Finnegans Wake

“A baser meaning has been read into these characters the literal sense of which decency can safely scarcely hint.”

The characters’ descriptions and their roles in the novel are playfully ironic. Characters such as HCE and his family are so smothered in literary figurative language, in which they become other characters and historical figures at regular intervals, that trying to form a “baser meaning” or a “literal sense of decency” (33) regarding anything in the novel is almost impossible. In fact, the novel “can safely scarcely hint” (33) at the true depth and nuance in the narrative subtext.

“And not all the king’s men nor his horses / Will resurrect his corpus.”

The story of HCE’s crime becomes a local legend. It grows from a rumor to a gossip item to a folksong to a myth. Part of this mythmaking process is blending his story with existing stories, such as the children’s tale Humpty Dumpty. HCE is and always has been a mythical figure, but the layers of his identity are so tightly folded on top of one another that he becomes indistinguishable from his various identities; he is HCE, he is Humpty Dumpty, and he is everyone else as well. No one, not even the king’s men and their horses, can separate HCE from these alternative identities.

“Words weigh no no more to him than raindrips to Rethfemhim.”

The weight of words is said to be slight and small, meaning nothing to the characters, but the words used in Finnegans Wake have a unique weight. The thunderwords Joyce created for the novel are 100-letter-long inventions designed to impose themselves on the narrative in a disruptive sense. Some words may not mean more than raindrops to the Rethfemhim, but how the novel uses words illustrates that any word—even one invented, misspelled, or half-finished—has importance, meaning, and weight.

“But the past has made us this present of a rhedarhoad.”

In this context, the word “rhedarhoad” refers to a type of carriage. The implication is that the weight of the past is a burden carried slowly by people as they progress through their lives. The past and the present overlap, becoming the cart’s contents, while the individual drags everything forward along the road toward the future.

“The original document was in what is known as Hanno O’Nonhanno’s unbrookable script, that is to say, it showed no signs of punctuation of any sort.”

In describing ALP’s letter, the novel takes on an academic tone. The use of academic language is a flawed attempt to find meaning in a human and deeply personal text, creating an emotional distance between the person analyzing the letter and the letter itself. The academic criticisms become ironically nonsensical, critiquing the lack of punctuation, for example, rather than the sincere emotional contents of the letter. The critique of the punctuation is especially ironic in the context of the novel itself, which takes an experimental approach to deploying punctuation in the traditional manner. By critiquing form rather than content, the academic perspective deliberately ignores the actual humanity of ALP’s words out of an inherent fear of sincere emotion in a numb, alienated world.

“The speechform is a mere sorrogate.”

The use of speech and language in Finnegans Wake is an attempt to explore the spaces between dreams and reality, places that are not beholden to the traditional rules and expectations of language or “speechform” (149). As such, this experimental approach to language functions as a surrogate means of describing such a space. The use of language is an expression, as well as the meaning that the language conveys. Puns such as combining surrogate and sorrow add additional meaning to the expressive, experimental language, hinting at the dismay at the limitations of traditional language when exploring such spaces.

“Shem is as short for Shemus as Jem is joky for Jacob.”

Throughout the novel, the characters take on many different identities. Shem becomes the grasshopper, for example, while his brother Shaun becomes the ant. In addition, however, the two brothers are two parts of the same whole. Their identities blur together through names, nicknames, titles, dialogues, arguments, and interactions. This “joky” (169), humorous approach to naming and describing the characters blurs their identities together, illustrating how they combine to form a unified, complex identity rather than simply existing as individuals.

“The shuddersome spectacle of this semidemented zany amid the inspissated grime of his glaucous den making believe to read his usylessly unreadable Blue Book of Eccles.”

Joyce reflects on his own work and his role in Irish history, feeling the stinging criticism of the “unreadable Blue Book of Eccles” (179), which is a reference to his novel Ulysses. Likewise, the name Ulysses and the words usually or useless are combined to become “usylessly” (179) to provide a self-aware criticism of the nature of Joyce’s work. Ulysses as a novel also becomes the Book of Eccles, a reference to Ecclesiastes, a book in the Bible, and Eccles, a place and a confectionary item. Joyce is mocking himself and his style but doing so in the same “unreadable” (179) and deeply complex manner that has made his work so famous.

“Tell me all. Tell me now. You’ll die when you hear.”

The characters in Finnegans Wake are caught in a cycle of death and rebirth. They are trapped in stories and myths repeated throughout history and perpetuated through their telling. They want to tell every story, and they want to tell these stories immediately, even though the sharing of said stories perpetuates the cycle of death and rebirth. The characters are killed but also reborn, meaning that the two washerwomen are killing and revitalizing the characters at the same time. The three short sentences function as a description of the structure of the novel.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night!”

Despite the cyclical nature of existence as described in the novel, the characters cannot escape the myths and stories they tell each other. They want to be told stories and demand to be told stories, as this is how they perceive and experience life. Just as the opening and closing lines of the novel create a perfect loop, the washerwomen’s call to be told everything forms a similar, smaller-scale function in Chapter 8.

“Time: the pressant.”

The use of incorrect spellings of words throughout Finnegans Wake deliberately draws attention to subtle interrogations of themes. The above quote establishes the time as the present but, in doing so, spells “pressant” (221) incorrectly. The nature of time is a subjective experience, not bound to traditional ideas and expectations. Similarly, the additional “s” in present draws out the sense of the immediate moment, illustrating how HCE’s dream drags on in an infinite, all-consuming manner. Even the use of the word ‘ant’ within “pressant” (221) foreshadows the story Shaun tells later in the novel, in which he (as an ant) refuses to enjoy the present and looks only toward the future.

“Lukkedoerendunandurraskewdylooshoofermoyportertooryzooysphalnabortansporthaokansakroidverjkapakkapuk.”

Throughout Finnegans Wake, Joyce introduces a series of so-called thunderwords. Each of these thunderwords is exactly 100 letters long and made up of guttural sounds and words crushed together. These thunderwords are distant, powerful rumblings, a more archaic and primordial form of language which is not yet as distinct and defined. The power of the thunderwords is shown in the way they can disrupt the narrative, ending certain sections and refocusing the characters’ attentions in an entirely new place.

“But, to speak broken heaventalk, is he? Who is he? Whose is he? Why is he? Howmuch is he? Which is he? When is he? Where is he? How is he?”

The identities of the characters are an important theme throughout the novel. Questions such as who or where are helpful to locate the characters, but the questions do not end there. The questions become more abstract, asking how or why or when. Characters in Finnegans Wake are not limited to a single time or place, just as they are not limited to a single identity. As such, simple questions such as who, when, or how seem impossibly limited, demonstrating why the novel’s prose must break free from traditional language to truly describe the characters.

“Bet you fippence, anythesious, there’s no purgatory, are yous game?”

In the margin of a schoolbook, Shaun goads his brother. While Shem focuses on his studies and engages with the text, Shaun is keen to elicit a reaction from Shem. He uses religion as a tool, asking metaphysical questions to Shem to force Shem into answering, not because Shaun is genuinely interested. He turns religion and the afterlife into a game, twisting many of the most philosophical questions about existence into another way to triumph over his brother. Shaun’s margin notes reveal that beating Shem means more to him than anything else.

“It may not or maybe a no concern of the Guinnesses but.”

Chapter 3 of Part 2 lays the foundation for a scene that will take place in a pub. The bar patrons are drunk, having consumed many “Guinnesses” (309) throughout the evening. They tell stories to one another, and, in a drunken fashion, these stories overlap and intertwine and blur into a single story, just like the portrayal of HCE in the novel. Likewise, the opening sentence of the chapter encapsulates this style, referring to an undefined “it” (309) while ending abruptly midsentence, as though the speaker has lost their train of thought.

“This is not the end of this by no manners means.”

The scene in the pub mirrors the scene between the two washerwomen, in which the men who are drunk show that they are just as beholden to gossip and stories as their female counterparts. There is no “end” (373) to their storytelling as they—just like everyone else—are propelled relentlessly into the future by myths, stories, gossip, history, and stories. They, like everyone else, are caught in the cycles and loops which define the novel.

“They were the big four, the four maaster waves of Erin, all listening, four.”

The four elderly judges—like so many characters—take on different identities throughout the novel. However, they are distinct because they are always represented as a group. They are less a collection of characters than a single unit that functions as a universal constant. They are described as waves and winds, for example, as well as the cardinal points on a compass. At one point, they become the four posts of a bed. They are a part of the landscape and the world itself, existing to observe and judge HCE, allowing the cycle of the story to continue in perpetuity.

“And low stole o’er the stillness the heartbeats of sleep.”

The narrative of Finnegans Wake takes place in a liminal space between dreams and waking life. The dreamworld, importantly, has a unique vitality. The “heartbeats of sleep” (403) are felt throughout the novel, as the world becomes a lively, organic, and complicated place. The living nature of the dream helps to add to its authenticity: the dream does not vanish when HCE wakes, but continues on, propelled forward by its own life.

“The hundredlettered name again, last word of perfect language.”

The use of thunderwords in Finnegans Wake illustrates how primordial, domineering language can obliterate traditional narratives and meaning. These “hundredlettered” (424) words are described as the “last word of perfect language” (424) as they contain within them a unique power and potency that cannot be matched by traditional, understandable language. The thunderwords are powerful precisely because they are unwieldy and unexpected, forcing readers to rethink how they understand language and words.

“Now? Dear Sister, in perfect leave again I say take a brokerly advice and keep it to yourself that we, Jaun, first of our name here now make all receptacles of, free of price.”

Shaun refers to himself with a collective pronoun, subtly recalling his accumulation of identities throughout the novel. When he calls himself “we” (439), however, he also acknowledges his incestuous feelings toward his sister Isabel; he is trying to unconsciously distance himself from his identity as her brother and become someone else, someone for whom such an attraction is not considered taboo.

“Mattahah! Marahah! Luahah! Joahanahanahana!”

At the end of Chapter 3, the four elderly judges are addressed by their biblical names. The four writers of the gospels—Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John—are also the four judges. However, the names of the gospel writers are not expressed in their traditional manner. The use of invented words to refer to these names illustrates the complicated nature of identity. Names such as Mathew and Mark are anglicized versions of Biblical names taken from languages such as Aramaic and Greek. The name Mathew is as far removed from the actual, original name of the gospel writer as “Mattahah” (554). As such, the judges are Mattahah and Mathew and everyone else all at the same time.

“Retire to rest without first misturbing your nighboor, mankind of baffiing descriptions.”

Faced with a difficult moment, the best advice for people in situations like HCE seems to be to “retire to rest” (585) without disturbing anyone else. However, in the context of the novel, retiring to rest has an additional meaning. Returning to rest is to return to the dreamworld, to willingly embrace the tension between waking and dreaming lives. The advice is not to drift into unconsciousness but to engage with the different forms of consciousness that sleep and dreams provide.

“Past now pulls.”

The short, three-word sentence “past now pulls” (594) is a brief summation of many of the themes of Finnegans Wake. HCE feels the constant pull of the past on his present life, feeling the weight of history and the culmination of thousands of years of storytelling as it alters and reforms his identity. The past strongly affects the now, dragging people back as they try to push into the unknown future.