Status Updates From Finnegans Wake

Episode 2: Part 3 is now my favourite part of the book so far (only bit I love more is the short ode to ALP). I'm not sure if it was just easier than the rest or I'm finally starting to see the forest for the trees, but it was fantastic fun. From the Old Testament merging into New, to the Invincibles' haka and Irish ballads, to that indelicate death of the Russian general, every single bit of it was a blast!

"Till tree from tree, tree among trees, tree over tree become stone to stone, stone between stones, stone under stone for ever. O Loud, hear the wee beseech of thees of each of these thy unlitten ones! Grant sleep in hour's time, O Loud! That they take no chill. That they do ming no merder. That they shall not gomeet madhowiatrees. Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low! Ha he hi ho hu."

... thence your pristopher polombos, hence our Kat Kresbyterians; the curt witty witty dashes never quite just right at the trim trite truth letter; the sudden spluttered petulance of some capjtaljsed middle; a word as cunningly hidden in its maze of confused drapery as a field mouse in a nest of colored ribbons: ...

The teatimestained terminal (say not the tag, mummer, or our show’s a failure!) is a cozy little brown study all to oneself and, whether it be thumbprint, mademark or just a poor trait of the artless, it’s importance in establishing the identities in the writer complexes (for if the hand was one, the minds of active and agitated were more than so) will be best appreciated by never forgetting ... it was a habit ...

3.1

Narrated by a Shaun-obsessed donkey who gives him plenty of rope to hang himself.

Includes 2 thunderwords, a bug orgy, Shaun’s Tarrare-esque diet (he devours, amongst other things, 40 flights of stairs), a host of insults about Shem and the letter (“an infant sailing eggshells on the floor of a wet day would have more sabby” and “he’s weird, to tell you, and middayevil down to his vegetable soul”).