H.C. Earwicker and the Sailor King

“We are told how in the beginning it came to pass that like cabbaging Cincinnatus the grand old gardener was saving daylight under his redwoodtree one sultry sabbath afternoon, Hag Chivychas Eve, in prefall paradise peace by following his plough for rootles in the rere garden of mobhouse, ye olde marine hotel, when royalty was announced by runner to have been pleased to have halted itself on the highroad along which a leisureloving dogfox had cast followed, also at walking pace, by a lady pack of cocker spaniels.” FW: 30 11-19

The encounter between H.C. Earwicker (HCE) and "the Sailor King" is a pivotal moment that contributes to the intricate tapestry of themes and motifs in the novel. Set at the beginning of chapter two, the reader is introduced to HCE, the landlord of a pub called The Mullingar House, located in Chapelizod. HCE gets his name from an amusing incident that took place while he was tending his garden.

As HCE diligently tended to his cabbages in his garden he found himself plagued by earwigs.  In an unexpected encounter, a character referred to as "the Sailor King" stumbles upon HCE in his garden, observing him carefully plucking the earwigs off his crops. Filled with amusement at the sight, "the Sailor King" spontaneously decides to nickname him an "earwigger" due to his peculiar activity.

This encounter proves to be significant in shaping HCE's identity and subsequent name, which evolves into Earwicker, reflecting the whimsical nature of wordplay and transformation that is prevalent throughout the novel.

The background illustration for this chapter is based on an OSI historic map, depicting Chapelizod and The Mullingar House pub, which has a rich history as a coaching inn, serving food and drink for over three centuries.

Throughout "Finnegans Wake," recurring motifs such as oranges on the green ("Iris Trees and Lili O'Rangans") and the hunter and prey dynamic come into play, adding layers of complexity to the narrative. Additionally, HCE's seven items of clothing, introduced earlier in the novel, resurface, providing continuity in the constantly shifting narrative.

Joyce's masterful storytelling weaves together these various elements, creating a dense and labyrinthine narrative where the tale of HCE and the Sailor King represents only one of many interconnected threads. "Finnegans Wake" is a rich tapestry of language, history, and myth, retelling itself endlessly, and never repeating exactly, making it a unique and challenging literary work for readers to explore and interpret.

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Page 24: Now be aisy, good Mr Finnimore, sir.

"Now be aisy, good Mr Finnimore, sir. And take your laysure like a god on pension and don't be walking abroad. Sure you'donly lose yourself in Healiopolis now the way your roads in Kapelavaster are that winding there after the calvary, the North Umbrian and the Fivs Barrow and Waddlings Raid and the Bower Moore and wet your feet maybe with the foggy dew's abroad." (FW.24 16-22)

As the company utters "Usqueadbaugham" (Uisce Beatha, or whiskey), Finnegan wakes, just as he does in the ballad when the fight at his wake causes a bucket of whiskey to spill over the bed in which he lays. Heliopolis, in which the company warns Finn that he'll lose himself if he stirs, is the “place of the pillars” in lower Egypt, where a temple, the Mansion of Benben (also known as the Mansion of the Phoenix) was located. Famed for its obelisk, it is not only in one of its names that the city bears a resemblance to the famous Dublin park with which HCE is associated. Atum, for whom the obelisk was built, created himself out of the primeval waters; likewise, we see Dublin form itself out of the Liffey at many points in the text. In this painting, Finnegan (who may look familiar to some of you) is seen with the Bennu bird (the Egyptian equivalent to the Phoenix, and a symbol of Atum) on a funeral boat to the afterlife. Since the Bennu bird is associated with rebirth, the image suggests that Finnegan will rise again. The funeral boat depicted is based on Khufu ship (image in the comments) was discovered in the Giza pyramid complex. It was probably built for the King Khufu about 2500 BCE. It was sealed into a pit and in 1954 was rediscovered by the archaeologist Kamal el-Mallakh. It is thought that it was a ritual vessel which was supposed to carry the resurrected king along with the sun god Ra across the heavens. Once again, the passage urges us to reflect on history, memory, and the relationship of the present to the past. It is probably no coincidence that Heliopolis was highly regarded a site where important historical events were recorded and preserved. Take a look back and see if you can find sun references in the previous pages. There will be many in books to come, and Joyce will play on the son/sun homophones.

The usage of "Usqueadbaugham" as a reference to "Uisce Beatha" (whiskey) and its association with Finnegan waking up in the ballad reinforces the cyclical nature of the narrative, where events and themes repeat and resonate throughout the book.

The connection to Heliopolis, the "place of the pillars" in Egypt, and its association with the "Mansion of the Phoenix" further emphasizes the theme of rebirth and resurrection, which ties in with the image of Finnegan with the Bennu bird (Egyptian Phoenix) on a funeral boat to the afterlife. This imagery suggests that despite Finnegan's death, there is a potential for him to rise again, just like the Bennu bird, which symbolizes renewal and regeneration.

The use of the Khufu ship, a ritual vessel for carrying the resurrected king and the sun god Ra across the heavens, adds to the themes of cyclical time and the eternal return that are prevalent in "Finnegans Wake." Joyce often weaves various historical, mythological, and religious references into his work, creating a rich tapestry of symbolism and meaning.

The mention of Dublin forming itself out of the Liffey, the river that flows through the city, also connects to the theme of cyclical nature and renewal. Rivers are often associated with the passage of time and the continuity of life, reflecting the idea that life and history are constantly flowing and repeating.

As suggested in the passage, there are likely sun references scattered throughout the text, and Joyce may play on the homophones "son" and "sun" to add further layers of meaning and wordplay. Such thematic intricacies are characteristic of Joyce's writing style and encourage readers to delve deeper into the text and explore the connections between history, memory, and the present. "Finnegans Wake" is known for its complex and multi-layered narrative, inviting readers to engage in a process of interpretation and analysis to uncover its many hidden meanings and allusions.

Page 21:The Prankquean

It was of a night, late, lang time agone, in an auldstane eld,
when Adam was delvin and his madameen spinning watersilts,
when mulk mountynotty man was everybully and the first leal
ribberrobber that ever had her ainway everybuddy to his love-
saking eyes and everybilly lived alove with everybiddy else, and
Jarl van Hoother had his burnt head high up in his lamphouse,
laying cold hands on himself. And his two little jiminies, cousins
of ourn, Tristopher and Hilary, were kickaheeling their dummy
on the oil cloth flure of his homerigh, castle and earthenhouse.
And, be dermot, who come to the keep of his inn only the niece-
of-his-in-law, the prankquean.

Grace O'Malley, also known as Grainne Mhaol, was a remarkable sixteenth-century Irish pirate who commanded the seas with her fleet of ships, imposing taxes on those she encountered. Her exploits brought her immense wealth, enabling her to construct fortified castles along the western coast of Ireland to safeguard her possessions. Among these legendary tales, one stands out, chronicling her encounter with the Lord of Howth, or Jarl van Hoother in the Wake. .

The enthralling story begins on page 21, where Grace O'Malley seeks refuge in Howth Castle and requests shelter for the night. However, her plea is met with a dismissive response, as the family is engrossed in their dinner and declines her entry. Undeterred and unwilling to accept a snub, Grace takes matters into her own hands. She boldly kidnaps the heir of the Howth family and brings him back to her domain in the West of Ireland.

To secure the safe return of the young heir, Grace makes a demand, one that would leave a lasting legacy on Howth Castle for generations to come. She insists that the gates of the castle should never again close at dinner hour and that a place should always be set at the table for any unexpected guest. This act of hospitality would ensure that no one would ever be turned away, and that the spirit of welcome and open-heartedness would forever be upheld in the castle.

This tradition, born from Grace O'Malley's daring escapade, endures to this day. The gates of Howth Castle remain open, and a place is always laid at the table for any unforeseen visitor, preserving the spirit of generosity and warmth that Grainne Mhaol epitomized.

The illustration, inspired by a visit to Grainne Mhaol's castle on Achill Island, showcases the towering structure that stands 12 meters high, strategically positioned overlooking Achill Sound. This vantage point was crucial for protecting Clew Bay and its surrounding areas. These traditional Irish tower houses, such as the one on Achill Island, often became integral parts of more extensive and opulent castles built in later periods.

In this captivating narrative of bravery and reciprocity, Grace O'Malley's encounter with the Lord of Howth becomes a defining moment in Irish history. Her audacious actions and the enduring tradition she established at Howth Castle continue to inspire and captivate visitors and admirers to this day, keeping her legendary spirit alive in the hearts of many..

Page 20: Tim, Nick and Larry

"Cry not yet! There's many a smile to Nondum, with sytty 
maids per man, sir, and the park's so dark by kindlelight. But
look what you have in your handself! The movibles are scrawl-
ing in motions, marching, all of them ago, in pitpat and zingzang
for every busy eerie whig's a bit of a torytale to tell. One's upon
a thyme and two's behind their lettice leap and three's among the
strubbely beds. And the chicks picked their teeths and the domb-
key he begay began. You can ask your ass if he believes it..."

The illustration depicts two girls, ALP (Anna Livia Plurabelle) and HCE's (Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker) daughter Issy, along with her reflection. They are observed by the three soldiers, representing their sons Shem and Shaun, and their unified nature known as Shemshaun. This scene is symbolic and timeless, representing the conflict and unity of generations.

ALP, referred to as Nan, is portrayed as the mother of the text, symbolising the life force and unifying energy of the Wake. Like a river flowing into the sea, she encompasses all waters, washing away and preserving all of history. She is eternal and mutable, and the Wake makes readers aware of their own connection to history and experiences.

The writing depicted in the claybook encompasses all forms of writing throughout time. The carvings on the passage tombs, like those on kerbstone 52 of the Newgrange passage tomb, represent the beginnings of writing and are approximately 5,000 years old, contemporaneous with Egyptian hieroglyphs.

At the end of the passage, Joyce cautions readers not to become overly preoccupied with deciphering every detail of the text. The name "Doublends Jined" refers to Dublin's Giant, Finn or HCE. In terms of reading The Wake, the two ends that can be joined signify the circularity of the narrative. Joyce encourages readers to embrace the circular nature of the Wake, acknowledging that it may not be fully decipherable in a linear sense, and allowing the text's complexities to resonate with their own experiential frameworks.

Overall, this passage delves into the depth and complexity of Finnegans Wake's narrative, its connections to history, and its circular nature that invites readers to explore and interpret the text in their own unique ways.

Page 19 What a mnice old mness it all mnakes! A middenhide hoard of objects"

"Here (please to stoop) are selveran cued peteet peas of
quite a pecuniar interest inaslittle as they are the pellets that makethe tomtummy's pay roll. Right rank ragnar rocks and with these
rox orangotangos rangled rough and rightgorong. Wisha, wisha,
whydidtha? Thik is for thorn that's thuck in its thoil like thum-
fool's thraitor thrust for vengeance. What a mnice old mness it
all mnakes! A middenhide hoard of objects"

Here, if we continue, like the hen to stoop and scratch about the midden of the text, we will surely be able to find treasure. The use of alliteration on page 19 conjures up images of letters repeating themselves in various forms from Germanic Runes to Egyption Hieroglyphs. I visualised the midden as being like a Neolithic shell midden by a beach, with myriad shells within its layers. In this illustration, the crosssection of the midden that represents page 18 reveals a glimpse of ancient letters within its strata. The layers are roughly marked out on the left with ancient Irish numbers, while partially hidden within the jumble of letters are the hero and heroine of Finnegans Wake and with a major theme of the Wake itself--the stages of life--in hieroglyphs. I was thinking about how texts in early manuscripts were often embellished in gold to signify and ameliorate their value and importance. I added gold to the midden itself instead of applying it to the treasures that are the letters contained within it in order to symbolise the importance of the personal excavation of Finnegans Wake. After all, the most valuable way to experience the Wake is not through the words on the page but through what we do with them.

The imperatives "please to stoop" and "O stoop to please!" are repetition of a request previously made on page 19, and it can be read as a response to our reluctance as readers to burrow into the midden.

Trace this passage to find how Joyce begins to lay out hints as to what he's doing to with the language of the Wake: various letters from the English alphabet in its present state ("peas" and "cued") to its historic past ("thorn", or þ, an Old English letter form), from Greek or Hebrew ("alfrids, beatties, cormacks and daltons" as alpha, beta, gamma delta or aleph, bet, gimel, dalet) to German ("eegs", "epsilene"--also a Greek letter, but in its closeness to the German sounding "eegs", it makes sense to read it as German). See what other letter names you can find. This unearthing of language fragments and patterns is what the reader who approaches Finnegans Wake begins to undertake, but those patterns shift, and the fragments appear different in the light than they often did in situ in the midden.

You may be able to detect particular linguistic patterns now. "What a meanderthalltale to unfurl" resonates with Jute's "What a hauhauhauhaudibble thing, to be cause!" that we heard on page 16. You can also see the Tom, Dick, and Harry motif with "every tim, nick and larry of us"; we previously met them as "Touchole Fitz Tuomush. Dirty MacDyke. And Hairy O'Hurry." on page 8.

Page 16

"Come on, fool porterfull, hosiered
women blown monk sewer? Scuse us, chorley guy! You toller-
day donsk? N. You tolkatiff scowegian? Nn. You spigotty an-
glease? Nnn. You phonio saxo? Nnnn. Clear all so! 'Tis a Jute.
Let us swop hats and excheck a few strong verbs weak oach ea-
ther yapyazzard abast the blooty creeks."

I had a lot of fun with this section, as the dialogue has echoes of the kind of slapstick comedy that we see in early cinema. The interactions between Mutt and Jute also remind us of the early twentieth-century comic strip, Mutt and Jeff, published first in the San Francisco Chronicle. This passage also echoes Samuel Beckett's (later) absurdist Waiting for Godot (another circular text), in which Vladimir and Estragon are practically indistinguishable and utterly inseparable from each other. Vladimir and Estragon's hat-swapping scene is likely influenced by the use of that trope in early cinema: Laurel and Hardy's "Do Detectives Think?" (1927), and the Marx Bros'"Duck Soup" (1933) both feature hat-swapping scenes.

Joyce was instrumental in setting up the first Irish picture house, the Volta, in Dublin in 1910, at the time that he was writing Finnegans Wake. But unfortunately, the films that were shown were in Italian and other foreign languages without subtitles and didn’t appeal to an Irish audience. He might have done better with the popular American comedies and romances that were available at the time.

The Samuel Beckett and James Joyce bridges, designed by the architect Santiago Calatrava sit above the Liffey in view of each other. In this illustration the two bridges merge, while in the water the reflection of Vladimir and Estragon or maybe Beckett and Joyce continue their dialogue as they “swop hats and excheck a few strong verbs weak oach eather yap

Page 14 Men like to ants

"Four things therefore, saith our herodotary Mammon Lujius 
in his grand old historiorum, wrote near Boriorum, bluest book
in baile's annals, f. t. in Dyffinarsky ne'er sall fail til heathersmoke
and cloudweed Eire's ile sall pall. And here now they are, the fear of um. T. Totities! Unum. (Adar.) A bulbenboss surmounted upon an alderman. Ay, ay! Duum. (Nizam.) A shoe on a puir old wobban. Ah, ho! Triom. (Tamuz.) An auburn mayde, o'brine a'bride, to be desarted. Adear, adear! Quodlibus."

To understand page 14, we need to read back over the second half of page 13, where we are introduced to the historian (or rather, four of them) “Mammon Lujius” (who later becomes Mamalujo: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, the four evangelists, blended with the four historians of The Annals of the Four Masters). The word “Boriorum” refers to Boreum, which is the county of Donegal on Ptolemy’s map of Ireland, the place where the Annals were written. The four old men have conflated the history of Ireland with the Jewish calendar.

1132 A.D. Men like to ants or emmets wondern upon a groot 
hwide Whallfisk which lay in a Runnel. Blubby wares upat Ub-
lanium.
566 A.D. On Baalfire's night of this year after deluge a crone that hadde a wickered Kish for to hale dead turves from the bog look-it under the blay of her Kish as she ran for to sothisfeige her cowrieosity and be me sawl but she found hersell sackvulle of swart goody quickenshoon and small illigant brogues, so rich in sweat.
Blurry works at Hurdlesford.

This illustration represents a midden where elements of historical significance are found. Conflicts and battles, central to the Wake, are represented by men like ants fighting on one layer of the midden. They are inspired by Louis le Brocquy’s figures from the illustrations of The Tain. The number 1132 recurs throughout the novel, with 11 signifying rising, and 32 signifying falling. HCE is represented by the Boa Island sculpture while his wife, a hag or crone, stands guarding her twin sons in a “wickered kish” while Issy cradles her doll.

What do you think Joyce has to say about the recording of history in this passage and in what you've read so far?

Page 13 “So This Is Dyoublong?

“So This Is Dyoublong?
Hush! Caution! Echoland!
How charmingly exquisite! It reminds you of the outwashed engravure that we used to be blurring on the blotchwall of his innkempt house. Used they? (I am sure that tiring chabelshoveller with the mujikal chocolat box, Miry Mitchel, is listening) I say, the remains of the outworn gravemure where used to be blurried the Ptollmens of the Incabus. Used we? (He is only pretendant to be stugging at the jubalee harp from a second existed lishener, Fiery Farrelly.) It is well known. Lokk for himself and see the old butte new. Dbln. W. K. O. O. Hear? By the mausolime wall. Fimfim fimfim. With a grand funferall. Fumfum fumfum.”

Historic ordinance survey maps provided the background for this illustration, and they were to shape many subsequent works. This version was based on the 1888-1913 OSI map, but missing from it are the place names and the river. The only points of reference are the Phoenix Park on the northside and the Inchicore Railway Works on the southside. By removing its most identifying features, I intend to both defamiliarise and generalise the location. After all, do we need to have all the map references to know if we belong? By removing the place names, too, I have stripped back layers of history from the map, and we move one step closer to the landscape where our ancestors walk.

Beneath the landscape, I have depicted layers of vegetation to represent remnants of the lives of previous inhabitants and the way in these lives become part of the ground on which we stand and the plant life that grows around us.

Page 13 describes a "grand funferall," so in the theme of fun and games at the Wake, we have a challenge for you. In the area of the map that indicates the location of the Phoenix Park—where the feet of Fionn Mac Cumhaill are buried—are symbols from ancient Irish burial sites, dating as far back as Neolithic times. Can you identify them?

Page 12 Though the length of the land lies under liquidation(floote!)

When looking back over these earliest illustrations, I am struck by how soft and muted the colours are compared to the ones that I am working on at the moment. I think that the colours reflect my earlier tentative approach to the book and how daunted I was in undertaking this project in the beginning. I was so overwhelmed at one point, that I divided my copy of Finnegans Wake into three sections and put two of them out of sight. I put a new cover on the first section and carried it around with me wherever I went. When I travelled to Italy in the summer, I always packed my book, art materials and the A3 hardback sketchbook that I was working in first, and then added my clothing, etc., into the space left in my cabin bag. I travelled light, and could survive for up to three weeks with what I brought. I chose clothing by weight and ability to roll into the tiniest of spaces because my art materials were my priority.

My favourite part of page 12 is the following passage:

Though the length of the land lies under liquidation(floote!) and there's nare a hairbrow nor an eyebush on this glaubrous phace of Herrschuft Whatarwelter she'll loan a vesta and hire some peat and sarch the shores her cockles to heat and she'll do all a turfwoman can to piff the business on. Paff. To puff the blaziness on. Poffpoff. And even if Humpty shell fall frumpty times as awkward again in the beardsboosoloom of all our grand remonstrancers there'll be iggs for the brekkers come to mournhim, sunny side up with care.

The little hen is minding her eggs as the flood approaches and threatens them. The three eggs symbolise Issy and the twins, Shem and Shaun. In the background the Magazine Fort in the Phoenix Park looms above them. The fort, which still stands today was built on the site of a previous star fort known as Wharton’s Folly. Joyce alludes to Jonathan Swift’s Epigram on an Irish Magazine, in which he rebuked Sir Tomas Wharton, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, for building a fort to defend a land that had been picked dry. Belinda the hen is picking through the midden, but what is left to pick?

BEHOLD! a proof of Irish sense;
Here Irish wit is seen!
When nothing's left, that's worth defence,
We build a magazine.

For this week's challenge, we want you to focus on just one sentence. Here it is: "And even if Humpty shell fall frumpty times as awkward again in the beardsboosoloom of all our grand remonstrancers there'll be iggs for the brekkers come to mourn- him, sunny side up with care." Tell us what you make of it as a self-contained sentence, in the context of the rest of the page, or in terms of all you've read so far. Remember, there are no right answers: we just want to hear your thoughts (and if you've got things to say about anything else on this page, please let us know that too!)

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Page 11: Sosie Sesthers

The sentence that links pages 10 and 11 introduces us to the three soldiers and two girls in the form of the pair of pigeons and three crows. With a flapping and cackling sound, they leave the scene, and we are left alone with another little bird. She, like the Egyptian goddess, Isis, who took the form of a bird as she collected fragments of her dead husband Osiris, gathers relics. There are numerous mentions of Osiris throughout the book. I have discovered so much about Egyptology and the Book of the Dead through my research for the artwork. As we move through the chapters the stories derived from Egyptian mythology will unfold.

In keeping with the Egyptian theme, in the painting Sosie Sesthers, below, the two girls and the three soldiers spying on them are based on hieroglyphs. I loved the fact that the symbols for “woman” is a squatting figure—appropriate here, as the two girls are being spied on while they are relieving themselves. 
Dig through the relics of the passage to see if you can uncover what relics the peacefugle is collecting in her nabsack: to what domains do these objects belong. What do you think the “With Kiss. Kiss Criss. Cross Criss. Kiss Cross. Undo lives’ end. Slain” refers? And wht do you think of the representation of the bird /ALP as someone who steals “our historic presents from the past postpropheticals”? What does that indicate about the nature of history, as well as about the temporal orientation of the Wake? How do you read the rest of this page in the context of your answers?

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Page 10, The Gnarlybird

Now that she has finished narrating the battle Kate, leads us out from the exhibition with "This way the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.” As we have said before, this is symbolic of death, as we are carried on our final journey feet first. We leave Kate, the museum guide, behind and arrive outside to where the “gnarlybird” is running about on the battle field among the corpses. Kate and the bird are inextricably linked throughout the book. Kate, the cleaner knows the secrets of HCE’s family, while the bird, often in the form of a hen, scratches about unearthing letters that expose his misdemeanours. Both are also representations of Anna Livia.

In this illustration, the gnarlybird, as both hen and egg, scratches about and uncovers some of the text of page 10 of the Wake itself. The concept appealed to me as it echoed my own experience of reading and understanding the masterpiece. I love that image of the hen scratching, picking, and finding little bits of treasure. If you have ever observed these birds, they don’t look down at what they are scratching, they look about them as they scuffle the earth with their feet. Their gaze is set on the world about them until they know that they have uncovered something. I see myself like the scratching hen excavating the Wake, uncovering bits and pieces as I go. But I cannot truly enjoy it unless I lift my head out of it and look at the world that Joyce comments on. One of the great joys of Finnegans Wake is that it’s a portal into so many other sources of information.

Notice the shift in language as we move from the historic to the domestic. The domestic is often one of gentle contrasts: "then...now", "High Downadown." These contrasts--and the apparent separation of the domestic from the historic (as we have learned from reading the Wake so far), is merely an illusion: then and now and will be; myth and history and individual experience--these things are inextricable in the world of the Wake.

Page 9 The Battle of Waterloo

Kate leads us through the Museyroom while giving an account of the Battle of Waterloo. She tells us of the conflict between Lipoleum (Napoleon, who sounds like a floor covering) and Willingdone (the Duke of Wellington). Did he walk over the French General in his gumboots? Nathan Halper, the eminent Joyce scholar seems to think so.

The text in this section has elements of other battles, such as the battles of the Boyne, Hastings, Crimea, Salamanca, to name but a few. But the battle echoes the conflict in HCE’s own family, including the strife between his twin sons, Shem and Shaun.

My fascination with maps and their patterns began when I was working on the illustration of the Wellington Monument for the first series. I delved into various versions of maps depicting the battle site, searching for insights and inspiration. During this search, I discovered the Lion's Mound on the satellite view of Google Maps. This opened up a whole new dimension for me as I could explore the site in 3D, almost as if I were physically present there—a personal museyroom experience, so to speak.

Using this newfound perspective, I incorporated the imagery of the Lion's Mound into my artwork, adding depth and historical significance to the illustration. It became a representation of the monument constructed from earth taken from various parts of the battlefield and said to contain brass left behind by the French forces. This blending of historical elements with modern technology and artistic interpretation allowed me to create a unique and meaningful illustration that captures the essence of the Battle of Waterloo and its cultural significance.

As an artist for "The Art of the Wake," I find that the combination of historical research, imaginative exploration, and artistic expression enriches my illustrations, giving life to the complex themes and references found in Finnegans Wake. Through this project, I aim to celebrate both James Joyce's literary genius and the cultural heritage of Dublin while bringing the spirit of the city and its history to life within the pages of the book.

Page 8. The Museyroom

When I read the passage, "Hence when the clouds roll by, Jamey, a proudseye view is enjoyable of our mounding's mass, now Wallinstone national museum, with, in some greenish distance, the charmful waterloose country and the two quitewhite villagettes who hear show of themselves so gigglesomes minxt the follyages, the prettilees! Penetrators are permitted into the museomound free," it immediately transports me back to my childhood. I can vividly recall those Sundays when Dad would take us to Phoenix Park, and we'd excitedly climb the sloping "steps" of the Wellington Monument.

As a child, I used to believe that the massive obelisk held a secret door, and if I could just reach the next level, I would uncover its mystery. When I finally came across this part of the Wake, it was like finding a familiar memory in an unexpected place, and it filled me with delight.

When it comes to creating my illustrations, I have a rather unique process. Reading a passage often triggers images in my mind, though they may not necessarily relate to the entire text. Instead, they are connected to a particular sentence or phrase that sparks my imagination. To capture the essence of these images, I resist the urge to paint them as they are initially and challenge myself to dig deeper into the text.

The absurdity of the pictures that come to mind sometimes leaves me chuckling, but I see this humor as an integral part of the creative process. I try to incorporate this playful wit into my illustrations, staying true to the spirit of James Joyce's text.

The part of the book mentioned in the passage can be interpreted as symbolizing the nine months of gestation, as indicated by the nine "tips." The phallic symbolism of the Wellington memorial aligns with this theme, adding another layer of meaning to the passage. The admonition to mind our hats going in and our boots going out seems to reference the idea of coming into the world and leaving it, completing the cycle of life.

In summary, my artistic journey with "The Art of the Wake" is deeply connected to my childhood experiences and my passion for preserving cultural heritage. Through my illustrations, I aim to breathe life into the intricate web of references in Finnegans Wake while incorporating humor and celebrating Dublin's rich cultural essence.

Page 7 " Our maggy seen all, with her sisterin shawl."

Finnegan's fall echoes man’s original sin and his redemption. It happened on the exact spot where HCE had an encounter with the two peeing girls and the three soldiers in the Phoenix Park ("where our maggy seen all, with her sisterin shawl.") It is also the site of a museum dedicated to the memory of the Duke of Wellington, another representation of HCE. The following three pages will take us inside the museum, where we will encounter artefacts from the Battle of Waterloo.

This oil painting depicts the two girls being spied upon by the three soldiers in the park. The Egyptian hieroglyphs for "woman" and "soldier" echo the references to the Book of the Dead that occur throughout Finnegans Wake. In the background, symbols of our Irish ancestors--in the form of the carvings on kerbstone 52 at the passage tomb Newgrange--appear out of the mist, together with the Eye of Horus. The two ancient civilisations created markings on their respective burial tombs in the same era.

Since the beginning of time, man has been preoccupied with death and regeneration. Some incredibly powerful images are found in the artefacts connected with these themes. Keep an eye out for different kinds of death and regeneration as you progress through the wake.

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Page 6

“ Shize? I should shee! Macool, Macool, orra whyi deed ye diie? of a trying thirstay mournin?” Finnegan is laid out to be waked, surrounded by the twelve mourners, following his fall from the ladder. I chose the image of the skeleton in a Bronze Age cist grave, as it was the earliest form of burial in Ireland. Before this Neolithic and Mesolithic communities cremated their dead. In the Bronze Age the remains were often buried in a foetal position with funery pots filled with food or drink to sustain them on their journey to the afterlife. 
When I first read this page, I imagined Finnegan in his cist grave, with a a bockalips of finisky fore his feet" and "a barrowload of guenesis hoer his head.” In later versions of this illustration the skeleton and his grave goods are partially excavated revealing a barrel of Guinness at his skull and a copper whiskey still at his feet. On page four we were introduced to one of HCE’s bynames, Finn Mccool, the giant whose head is buried in Howth. In this illustration our Finn or Finnegan has the Howth peninsula for his pillow.

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Page 5: Finnegan's topple

In this image I introduce two of my recurring motifs, our hero in the form of one of the little fellows from the Moone High Cross and the ladder from which he falls. I have borrowed the primitive figures from the 10th-century granite cross because of their timeless simplicity. On the east face of the cross, twelve little men standing in three groups of four men represent the twelve apostles. Joyce has twelve mourners, gossips, pub customers, and jurors making appearances throughout Finnegans Wake, and we'll meet them on the next page as "all the hoolivans of the nation".

Here, we are introduced to Finnegan as a master builder whose confidence, fuelled by alcohol, encourages him to build towers and skyscrapers not unlike the Tower of Babel. But just like Adam and Cain and Easu, who thought themselves invincible, he was bound to fall. Would he have fallen if he hadn't to rise? And would he have risen had he not fallen?

Masterbuilder: Page 4

 Ilove the opening lines of this page: "What clashes here of wills gen wonts, oystrygods gaggin fishygods! Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Quaouauh!" They evoke the sounds of primitive battles of early warriors whose cries echo throughout history in the following lines. They also recreate the sounds of gulls and fish gathering at the mouth of the river. Our early ancestors left the dregs of their existence in middens or dumps, often by rivers and the sea, only to be excavated or scratched by the gulls looking for tidbits, and this theme of excavation will run throughout the book.

The harsh sound of the call "Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek!" is symbolised by the sharp dashes on the right of the illustration while the softer sounds come from the fishy form.

In this page, we're also introduced to poor Finnegan whose appetite for drink led to his demise for, while building his "skyerscrape of most eyeful hoyth entowerly" or another of equal proportions, he had a fatal fall. What a wonderful image that building is: something like the Eiffel Tower and Bailey’s lighthouse in Howth. By the way, did you know that another iteration of Finnegan, Finn McCool was so big a giant that his head is buried in Howth and his feet in the Phoenix Park? There's an illustration for that coming up soon!

Finnegans Wake introduction: Page 3

Page 3, the first page of Finnegans Wake, is my favourite as this is the one that Frances read from when she introduced me to the book. I created many experimental pieces around this first work before I began the illustrations. The imagery of the River Liffey passing by Adam and Eve's church close to the James Joyce bridge ("Taco Bridge" as Dubliners lovingly call it) and going out to sea at the Alexander Basin is timeless. That same river flowed at the time of my parents, grandparents, and all who went before and it is witness to the story of Dublin. I wanted to capture something of that in this and subsequent pieces, so, many of these illustrations will have echoes of the rippling river.

“The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!)” is a mighty thunderous sound not unlike, in my imagination anyhow, the slamming of the print on the page of a book. So, I photocopied the thunderword and enlarged it repeatedly to see what happened, and just as I had imagined the printed letters left splatters of ink too small to be seen by the naked eye. Like the sound of thunder, I began with copies of the largest and loudest letters and let them decrease until the letters became like themselves again.

One of my favourite images is at the end of the page “at the knock out in the park where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since devlinsfirst loved livvy”. I know that this sentence signifies the strife between Catholicism and Protestantism, but it is has for me become a motif for the work. I have used an orange to symbolise the cyclical nature of man of history of time and I find that the motif morphs into other forms later. In this illustration I used a halved orange to print in onto the paper in watercolour overworking one print to create the image of the “regginbrow” which is also the James Joyce Bridge.

My story

I’m a practicing artist in the midlands of Ireland and I’ve been teaching art at all levels for more years than I care to remember. My earlier work could be described as figurative and I derived real pleasure from creating lifelike portraits and landscapes. While this provided me with a body of work for group and solo exhibitions I wasn’t really challenged. Like all artists I went through barren patches when it was difficult to be motivated to even take up a brush.

I was introduced to Finnegans Wake as a child by my mother, who showed me a hardback copy (along with a copy of Ulysses); she told me that it was a very secret book that dad had smuggled in from England because the priests didn't want us reading Joyce. There was a popular belief that Ulysses and Finnegans Wake were banned because they weren't printed in Ireland. I was amazed that we had such books in our house and I was sworn to secrecy about them. The funny thing was that I too was told that I wasn’t allowed to read them but unlike my sister, Frances, I accepted it. That’s what its like being the oldest child, you just do as you’re told. So, it wasn’t until the new millennium that I discovered the Wake, and who do you think was the cause of my disobedience? Frances (you’ll read her story below)! The little rascal began to read from a huge paperback book with no other introduction than “wait ‘til you hear this, Carol.” And so, it began, my introduction to the text of Finnegans Wake. I laughed so much at her reading that first page that I was hooked.

I remember thinking at the time that I knew that language—not what it all meant, but I recognised it from my childhood. I was transported back to a particular evening in my grandmother’s when I was about five or six and I was fed up listening to the adults sitting around the fire talking about things that were of no interest to me, so I went into the kitchen and sat on the floor behind the door. I remember looking at the worn paintwork of the skirting board and hearing the voices coming and going, making sense now and again. It was like hearing conversations when you are drifting in and out of sleep. When I took to reading Finnegans Wake for myself those voices became the narrator of the book. For twelve years I have been creating artworks in response to the text. I feel like the hen, Belinda of the Dorans, scratching about in a midden, unearthing little gems that give context or meaning to parts of Joyce’s masterpiece, and, like a hen, I cannot excavate the whole dump but I can certainly find treasure.

When I first read Finnegans Wake in 2005, I was unaware of the effect that this book would have on my creativity. I immersed myself in reading it for about two years and enjoyed it as I would an Italian opera: not understanding much but loving it all. The more that I read it the more my head was filled with imagery and I responded in sketches and experimental artwork. This continued for another few years with some of the pieces making their way into realised watercolour and oil paintings. 
I think that it was about four years ago that I decided to illustrate the Wake from cover to cover. I know, it was a daft idea and even I’m surprised that I’m still going. I bought an A3 hardback sketchbook and started straight into it without any preparatory work other than research from a few reliable sources. To make the task of illustrating over 600 pages seem less daunting, I cut my Finnegans Wake paperback into three sections and put the second and third sections out of sight. And so, it began. At present I’m halfway through Joyce’s masterpiece and on my sixth hardback sketchbook with over six hundred illustrations.

I love the Wake with a passion. I love the way that Joyce has interwoven history, mythology, religion, and more into its pages. Finnegans Wake has afforded me with enough material to work on for the rest of my life.