Assigned reading (2/2 pars [] plus 146 notes) [secondary] [McH]
The first four lines on this page seem like Joyce-blowing-smoke (-about-Islam) while the FDV meaning is just that the mind 'writes its own runes'. This subject/verb pair makes sense : "the last camel... has still to moor". But the several "his"s (eyebrows/ cousin/ date) repeatedly confuse that camel with Mohammed himself...???
FW2: "But the hour, the smiting, the day of decision is not now."
← "But the horn, the drinking, the day of dread are not now." [FW1]
← "the Hour... the Smiting... the Day of Decision" [Lane-Poole]
I'd lean towards FW1 here, since JAJ-quoting-exactly is almost unknown.
FDV→FW2:
leave them in the slow of their oven →
leave them to terracook in the slowth of the muttheringpot
and the day of magnum charter →
and Gutenmorg with his cromagnom charter, tintingfast and great primer
we must one way dawn →
must once for omniboss step rubrickredd out of the wordpress
else there is no virtue more in alcohoran →
else is there no virtue more in alcohoran
(so, fermenting the alphabet leads to rebirth???)
Islam in FDV: 'alcohoran', 'A bone, a pebble, a ramskin' and 'every word will carry 3 score & ten readings'
[What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice And everything nice]
[Fly not yet] ♬ music
[...many miles to... Three score... by candlelight?]
"The movables... all of them... to
every little earywig tells a little bit of a torytale" the ptee parts doing duty for the whole alphabet
FDV: "A bone, a pebble, a ramskin: chip them, chop them, cut them allways: leave them in the slow of their oven: and the day of magnum charter we must one way dawn else there is no virtue more in alcohoran. For that is what paper is made of, made of, hides and hints and misses in prints. Till we finally (though not yet for all) meet with Mr Typ, Mrs Top and all the little typtoppies — Fillstop. So you need hardly tell me that every word will carry 3 score & ten readings through the book of life till Daleth, who opened it, closes the door. The movables are in motion march, all of them again in pitpat & zingzang to every little earywig tells a little bit of a torytale. Of a man and of a wife and of a pomme and a famme or of the youths that wanted gilding or of the maid that made a man."
[3:31-5:37]
I.1:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
But the hour, the smiting, the day of decision is not now.
ReplyDeleteA bone, a pebble, a ramskin;
chip them, chap them, cut them up allways;
leave them to terracook
in the slowth of the muttheringpot:
and Gutenmorg with his cromagnom charter,
tintingfast and great primer
must once for omniboss
step rubrickredd out of the wordpress
else is there no virtue more in alcohoran.
For that
(the rapt one warns)
is what papyr is meed of, made of,
hides and hints and misses in prints.
Till Ye finally
(though not yet endlike)
meet with the acquaintance
of Mister Typus, Mistress Tope
and all the little typtopies.
Fillstup.
So you need hardly spell me
how every word
will be bound over
to carry three score and ten toptypsical readings
throughout the book of Doublends Jined
(may his forehead be darkened with mud
who would sunder!)
till Daleth, mahomahouma, who oped it,
closeth thereof the.
Dor.
Cry not yet!
There's many a smile to Nondum,
with sytty maids per man, sir,
and the park's so dark by kindlelight.
But look what you have in your handself!
The movibles are scrawling in motions,
marching, all of them ago,
in pitpat and zingzang,
for every busy eerie whig's
a bit of a torytale to tell.
One's upon a thyme
and two's behind their lettice leaf
and three's among the strubbely beds.
And the chicks picked their teeths
and the dombkey he begay began.
You can ask your ass if he believes it.
And so cuddy me
only wallops have heels.
That one of a wife with folty barnets.
For then was the age when hoops ran high.
Of a noarch and a chopwife;
or of a pomme full grave
and a fammy of levity;
or of golden youths that wanted gelding;
or of what the mischievmiss made a man do.
Malmarriedad
he was reversogassed
by the frisque of her frasques
and her prytty pyrrhique.
Maye faye, she's la gaye, this snaky woman!
From that trippiery toe expectungpelick!
Veil volantine, valentine eyes.
She's the very besch
Winnie blows Nau on good.
Flou inn, flow ann.
Hohore!
So it's sure it was her not we!
"The movibles are scrawling in motions" (sounds like a bad acid trip)
Delete