m
pretty sure it was not the same kind of terrier I own
which is a Glen of Imaal Terrier. Glens hail from County
Wicklow. Farm dogs. I’d guess it was a Kerry Blue
that bit Joyce. I can definitely see a Kerry Blue getting
over excited while chasing rocks in the sea.

So my dog, my Glen of Imaal Terrier was born on June
16, 2002. His name is Nosey Flynn. You can see a photo
at the bottom of the sidebar.

A path on Howth Head and a view of the ocean. Wish I was there.

(Found this photo on Wunderground , the weather service)

James Joyce and I have a few things in common,
including the number of residences we have lived
in. The first time I read Ellman’s biography of
Joyce and learned how many houses he had lived
in I was amazed. Here’s a run down of his first 22
years:

1882 - Born at 41 Brighton Square West
1884 - 23 Castlewood Avenue
1887 - 1 Martello Terrace, Bray
1891 - Moved back to Dublin, address unknown
1892 - 23 Carysfort Avenue
1893 - “lodgings” address unknown
1893 - 14 Fitzgibbon Street
1894 - Millbourne Lane, outside Dublin
1894 - 17 North Richmond Street
1897 - 29 Windsor Avenue
1899 - Convent Avenue
1899 - 13 Richmond Avenue
1900 - 8 Royal Terrace
1901 - 32 Glengariff Parade
1902 - 7 Peters Terrace
1904 - Joyce takes a room at 60 Shelburne
Road
1904 - Lives with James & Gretta Cousins in
Ballsbridge
1904 - Back to Shelburne Road
1904 - Sept 9, Martello Tower, Sandycove
1904 - Sept 20, Moved in with Uncle William Murray
1904 - October 9, to Paris with Nora

Whew! 19 places in 22 years (not counting wherever
he stayed on his first trip to Paris).

Just home from a busy day and have to
leave for a meeting at the radio station
in 30 minutes, so here's something to
ponder until I can elaborate:

Joyce was afraid of two things: dogs
and lightening.

Every year on March 17th many of my good friends
get together for a party to which I am not invited.
It’s an annual St. Paddy’s Day dinner and reading
and it is unfortunately, prejudicially, ridiculously, for
men only.

So after a few years of such rubbish a few women
began to get together for our own version of the
same thing. A small dinner, then we each have to read
something. I came to the event unprepared. Luckily
our hostess had a copy of Ulysses on her shelf. So I
read one of my favorite passages from Ulysses, one
that I though especially appropriate to the group
gathered there:

“Ugly and futile: lean neck and thick hair and a stain
of ink, a snail’s bed. Yet someone had loved him, borne
him up in her arms and in her heart. But for her the
race of the world would have trampled him underfoot,
a squashed boneless snail. She had loved his weak
watery blood drained from her own. Was that then
real? The only true thing in life? ....” (23)

I recently found an article in the Guardian about Elisabeth
Costello. The article covered an upcoming ceremony to honor her
and ran a short excerpt from the book "Elizabeth Costello"
by JM Coetzee, to be published by Secker & Warburg
in September .

Elisabeth Costello was born in Australia in 1928. She
has written nine novels, two books of poems and a book
on birdlife. The article mentions that "Costello made her
name with her fourth novel, The House on Eccles Street
(1969), whose main character is Marion Bloom, wife of
Leopold Bloom, principal character of another novel,
Ulysses (1922), by James Joyce".

The book sounds fascinating. It is not listed on Amazon,
Bookfinder or Powells. Not in Google. I'm awfully inter-
ested in reading it though. Anybody out there know
where I could get a copy?

I viewed the trailer for the movie Bl , . m yesterday.
(Can’t help but cringe at that title. “Bloom” would
have been flawless. The comma/period seem both
presumptuous and distracting from the matter at
hand).

A long but worthwhile download can be found here.
This short preview seemed visually beautiful, dress
and scenery looked just right, as did the cast members
shown except for Stephen Rea who is near perfect
as Bloom (only near perfect because I suppose I should
see the whole movie before proclaiming absolute
perfection).

So what’s next? The website gives no date for release
in the US, or anywhere for that matter. No mention of
anything of that nature.

I am rereading Stanislaus Joyce’s book My Brother’s
Keeper and I loved this line:

“Much more than his reputation for being clever,
his good humor and gaiety made him a favorite with
his many sisters and relatives.” (59)

Some people think that Stannie should be taken with
a grain of salt because his memories of Joyce are
influenced by his jealousy of him. Whether that’s true
or not, I believe the above lines are true. It’s nice to
be reminded of that side of Joyce every once in a while.

Split Pea Press, located in Edinburgh Scotland, was
established in 1987. They have a number of inter-
esting publications including a poster which reproduces
the Evening Telegraph of June 16, 1904 (something I
plan to purchase on my next payday).

Here’s an excerpt from their website telling how they
came up with the idea for the poster:

“On Friday October 5, 1967, Timothy Finnegan (55), a
labourer of 5 Walkin Street, was working on the demolition
of a row of Dublin houses in Eccles Street to make way
for a new hospital extension when he discovered a cache
of old newspapers among the bricks and mortar. A lover
of the turf he decided to take them home to peruse the
old sports pages over a pipe while waiting for his supper.
Sadly he died the next day in an accident at work. It was
after an encounter with his son, Michael, in The Ship Tavern,
Lower Abbey Street, that Mr Ian Gunn, a visiting scholar
and gentleman from Scotland asked if he might see the
papers which the son had kept for sentimental reasons.
Gunn (72) of Edinburgh recognised immediately that among
this pile of papers was the original copy of the Evening
Telegraph for June 16, 1904, owned by one of Dublin's most
famous literary characters, Leopold Bloom.

On return to Scotland Mr Gunn showed the documents to
Mr Alistair McCleery (17) of the Split Pea Press in Edin-
burgh and together they decided on its immediate repro-
duction as a poster together with a guide to the refer-
ences to this newspaper in the account by James Joyce
in his Ulysses.”

Another Molly Song

In Old Madrid was written by G. Clifton Bingham and
Henri Trotère. In Old Madrid is a chipper love song that
Molly first sang in Gibraltar. She thinks of it on the night
of June 16th because it is so much more romantic than
the letters of Blazes Boylan. Featured most in Sirens
and Penelope.

The song begins:

Long years ago
In old Madrid
Where softly sighs of love the light guitar.
Two sparkling eyes
A lattice hid
Two eyes as darkly bright as love's own star

And Molly:

"... will i ever go back there again all new faces
two glancing eyes a lattive hid Ill sing that for
him they're my eyes if hes anything of a poet
two eyes as darkly bright as loves own star
aren't those beautiful words ..." (637)

You can find In Old Madrid on the album
Along the Road of Dreams; there is a sample of the song
at the Amazon page for this album.

It’s one of the most significant songs used in
Ulysses. It’s one of the songs Molly will be
singing in her upcoming concert, in the key of
G. Its words are by G. Clifton Bingham. Its
melody is by J.L. Molloy. The sheet music of this
song is placed on the piano at 7 Eccles Street,
open at the last page “with the final indications
ad libitum, forte, pedal, animato, sustained
pedal, ritirando, close.” (580)

Molly contemplates how she will render it as
she lay in bed in the last chapter of Ulysses
“...that train again weeping tone once in the
dear deaead days beyondre call close my eyes
breathe my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open
piano ere oer the world the mists began I hate
that istsbeg comes loves sweet sooooooooooong
Ill let that out full when I get in front of the
footlights again...” (627)

Its first lines are:

Once in the dear dead days beyond recall,
When o’er the world the mists began to fall...

Its chorus goes:

Just a song at twilight
When the lights are low
And the glimmering shadows
Softly come and go
Though the heart be weary
Sad the days and long
Still to us at twilight
Comes love’s old song
Comes Love’s Old Sweet Song.

Today is the first day of school for students here in
Chico and though I thoroughly enjoy my children, it’s
a blessing to have my days back.

I find myself thinking of Nora today; what a relief it
must have been to her to have the children go back
to the local school on Via Veronese where they weren't
the must studious of students, but had many friends.
No more trying to keep them occupied in the small
Trieste kitchen while Joyce had students in the front
room for English lessons.

And the mornings when Georgio and Lucia were in
school AND Jim was off writing at a cafe - maybe Il
Caffe Bizantino - well Nora must have surely set
aside a few moments to sit back in silence, taking
pleasure in the rare moment of quiet and solitude.

Tech note: Comments installed today thanks to
maystardesigns. Finally my site is up and pretty
near complete. Look for additions to the music
page soon. I want to extend a HUGE thank you
to May (of Maystardesigns - link in sidebar) who
put this site together and helped me switch over
all my old posts for a very reasonable fee. Not
only is she reasonable, she was also patient with
all 3542 questions I asked her. Thanks May!