FINNEGANS WAKE

Protodrafts

2nd fair copy, June 1924, §1D draft level 3

MS British Library 47482b 40-45r Draft details

{ms, 041}

— Now could you, of course, decent Shaun, we knew, while still in the barrel, read the strangewritten Shem language of those |3open letter letters patent3| to His Em?

— Read! Shaun replied. I |3could am |amosta| potent to3| play it backwards like anything with my eyes shut and all. But it is awful bad on the hand. As far as that goes I associate myself with your remarks just now and quite agree in your description |3for indeed it is not a nice production3|. It is a pinch of scribble. |3Nothing |abut beyonda| clerical errors |aet omnia |band it is entered as secondclass matterb|a|.3| Flummery is what I would call it if you were to ask me |3my what3| pronounced |3opinion opinions3| |3I might have3| about them bagses of trash which the mother and Mr Shem has reduced to writing. A child sail An infant sailing eggshells on the floor of a wet day would have more sabby.
{ms, 042}

Letter, carried by Shaun, son of Hek, written by Shem, brother of Shaun, for Alp, mother of Shem, about Hek, father of Shaun.

— Kind Shaun, we all requested, |3|amuch as wea| we hate to say it but3| since you came to the use of language have you not, without suggesting for an instant, millions of times used language ten times as worse as the slanguage used up by your celebrated brother Shem?

— Celebrated? Shaun replied. Notorious I rather would feel inclined in myself in the first place to describe |3him Mr Shem3| as |3should I be called upon to pass any opinion3|. But I would not like to be so insulting to my own self as to swear just for the moment positively as to the other but let me say my belief before my God is that I much doubt it. She, the mother, was put up to it by him, the iniquity, that ought to be placed in irons into some institution for such matters if he could pass the panel doctor |3for it is well celebrated that he has consumption on the premises3|. Rot him! Flannelfeet! |3|aHomo!a| |aIs he on my keeping or are my?a| With his prince of the apauper's pride!3| He's no cousin of mine. Nor wants to.

— May we petition you, clean Shaun |3man of letters3|, to unravel in your own words to your very humble and yours most respectfully, we suggested, as to how?

— You may and welcome, Shaun replied. |3Sure, I thought you knew about that long ago. Sure that's as wellknown as Nelson his pillar.3| For three days she kept howling and bawling and him narrating to the pen with a his hiccup. |3I gave him that too &3| It was entirely the latter to blame. It was given me to assist at the whole business by |3special3| grace. |3As often as I think of that Shem I |adeclare Ia| get the jawache.3| They lasted fourteen hours.
{ms, 043}

— But for what, Shaun of grace,? we asked. Vouchsafe to say. |3You will now, won't you?3|

— For his language, Shaun replied, which he put inside his letter.

— But you could come near it, we suppose, strong Shaun, we supposed.

— No-one could, Shaun replied, as I have before said |3only you missed my drift3| for it's being incendiary.

— Still in a way, we fancy, you that are so brainy |3and well lettered3| in yourself could use worse yourself, ingenious Shaun, we still fancied, if only you would take the trouble of so doing it.

Undoube Undoubtedly but that is show, Shaun replied, and by the powers of war I could do it any time ever I liked as, you see, |3it is an open secret how3| I am extremely ingenious |3at the clerking3| even with my left hand and as easy as a keg of beer and it would far exceed what that bogus bolshy of a Shem|3, my soamheis brother,3| is conversant with and one of those fine days I will be moved to do it just like a work of merit, mark my words, that will open your eye for you, brother boor, only for as an amateur and a hundred and one other things I would never for anything take so much trouble of so doing. And why so? Because I am altogether a chap too fly and hairy for to do the like of that. And by all I hold sacred I swear to you on my pipe and oath by the |3name awe3| of Shaun |3(and that's a hell of a name!)3| that I will |3commit commission3| to the flames any incendiarist whosoever who would endeavour to set
{ms, 044}
to set |3ever3| a mother of mine on fire. I will soho.

And big hottempered husky |3pugiliser3| such as he was he all but broke down |3over it overpowered by himself3| for, sure, he was the soft |3slob3| of the world |3|a& as innocent as the freshfallen calfa| |aonly stilla| he laughed it off|a|b, gulping apologetically with a gulp apologeticb|a| for, postman that he was, Shaun was also a blank3|. Mind youº that he was in the dumpest of earnestº orthough him jawr war hoo hleepy hor halk urthing further. Like that only he stopped short and in looking up upon the heavens as they were to feel out what age he might find by Charles' Wain|3, his thumbs fell into his fists as3| he overbalanced by the mighty fine weight of the barrel and, as the wisest course he could take, collapsed together and rolled |3buoyantly3| backwards in half a twinkling via Rattigan's corner out of further earshot with his highly curious mode of slipashod motion a fairish and easy way enough behind the times in the direction of MacAuliffe's, the crucet house, before he was really uprighted.

Well, it is to be regretted that thou art passing hence, |3dear able3| Shaun, from carnal relations and familiar faces, more is the pity, but for all your deeds of goodness |3you were forever doing3|, as our humbler classes |3whose favourite virtue is humility3| can tell, it is hardly we can part you |3for you were the walking saint, you were3|. Musha, be thinking of us sometime or other |3whenever any time you3| you find time. And may the moss of prosperousness gather you rolling home! May foggy dews bediamondise your hooprings! May the fireplug of filiality reinsure your bunghole! |3May the barleywind |abehinda| glow luck to your bathershins.3| 'Tis well we know you were loth
{ms, 045}
to leave us, winding your hobbledehorn, right royal post, but sure, pulse of our slumber, you will round up some boxing day or other |3like the good man you are3| with your pockets turned inside out |3for |amore fresha| remittances3| and from that till this in any case may the grass grow quickly under your feet and the daisies trip lightly over your |3toes toetops3|!º