I’ll check the Ellmann tomorrow when I’m in my office! I honestly can’t remember. But still, must’ve been one hell of a handjob. After all, it’s not as if JJ was completely inexperienced, what with the Dublin brothels and the like.
Not to bring the Wrath of Little Stephen upon us, but the revelation of June 16 would not have been the sensation of hand-on-knob but the existence of a young Irish woman who was interested, straight-talking, fast-walking, and not a prostitute. What burned (in a good way) seems to have been her keeping true to a last-chance assignation, no matter what particular form of consummation might have taken place there — the unexpected unconventional humanity of it.
The brothel / vs. not brothel issue, too, of course you have right. But then again, the fact that this event has gone down in history is indicative of a sort of shockingly stark divide that, well, of course we would imagine was the case, but this does bring home the starkness…
Not to pour the master’s dirt back on the master, but you guys know the thing about the complete correspondence vs. the incomplete correspondence, right? I had a professor photocopy for all of us the expurgated bits that aren’t in my copy of the letters. Still not sure exactly why he did so. But, well, is interesting.
Oh, glibness is a sane reaction to crazy search queries. I was just working out a bit of guilt over last week’s business trip interfering with my intended Bloomsday post.
Although I don’t think the filthy parts of Joyce’s letters hold more inherent interest than the financial parts of Joyce’s letters (i.e., not much), both sides usefully correct the early tendency to treat him as pure satirist: like some other favorite writers, he genuinely loved dirt; dirt moved him. It’s also reminds us that it used to be difficult for a writer to draw upon sexual experiences other than his or her own. Pace Wyndham Lewis (yeah, good luck with that), Joyce tried to make Bloom a not-Joyce and therefore the not-Stephen, but here he inadvertently created a link between them all.
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That’s a myth though innit? Happened weeks later or summin?
davidaa
June 18, 2010 at 4:23 pm
I’ll check the Ellmann tomorrow when I’m in my office! I honestly can’t remember. But still, must’ve been one hell of a handjob. After all, it’s not as if JJ was completely inexperienced, what with the Dublin brothels and the like.
adswithoutproducts
June 19, 2010 at 9:04 pm
Not to bring the Wrath of Little Stephen upon us, but the revelation of June 16 would not have been the sensation of hand-on-knob but the existence of a young Irish woman who was interested, straight-talking, fast-walking, and not a prostitute. What burned (in a good way) seems to have been her keeping true to a last-chance assignation, no matter what particular form of consummation might have taken place there — the unexpected unconventional humanity of it.
Ray Davis
June 20, 2010 at 9:05 pm
Ray,
Totally agree with all of this. Sorry if I sounded glib about it all…
adswithoutproducts
June 20, 2010 at 11:49 pm
The brothel / vs. not brothel issue, too, of course you have right. But then again, the fact that this event has gone down in history is indicative of a sort of shockingly stark divide that, well, of course we would imagine was the case, but this does bring home the starkness…
Not to pour the master’s dirt back on the master, but you guys know the thing about the complete correspondence vs. the incomplete correspondence, right? I had a professor photocopy for all of us the expurgated bits that aren’t in my copy of the letters. Still not sure exactly why he did so. But, well, is interesting.
adswithoutproducts
June 20, 2010 at 11:53 pm
Oh, glibness is a sane reaction to crazy search queries. I was just working out a bit of guilt over last week’s business trip interfering with my intended Bloomsday post.
Although I don’t think the filthy parts of Joyce’s letters hold more inherent interest than the financial parts of Joyce’s letters (i.e., not much), both sides usefully correct the early tendency to treat him as pure satirist: like some other favorite writers, he genuinely loved dirt; dirt moved him. It’s also reminds us that it used to be difficult for a writer to draw upon sexual experiences other than his or her own. Pace Wyndham Lewis (yeah, good luck with that), Joyce tried to make Bloom a not-Joyce and therefore the not-Stephen, but here he inadvertently created a link between them all.
Ray Davis
June 21, 2010 at 3:06 pm