The Master's Voice


Joyce reading from the
Anna Livia Plurabelle section of
Finnegans Wake
Berenice Abbott 1929 photograph of Joyce

In August 1929, Joyce was in London to consult an ophthalmologist. While he was there, he met with his friend and admirer, C.K. Ogden, an authority on the influence of language upon thought and the founder of the Orthological Institute.  Ogden persuaded Joyce to come to the Institute to record the last pages of the Anna Livia chapter. The text had been prepared for Joyce in half-inch-high letters, but the lighting in the studio was so poor that he still could not read it easily. The recording was done nevertheless, with Joyce prompted in a whisper throughout.  To our knowledge this is the only recording of Joyce reading from the Wake
.


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Text 213.11 -- 215.11 below

PAGE 213
    Well, you know or don't you kennet or haven't I told you		 LINE
11
every telling has a taling and that's the he and the she of it. Look, 12
look, the dusk is growing! My branches lofty are taking root. 13
And my cold cher's gone ashley. Fieluhr? Filou! What age is at? 14
It saon is late. 'Tis endless now senne eye or erewone last saw 15
Waterhouse's clogh. They took it asunder, I hurd thum sigh. 16
When will they reassemble it? O, my back, my back, my bach! 17
I'd want to go to Aches-les-Pains. Pingpong! There's the Belle 18
for Sexaloitez! And Concepta de Send-us-pray! Pang! Wring out 19
the clothes! Wring in the dew! Godavari, vert the showers! And 20
grant thaya grace! Aman. Will we spread them here now? Ay, 21
we will. Flip ! Spread on your bank and I'll spread mine on mine. 22
Flep! It's what I'm doing. Spread ! It's churning chill. Der went is 23
rising. I'll lay a few stones on the hostel sheets. A man and his bride 24
embraced between them. Else I'd have sprinkled and folded them 25
only. And I'll tie my butcher's apron here. It's suety yet. The 26
strollers will pass it by. Six shifts, ten kerchiefs, nine to hold to 27
the fire and this for the code, the convent napkins,twelve, one 28
baby's shawl. Good mother Jossiph knows, she said. Whose 29
head? Mutter snores? Deataceas! Wharnow are alle her childer, 30
say? In kingdome gone or power to come or gloria be to them 31
farther? Allalivial, allalluvial! Some here, more no more, more 32
again lost alla stranger.   I've heard tell that same brooch of the 33
Shannons was married into a family in Spain. And all the Dun- 34
ders de Dunnes in Markland's Vineland beyond Brendan's herring 35
pool takes number nine in yangsee's hats. And one of Biddy's 36

PAGE 214
beads went bobbing till she rounded up lost histereve with a              		 LINE
1
marigold and a cobbler's candle in a side strain of a main drain 2
of a manzinahurries off Bachelor's Walk. But all that's left to the 3
last of the Meaghers in the loup of the years prefixed and between 4
is one kneebuckle and two hooks in the front. Do you tell me. 5
that now? I do in troth. Orara por Orbe and poor Las Animas! 6
Ussa, Ulla, we're umbas all! Mezha, didn't you hear it a deluge of 7
times, ufer and ufer, respund to spond? You deed, you deed! I 8
need, I need! It's that irrawaddyng I've stoke in my aars. It all 9
but husheth the lethest zswound. Oronoko ! What's your trouble? 10
Is that the great Finnleader himself in his joakimono on his statue 11
riding the high horse there forehengist? Father of Otters, it is 12
himself! Yonne there! Isset that? On Fallareen Common? You're 13
thinking of Astley's Amphitheayter where the bobby restrained 14
you making sugarstuck pouts to the ghostwhite horse of the 15
Peppers. Throw the cobwebs from your eyes, woman, and spread 16
your washing proper! It's well I know your sort of slop. Flap! 17
Ireland sober is Ireland stiff Lord help you, Maria, full of grease, 18
the load is with me! Your prayers. I sonht zo! Madammangut! 19
Were you lifting your elbow, tell us, glazy cheeks, in Conway's 20
Carrigacurra canteen? Was I what, hobbledyhips? Flop! Your 21
rere gait's creakorheuman bitts your butts disagrees. Amn't I 22
up since the damp dawn, marthared mary allacook, with Corri- 23
gan's pulse and varicoarse veins, my pramaxle smashed, Alice 24
Jane in decline and my oneeyed mongrel twice run over, soaking 25
and bleaching boiler rags, and sweating cold, a widow like me, 26
for to deck my tennis champion son, the laundryman with the 27
lavandier flannels? You won your limpopo limp fron the husky 28
hussars when Collars and Cuffs was heir to the town and your 29
slur gave the stink to Carlow. Holy Scamander, I sar it again! 30
Near the golden falls. Icis on us! Seints of light! Zezere! Subdue 31
your noise, you hamble creature! What is it but a blackburry 32
growth or the dwyergray ass them four old codgers owns. Are 33
you meanam Tarpey and Lyons and Gregory? I meyne now, 34
thank all, the four of them, and the roar of them, that draves 35
that stray in the mist and old Johnny MacDougal along with 36

PAGE 215
them. Is that the Poolbeg flasher beyant, pharphar, or a fireboat       		 LINE
1
coasting nyar the Kishtna or a glow I behold within a hedge or 2
my Garry come back from the Indes? Wait till the honeying of 3
the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in 4
your eye. We'll meet again, we'll part once more. The spot I'll 5
seek if the hour you'll find. My chart shines high where the blue 6
milk's upset. Forgivemequick, I'm going! Bubye! And you, 7
pluck your watch, forgetmenot. Your evenlode. So save to 8
jurna's end! My sights are swimming thicker on me by the sha- 9
dows to this place. I sow home slowly now by own way, moy- 10
valley way. Towy I too, rathmine. 11