JAMES JOYCEPoems and

Shorter Writingincluding Epiphanie IGiacomo Joyce and

'A Portrait of the Artist'

Edited by Richard EllmannA. Walton Litz and

John Whittier-Ferguson

Introduction

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James Joyce was first and last a poet. His earliest literary .effort,ot the age of nine, was a poem (of which we have only afragment) i.n'honour of the dead.hero, Charles Stewart-Parnell,whose shadow falls over Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artistas a Young Man. His final achievement was. the great poetictribute to Alina Livia Plurabelle that closes Finnegans W4ke.

Poetry was joyce's natural medium for the expression.of hismost personal sentiments. Beneath their-mannered andcon-venrional surfaces, the poems of Chamber Music (1907) tracehis spiritual progress in the years 1901....4, while the thirteenpoems collected in 1927 as Parnes Penyeach memorialize.pots of time' from 1903 to 1924. The first: of these, 'Cabra'(Inter called 'Tilly'), was written shortly after the death -ofJoyce's mother in August 1903. It takes its title from the1()Cntion of the joyce home" 7 Sr Peter's Terrace, Cabra, In

tober 1906 Joyce asked if his brother Stanislaus meant him,., Include the Cabra poem' in Chamber Music, but the' poemWQ.S probably too close to his most harrowing experience forubllcation at that time. Out of key with the tone and-subjects

,)1 the early lyrics, it is more at home in the autobiographicalworld of Parnes Penyeach.The heart of Pomes Penyeach is a series, of poems written in. --

'lJrlcllte in 1913-15, at a time when joyce's art and life wereused with new creativ:e energy. Typical of these is 'She

Woeps Over Rahoon', which was composed after Joyce's 1912t to the grave of his wife's early sweetheart, MIchael~Ikin, the model for Michael Furey in 'The Dead'. The-poemvea Joyce's vision of how Nora felt about the living husband

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and the dead lover, thus preparing the way for one of the majorthemes in Exiles and Ulysses.

Perhaps the most interesting and bizarre episode in theevolution of Pomes Penyeach occurred in 1923, when joycewas drafting the first version of the Tristan and Isolde sectionin Finnegans Wake (11.4). He copied out 'Nightpiece' on theback of a sheet of paper and then surrounded the poem with anintroduction and ironic commentary. None. of this materialreached the final-text of Finnegdns Wake, but it shows that themature poems strike at the heart of Joyce's secret life. 'Night-piece' was derived from a dream passage in Giacomo Joycewhich reflects the inner drama of Joyce's encounter with hisTrieste 'lover', Amalia Popper.

Most moving of all the mature poems is 'Ecce Puer' (1932),which was written out of joyce's despair overthe recent deathof his father and joy at the birth of his grandson. In 'Ecce Puer'the biblical overtones and ritualized cadences enlarge the shortpoem into a commentary on the whole course of joyce's life. Itends:

A child is sleeping:An old man-gene.0, father-forsaken,Forgive your son!

When confronted with 'Ecce Puer' and the more successfulpoems in Pomes Penyeach, one might wonder why Joyceturned his poetic impulse into the creation of fiction. The.answer lies in the nature of the early poetry and its relationshipto the early fiction, especially Dubliners.

In the mid-r Syos joyce collected his schoolboy poems underthe title Moods. Some of these may have been carried over intohis next volume, Shine and Dark (c. 19(0). The few versesfrom Shine and Dark that were not lost or destroyed (see

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pp. 72-86) are highly imitative, derived from the academicromanticism of the 1890S. According to Joyce's brotherStanislaus, the villanelle that Stephen Dedalus composes inChapter V of A Portrait of the Artist as a'Young Man was oneof these early poems; and we can learn a great deal aboutjoyce's mature attitude towards his early poetry from hispartly ironic treatment of the villanelle in Portrait. Although. agood example of a familiar 1890S genre, highly accomplishedin metnic and phrasingj.the villanelle - and the pretentiousdescription of the creative process that precedes it - arequalified by being placed in the context of Stephen's pre-cocious aesthetic theories, which strike the reader as moremature and 'origlnal'-than the poem.As Stephen takes his morning walk across the city he repeats

to himself 'the song by Ben Jonson which begins: I was notwearier where I lay.' if we. compare the song from Jonson'sVision of Delight with the opening of Stephen'S villanelle, thedifferences are immediately apparent:

I was not wearier where I layBy frozen Tithou's 'side to-night,Than I am willing R.OW to stay,And be apart of your delight.But I am urged' by:the, Day,Against my will, to bid you come away.

Are you not weary of ardent ways,Lure of the fallen.seraphim?Tell no more of enchanted days.

Uy contrasting Jonson's controiied lines with Stephen's imita-tlv~,fm-de-siecle weariness, Joyce has subtlycriticized his heromd provided us with some acute commentary on Shine andl)ark.

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Most of the poems in Chamber. Music were written between1901 and 1904, although the volume was not published until1907. Yeats viewed these poems as the work of 'a youngmanwho is practising his instrument, taking 'pleasure in the merehandling of the stops', and this is certainly the dominantimpression conveyed by Chamber Music. There 'are obviousdebts to the Romantic poets (XXVI), and some poems suggestthe mood poetry of the.r Syos (especially II, which dates fromthe Shine and Dark period). Some of the verses are fineimitations of the Elizabethan lyric (VI); others-are modelled onthe Irish folk song (~:X;X,I)~Joyce was an excellent singer wholoved Elizabethan music, and it was his hope -later fulfilled -that the poems of Chamber Music would be set to music -by'someone who knows old English music such as I like'. Hethought of Chamber Music as a 'suite' of SONgS, and thecollection is fined with musical imagery. More importantly,the songs are held together by a rhythmical structure ofleitmotivs and recurrent themes. There IS a pervasive debt toVerlaine, whose 'Art poetique' - with its emphasis on musicalform and the nuance - stands behind ,the,whole collection.

But it would be a mistake to think of Chamber Music solelyin terms of imitated styles. There are occasions when Joyce,like the Elizabethan sonneteers, uses the conventions for neweffects. One such occasion is Poem XII. According to Stanis-laus Joyce, this lyric grew out-of an experience his brother hadone evening in 1904. A young girl whom James admiredremarked that the pale, mist-encircled moon looked 'tearful'.James replied that it 'looks to me like the chubby hooded faceof some jolly fat Capuchin'. After the girl had left, Joyce 'toreopen a cigarette-box and standing under a street lamp wrotethe two verses of the song on the inside of the box'.

In Poem XlI the argument against sentimentality and the'pathetic fallacy' is conducted through a deliberate dash of

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styles. The girl sees the-moon asa conventional emblem ofLove's sad mysteries, and her view is expressed in an appropri-ately pathetic language. But Joyce, in the manner of JulesLaforgue, converts the 'hooded moon' of convention into thestartling image of a 'comedian Capuchin', thus deflating thesentimentality of 'Love in ancient pleniiune'. This deliberateinterplay of styles is not common in Chamber Music - Joyce ismore often a, prisoner, of the forms, he imitates, - .butit isimportant as a,sign of his growing command of language andhis deep-felt need for a manner of writing that could combineirony with Iyricism,

Another atypical poem that demands attention is XXXVI, 'Ihear an army'. In this ly;ric Joyce adapted a sryle found inYeats's more intense poems of the 1890S - such as 'The Valleyof the Black Pig' - and made it his own. The emphasis isntirely on sound, not sight - 'hear', 'thunder', 'cry', 'moan','clanging', 'shouting' - yet the total impact of the poem is thatof a powerful visual image. As the poem develops.ithe scenestruggles into sight like the army out of the sea; the materials ofnightmare have been given precise expression, It, is noturprising that when Ezra Pound published his-Des Imagistesnthology in 1914 he included 'I hear an army' and praised itr its 'objective' form. Long before the Imagist movement

enme into being, Joyce had broken his own bondage to' the1890S and achieved a condensed, energetic; style of hi's own.l'oems such as 'I hear an army' prepared the way for Dub-litlers, just as Imagism helpedprepare the reading public forthe economic style of Joyce's stories.

And yet, in spite of his successes in Chamber Music, Joycereacted violently against the work. By 1906 he was referring tocontemptuously as a 'young man's book', and wishing that

he could find another title, which would 'to a certain extentrepudiate the book, without altogether disparaging.it'. In l;907

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he nearly cancelled publication,explaining: 'All -that kind of '."thing is false'. How can we account for this change in,attitude? .One answer, probably the most important one, is that Joycewas by temperament a sentimentalist, and that this sentimen- ,tality was too easily exposed in the revelations 'of unmediatedlyric poetry. Chamber Music always loomed large in joyce'senrotionalIife, especially in his relationship with Nora (after a "reconciliation in 1909 Joyce sent her a parchment copy of"Chamber Music, with her' initials and his entwined on thecover, accompanied by a sentimental letter). But in his artJoyce was determined to control his sentimentality, and to ,,'accomplish this aim he needed the greater objectivity - the'~ironic contexts - provided by fiction. When Joyce told hisbrother in 1906 that 'a page of A Little CiGJUd gives me morepleasure than all my verses', 'he was dearly thinking of thestricter control found in the later stories of Dubliners. Thatbalance of sympathy and detachment, of sentiment and irony,which is the signature of his mature art could be attained onlyfitfully in the forms of Chamber Music.Another aspect of Chamber Music that indicates the di-

rection of Joyce's development is the collection's generaldesign, As the songs accumulated, Joyce made several tentativeaerangements of them, the last and most important being an 'arrangement of the first thirty-four songs which dates from190-5.However, by late 1906 he was so indifferent to the fateof the volume that he allowed his brother Stanislaus todetermine the published sequence. Stanislaus gave the thirty-six songs a musical sequence, hoping 'to suggest a closedepisode of youth and love', and. Joyce accepted this withoutcomment. But the earlier arrangement of thirty-four songs wasobviously still-in his mind when he wrote in 1909 to an Irishcomposer who was setting some of the poems to music: 'Thecentral SOAgis XIV after which the movement is.alldownwards

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until XXXIV which is vita:lly the end of the book. xxxv andXXXVI are tailpieces just as land III are preludes.'

In addition to Chamber Music and Pomes Penyeach Joycewrote a number of occasional poems, many of them comic orsatiric in nature. After 'Ecce Puer' the most significant are TheHoly Office (1904), his angry diatribe against the Ireland thathe believed had driven him into exile; and Gas from a Burner .(1912), a savage broadside prompted by his abortive 1912 tripto Dublin. Background information on these and the otheroccasional poems will be found in the notes, along with furtherinformation about the texts and various arrangements ofChamber Music and Pomes Penyeach.

A.W.L.

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YOUTHFUL POEMS

Et Tu, Healy

My eat alas that dear old shady homeWhere art in youthful sport I playedUpon thy verdantgrassy fields all dayOr lingered for a moment in thy bosom shade.

His quaint-perched. aerie on the crags of TimeWhere the rude din of this .... centuryCan trouble him no more.

Yea, for this love of mineI have given-all I had;For she waspassiag fair,And I waspassing.mad,

All flesh, it is said,Shall wither as thegrass;The fuel for the ovenShall- be-consumed, alas!

We will leave the village behind,Merrily, you and I,Tramp it smart and sing to the wind,With the Rommany Rye.

Giadly above,The 'lover list~JlScIn deepest Ieve.

Of thy dark tife, without a love, without a friend,Here is, indeed, an end.

There are ne HI's to kiss this foul remains of thee,0, dead Unchastity!

The curse of loneliness broods silent on thee still,Doing -itsutilIost will,

And men shaU cast tli~-justly to' tlly narrow tomb,A sad and bitter doom.

I intone the-high anthem,Pa~g in their festival.Swing out, swing in, the rtigllt is dark,Magical hait,aliv-eWith glee,Wihtrowmg- spark after spark,Star after stal',raptUrously.Toss and- toss, amazing arms;Witches, weav-eupon tbefloorYour subtle-woven web of charms.

CHAMBEIt MUSIC

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vLean Qut 0ft;he wind0W,Geldeaaaie,

I heasd you.singingA merry air.

Myb()(\)k was elosed,J r:ead ne mo!;@;,

Watehing:.fhe nre-daneeOn the HOOT.

I have left my book,Ihave left my room,

For I heard you. singingThw.ugh the gloom.

Singing and singingA merry air,

Lean out of the window,Goldenhair.

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VI

I would in that sweet besom be(0 sweet it is and fair it is!)

Where no rude wind might visit me.Because of sad austerities

I would in that sweet bosom be.

I would be ever in that heart(0 soft I "knock and soft entreat her!)

Where only peace might be my part.Austerities were all the sweeter

So I were ever in that heart.

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IX

Winds of May, that dance on the sea,Dancing a ring-around in gleeFrom furrow to furrow, while overheadThe foaraflies up to be garlanded,In silvery arches spanningtbe air,Saw you my true love anywhere?

Wettaday! Wel1aday!For the winds of May!

Love is unhappy when love is away!

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What counsel has the hooded moonPut in. thy heart,bly shyly sweet,

Of Love in aacient-plenilune,Glory and stars beneath his feet -

A sage that is but kith and kinWith the comedian Capuchin?

Believe me rather that am wiseIn disregard of the divine,

A glory kindles in those eyesTrembles to staelight, Mine, 0 Mine!

No more be tears in moon or mistFor thee, sweet sentimentalist.

XVI

o.cool is the vaUeyrrowAYldthere, love, will we go

For many a eheir is singing nowWhere Love did sometime ;go.

And hear you not the thrushes catting,Calling us away?

o cool and pleasant is the valleyAnd there, love, will we stay.

XXI

He who hath glory lost, nor bathFound any soul to fellow his,

Among his foes in scorn and wrathHoldiageo ancient nobleaess,

That high uaceasortable one -His love is his companion.

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Thou leanest to the shell of night,Dear lady, a divining ear.

In that soft choiring -of d~lightWhat sound hath-made thy heart to fear?

Seemed it of-rivenruslring- forthFrom the grey deserts of th-e notl'M

TIt-at mood of thine, 0 timorous,Is his, if thou but scan it well,

Who a mad tale bequeaths to usAt ghosting hour conjurable -

And all for some strange name he readIn Purehas or in Holinslted.

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XXXVI

I hear an army cna-rglng upon the land,Ana the thunaetof horses plunging~Ao"3lil-abouttheir

knees:Arrogant, in blackarmour, behind them stand,Disdaining tne ~ems~with fluttering whips, the

charioteers.

They cry unto the night their battle-name:Imoan in sleep when Lhear afartheit whirling laughter.

They cleave the gloom-of-dreams, a blindingfl~me,Clanging,clangingupon the h-eartas upl)fiananvrl.

They come shaking in triUmph their tang, green hair:They c-omeout of the sea and run shouting by the shore.

My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone!

POMES PENYEACH

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He travels attet' a-winter sun,Urging the cattle along a-cold reedroad,Calling to them, a voice they know,He drives his beasts above Cabra.

The voice tells them home is warm.They moo and make brute music-with their hoofs.He drives them-with a -floweringerancl1 beimehim,Smoke plwningtheirforehea:ds.

Boer, bond of the herd,Tonight stretch full by the fire!I bleed by the black streamFor my tom bough!

Dublin, I904

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she Weeps Over Raheon

Rain on Rahoon:faIls softly, softIyfalling,Where my dark lover lies.Sad is his VOf~ that-calls me, sadly calling,At grey moonrise.

Love, hear thouHow soft, how sad his voice is ever caning,Ever unanswered, and thedat-k rain falling,Then as now.

Dark too oar hearts, 0 love, shall lie and coldAs his sad heart has lainUnder the moongrey nettles, the black mouldAnd muttering rain.

Trieste, 1913

9Nigaspiece

Gaunt in gloom,The pale stars their torches,Enshrouded, wave.Ghostfues from heaven's tar verges faint itlume,Arches on soaring arches,Night's sindark nave.

Seraphim,The lost hosts awakenTo service tillIn moonless gloom each lapses muted, dim.Raised when she has and shakenHer thurible.

And long and loud,To night's nave upsoaring,A starknell tollsAs the bleak incense surges, cloud on cloud,Voidward from the adoringWaste of souls.

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,iECCE PUER

Ecee Puer

Of the dark pastA child is born.With jPy and griefMy heart is tom.

Calm in his cradleThe living lies.May love and mercyUnclose his eyes!

Young life is breathedOn the glass;The world that was notComes to pass.

A child is sleeping:An old man gone.0, father forsaken,Forgive your son!

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OCCASIONAL POEMS

2.0

New letawhile;mY'11l~mates beMy po-n-detous'PtnelopeAnd my utysses;f5(1rtllUlewIn Dublin as an Irish Jew.Withthetn PH sit, with them Fll drinkNor heed what press and pressmen thinkNor leave their rockbeund house of joyFor Helen or for windy Ttoy.

21

There once was an anther named WellsWho wrete about science, not smelts [... ]The result is a series of cells.

22.

Solearen

There's a hairyfaeed Moslem named SimonWhoseton'es att!-tfot-those of a shy man

When with cast iron lungsHe bowls twentynve tongues -

But he's not at all easy to thyme on.

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. And I shall have no peace th~re .for Ja,y,ceeomes more andmore,

Dropping from. a tramp ora- taJci to witcu;ethe white wineswills.

Then midnight's all ef a shimmy and Bloom a bloody boreAnd morning full - of bills! bills! bills!

35

Who is S:ylvia; what is sheThat all-our .senbes commend hel"?Yankee, young and brave is sheThe west this .graee did lend her,That all books might published be.

Is she rich as she is braveFor wealth oft daring misses!Throngs about her rant and raveTo subscribe f-or UlyeseBut, having signed, they ponder grave.

Then to Sylvia let us singHer daring Iiesinsetling.She can.sell each mortal thingThat's. borin,g, beyond telling.To her let us buyers bring.

J~J.afterW.S.

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The press aud'thec llub:lkmisled meSo brand it as slander and liesThat lam the bloke witb the watchesAnd that you are the chap with the ties.

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- Jimmy Joyce, Jimmy Joyce, where have you been?- I've been to London to see the queen -- Jimmy Joyce, Jimmy loyc.;:e, what saw you, tell?- I saw a-brass -bed in the Euston Hotel.

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68

Goodbye, .Zurieh, I In~t leave you,Though it breaks myhea:rt to shreds

Tatthen.anae.Something tellsme I am neededIn Paree to hump thebeds,Bump! I hear the tmnks a tumblingAnd l'mfcantic for the fray.Farewell, dolce far niente!Goodbye, Ziirichesee!

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