James Joyce’s Ulysses
Chapter 3 - Proteus
A Comic Book Script by Jason P. Preu
Author’s Note:
There is no perfect way to adapt Ulysses from one medium to another. Word or scenes are left out or rearranged, shifting the emphasis. Those of us who attempt this task know what we are getting into. Nevertheless, the process is tedious, the frustration paramount, and Joyce’s legacy hovers over the adaptor like a parent nagging, “It’ll never be good enough. Why don’t you do something productive?” To which I can only respond: This is important. The comix medium is probably second only the World Wide Web in being able to fully accommodate the scope of Joyce’s work. Had I my druthers, this script would be for an internet comic, complete with streaming audio, video, hyperlinks, and the like. I may keep that in mind for future drafts. For now, we’re imagining the script below as it would appear in a standard-issue, 24-page comic book, displayed upon your local supermarket’s magazine turnstile.
Bear in mind a few items while reading this script. I use the descriptors “thought”, “multi-thought”, and other “thought” variations to give the artist an idea of a) what type of speech bubble s/he should use, and; b) how those bubbles should be connected, if at all. So that “thought” is a single thought bubble, “multi-thought” is a series of connected single thoughts, and any other “thoughts” will be explained as they occur (as they occur less frequently).
Any text in quotes is taken directly from Ulysses. Most often these quotes are used for panel/scene descriptions and the language is so rich, why bother to water it down? Ultimately, my hope is to enhance an already great piece of work by moving it into another language, the language of comix.
I did want to do a compendium of panel-by-panel annotations but this seemed unreasonable as such a compendium would in all likelihood double the length of this manuscript.
Finally, all thanks to Harry Blamires’s The New Bloomsday Book and Don Gifford and Robert Seidman’s Ulysses Annotated for providing insights to the myriad allusions in this work.
General Notes:
Color: Green and all its variations
Symbol: Tide and its movements
Art: Philology - the study of human speech especially as the vehicle of literature and as a field of study that sheds light on cultural history
Layout: Standard 3x3, 9-panel page, with variation
Stephen’s thoughts in this chapter (and there are many) don’t necessarily have to be restrained to their bubbles or even their designated panels. I’ve stuck to scripting it this way so as to give some indication as to what thoughts I think might match with some of the imagery, but the thoughts should flow like water over the panels, over the page. The panels themselves don’t even need to necessarily be demarked as such. Additionally, the line work for this chapter should be very fluid – manipulate proportions at will.
Given the confusion this chapter presents to first-time readers of the novel, I fully expect any criticism regarding the same. The thoughts, images, and connections come fast and furious in this script, as they do in Joyce’s text, and re-readings of the artwork should prove as rewarding as are re-readings of the text.
Lastly, we will not see Stephen’s face until the final panel of the book.
1.1 – The beach. Water on the left. Sand on the right. POV is Stephen’s. In his line of sight: “seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot.”
CPX (Location):
SANDYMOUNT STRAND. 11:00 AM.
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE VISIBLE: AT LEAST THAT IF NO MORE, THOUGHT THROUGH MY EYES. SIGNATURES OF ALL THINGS I AM HERE TO READ, SEASPAWN AND SEAWRACK, THE NEARING TIDE, THAT RUSTY BOOT. SNOTGREEN, BLUESILVER, RUST: COLOURED SIGNS. LIMITS OF THE DIAPHANE.
1.2 – The shot is the same, almost. We’ve pulled back and we see the same scene as panel one, reflected in Stephen’s eye. Perhaps a silhouette of Aristotle in the sky.
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
BUT HE ADDS: IN BODIES. THEN HE WAS AWARE OF THEM
BODIES BEFORE OF THEM COLOURED. HOW? BY KNOCKING HIS
SCONCE AGAINST THEM, SURE. GO EASY. BALD HE WAS AND A
MILLIONAIRE, MAESTRO DI COLOR CHE SANNO.
1.3 – Panel, split horizontally. Top-most panel –
Point of view is Stephen looking out. Scene same as above.
Aristotle has broken into clouds.
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
LIMIT OF THE DIAPHANE IN. WHY IN? DIAPHANE, ADIAPHANE.
IF YOU CAN PUT YOUR FIVE FINGERS THROUGH IT IT IS A
GATE, IF NOT A DOOR.
1.4 - Bottom most panel – Stephen’s eye closing on the
beach scene.
STEPHEN (Thought):
1.5 – Black.
SFX:
CRUSH!
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
YOU ARE WALKING THROUGH IT HOWSOMEVER. I AM, A STRIDE AT A TIME. A VERY SHORT SPACE OF TIME THROUGH VERY SHORT TIMES OF SPACE. FIVE, SIX: THE NACHEINANDER. EXACTLY: AND THAT IS THE INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE AUDIBLE.
1.6 – Top-most. Split horizontally with 1.7. A small crack of white light breaks horizontally, brightest in the middle, fading towards the edges of the panel. Stephen’s P.O.V. He almost opens his eyes.
SFX:
CRA
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
OPEN YOUR EYES. NO. JESUS!
1.7 – Bottom-most. Darkness again, residual afterburn images, in a line across the middle of the panel.
SFX:
CK!
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
IF I FELL OVER A CLIFF THAT BEETLES O'ER HIS BASE, FELL THROUGH THE NEBENEINANDER INELUCTABLY! I AM GETTING ON NICELY IN THE DARK. MY ASH SWORD HANGS AT MY SIDE. TAP WITH IT: THEY DO. MY TWO FEET IN HIS BOOTS ARE AT THE ENDS OF HIS LEGS, NEBENEINANDER. SOUNDS SOLID: MADE BY THE MALLET OF LOS DEMIURGOS. AM I WALKING INTO ETERNITY ALONG SANDYMOUNT STRAND?
1.8 – Dark, but with shades of images. We’re trying to see music in this panel. Perhaps the words of the song take the shape of a horse – a horse cut into lines?
SFX:
WRACK!
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
CRUSH, CRACK, CRICK, CRICK. WILD SEA MONEY. DOMINIE DEASY KENS THEM ALL. (Singing to himself) WON'T YOU COME TO SANDYMOUNT, MADELINE THE MARE? RHYTHM BEGINS, YOU SEE. I HEAR. ACATALECTIC TETRAMETER OF IAMBS MARCHING. NO, AGALLOP: DELINE THE MARE.
1.9 – This panel and 1.10 traverse the horizontal length of the page. The split panels on this page have migrated, like the tide, from the right to the middle and now the split panels have hit the shore, so to speak. This topmost panel is from Stephen’s P.O.V. His eyes are opening back up and in so doing, he creates the world.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
OPEN YOUR EYES NOW. I WILL. ONE MOMENT. HAS ALL VANISHED SINCE? IF I OPEN AND AM FOR EVER IN THE BLACK ADIAPHANE. BASTA! I WILL SEE IF I CAN SEE.
1.10 – Bottom-most. The world created anew. Stephen, as we’ll see next panel, sees two midwives coming down a set of stairs. The last lines of this page are “world without end.” I’d like to blend this image with that thought. The panel should be slightly out of focus and we, as Stephen, see infinite legs coming down infinite stairs.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SEE NOW. THERE ALL THE TIME WITHOUT YOU: AND EVER SHALL BE, WORLD WITHOUT END.
2.1 – This is the same scene/picture as 1.10, this time in focus. There are two sets of legs, two sets of arms.
STEPHEN (Thought):
FRAUENZIMMER.
2.2 – The two midwives, stand on the beach, feet in sand. One midwife, Mrs. Florence MacCabe, carries in her hand a midwife’s bag. The other midwife sticks a large, bulky umbrella into the sand.
SFX (umbrella in sand):
SFFFT.
LIKE ME, LIKE ALGY, COMING DOWN TO OUR MIGHTY MOTHER. FROM THE LIBERTIES, OUT FOR THE DAY. MRS FLORENCE MACCABE, RELICT OF THE LATE PATK MACCABE, DEEPLY LAMENTED, OF BRIDE STREET.
2.3 – Stephen’s P.O.V. Focus in on the midwife’s handbag.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
ONE OF HER SISTERHOOD LUGGED ME SQUEALING INTO LIFE. CREATION FROM NOTHING. WHAT HAS SHE IN THE BAG?
2.4 – This panel is the first in a series including 2.5 and 2.6 that will connect what Stephen imagines to be in the bag with the following panels. The image is a cross-section of the midwife’s bag. In the cross section is a misbirth. The misbirth’s navel cord snakes up, out of the bag. It follows part of the bag’s handle and continues on to the next panel.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A MISBIRTH WITH A TRAILING NAVELCORD, HUSHED IN RUDDY WOOL.
2.5 - The navel cord from 2.4 connects here with a tightly coiled string of humans, all connected by the navel cord. At panel’s end, the navel cord continues into 2.6.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
THE CORDS OF ALL LINK BACK, STRANDENTWINING CABLE OF ALL FLESH. THAT IS WHY MYSTIC MONKS. WILL YOU BE AS GODS? GAZE IN YOUR OMPHALOS.
2.6 – The navel cord coil turns into a phone cord coil. The image is from Stephen’s P.O.V. as he speaks into a phone.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
HELLO! KINCH HERE. PUT ME ON TO EDENVILLE. ALEPH, ALPHA: NOUGHT, NOUGHT, ONE.
2.7 – We see a naked woman.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
SPOUSE AND HELPMATE OF ADAM KADMON: HEVA, NAKED EVE. SHE HAD NO NAVEL. GAZE.
2.8 – Zoom in on her belly. There is no belly button.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
BELLY WITHOUT BLEMISH, BULGING BIG, A BUCKLER OF TAUT VELLUM, NO, WHITEHEAPED CORN, ORIENT AND IMMORTAL, STANDING FROM EVERLASTING TO EVERLASTING.
2.9 – In Eve’s belly, we see portrayed the tragedy of the mortality: war, famine, poverty, disease.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WOMB OF SIN.
3.1 – We are now inside of Stephen’s mother’s belly. We see Stephen in the womb, surly, fetal cuss that he is.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WOMBED IN SIN DARKNESS I WAS TOO, MADE NOT BEGOTTEN. BY THEM, THE MAN WITH MY VOICE AND MY EYES AND A GHOSTWOMAN WITH ASHES ON HER BREATH.
3.2 – Stephen’s mum and Simon, Stephen’s father, doing the dirty dirty.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THEY CLASPED AND SUNDERED, DID THE COUPLER'S WILL.
3.3 – Again with the tidal panels. This is the topmost. This panel is the “God” part of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, God reaching down to touch –
STEPHEN (Thought):
FROM BEFORE THE AGES HE WILLED ME AND NOW MAY NOT WILL ME AWAY OR EVER.
3.4 – -to touch Mr. and Mrs. Dedalus as they couple.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A LEX ETERNAL STAYS ABOUT HIM. IS THAT THEN THE DIVINE SUBSTANCE WHEREIN FATHER AND SON ARE CONSUBSTANTIAL?
3.5 – We see Arius, ostensibly on the pot, about to shit himself to death in a public, Greek toilet.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WHERE IS POOR DEAR ARIUS TO TRY CONCLUSIONS? WARRING HIS LIFE LONG UPON THE CONTRANSMAGNIFICANDJEWBANGTANTIALITY.
3.6 – Topmost. Arius on the toilet. Dying. We get closer to his face.
STEPHEN (Thought):
ILLSTARRED HERESIARCH' IN A GREEK WATERCLOSET HE BREATHED HIS LAST: EUTHANASIA.
3.7 – Bottommost. Arius on the toilet. Dead. Extreme close-up on Arius’s dead face. His pupil looks like the top-down view of a head with hair whipping in the wind.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WITH BEADED MITRE AND WITH CROZIER, STALLED UPON HIS THRONE, WIDOWER OF A WIDOWED SEE, WITH UPSTIFFED OMOPHORION, WITH CLOTTED HINDERPARTS.
3.8 – Top-down view of Stephen on the strand. The air whips his hair and nips his ears.
3.9 – The tide has reached the end of this page. Topmost. Stephen’s P.O.V. Looking out onto the ocean waves. They crest and look like white-maned horses.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THEY ARE COMING, WAVES. THE WHITEMANED SEAHORSES, CHAMPING, BRIGHTWINDBRIDLED, THE STEEDS OF MANANAAN.
3.10 – Bottommost. Cross-section of Stephen’s coat pocket. Inside the pocket is a folded up piece of paper and a bit of cash.
STEPHEN (Thought):
I MUSTN'T FORGET HIS LETTER FOR THE PRESS. AND AFTER? THE SHIP, HALF TWELVE. BY THE WAY GO EASY WITH THAT MONEY LIKE A GOOD YOUNG IMBECILE. YES, I MUST.
4.1 – Stephen’s feet. He’s quickly walking.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HERE. AM I GOING TO AUNT SARA’S OR NOT?
4.2 – Full frontal view Simon Dedalus, torso-up. He’s got a bitter, sarcastic look about him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
MY CONSUBSTANTIAL FATHER'S VOICE.
SIMON:
DID YOU SEE ANYTHING OF YOUR ARTIST BROTHER STEPHEN LATELY? NO? SURE HE'S NOT DOWN IN STRASBURG TERRACE WITH HIS AUNT SALLY? COULDN'T HE FLY A BIT HIGHER THAN THAT, EH? AND AND AND AND TELL US, STEPHEN, HOW IS UNCLE SI?
4.3 – This panel is divided into sixths. Each shows Simon Dedalus’s face, in a different mode of mocking/sarcasm.
SIMON:
O, WEEPING GOD, THE THINGS I MARRIED INTO!
SIMON:
DE BOYS UP IN DE HAYLOFT. THE DRUNKEN LITTLE COSTDRAWER AND HIS BROTHER, THE CORNET PLAYER.
SIMON:
HIGHLY RESPECTABLE GONDOLIERS!
SIMON:
AND SKEWEYED WALTER SIRRING HIS FATHER, NO LESS!
SIMON:
SIR. YES, SIR. NO, SIR.
SIMON:
JESUS WEPT: AND NO WONDER, BY CHRIST!
4.4 – We are behind Stephen as he stands in front of Aunt Sara’s cottage. The shutters are drawn but we can see something peaking out from behind one of them.
STEPHEN (Thought):
I PULL THE WHEEZY BELL OF THEIR SHUTTERED COTTAGE: AND WAIT. THEY TAKE ME FOR A DUN, PEER OUT FROM A COIGN OF VANTAGE.
4.5 – Close-up on face peaking through drawn shutters.
WALTER:
—IT'S STEPHEN, SIR.
RICHIE:
—LET HIM IN. LET STEPHEN IN.
4.6 – Top-most. Close up of Walter unlocking the door.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A BOLT DRAWN BACK AND WALTER WELCOMES ME.
4.7 – Bottom-most. Stephen’s POV. Walter, with a twist of a smile.
WALTER:
—WE THOUGHT YOU WERE SOMEONE ELSE.
4.8 – Takes up the rest of the page. Stephen’s POV from bedroom door, Richie in bed.
STEPHEN (Thought):
IN HIS BROAD BED NUNCLE RICHIE, PILLOWED AND BLANKETED, EXTENDS OVER THE HILLOCK OF HIS KNEES A STURDY FOREARM. CLEANCHESTED. HE HAS WASHED THE
UPPER MOIETY.
RICHIE:
—MORROW, NEPHEW. SIT DOWN AND TAKE A WALK.
5.1 – Richie in bed per Stephen’s description in his thoughts below. And yes, he’s whistling.
HE LAYS ASIDE THE LAPBOARD WHEREON HE DRAFTS HIS BILLS OF COSTS FOR THE EYES OF MASTER GOFF AND MASTER SHAPLAND TANDY, FILING CONSENTS AND COMMON SEARCHES AND A WRIT OF DUCES TECUM. A BOGOAK FRAME OVER HIS BALD HEAD: WILDE'S REQUIESCAT. THE DRONE OF HIS MISLEADING WHISTLE BRINGS WALTER BACK.
5.2 – Walter peeking his funky head into the doorway.
WALTER:
—YES, SIR?
RICHIE (Off-panel):
—MALT FOR RICHIE AND STEPHEN, TELL MOTHER. WHERE IS SHE?
WALTER:
—BATHING CRISSIE, SIR.
STEPHEN (Thought):
PAPA'S LITTLE BEDPAL. LUMP OF LOVE.
5.3 – Stephen’s POV. Looking down on Richie in bed.
STEPHEN:
RICHIE:
—CALL ME RICHIE. DAMN YOUR LITHIA WATER. IT LOWERS. WHUSKY!
STEPHEN:
—UNCLE RICHIE, REALLY ....
RICHIE:
—SIT DOWN OR BY THE LAW HARRY I'LL KNOCK YOU DOWN.
5.4 – Back at the doorway with Walter. He’s a squinty little bugger.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WALTER SQUINTS VAINLY FOR A CHAIR.
WALTER:
—HE HAS NOTHING TO SIT DOWN ON, SIR.
RICHIE (Off-panel):
—HE HAS NOWHERE TO PUT IT, YOU MUG. BRING IN OUR CHIPPENDALE CHAIR.
5.5 – Back to Richie in bed, Stephen’s POV.
RICHIE:
WOULD YOU LIKE A BITE OF SOMETHING? NONE OF YOUR DAMNED LAWDEEDAW AIRS HERE. THE RICH OF A RASHER FRIED WITH A HERRING? SURE? SO MUCH THE BETTER. WE HAVE NOTHING IN THE HOUSE BUT BACKACHE PILLS.
5.6 – Stephen’s POV. Richie, in bed, getting his opera on.
RICHIE(Singing):
5.7 – Still Richie in bed, singing. The difference here is that first we show Stephen’s thought. Then, Richie’s words should be shown as Stephen’s thoughts. Richie’s mouth open, as though he’s speaking, but use Stephen’s lettering style or extension of his thought bubble to represent that he is remembering Richie’s words. He’s remembering the words throughout this scene, but here, Richie’s words aren’t delineated as dialogue. This depiction will be standard representation of “(Thought by Stephen)”.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HE DRONES BARS OF FERRANDO'S ARIA DI SORTITA.
RICHIE (Thought By Stephen):
THE GRANDEST NUMBER, STEPHEN, IN THE WHOLE OPERA. LISTEN.
5.8 – Richie, whistling again and beating time on his knees. His whistle, for whatever dream/memory-like reason, stirs the air in the room.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HIS TUNEFUL WHISTLE SOUNDS AGAIN, FINELY SHADED, WITH RUSHES OF THE AIR, HIS FISTS BIGDRUMMING ON HIS PADDED KNEES.
5.9 – Close-up of the side of Stephen’s head. His ear is visible, soaking in the notes of Richie’s whistling. His hair slightly stirred.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THIS WIND IS SWEETER.
6.1 –Family Lie. We see Stephen from behind, talking to a Clongowes gentry.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HOUSES OF DECAY, MINE, HIS AND ALL. YOU TOLD THE CLONGOWES GENTRY YOU HAD AN UNCLE A JUDGE AND AN UNCLE A GENERAL IN THE ARMY. COME OUT OF THEM, STEPHEN. BEAUTY IS NOT THERE.
6.2 – The Retreat Pt. I - Shelter. The Clongowes gentry is replaced by a massive shelf full of books. The gentry’s outline is still available in the different shades of the book spines.
STEPHEN (Thought):
NOR IN THE STAGNANT BAY OF MARSH'S LIBRARY WHERE YOU READ THE FADING PROPHECIES OF JOACHIM ABBAS. FOR WHOM? THE HUNDREDHEADED RABBLE OF THE CATHEDRAL CLOSE.
6.3 – The Retreat Pt. II – Misanthropic Flee. Jonathan Swift, running on all fours, his hair billows out behind him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A HATER OF HIS KIND RAN FROM THEM TO THE WOOD OF MADNESS, HIS MANE FOAMING IN THE MOON, HIS EYEBALLS STARS.
6.4 – First in a series of panels. Swift’s face turns to Temple’s and the features grow more horse-like.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HOUYHNHNM, HORSENOSTRILLED. THE OVAL EQUINE FACES, TEMPLE,
6.5 – Second in series. From left to right, a horse-faced man fades in. At it’s most faded, the face is Buck’s, then Foxy’s, then Lanternjaws’.
STEPHEN (Thought):
BUCK MULLIGAN, FOXY CAMPBELL, LANTERNJAWS.
6.6 – Third in series. The men are now one and that one is a horse.
STEPHEN (Thought):
ABBAS FATHER, FURIOUS DEAN, WHAT OFFENCE LAID FIRE TO THEIR BRAINS? PAFF! DESCENDE, CALVE, UT NE AMPLIUS DECALVERIS.
6.7 – Fourth in series. Descent in Mockery. Top-down view of bald Stephen descending a set of stairs. Stephen’s action is at the bottom of the panel. The top of the panel is another staircase leading up to an altar. A throng of people shouting surround either side of the staircases and a few chunky priests await at the altar.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A GARLAND OF GREY HAIR ON HIS COMMINATED HEAD SEE HIM ME CLAMBERING DOWN TO THE FOOTPACE (DESCENDE!), CLUTCHING A MONSTRANCE, BASILISKEYED. GET DOWN, BALDPOLL!
6.8 – Last in series. Deline the Mare, a Sacrifice. At the altar now, a horse freshly splayed atop it.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A CHOIR GIVES BACK MENACE AND ECHO, ASSISTING ABOUT THE ALTAR'S HORNS, THE SNORTED LATIN OF JACKPRIESTS MOVING BURLY IN THEIR ALBS, TONSURED AND OILED AND GELDED, FAT WITH THE FAT OF KIDNEYS OF WHEAT.
6.9 – A priest raises some of the horse’s entrails to the expectant mass below him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
AND AT THE SAME INSTANT PERHAPS A PRIEST ROUND THE CORNER IS ELEVATING IT.
STEPHEN (Thought):
DRINGDRING!
STEPHEN (Thought):
AND TWO STREETS OFF ANOTHER LOCKING IT INTO A PYX.
STEPHEN (Thought):
DRINGADRING!
6.10 – Now there are four priests and a line of people in front of them, tongues outstretched.
STEPHEN (Thought):
AND IN A LADYCHAPEL ANOTHER TAKING HOUSEL ALL TO HIS OWN CHEEK.
STEPHEN (Thought):
DRINGDRING!
STEPHEN (Thought):
DOWN, UP, FORWARD, BACK. DAN OCCAM THOUGHT OF THAT, INVINCIBLE DOCTOR. A MISTY ENGLISH MORNING THE IMP HYPOSTASIS TICKLED HIS BRAIN.
6.11 – Close up on one of the congregation’s mouths as the priest fills it with the horse’s steaming entrails. The thoughts are split between coming from off-panel and the supplicant, as thought by Stephen.
STEPHEN (Thought):
BRINGING HIS HOST DOWN AND KNEELING HE HEARD TWINE WITH HIS SECOND BELL THE FIRST BELL IN THE TRANSEPT
STEPHEN (Thought interrupting thought – thought bubble inside a thought bubble already in progress):
(HE IS LIFTING HIS)
STEPHEN (Thought):
AND, RISING, HEARD
SUPPLICANT:
(NOW I AM LIFTING)
STEPHEN (Thought):
THEIR TWO BELLS
STEPHEN (Thought interrupting thought):
(HE IS KNEELING)
STEPHEN (Thought):
TWANG IN DIPHTHONG.
7.1 – Stephen on his hands and knees, praying, and looking at something. It’s raining.
STEPHEN (Thought):
COUSIN STEPHEN, YOU WILL NEVER BE A SAINT. ISLE OF SAINTS. YOU WEREAWFULLY HOLY, WEREN'T YOU? YOU PRAYED TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN THAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE A RED NOSE.
7.2 – What Stephen’s looking at: a lady pulling high her
skirts to avoid dragging them through a puddle.
STEPHEN (Thought):
YOU PRAYED TO THE DEVIL IN SERPENTINE AVENUE THAT THE FUBSY WIDOW IN FRONT MIGHT LIFT HER CLOTHES STILL MORE FROM THE WET STREET. O SI, CERTO! SELL YOUR SOUL FOR THAT, DO, DYED RAGS PINNED ROUND A SQUAW.
7.3 – Stephen, on top of the tram. Rain bears down upon
him. Inset: Raindrops – the raindrops are naked women.
STEPHEN (Thought):
MORE TELL ME, MORE STILL!! ON THE TOP OF THE HOWTH TRAM ALONE CRYING TO THE RAIN: NAKED WOMEN! NAKED WOMEN!
7.4 – Split into quarters. A mother, a warrior, a worker, a
thinker – each a woman.
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
WHAT ABOUT THAT, EH? WHAT ABOUT WHAT? WHAT ELSE WERE THEY INVENTED FOR?
7.5 – A bed table piled with books. We can read the spines.
They are all very esoteric books with a cheesy, late 18th
century romance thrown into the mix.
STEPHEN (Thought):
READING TWO PAGES APIECE OF SEVEN BOOKS EVERY NIGHT, EH? I WAS YOUNG. YOU BOWED TO YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR, STEPPING FORWARD TO APPLAUSE EARNESTLY, STRIKING FACE. HURRAY FOR THE GODDAMNED IDIOT! HRAY! NO-ONE SAW: TELL NO-ONE.
7.6 – Front covers of three books, held into the panel by
disembodied hands(not the books on Stephen’s bed table).
The books are titled, in order, F, Q, and W.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
BOOKS YOU WERE GOING TO WRITE WITH LETTERS FOR TITLES. HAVE YOU READ HIS F? O YES, BUT I PREFER Q. YES, BUT W IS WONDERFUL. O YES, W.
7.7 – Shelf after shelf of books. Spines are letters,
numbers, hieroglyphics.
STEPHEN (Thought):
REMEMBER YOUR EPIPHANIES WRITTEN ON GREEN OVAL LEAVES, DEEPLY DEEP, COPIES TO BE SENT IF YOU DIED TO ALL THE GREAT LIBRARIES OF THE WORLD, INCLUDING ALEXANDRIA?
7.8 – A ghostly, cloud-like arm/hand reaches for a book on
the shelf.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SOMEONE WAS TO READ THEM THERE AFTER A FEW THOUSAND YEARS, A MAHAMANVANTARA. PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA LIKE. AY, VERY LIKE A WHALE.
7.9 – The book is open. The pages read:
STEPHEN (Thought):
WHEN ONE READS THESE STRANGE PAGES OF ONE LONG GONE ONE FEELS THAT ONE IS AT ONE WITH ONE WHO ONCE .....
8.1 – Stephen’s feet, straddling two types of earth – sand
and shells.
SFX:
CRACK!
8.2 – “Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a midden of man's ashes.” An empty beer bottle is in the foreground, partially buried in the sand. There is a close up inset of the bottle label. It reads:
INSET (Thought):
A SENTINEL: ISLE OF DREADFUL THIRST.
8.3 – “Broken hoops on the shore; at the land a maze of dark cunning nets; farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the higher beach a dryingline with two crucified shirts.” What we are looking at are wigwam-shaped structures of human bones, superimposed onto this scene.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WIGWAMS OF BROWN STEERSMEN AND MASTER MARINERS. HUMAN SHELLS.
8.4 – Stephen’s P.O.V. The Shoreline. Water on left.
STEPHEN (Thought):
I HAVE PASSED THE WAY TO AUNT SARA'S. AM I NOT GOING THERE? SEEMS NOT. NO-ONE ABOUT.
8.5 – Stephen’s P.O.V. The Shoreline. Water on right.
8.6 – Mary and Joseph, in a domestic scene. Mary is pregnant and showing. Joe looks pissed.
JOSEPH:
—QUI VOUS A MIS DANS CETTE FICHUE POSITION?
MARY:
—C'EST LE PIGEON, JOSEPH.
8.7 – Stephen and Patrice are drinking milk in a bar.
Stephen is Stephen. We still haven’t seen his face.
Patrice’s left arm is a wing.
STEPHEN (Thought):
PATRICE, HOME ON FURLOUGH, LAPPED WARM MILK WITH ME IN THE BAR MACMAHON. SON OF THE WILD GOOSE, KEVIN EGAN OF PARIS.
8.8 – Same scene. Now Patrice has a rabbit’s face in
addition to his one wing, milk in hand.
PATRICE (Stephen’s thought):
MY FATHER'S A BIRD,
STEPHEN (Thought):
HE LAPPED THE SWEET LAIT CHAUD WITH PINK YOUNG TONGUE, PLUMP BUNNY'S FACE. LAP, LAPIN. HE HOPES TO WIN IN THE GROS LOTS.
8.9 – Same scene, though we’ve panned way out. The bar
scene has turned into a woman’s pubic region. We can see
the bar (her groin) and her torso up to the bottom of her
breasts. We can make out Stephen and Patrice sitting at the
bar. A dove/pigeon flies above the women’s navel.
STEPHEN (Thought):
ABOUT THE NATURE OF WOMEN HE READ IN MICHELET. BUT HE MUST SEND ME LA VIE DE JESUS BY M. LEO TAXIL. LENT IT TO HIS FRIEND.
9.1 – Patrice, in a confessional booth. We cannot see the
second speaker. Ostensibly, it’s Stephen.
PATRICE:
—C'EST TORDANT, VOUS SAVEZ. MOI, JE SUIS SOCIALISTE. JE NE CROIS PAS EN L'EXISTENCE DE DIEU. FAUT PAS LE DIRE A MON PÉRE.
SECOND SPEAKER:
—IL CROIT?
9.2 – We’re back in the bar. Still a conversation between
Patrice and Stephen.
PATRICE:
—MON PÈRE, OUI.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SCHLUSS. HE LAPS.
9.3 – The next three panels follow the theme established by
Stephen’s thoughts of his school regimen: P.C.N. This first
panel’s theme is physics. We see a hat and glove combo
represented as a physical diagram, a la:
STEPHEN (Thought):
MY LATIN QUARTER HAT. GOD, WE SIMPLY MUST DRESS THE CHARACTER. I WANT PUCE GLOVES. YOU WERE A STUDENT, WEREN'T YOU? OF WHAT IN THE OTHER DEVIL'S NAME?
9.4 – The second panel. Chemistry. The letters P., C., and
N. arranged as a chemical bond diagram, a la:
STEPHEN (Thought):
PAYSAYENN. P. C. N., YOU KNOW: PHYSIQUES, CHIMIQUES ET
NATURELLES. AHA.
9.5 – The last panel. Biology. A bowl of soup. A close-up
inset shows the soup bowl from above. Its contents look
like a cell under a slide, a la:
STEPHEN (Thought):
EATING YOUR GROATSWORTH OF MOU EN CIVET, FLESHPOTS OF
EGYPT, ELBOWED BY BELCHING CABMEN.
9.6 – Stephen, in and amongst the French Bohemians.
STEPHEN (Thought):
JUST SAY IN THE MOST NATURAL TONE: WHEN I WAS IN PARIS; BOUL' MICH', I USED TO. YES, USED TO CARRY PUNCHED
TICKETS TO PROVE AN ALIBI IF THEY ARRESTED YOU FOR MURDER SOMEWHERE.
9.7 – Scales of Justice weighing Frenchie Stephen against Stephen of the present. Both look ahead, at the reader.
STEPHEN (Thought):
JUSTICE.
9.8 – The two Stephens, past and present, now looking at each other.
STEPHEN (Thought):
ON THE NIGHT OF THE SEVENTEENTH OF FEBRUARY 1904 THE PRISONER WAS SEEN BY TWO WITNESSES.
9.9 – Split vertically into three panels: First, right mug
shot of prisoner. Second, left mug shot of prisoner. Third,
two mug shots, facing off.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
OTHER FELLOW DID IT: OTHER ME. HAT, TIE, OVERCOAT, NOSE. LUI, C'EST MOI. YOU SEEM TO HAVE ENJOYED YOURSELF.
10.1 – Stephen’s back. He stands in front of a closed door.
In French, the door reads: Post Office. An usher stands
outside the door.
STEPHEN (Thought):
PROUDLY WALKING. WHOM WERE YOU TRYING TO WALK LIKE? FORGET: A DISPOSSESSED. WITH MOTHER'S MONEY ORDER, EIGHT SHILLINGS, THE BANGING DOOR OF THE POST OFFICE SLAMMED IN YOUR FACE BY THE USHER. HUNGER TOOTHACHE.
STEPHEN (To Usher, thought):
ENCORE DEUX MINUTES.
STEPHEN (Thought):
LOOK CLOCK. MUST GET.
USHER (Stephen’s thought):
FERMÉ.
10.2 – Split into half horizontally. Top – Stephen, shotgun
in hand, blows the hell out of the usher. Bottom – Stephen,
reloading the shotgun with a one-handed cocking gesture.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HIRED DOG! SHOOT HIM TO BLOODY BITS WITH A
SFX (gun firing):
BANG
STEPHEN (Thought):
SHOTGUN, BITS MAN SPATTERED WALLS ALL BRASS BUTTONS. BITS ALL
SFX: (Reloading noise):
KHRRRRKLAK
STEPHEN (Thought):
IN PLACE
SFX: (Reloading noise):
CLACK
STEPHEN (Thought):
BACK.
10.3 – The usher, hole-riddled and smiling, shakes hands
with Stephen.
STEPHEN (Thought):
NOT HURT? O, THAT'S ALL RIGHT. SHAKE HANDS. SEE WHAT I MEANT, SEE? O, THAT'S ALL RIGHT. SHAKE A SHAKE. O, THAT'S ALL ONLY ALL RIGHT.
10.4 – The threesome mentioned below sit on repentance stools at a bar in Heaven.
STEPHEN (Thought):
YOU WERE GOING TO DO WONDERS, WHAT? MISSIONARY TO EUROPE AFTER FIERY COLUMBANUS. FIACRE AND SCOTUS ON THEIR CREEPYSTOOLS IN HEAVEN SPILT FROM THEIR PINTPOTS, LOUDLATINLAUGHING:
THE THREESOME (Stephen’s thought):
EUGE! EUGE!
10.5 – A magazine stand fills the panel. The titles of the magazines are the words below:
MAGAZINE TITLES (Thought by Stephen):
PRETENDING TO SPEAK BROKEN ENGLISH AS YOU DRAGGED YOUR VALISE, PORTER THREEPENCE, ACROSS THE SLIMY PIER AT NEWHAVEN. COMMENT? RICH BOOTY YOU BROUGHT BACK; LE TUTU, FIVE TATTERED NUMBERS OF PANTALON BLANC ET CULOTTE ROUGE;
10.6 – The back of a blue card. In French, the back reads:
Telegram.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A BLUE FRENCH TELEGRAM, CURIOSITY TO SHOW:
10.7 – The other side of the card. It reads:
TELEGRAM:
—NOTHER DYING COME HOME FATHER.
10.8 –
THE AUNT THINKS YOU KILLED YOUR MOTHER. THAT'S WHY SHE WON'T.
10.9 – Back to the bar scene from earlier. Stephen is
absent. Patrice sings with the rest of the bar:
BAR (Singing):
THEN HERE'S A HEALTH TO MULLIGAN'S AUNT
AND I'LL TELL YOU THE REASON WHY.
SHE ALWAYS KEPT THINGS DECENT IN
THE HANNIGAN FAMILEYE.
11.1 – Stephen looks at the Liffey’s seawall. The seawall
is made of boulders and extends the Liffey into the bay.
Some of the boulders look like human skulls.
11.2 – Split vertically. The first panel’s scene is the
same although our viewpoint is raised a bit so that we see
the sun shining down upon it all. The second panel is the
sun shining down upon Paris.
STEPHEN (Thought):
PARIS RAWLY WAKING, CRUDE SUNLIGHT ON HER LEMON STREETS. MOIST PITH OF FARLS OF BREAD, THE FROGGREEN WORMWOOD, HER MATIN INCENSE, COURT THE AIR.
11.3 – A man sits on an unmade bed looking out of a window
into which the sun shines (whew!). His back is to us.
STEPHEN (Thought):
BELLUOMO RISES FROM THE BED OF HIS WIFE'S LOVER'S WIFE, THE KERCHIEFED HOUSEWIFE IS ASTIR, A SAUCER OF ACETIC ACID IN HER HAND.
11.4 – Our view is of two women sitting at a table in the
patisserie, Rodot’s. The women stuff their faces with
pastries. They are framed by a window. Beyond the window is
the street.
STEPHEN (Thought):
IN RODOT'S YVONNE AND MADELEINE NEWMAKE THEIR TUMBLED BEAUTIES, SHATTERING WITH GOLD TEETH CHAUSSONS OF PASTRY, THEIR MOUTHS YELLOWED WITH THE PUS OF FLAN BRETON.
11.5 – Finish out vertically to the end of the page. Each
vertical split shows us various men as they pass by the
window and stop to peep in at the women.
STEPHEN (Thought):
FACES OF PARIS MEN GO BY, THEIR WELLPLEASED PLEASERS, CURLED CONQUISTADORES.
11.6 (Bottom third) – We’re back inside of a bar. Stephen,
Kevin and Patrice Egan sit together. Around them everyone
stuffs their face.
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
NOON SLUMBERS. KEVIN EGAN ROLLS GUNPOWDER CIGARETTES THROUGH FINGERS SMEARED WITH PRINTER'S INK, SIPPING HIS GREEN FAIRY AS PATRICE HIS WHITE. ABOUT US GOBBLERS FORK SPICED BEANS DOWN THEIR GULLETS.
11.7 – Waitress and Stephen. Stephen’s P.O.V. looking up at
waitress trying to take his order.
STEPHEN (To waitress, thought):
UN DEMI SETIER!
STEPHEN (Thought):
A JET OF COFFEE STEAM FROM THE BURNISHED CALDRON. SHE SERVES ME AT HIS BECK.
STEPHEN (To waitress, multi-thought):
IL EST IRLANDAIS. HOLLANDAIS? NON FROMAGE. DEUX IRLANDAIS, NOUS, IRLANDE, VOUS SAVEZ?
11.8 – Split vertically. The first panel, the waitress
smiles and says, yes. The second is still from Stephen’s
P.O.V. The waitress walking away.
WAITRESS (Stephen’s thought):
AH, OUI!
STEPHEN (Thought):
SHE THOUGHT YOU WANTED A CHEESE HOLLANDAIS. YOUR POSTPRANDIAL, DO YOU KNOW THAT WORD? POSTPRANDIAL.
12.1 – Kevin, Patrice, and Stephen, in the bar. For this
panel, it’s only their table we’re concerned with.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THERE WAS A FELLOW I KNEW ONCE IN BARCELONA, QUEER FELLOW, USED TO CALL IT HIS POSTPRANDIAL.
12.2 – Pan out to an angled overhead of the rest of the
bar.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WELL:
ALL THREE (Stephen’s thought):
SLAINTE!
STEPHEN (Thought):
AROUND THE SLABBED TABLES THE TANGLE OF WINED BREATHS AND GRUMBLING GORGES.
12.3 – Zoom back in to Kevin. He holds a glass of green absinthe to his lips. The rim of the glass has fangs, waiting to dig into Kevin.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HIS BREATH HANGS OVER OUR SAUCESTAINED PLATES, THE GREEN FAIRY'S FANG THRUSTING BETWEEN HIS LIPS.
12.4 – The green-filled glass in Kevin’s hand turns into a green-tinted cutout of Ireland.
STEPHEN (Thought):
OF IRELAND, THE DALCASSIANS, OF HOPES, CONSPIRACIES, OF ARTHUR GRIFFITH NOW, A E, PIMANDER, GOOD SHEPHERD OF MEN. TO YOKE ME AS HIS YOKEFELLOW, OUR CRIMES OUR COMMON CAUSE.
12.5 – Simon, shouting Stephen into existence. The lines closest to his mouth are stringy like spider-web. Further away, the lines coalesce into Stephen’s shape.
STEPHEN (Thought):
YOU'RE YOUR FATHER'S SON. I KNOW THE VOICE. HIS FUSTIAN SHIRT, SANGUINEFLOWERED, TREMBLES ITS SPANISH TASSELS AT HIS SECRETS. M. DRUMONT, FAMOUS JOURNALIST, DRUMONT, KNOW WHAT HE CALLED QUEEN VICTORIA? OLD HAG WITH THE YELLOW TEETH. VIEILLE OGRESSE WITH THE DENTS JAUNES.
12.6 – Row upon row of men in bathtubs. The water is absinthe green.
STEPHEN (Thought):
MAUD GONNE, BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, LA PATRIE, M. MILLEVOYE, FÉLIX
FAURE, KNOW HOW HE DIED? LICENTIOUS MEN. THE FROEKEN, BONNE À TOUT FAIRE, WHO RUBS MALE NAKEDNESS IN THE BATH AT UPSALA. MOI FAIRE, SHE SAID, TOUS LES MESSIEURS. NOT THIS MONSIEUR, I SAID. MOST LICENTIOUS CUSTOM. BATH A MOST PRIVATE THING. I WOULDN'T LET MY BROTHER, NOT EVEN MY OWN BROTHER, MOST LASCIVIOUS THING. GREEN EYES, I SEE YOU. FANG, I FEEL. LASCIVIOUS PEOPLE.
12.7 - In one hand Kevin holds a cigarette. That cigarette
is the end of a lit fuse that travels throughout the rest
of this page and up until the end of the next. The fuse
runs into, over, and through the upcoming panels.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THE BLUE FUSE BURNS DEADLY BETWEEN HANDS AND BURNS CLEAR. LOOSE TOBACCOSHREDS CATCH FIRE: A FLAME AND ACRID SMOKE LIGHT OUR CORNER. RAW FACEBONES UNDER HIS PEEP OF DAY BOY'S HAT.
12.8 – Panel split in half vertically. Left side – picture
of James Stephens, Irish revolutionary. Right side –
picture of James Stephens, Irish revolutionary dressed up
as a woman.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HOW THE HEAD CENTRE GOT AWAY, AUTHENTIC VERSION. GOT UP AS A YOUNG BRIDE, MAN, VEIL, ORANGEBLOSSOMS, DROVE OUT THE ROAD TO MALAHIDE. DID, FAITH.
12.9 – Panel split into quarters. Upper left – group
picture of all the revolutionaries mentioned above. Upper
right – same picture, faded. Lower left – same picture,
more faded. Lower right – only an outline of the prior
picture remains. Don’t forget the fuse running on to the
next page.
STEPHEN (Thought):
OF LOST LEADERS, THE BETRAYED, WILD ESCAPES. DISGUISES, CLUTCHED AT, GONE, NOT HERE.
13.1 – Bar scene. Close up of Kevin. Stephen’s thoughts.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SPURNED LOVER. I WAS A STRAPPING YOUNG GOSSOON AT THAT TIME, I TELL YOU. I'LL SHOW YOU MY LIKENESS ONE DAY. I WAS, FAITH.
13.2 – Split panel vertically. Left – Richard Burke, revolutionary. Right – Richard Burke, revolutionary behind
bars.
STEPHEN (Thought):
LOVER, FOR HER LOVE HE PROWLED WITH COLONEL RICHARD BURKE, TANIST OF HIS SEPT, UNDER THE WALLS OF CLERKENWELL AND, CROUCHING, SAW A FLAME OF VENGEANCE HURL THEM UPWARD IN THE FOG.
13.3 – Where’s Egan? I want this panel to look like Where’s Waldo? in Paris.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SHATTERED GLASS AND TOPPLING MASONRY. IN GAY PAREE HE HIDES, EGAN OF PARIS, UNSOUGHT BY ANY SAVE BY ME.
13.4 – Egan among the Parisian destitute.
STEPHEN (Thought):
MAKING HIS DAY'S STATIONS, THE DINGY PRINTINGCASE, HIS THREE TAVERNS, THE MONTMARTRE LAIR HE SLEEPS SHORT NIGHT IN, RUE DE LA GOUTTE-D'OR, DAMASCENED WITH FLYBLOWN FACES OF THE GONE.
13.5 – Egan among the Parisian destitute. Around him are an iconic heart, circled with a line through it, Ireland, circled with a line through it, and a woman, circled with a line through her.
STEPHEN (Thought):
LOVELESS, LANDLESS, WIFELESS. SHE IS QUITE NICEY COMFY WITHOUT HER OUTCAST MAN, MADAME IN RUE GÎT-LE-CÞUR, CANARY AND TWO BUCK LODGERS.
13.6 - Egan among the Parisian destitute, speaking – he’s
speaking in pictures though.
STEPHEN (Thought):
PEACHY CHEEKS, A ZEBRA SKIRT, FRISKY AS A YOUNG THING'S. SPURNED AND UNDESPAIRING. TELL PAT YOU SAW ME, WON'T YOU? I WANTED TO GET POOR PAT A JOB ONE TIME. MON FILS, SOLDIER OF FRANCE.
KEVIN (Picture Bubble):
[PAT IN A FRENCH ARMY UNIFORM.]
13.7 – Same scene.
STEPHEN (Thought):
I TAUGHT HIM TO SING THE BOYS OF KILKENNY ARE STOUT ROARING BLADES. KNOW THAT OLD LAY? I TAUGHT PATRICE THAT.
KEVIN (Picture Bubble):
[LITTLE PAT, SINGING TO HIS POPPA.]
13.8 – Somehow, our fuse from the prior page meets the
explosive here. It might be TNT shaped as Ireland, but
something along those lines.
STEPHEN(Thought):
OLD KILKENNY: SAINT CANICE, STRONGBOW'S CASTLE ON THE NORE. GOES LIKE THIS. O, O. HE TAKES ME, NAPPER TANDY, BY THE HAND.
O, O THE BOYS OF
KILKENNY ....
13.8½ – Our fuse detonates. This panel is an explosion.
SFX:
BANG!
13.9 – Egan among the Parisian destitute, holding Stephen’s hand.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WEAK WASTING HAND ON MINE. THEY HAVE FORGOTTEN KEVIN EGAN, NOT HE THEM. REMEMBERING THEE, O SION.
14.1 – Stephen comes to the edge of the sea. Wet sand is on his boots. There is a fresh, wild breeze washing over him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HERE, I AM NOT WALKING OUT TO THE KISH LIGHTSHIP, AM I?
14.2 – Stephen’s feet, sinking in the wet sand.
STEPHEN (Thought):
14.3 - Stephen sees Martello Tower not too far away.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THE COLD DOMED ROOM OF THE TOWER WAITS.
14.4 – We’re moving in a sequence from Stephen’s POV on the
beach to his room inside Martello Tower. So, for this
panel, we begin with the tower itself.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THROUGH THE BARBACANS THE SHAFTS OF LIGHT ARE MOVING EVER, SLOWLY EVER AS MY FEET ARE SINKING, CREEPING DUSKWARD OVER THE DIAL FLOOR. BLUE DUSK, NIGHTFALL, DEEP BLUE NIGHT.
14. 5 – Now we’re outside looking into one of Stephen’s
windows.
STEPHEN (Thought):
IN THE DARKNESS OF THE DOME THEY WAIT, THEIR PUSHEDBACK CHAIRS, MY OBELISK VALISE, AROUND A BOARD OF ABANDONED PLATTERS. WHO TO CLEAR IT?
14.6 – Now we’re inside Stephen’s home. Buck and Haines are
hanging out, talking.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HE HAS THE KEY. I WILL NOT SLEEP THERE WHEN THIS NIGHT COMES. A SHUT DOOR OF A SILENT TOWER, ENTOMBING THEIR - BLIND BODIES, THE PANTHERSAHIB AND HIS POINTER.
14.7 – “He lifted his feet up from the suck and turned back
by the mole of boulders.”
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
CALL: NO ANSWER. TAKE ALL, KEEP ALL.
14.8 – Stephen gets up to walk. His soul, which in our representation is an unattached shadow, walks with him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
MY SOUL WALKS WITH ME, FORM OF FORMS.
14.9 – Stephen, looking at over the ocean. A massive wave threatens to beat down upon him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SO IN THE MOON'S MIDWATCHES I PACE THE PATH ABOVE THE ROCKS, IN SABLE SILVERED, HEARING ELSINORE'S TEMPTING FLOOD.
15.1 – Stephen sits up on a rock. His ashplant is secured in a crevice near him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THE FLOOD IS FOLLOWING ME. I CAN WATCH IT FLOW PAST FROM HERE. GET BACK THEN BY THE POOLBEG ROAD TO THE STRAND THERE.
15.2 – Stephen’s P.O.V.: bloated carcass of a dog; “the gunwale of a boat, sunk in sand.”
STEPHEN (Thought):
UN COCHE ENSABLÉ LOUIS VEUILLOT CALLED GAUTIER'S PROSE. THESE HEAVY SANDS ARE LANGUAGE TIDE AND WIND HAVE SILTED HERE. AND THESE, THE STONEHEAPS OF DEAD BUILDERS, A WARREN OF WEASEL RATS.
15.3 – The boulders around Stephen appear to be gathering themselves into something.
15.4 – Over the next three panels, the boulders morph into
a rock giant.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HIDE GOLD THERE. TRY IT. YOU HAVE SOME. SANDS AND STONES. HEAVY OF THE PAST.
15.5 – More rock giant.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SIR LOUT'S TOYS. MIND YOU DON'T GET ONE BANG ON THE EAR. I'M THE BLOODY WELL GIGANT ROLLS ALL THEM BLOODY WELL BOULDERS, BONES FOR MY STEPPINGSTONES.
15.6 – Rock giant looking down on Stephen.
ROCK GIANT (Thought by Stephen):
FEEFAWFUM. I ZMELLZ DE BLOODZ ODZ AN IRIDZMAN.
15.7 – Stephen’s P.O.V.: a live dog running towards him. The dog isn’t yet too close.
STEPHEN (Thought):
LORD, IS HE GOING TO ATTACK ME? RESPECT HIS LIBERTY. YOU WILL NOT BE MASTER OF OTHERS OR THEIR SLAVE. I HAVE MY STICK. SIT TIGHT.
15.8 – “From farther away, walking shoreward across from
the crested tide, figures, two.” They’re female.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THE TWO MARIES. THEY HAVE TUCKED IT SAFE MONG THE BULRUSHES.
15.9 – The dog runs away.
STEPHEN (Thought):
PEEKABOO. I SEE YOU. NO, THE DOG. HE IS RUNNING BACK TO THEM. WHO?
16.1 – A Viking boat landing upon the shores of Ireland.
STEPHEN (Thought):
GALLEYS OF THE LOCHLANNS RAN HERE TO BEACH, IN QUEST OF PREY, THEIR BLOODBEAKED PROWS RIDING LOW ON A MOLTEN PEWTER SURF. DANE VIKINGS, TORCS OF TOMAHAWKS AGLITTER ON THEIR BREASTS WHEN MALACHI WORE THE COLLAR OF GOLD.
16.2 – A mass of Irish fishermen stand in the knee-high
ocean, thrusting spears into throngs of huge fish. The
water is awash with blood.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A SCHOOL OF TURLEHIDE WHALES STRANDED IN HOT NOON, SPOUTING, HOBBLING IN THE SHALLOWS. THEN FROM THE STARVING CAGEWORK CITY A HORDE OF JERKINED DWARFS, MY PEOPLE, WITH FLAYERS' KNIVES, RUNNING, SCALING, HACKING IN GREEN BLUBBERY WHALEMEAT.
16.3 – Stephen stands on the water’s edge watching
(imagining this scene). The POV is with Stephen’s back to
us.
STEPHEN (Thought):
FAMINE, PLAGUE AND LAUGHTERS. THEIR BLOOD IS IN ME, THEIR LUSTS MY WAVES. I MOVED AMONG THEM ON THE FROZEN LIFFEY, THAT I, A CHANGELING, AMONG THE SPLUTTERING RESIN FIRES. I SPOKE TO NO-ONE: NONE TO
ME.
16.4 – “The dog's bark ran towards him, stopped, ran back.” Let’s make this literal. We can split the panel into thirds, with the dog’s bark coming out of the dog’s mouth, it’s the word “bark” with four legs, run toward Stephen, then run away.
STEPHEN (Thought):
DOG OF MY ENEMY. I JUST SIMPLY STOOD PALE, SILENT, BAYED ABOUT. TERRIBILIA MEDITANS.
16.5 – Buck and Haines, side by side, clapping.
SFX (Hands clapping):
BARK! BARK!
STEPHEN (Thought):
A PRIMROSE DOUBLET, FORTUNE'S KNAVE, SMILED ON MY FEAR. FOR THAT ARE YOU PINING, THE BARK OF THEIR APPLAUSE? PRETENDERS: LIVE THEIR LIVES.
16.6 – People holding to their faces masks of the men
mentioned in Stephen’s speech below.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THE BRUCE'S BROTHER, THOMAS FITZGERALD, SILKEN KNIGHT, PERKIN WARBECK, YORK'S FALSE SCION, IN BREECHES OF SILK OF WHITEROSE IVORY, WONDER OF A DAY, AND LAMBERT SIMNEL, WITH A TAIL OF NANS AND SUTLERS, A SCULLION CROWNED.
16.7 – Buck, swimming in a cemetery.
STEPHEN (Thought):
ALL KINGS' SONS. PARADISE OF PRETENDERS THEN AND NOW. HE SAVED MEN FROM DROWNING AND YOU SHAKE AT A CUR'S YELPING. BUT THE COURTIERS WHO MOCKED GUIDO IN OR SAN MICHELE WERE IN THEIR OWN HOUSE. HOUSE OF...
16.8 – Buck dives down under a tombstone.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WE DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR MEDIEVAL ABSTRUSIOSITIES. WOULD YOU DO WHAT HE DID?
16.9 – He surfaces with a living person, not a corpse, in
tow.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A BOAT WOULD BE NEAR, A LIFEBUOY. NATÜRLICH, PUT THERE FOR YOU. WOULD YOU OR WOULD YOU NOT?
17.1 – Stephen stands upon some rocks overlooking the
ocean. In the background, the ocean, a man is flailing
about. He is drowning.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THE MAN THAT WAS DROWNED NINE DAYS AGO OFF MAIDEN'S ROCK. THEY ARE WAITING FOR HIM NOW. THE TRUTH, SPIT IT OUT. I WOULD WANT TO. I WOULD TRY.
17.2 – Top-down view of the back of Stephen’s head. His face is buried in a bowl of water.
STEPHEN (Thought):
I AM NOT A STRONG SWIMMER. WATER COLD SOFT. WHEN I PUT MY FACE INTO IT IN THE BASIN AT CLONGOWES. CAN'T SEE! WHO'S BEHIND ME? OUT QUICKLY, QUICKLY!
17.3 – Top-down view of the bowl of water. Stephen is flailing about in it, drowning.
STEPHEN (Thought):
DO YOU SEE THE TIDE FLOWING QUICKLY IN ON ALL SIDES, SHEETING THE LOWS OF SAND QUICKLY, SHELLCOCOACOLOURED? IF I HAD LAND UNDER MY FEET.
17.4 – Top-down view. Drowned man’s face under the water,
short hair billowing out around him.
STEPHEN (Thought):
I WANT HIS LIFE STILL TO BE HIS, MINE TO BE MINE. A DROWNING MAN.
17.5 – The man’s hair extends, like a woman’s. His features
become more feminine.
STEPHEN (Thought):
HIS HUMAN EYES SCREAM TO ME OUT OF HORROR OF HIS DEATH. I ...
17.6 – The man has turned into Stephen’s mother. A velvety
darkness envelopes her.
STEPHEN (Thought):
WITH HIM TOGETHER DOWN .... I COULD NOT SAVE HER. WATERS: BITTER DEATH: LOST.
17.7 – Stephen’s P.O.V.: Woman and man, walking; “Their dog ambled about a bank of dwindling sand, trotting, sniffing on all sides.”
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
I SEE HER SKIRTIES. PINNED UP, I BET. LOOKING FOR SOMETHING LOST IN A PAST LIFE.
17.8 – “Suddenly he [the dog] made off like a bounding hare, ears flung back, chasing the shadow of a lowskimming gull. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. He turned, bounded back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling
shanks.”
STEPHEN (Thought):
ON A FIELD TENNEY A BUCK, TRIPPANT, PROPER, UNATTIRED.
17.9 – This panel is vertically divided into 3 sections.
1-“At the lacefringe of the tide he halted with stiff forehoofs, seawardpointed ears.”
2- “His snout lifted barked at the wavenoise, herds of seamorse.”
3- “They serpented towards his feet, curling, unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing, from far, from farther out, waves and waves.”
18.1&2 – The following description should be represented in a vertical series – 4 panels:
1- “Cocklepickers. They waded a little way in the water and, stooping, soused their bags”
2 – “and, lifting them again, waded out.”
3 – “The dog yelped running to them, reared up and pawed them, dropping on all fours, again reared up at them with mute bearish fawning.”
4 – “Unheeded he kept by them as they came towards the drier sand, a rag of wolf's tongue redpanting from his jaws.”
18.3 – The live dog smells the dead dog: “His speckled body ambled ahead of them and then loped off at a calf's gallop. The carcass lay on his path. He stopped, sniffed, stalked round it, brother, nosing closer, went round it, sniffling rapidly like a dog
all over the dead dog's bedraggled fell.”
STEPHEN (Thought):
DOGSKULL, DOGSNIFF, EYES ON THE GROUND, MOVES TO ONE GREAT GOAL. AH, POOR DOGSBODY! HERE LIES POOR DOGSBODY'S BODY.
COCKLEPICKER:
—TATTERS! OUTOFTHAT, YOU MONGREL!
18.4,5,6 – Series of dog pissing. “The cry brought him
skulking back to his master and a blunt bootless kick sent him unscathed across a spit of sand, crouched in flight. He slunk back in a curve. Along by the edge of the mole he lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock. and from under a cocked hindleg pissed against it. He trotted forward and, lifting again his hindleg, pissed quick short at an unsmelt rock.
STEPHEN (Thought) 18.5:
DOESN'T SEE ME.
STEPHEN (Thought) 18.6:
THE SIMPLE PLEASURES OF THE POOR.
18.7,8,9 – Series of dog digging. “His hindpaws then
scattered the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. He rooted in the sand, dabbling, delving and stopped to listen to the air, scraped up the sand again with a fury of his claws, soon ceasing, a pard, a panther, got in spousebreach, vulturing the dead.
STEPHEN (Thought):
SOMETHING HE BURIED THERE, HIS GRANDMOTHER.
19.1,2,3 – Series of Stephen’s dream. I refer the artist to The Bloomsday book for a written description of Stephen’s dream. Divide this dream into thirds.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
AFTER HE WOKE ME LAST NIGHT SAME DREAM OR WAS IT? WAIT. OPEN HALLWAY. STREET OF HARLOTS. REMEMBER. HAROUN AL RASCHID. I AM ALMOSTING IT. THAT MAN LED ME, SPOKE. I WAS NOT AFRAID. THE MELON HE HAD HE HELD AGAINST MY FACE. SMILED: CREAMFRUIT SMELL. THAT WAS THE RULE, SAID. IN.
COME. RED CARPET SPREAD. YOU WILL SEE WHO.
19.4,5,6 - Series of the gypsies, moving along. “Shouldering their bags they trudged. His blued feet out of
turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, a dull brick
muffler strangling his unshaven neck. With woman steps she
followed: Spoils slung at her back. Loose sand and
shellgrit crusted her bare feet. About her windraw face
hair trailed.”
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
THE RED EGYPTIANS. THE RUFFIAN AND HIS STROLLING MORT. BEHIND HER LORD, HIS HELPMATE, BING AWAST TO ROMEVILLE. WHEN NIGHT HIDES HER BODY'S FLAWS CALLING UNDER HER BROWN SHAWL FROM AN ARCHWAY WHERE DOGS HAVE MIRED. HER FANCYMAN IS TREATING TWO ROYAL DUBLINS IN O'LOUGHLIN'S OF BLACKPITTS. BUSS HER, WAP IN ROGUES' RUM LINGO, FOR, O, MY DIMBER WAPPING DELL! A SHEFIEND'S WHITENESS UNDER HER RANCID RAGS. FUMBALLY'S LANE THAT NIGHT: THE TANYARD SMELLS.
19.7,8,9 – Series of the gypsies walking past Stephen. The
gypsies remind Stephen of a another couple (a gypsy women
in the arms of a man).
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
WHITE THY FAMBLES, RED THY GAN
AND THY QUARRONS DAINTY IS.
COUCH A HOGSHEAD WITH ME THEN.
IN THE DARKMANS CLIP AND KISS.
MOROSE DELECTATION AQUINAS TUNBELLY CALLS THIS, FRATE PORCOSPINO. UNFALLEN ADAM RODE AND NOT RUTTED. CALL AWAY LET HIM: THY QUARRONS DAINTY IS. LANGUAGE NO WHIT WORSE THAN HIS. MONKWORDS, MARYBEADS JABBER ON THEIR GIRDLES: ROGUEWORDS, TOUGH NUGGETS PATTER IN THEIR POCKETS. PASSING NOW.
Page 20, 21 – Splash. A double-paged spread. And it’s complicated. First, Stephen’s thoughts are arranged so that they circle within the page. There are three panels in the exact center of the page and one panel across the bottom ¼ of the page.
The first panel is normal and is a shot of Stephen’s lips, puckered up.
The second panel is skewed so that the direction “up” within the panel is toward the upper right corner. In this panel we see Stephen writing, using a rock as a table.
The third panel is situated so that “up” is the rightmost edge of the panel. Stephen’s shadow/soul rests over the letter he is writing. Some of his thoughts cross this letter, and wind up becoming part of the letter he is writing. Like so:
The background to this massive image should be comprised of images from the monologue below.
The bottom quarter, series of shots: “He lay back at full stretch over the sharp rocks, cramming the scribbled note and pencil into a pocket, his hat tilted down on his eyes.”
|
A SIDE EYE AT MY HAMLET HAT. IF I WERE SUDDENLY NAKED HERE AS I SIT? I AM NOT. ACROSS THE SANDS OF ALL THE WORLD, FOLLOWED BY THE SUN'S FLAMING SWORD, TO THE WEST, TREKKING TO EVENING LANDS. SHE TRUDGES, SCHLEPPS, TRAINS, DRAGS, TRASCINES HER LOAD. A TIDE WESTERING, MOONDRAWN, IN HER WAKE. TIDES, MYRIADISLANDED, WITHIN HER, BLOOD NOT MINE, OINOPA PONTON, A WINEDARK SEA. BEHOLD THE HANDMAID OF THE MOON. IN SLEEP THE WET SIGN CALLS HER HOUR, BIDS HER RISE. BRIDEBED, CHILDBED, BED OF DEATH, GHOSTCANDLED. OMNIS CARO AD TE VENIET. HE COMES, PALE VAMPIRE, THROUGH STORM HIS EYES, HIS BAT SAILS BLOODYING THE SEA, MOUTH TO HER MOUTH'S KISS. HERE. PUT A PIN IN THAT CHAP, WILL YOU? MY TABLETS. MOUTH TO HER KISS. NO. MUST BE TWO OF EM. GLUE EM WELL. MOUTH TO HER MOUTH’S KISS: MOUTH TO HER MOOMB. OOMB, ALLWOMBING TOMB: OOEEEHAH: ROAR OF CATARACTIC PLANETS, GLOBED, BLAZING, ROARING WAYAWAYAWAYAWAYAWAY. PAPER. THE BANKNOTES, BLAST THEM. OLD DEASY'S LETTER. HERE. THANKING YOU FOR THE HOSPITALITY TEAR THE BLANK END OFF. THAT'S TWICE I FORGOT TO TAKE SLIPS FROM THE LIBRARY COUNTER. WHY NOT ENDLESS TILL THE FARTHEST STAR? DARKLY THEY ARE THERE BEHIND THIS LIGHT, DARKNESS SHINING IN THE BRIGHTNESS, DELTA OF CASSIOPEIA, WORLDS. ME SITS THERE WITH HIS AUGUR'S ROD OF ASH, IN BORROWED SANDALS, BY DAY BESIDE A LIVID SEA, UNBEHELD, IN VIOLET NIGHT WALKING BENEATH A REIGN OF UNCOUTH STARS. I THROW THIS ENDED SHADOW FROM ME, MANSHAPE INELUCTABLE, CALL IT BACK. ENDLESS, WOULD IT BE MINE, FORM OF MY FORM? WHO WATCHES ME HERE? WHO EVER ANYWHERE WILL READ THESE WRITTEN WORDS? SIGNS ON A WHITE FIELD. SOMEWHERE TO SOMEONE IN YOUR FLUTIEST VOICE. THE GOOD BISHOP OF CLOYNE TOOK THE VEIL OF THE TEMPLE OUT OF HIS SHOVEL HAT: VEIL OF SPACE WITH COLOURED EMBLEMS HATCHED ON ITS
FIELD. HOLD HARD. COLOURED ON A FLAT: YES, THAT'S RIGHT. FLAT I SEE, THEN THINK DISTANCE, NEAR, FAR, FLAT I SEE, EAST, BACK. AH, SEE NOW! FALLS BACK SUDDENLY, FROZEN IN STEREOSCOPE. CLICK DOES THE TRICK. YOU FIND MY WORDS DARK. DARKNESS IS IN OUR SOULS DO YOU NOT THINK? FLUTIER. OUR SOULS, SHAMEWOUNDED BY OUR SINS, CLING TO US YET MORE, A WOMAN TO HER LOVER CLINGING, THE MORE THE MORE. SHE TRUSTS ME, HER HAND GENTLE, THE LONGLASHED EYES. NOW WHERE THE BLUE HELL AM I BRINGING HER BEYOND THE VEIL? INTO THE INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE INELUCTABLE VISUALITY. SHE, SHE, SHE. WHAT SHE? THE VIRGIN AT HODGES FIGGIS' WINDOW ON MONDAY LOOKING IN FOR ONE OF THE ALPHABET BOOKS YOU WERE GOING TO WRITE. KEEN GLANCE YOU GAVE HER. WRIST THROUGH THE BRAIDED JESSE OF HER SUNSHADE. SHE LIVES IN LEESON PARK WITH A GRIEF AND KICKSHAWS, A LADY OF LETTERS. TALK THAT TO SOMEONE ELSE, STEVIE: A PICKMEUP. BET SHE WEARS THOSE CURSE OF GOD STAYS SUSPENDERS AND YELLOW STOCKINGS, DARNED WITH LUMPY WOOL. TALK ABOUT APPLE DUMPLINGS, PIUTTOSTO. WHERE ARE YOUR WITS? TOUCH ME. SOFT EYES. SOFT SOFT SOFT HAND. I AM LONELY HERE. O, TOUCH ME SOON, NOW. WHAT IS THAT WORD KNOWN TO ALL MEN? I AM QUIET HERE ALONE. SAD TOO. TOUCH, TOUCH ME.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought) Bottom ¼:
THAT IS KEVIN EGAN'S MOVEMENT I MADE, NODDING FOR HIS NAP, SABBATH SLEEP. ET VIDIT DEUS. ET ERANT VALDE BONA. HLO! BONJOUR. WELCOME AS THE FLOWERS IN MAY. UNDER ITS LEAF HE WATCHED THROUGH PEACOCKTWITTERING LASHES THE SOUTHING SUN. I AM CAUGHT IN THIS BURNING SCENE. PAN'S HOUR, THE FAUNAL NOON. AMONG GUMHEAVY SERPENTPLANTS, MILKOOZING FRUITS, WHERE ON THE TAWNY WATERS LEAVES LIE WIDE. PAIN IS FAR.
STEPHEN (Final Thought) Bottom ¼:
AND NO MORE TURN ASIDE AND BROOD.
22.1 - Top 1/3 – Series of shots. “His gaze brooded on his
broadtoed boots, a buck's castoffs. He counted the creases
of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm.”
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
NEBENEINANDER. THE FOOT THAT BEAT THE GROUND IN TRIPUDIUM, FOOT I DISLOVE. BUT YOU WERE DELIGHTED WHEN ESTHER OSVALT'S SHOE WENT ON YOU: GIRL I KNEW IN PARIS. TIENS, QUEL PETIT PIED!
STEPHEN (Multi-Thought):
STAUNCH FRIEND, A BROTHER SOUL: WILDE'S LOVE THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME. HIS ARM: CRANLY'S ARM. HE NOW WILL LEAVE ME. AND THE BLAME? AS I AM. AS I AM. ALL OR NOT AT ALL.
22.2 - Bottom 2/3 – Single Shot. Top-down. Stephen pissing in the ocean. His urine forms the words below:
STEPHEN’S URINE:
IN LONG LASSOES FROM THE COCK LAKE THE WATER FLOWED FULL, COVERING GREENGOLDENLY LAGOONS OF SAND, RISING, FLOWING. MY ASHPLANT WILL FLOAT AWAY. I SHALL WAIT. NO, THEY WILL PASS ON, PASSING, CHAFING AGAINST THE LOW ROCKS, SWIRLING, PASSING. BETTER GET THIS JOB OVER QUICK. LISTEN: A FOURWORDED WAVESPEECH: SEESOO, HRSS, RSSEEISS, OOOS. VEHEMENT BREATH OF WATERS AMID SEASNAKES, REARING HORSES, ROCKS. IN CUPS OF ROCKS IT SLOPS: FLOP, SLOP, SLAP:
BOUNDED IN BARRELS. AND, SPENT, ITS SPEECH CEASES. IT FLOWS PURLING, WIDELY FLOWING, FLOATING FOAMPOOL, FLOWER UNFURLING.
23.1,2,3 – Series of shots of the weed-soaked ocean. “Under
the upswelling tide he saw the writhing weeds lift
languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their
petticoats, in whispering water swaying and upturning coy
silver fronds.”
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
DAY BY DAY: NIGHT BY NIGHT: LIFTED, FLOODED AND LET FALL. LORD, THEY ARE WEARY; AND, WHISPERED TO, THEY SIGH. SAINT AMBROSE HEARD IT, SIGH OF LEAVES AND WAVES, WAITING, AWAITING THE FULLNESS OF THEIR TIMES, DIEBUS AC NOCTIBUS INIURIAS PATIENS INGEMISCIT. TO NO END GATHERED; VAINLY THEN RELEASED, FORTHFLOWING, WENDING BACK: LOOM OF
THE MOON. WEARY TOO IN SIGHT OF LOVERS, LASCIVIOUS MEN, A NAKED WOMAN SHINING IN HER COURTS, SHE DRAWS A TOIL OF WATERS.
23.4 – Same as 23.1 except a drowned man’s head floats into the panel.
STEPHEN (Thought):
FIVE FATHOMS OUT THERE. FULL FATHOM FIVE THY FATHER LIES. AT ONE, HE SAID. FOUND DROWNED. HIGH WATER AT DUBLIN BAR. DRIVING BEFORE IT A LOOSE DRIFT OF RUBBLE, FANSHOALS OF FISHES, SILLY SHELLS.
23.5 – Still more of the drowned man and the seaweed backdrop.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A CORPSE RISING SALTWHITE FROM THE UNDERTOW, BOBBING A PACE A PACE A PORPOISE LANDWARD.
23.6 – A hand reaches down into the water to grab hold of the corpse.
STEPHEN (Thought):
THERE HE IS. HOOK IT QUICK. PULL. SUNK THOUGH HE BE BENEATH THE WATERY FLOOR. WE HAVE HIM. EASY NOW.
23.7,8,9 – First, a single picture of the corpse from up
above. Then, a series of morphing pictures that start with
God who turns to Jesus who turns into a fish that turns
into a goose that turns into a mountain of feathers. The
placement of Stephen’s thoughts should somewhat correspond
with the pictures.
STEPHEN (Multi-thought):
BAG OF CORPSEGAS SOPPING IN FOUL BRINE. A QUIVER OF INNOWS, FAT OF A SPONGY TITBIT, FLASH THROUGH THE SLITS OF HIS BUTTONED TROUSERFLY. GOD BECOMES MAN BECOMES FISH BECOMES BARNACLE GOOSE BECOMES FEATHERBED MOUNTAIN. DEAD BREATHS I LIVING BREATHE, TREAD DEAD DUST, DEVOUR A RUINOUS OFFAL FROM ALL DEAD. HAULED STARK OVER THE GUNWALE HE BREATHES UPWARD THE STENCH OF HIS GREEN GRAVE, HIS LEPROUS NOSEHOLE SNORING TO THE SUN.
24.1 – Corpse lying on the beach, sunlight bearing down.
STEPHEN (Thought):
A SEACHANGE THIS, BROWN EYES SALTBLUE. SEADEATH, MILDEST OF ALL DEATHS KNOWN TO MAN. OLD FATHER OCEAN. PRIX DE PARIS: BEWARE OF IMITATIONS. JUST YOU GIVE IT A FAIR TRIAL. WE ENJOYED OURSELVES IMMENSELY.
24.2 – A dark cloud passes over the sun.
STEPHEN (Thought):
COME. I THIRST. CLOUDING OVER. NO BLACK CLOUDS ANYWHERE, ARE THERE? THUNDERSTORM.
24.3 –
STEPHEN (Thought):
ALLBRIGHT HE FALLS, PROUD LIGHTNING OF THE INTELLECT, LUCIFER, DICO, QUI NESCIT OCCASUM. NO. MY COCKLE HAT AND STAFF AND HISMY SANDAL SHOON. WHERE? TO EVENING LANDS. EVENING WILL FIND ITSELF.
24.4 – “He took the hilt of his ashplant, lunging with it
STEPHEN (Thought):
YES, EVENING WILL FIND ITSELF IN ME, WITHOUT ME. ALL DAYS MAKE THEIR END. BY THE WAY NEXT WHEN IS IT TUESDAY WILL BE THE LONGEST DAY. OF ALL THE GLAD NEW YEAR, MOTHER, THE RUM TUM TIDDLEDY TUM.
24.5 – Portrait painting of Queen Victoria, except she’s a nasty looking, yellow-toothed crone. She should be smiling in the portrait and trying to look regal despite her physical shortcomings.
STEPHEN (Thought):
LAWN TENNYSON, GENTLEMAN POET. GIÀ. FOR THE OLD HAG WITH THE YELLOW TEETH. AND MONSIEUR DRUMONT, GENTLEMAN JOURNALIST. GIÀ.
24.6 – POV looks as though we are inside a cavern. We are
inside of Stephen’s mouth, looking at the light through
his parted lips. His teeth, stalactites and stalagmites,
are made of shell.
STEPHEN (Thought):
MY TEETH ARE VERY BAD. WHY, I WONDER. FEEL. THAT ONE IS GOING TOO. SHELLS. OUGHT I GO TO A DENTIST, I WONDER, WITH THAT MONEY? THAT ONE. THIS. TOOTHLESS KINCH, THE SUPERMAN. WHY IS THAT, I WONDER, OR DOES IT MEAN SOMETHING PERHAPS?
24.7 – “His hand groped vainly in his pockets.”
STEPHEN (Thought):
MY HANDKERCHIEF. HE THREW IT. I REMEMBER. DID I NOT TAKE IT UP? NO, I DIDN'T. BETTER BUY ONE.
24.8 – “He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on a
ledge of rock, carefully.”
STEPHEN (Thought):
FOR THE REST LET LOOK WHO WILL.
24.9 – “He turned his face over a shoulder, rere regardant.
Moving through the air high spars of a threemaster, her
sails brailed up on the crosstrees, homing, upstream,
silently moving, a silent ship.” Parting shot. We finally
see Stephen’s entire face and it is turned over one of his
shoulders. In his eyes are reflected a ship on the water.
The ship has three masts (like three crosses).
STEPHEN (Thought):
BEHIND. PERHAPS THERE IS SOMEONE.
End Notes:
This work leaves a lot to be desired. It’s an adaptation, a translation, and an interpretation. I’m uncertain whether someone unfamiliar with the novel would get anything from the comic book. I also think there may be too much text to incorporate into a 24-page comic book. Splitting the chapter into two parts might serve the text and the reader better.
Having said all that, I think this work has merit too. The script plays with Joyce’s visuals and explores Stephen’s memories in a way that Joyce only hints at (Stephen remembering conversations as an example). The script risks alienating the reader (and perhaps even the artist) in the hope of doing justice to Joyce. The script doesn’t necessarily clarify what’s going on in the text. Neither does it muddle the text. In that, I think it is a success.