March 4th Gathering

FW 204.16 - 208.26

Hosty shifted identity this session to Michael Arklow in a lemon-soap coloured cottage.
Present: Mr GR Google, Mr GT Tahini, The Two Chirsines, Bronze and Gold (SW and HC), myself Mitzi and Usual-Hosty, GC Yerac. El Monty sends apologies.

This session continues from mid-page 204. Two separate voice memo recordings were made, and may prove useful eventually. The theme for this session emerges from the phrase: "Are you in the swim or are you out?"

Being 'in the know' or 'in the loop' is a recurring motif in The Washerwomen's chapter (I, 8). As ever, we try to figure out who is saying what to whom.

In order of appearance, let us say the first washerwoman to speak is called W1: she demands to know "all about Anna Livia". The respondent is W2. Perhaps the challenge, 'are you in the swim', is W1 questioning whether W2 is really reporting the truth, or mere hearsay? Then again, W2 often playfully bullies W1, and so may be uttering the phrase defensively...although of course W1 is 'out of the swim' from the beginning, as she is the one seeking answers.On 204, she uses water verbs for 'tell me', which are: "drip me" and "trickle me"...she is drip-fed information, but not averse to being 'tricked'.

There are discussions of Anna Livia's hair, possibly sparked by some wimples and head-dresses in the laundry pile. As they smell, W1 calls W2 'snouty', as she prepares to wash the handkerchiefs of St Veronica (famous for wiping the brow of Christ with a cloth, on which the dude's face remained as a ghostly imprint). So for those believers attached to the story of Veronica, this hilarious phrase of the 'greasy jub' of washing the Veronica's 'wipers' is a tad blasphemous.

River names continue, and a fish theme jumps out - parr is a salmon, and findhorn is smoked haddock. The Scottish-themed paragraph which mentions 'aird' also gives a number of names of Quays on the Liffey.

We are interested in eau de Colo: obviously a pun on the perfume, it suggests 'water from the bottom' (cul, Fr.) and also the Colo river here in Australia (also down-under.)

G Tahini sang some obscene songs about Mrs MacGrath who is mentioned on 204, and GR Google confirmed the origins of the old songs. Naturally, the songs relate to undergarments. These are continued on 205 ("the leg of her drawers"), a reference to the lewd song we remember from Circe.

As we sail further down the path of this marvelous chapter, we attempt to picture the scale of the scene: are the ladies beside each other on the river bank? Are they calling to each other across the river, also across the sea between Northern Ireland and Scotland? And do they row across in a boat at one point? ("If you don't like my story, get out of the punt." 205)

A moment to consider "catchment ring" and "knees'dontelleries": 205.1 - 2. There' something obviously genital about the first image: perhaps this refers to an easy birth ('freed them easy')? Or, if it's sex, it makes sense that these 'hurrahs' are secrets (ie: don't telleries.) Yet the dontelleries are also teeth (Fr.). Or they are secretive births: nees (Fr.).

The 'exhibitioners' are scholarship boys from Belvedere College. 'Nubilee' is a mix of young and older: nubile + jubilee.

The 'nubilee letters' have an 'exe' on them. They could be The Letter or they could be a garment embroidered with 'scarlet thread': recall the red A of the Scarlet Letter - for Anna. I referred to an earlier version of The Letter which has "four cross kisses" written as a sign off. Although this section is more about accusations of adultery, with one W calling the other Kinsella's Lillith': Lillith we know (Adam's girlfriend before Eve, branded forever after in feminist theatre (rightly so) and theory as the victim of misogynist cruelty and ignorance - Lillith, the lady who won't conform to the Madonna-Whore paradigm.)

The urging of W1 to W2 to keep narrating her stories returns mid-205, with Beckettian echoes: "Garonne, Garonne" - stop, go on ...


Here W2 refers to the continuing media speculation on HCE by explaining how he was written about in a weekly magazine, 'Wakeschrift', and how much he is reviled as a result: even the snow that snowed on his dirty old (hoaring) head is disgusted by him ('had a skunner against him'.) This Dublin slang changes slightly, as Glasgow for 'skunner' is to be drunk: so perhaps everyone is drunk on the story of HCE, as well as disgusted? It's certainly very compelling.

W2 goes on to say that everywhere you went: city, suburb and 'addled areas' ('adult areas', we thought), you could find cartoons of HCE - 'hsi ikom sketched upside down' ... 'tipside down'... is this because he fell?

Other tauntings of HCE include burning effigies ('guy' as in Fawkes), mocking ('cammocking') and a dance with music ('Morris' and 'pipes'); the effigy (or the actual?) wears a triple-tiara, it may be the Pope's hat; the headgear is 'rotundarinking' his scalp: and M Arklow tells us there was an ice rink in the rotunda (of Dublin?).

205 closes with a refrain from recurring motif 'this is the house that Jack built.'

HC Chirsine successfully identified 'aeropage', a reference to Milton's speech in defense of freedom of expression. In this context of 206.1-2, there's a crowd and music, and their right to free speech is yet more anti-HCE rabble-rousing by 'the mauldrin rabble'. Their noise assisted by timpanies (timpan) and ancient violins (crowd, also masses of people making noise!)

ALP wants to get revenge on these aggressive folk: she will be 'level' with them (as only a river can, by overcoming 'snags'.) Or maybe she has some other mischief in store?

She will 'frame a plan to fake as shine', as the theme of fraud and duplicity re-emerges. She borrows a mail-sack (zakbag) from Shaun the Post, named as one of her 'swapsons': Here, a pause for discussion. Is he a step-son, (swapped from another mother) or simply a twin son (swapped/interchanged with his twin Shem?)

ALP dresses up for a masked ball: she made herself 'tidal'. The hilariously outraged W2 and W1 are quite poetic in their reactions. W1 wants to hear 'aviary word' about the story of our hen-woman; W2 helps balance the boat (punt); and they pause for a wee break (to wee.)

M Arklow read the paragraph 206.29 beautifully; a most poetic and grand description of ALP in true river form and also boat form ('the groove of her keel') - washing, and preening, jewelery and makeup - the works. Yet for all her glamorous beauty as a Russian ballerina (Pufflovah), she seems to be disguised as a man - she ends up bearded - 'oysterface'. She is disguising herself as Shaun the Post (possibly) or disguising herself as HCE...references to women in trousers with a hint of Calamity Jane ('Call her calamity electrifies man'.) In her changeable appearance, she is a bit of an Alice (as in Wonderland, as in 'liddel oddity').

The other aspect of her disguise could be blackface or some kind of darkening colour: W1 questions whether she is 'whole lady fair' or 'duodecimoroon' (racist old terminology for fraction of race) and when she creeps out of her igloo/tipi, she is a 'bushman woman'.

The gender-bent Anna is more pronounced on page 208, in which her clothing is detailed, with boy's and men's garments as well as women's. There is some suggestion that the river-figure and woman-man figure has become a ship ('stout stays...lined her length').

This session as always kept us guessing, but yielded plenty of diverting and outrageous detail for fun and astoundment.

February 5th Gathering

FW 198.29 - 204.21

This month's meeting saw an assistant Finnster in attendance, which was immensely helpful as we had a lot of washing to get through. To aid in working down the laundry pile, the group welcomed the long awaited Forest T. Clearing. Unfortunately the spectacular weather detained Bronze and Gold on the northern reaches, and a suggestion to travel either north or east one month in the future was mooted. Also present were Hosty, Garlicky Tahini, Mr GR Googly, the Jolly Medical Arklow and myself, Mitzy ("Speak, sweety bird! Mitzymitzy!" 225.20).

After reading aloud and demystifying some pages, we decided the theme today was about passageways, gaps and generally unfilled spaces. I'd like to quote from Rocky, the monosyllabic prize-fighter who got together with the vulnerable, sweet Adrien, saying "we got gaps". The notion of mutual emotional fulfilment, not to say physical fulfilment, is tangential to the raucous gossiple of the washerwomen, which continues here.

"she bogans without a band on" 198.25 there seem to be references to a woman (Molly by the window/ALP) pretending to play violin, ('pretending to ribble a derg on a fiddle") but the result is a sort of joyous dance. Though she can't play at all, insists Washerwoman 1. The "bogan" originates from hiberno-English, according to G Tahini, referring to an egg without a fully-formed shell. The origin of the Australian version of the word was professed unknown.

Here comes some leviathan imagery, as "grampus" is a whale, and one that tears at his sores ("tares at his thor") or tears (a weepy whale, sad and "glommen".) Could this be in response to ALP's gay dancing? Some geography is pointed out, and the Giant's Causeway (north of Ireland) is playfully conflated with Grafton Street, Dublin. We are informed that Fingal's Cave is at the Scottish end of the causeway.

HCE is sad and won't eat. Sitting sombre on his seat ('sambre on his sett'), he reads the deaths in that morning's Times. He perhaps snores with his mouth open from 12 to 4 ('his swallower open from swolf to fore') as those little birds clean his teeth (like those little birds who sit in the mouth of a crocodile, pecking out uneaten bits.) 
Anna Livia is shown fussing over her 'dear dubber Dan', which you would for someone who had 'been belching for severn years' - but no matter what food she brings him, he 'kast them frome him'. This is strange, considering the tasty offerings that one day hopefully will be served at the Finnegans Wake Cafe:

menu: blooms of fisk, meddery eygs, staynish beacons on toasc, cupenhave of Greenalnd's tay, dzoupgan of Kaffue mokau an sable, ale of ferns, shinkobread.

ANP offers to sing to soothe HCE: to 'vistule a hymn'. Her singing is so moving that it would 'cut you in two' (or perhaps make you bend over double with laughter?) Is she a good or bad singer, when it's said 'she could bate the hen that crowed on the turrace of Babel'? Maybe this means she was louder, considering the volume of noise emitted from Babel. Still, there is no reaction from HCE, 'not a mag out of him'.

Sentence from 199.33 - 200.3 is fabulous: it describes ALP as an aristocrat in a wonderful outfit riding out in a coach and incredibly costly clothes.

Washerwoman 2 (W2) refuses to believe this portrait of a wealthy Anna, and says 'blatherskite' (liar!), they are as poor as patches (Theirs porpor patches!)

ALP keeps singing to HCE, using compositions by well-known composers including Gluck.HCE as Humphrey ('umvolosy') does not respond, he is ill ('Bheri-Bheri') and 'deaf as a yawn'.

Now things start to get a little saucy and suggestive: ALP will do anything to wake up Humphrey, even excite his interest in life with help from passing servant girls or farm girls. The deal on offer is quite explicitly put ('Blockbeddum here!' - block is slang for the f-word.) ALP is now depicted as a 'cackling' madam who is earning money off her comatose husband. Or else, she is paying a 'silver shiner' to any woman who can get things happening in 'Humphrey's apron'.

W2 remains curious. She wants to know about Anna's 'rima' - at first I thought this was one of ANP's songs mentioned on page 200. Though when W1 starts reading out a letter (the content sounds like a diary entry), you realise W2 knows her friend has a copy of The Letter.

In the italics, W1 reads out the contents, in which: ALP wishes a bigger bottom (river bank)! She says she has worn hers away waiting for old Dane to wake up from hibernation ('his winter's doze') and perform his conjugal duty. She then slyly wonders if she could do some sewing and chores for a manly aristocrat to earn a little money. A final thought has her deciding to stay in her snug bed, though she'd rather be on the beach.

As discussion unfolds on page 201, there's the question of how many kids (aleveens: little fish) ALP had. The number 111 is repeated in various forms (Swahili and Hebrew.) So many kids, that she can't remember their names, but 'they did well to rechristen her Pluhurabelle.'

W2 reckons she will have even more. W1 wants to know about the younger ALP and her many lovers. ALP is shown as an active, seductive lover ('casting her perils before our swains') but also as the river who coasts along, by chance met by the males who enter her...'she sid herself she hardly knew whuon on the annals her graveller was'.

Then there is a beautiful passage about the 'young, thing, pale, shy, slim, slip of a thing' - Liffey as the dainty stream. It's a 'Curraghman' (man from Cork?) who gave her 'the tigris eye'. Now Anna Livia is truly the Liffey, as her course is described at the beginning of page 203. W1 isn't satisfied with the story of the Curraghman, she wants to know the very first man who saw and drank from the Liffey. So W2 tells the story of Michael Arklow, a hermit who breaks his vow of chastity with ALP. 'He had to forget the monk int he man' as he put his hands in her hair.

The final moments of our reading session end with the Liffey diverting through a gap, escaping: 'she sideslipped out of a gap in Devils glen' and then wriggles happily in some muddy pools - Dublin, black pool - and blushing hawthorns 'look askance upon her'. Our impression was not so much askance as awe-struck by the twists and turns of the little Liffey and her later exploits. The descriptions are suggestive and saucy, but the freedom of the river, and its energy, seems also to be a source of envy as well as scandal for the washerwomen.