tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6657229330840382051.post3689782133749240067..comments2024-02-28T08:40:20.134+00:00Comments on From Swerve of Shore to Bend of Bay: The last page of Finnegans WakePeter Chrisphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11206688095197843271noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6657229330840382051.post-22223307437987208452022-01-10T08:44:41.547+00:002022-01-10T08:44:41.547+00:00Happy new year
I have really enjoyed the analysis ...Happy new year<br />I have really enjoyed the analysis and literary references. Trouble is that such analysis will exclude most of the people of the world for whom the book was written. Doubtless it is an all too human effort of academics who attempt to drag the wake into conscious understanding..thereby destroying the magic.imo. It's what academics get paid for by the merchants of death. <br />Joyce writes for real people not just the booky ones.<br />So is there no way that value can be got from Finnegans Wake by reading and rereading e.g. along with Horgan...excellent ....this allows the magic of the language and unlanguage to speak directly to the inner human beyond language and meaning to let us bypass the tedious horrors of daily life thereby allowing escape into the infinite and beyond where they should be. There must be some kinda way outa here said the joker to the etc.<br />Thus freed one might indeed come back down and entertain some of the dead and deadly literary allusions which would be a great hobby ... better than TV anyway...just about.<br /> <br />cathalbuihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08721482302091048002noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6657229330840382051.post-33567392470146926902022-01-01T13:42:55.291+00:002022-01-01T13:42:55.291+00:00PC - Happy new year! I have no wish to complicate ...PC - Happy new year! I have no wish to complicate comments here, but would be pleased if you would augment or replace my last 2 sentences as: What might be called a first gift in the collective leaves of the Liffey (relived/relieved/releaved every night) leads to a second gift, "mememormee", via the kiss/keys(kees)/buss of the portal lips. Yes, the cause of death is birth but this is not a linear fate, but one of a "yes tid" where life and death like night and day are primordially caught up in the other in a sort of tide-time, each knotted to the other -- Kevin's "sacrament of baptism or the regeneration of man by water". Thanks!Cameron McEwenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17091619712188528182noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6657229330840382051.post-28783809159140925602021-12-30T22:24:27.108+00:002021-12-30T22:24:27.108+00:00What might be called a first gift in the collectiv...What might be called a first gift in the collective leaves of the Liffey (relived/relieved every night)...Cameron McEwenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17091619712188528182noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6657229330840382051.post-56731652814623419362021-12-30T15:08:42.904+00:002021-12-30T15:08:42.904+00:00The take here, or rather takes, seem strangely una...The take here, or rather takes, seem strangely unambiguated. For is this page only Budgen's "contemplation of the mystery of death"? Or is it not decidedly also "contemplation of the mystery of birth"? Where ALP as the soul must pass away from all the collective possibilities of life, hence all the events of world history that express those possibilities, into the light of day as a particular individual. "And the clash of our cries till we spring to be free (...) I am passing out (...) till the near sight of the mere size of him, the moyles and moyles of it, moananoaning, makes me seasilt saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms. I see them rising! Save me from those therrble prongs! Two more. Onetwo moremens more (...) Carry me along (...) to washup. Yes, tid. There's where. First. We pass through grass behush the bush to. Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussofthlee, mememormee! Till thousendsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a lost a last a loved a long the..." Is this not the way of the birth canal where a familiar warmth in collective life (or Liffey) must be left behind for a cold individuality: "My leaves have drifted from me. All. But one clings still. I'll bear it on me. To remind me of. Lff!" What might be called a first gift in the collective leaves of the Liffey leads to a second gift, "mememormee", via the kiss/keys(kees)/buss of the portal lips. Yes, the cause of death is birth but this is not a linear fate, but one of a "yes tid" where life and death are primordially caught up in the other in a sort of tide-time, each knotted to the other -- Kevin's "sacrament of baptism or the regeneration of man by water".Cameron McEwenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17091619712188528182noreply@blogger.com