Finnegans...Awake?

“If you think I’m going to review it, you’re crazy. But I am going to swim in it.”

Lester Bangs (from his 1974 review of the Rolling Stones’ “It’s Only Rock ‘N’ Roll”)

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Oh, Lester, you great demon of the dirty noise; you critic of the cringe. How far ahead could one man be who died when I was child and yet seems to haunt me in my old age? I read this many a day ago, and it comes from the anger and disappointment that anyone would feel watching one of their favourite bands slip from a great high into a lethargic trough of clichés and uninspired poses. The Rolling Stones had finished an incredible run with “Exile on Main Street” and “Sticky Fingers”, and then…they lost their way. “Goat’s Head Soup” was the first sign that maybe the boys from South London were a little tired and could not possibly live up to the anti-establishment stance they were believed to hold. Money, fame, drugs, sex and the general malaise of the seventies got to them and every other band that survived the rollback at the end of the sixties, and they threw their hands up and said, “We are done…but we still are who we are.” The Rolling Stones had to go on, and Mick and Keith, those notorious Glimmering Twins, had to keep the ball rolling and the money pumping in.

Now, why am I reviewing the Stones when this is supposed to be about James Joyce’s last…whatever it is?

Well, the Bangs quote was a perfect way for me to begin talking about the book that haunted me one summer, and also, I am approaching Joyce the same way I approach the Stones, just from the other direction.

I know that the Stones are not the band they once were. They have not been a real presence on the charts in almost fifty years, and yet they go on. Their shows sell out; the fans still love them; the merch still rocks (I have a “Keith Richards for President” and a Mick Jagger mugshot t-shirt that will never be sold or tossed out). They are a presence in our culture that we cannot deny...the singers, I mean.

And then there is James Joyce.

We know that we are supposed to feel that “Ulysses” is a masterpiece…and it is. No matter what you may think of the final product, the fact that he was able to pack so much in to a book that only contains one action – Stephen meeting Leopold – is an incredible peak of literary skill and talent. It deserves its own day and its particular fandom.

So, why is “Finnegans Wake” still such a divisive…whatever it is?

I figured it out during Covid.

Let me explain: when that infamous pandemic hit, I was forced to work from home (odd memory: I was actually talking about it in class as a subject with my private students as it spread around the world). It was oddly easy to shift to online teaching, at least when I bought a used ergonomic chair on Marketplace and realized that I did not always have to have my camera working. So, I got to work and got used to ordering groceries from the local IGA (only done once after they messed up my order; waiting in a well-spaced line was worth it). But I still had a lot of time on my head…and hands...

I had a lot of books that needed to be read.

James Joyce was an interesting choice. I first read him as an undergrad, then I read “Ulysses” while I was house-hunting as a grad student (yeah, I had odd reading habits even then). I soon found roommates; I then found that I did not want them, and moved to my first solo apartment with all my books. And I realized that I was almost done with the Joyce pile.

Well, almost.

Anthony Burgess’ “A Shorter Finnegans Wake” was a purchase I made overseas as an ESL teacher, and had not dared to read. “Ulysses” was a book that I could read while searching for a place because I knew the structure; I could see how he incorporated the ancient myths of Penelope and Odysseus into the narrative. And I also managed to match it up with my own journey in a new city (I even managed to finish reading it in bed, key for the book). But “Finnegans Wake” was a very different type of book. You would need a real guide to the text.

Thank you, Mr. Burgess!

I would never have dared to make this trip without his guidance and notes. And yes, it definitely was “Shorter”. Maybe you think it is cheating to go for an abridged version of such a classic, but it was not that much easier to go into that text. And it had a very strange effect on me as that wash of words entered my head, because...

His puns have puns.

His metaphors metastisize.

His lyricism lingers.

His lines feel like the ultimate cryptic crossedworlds puzzle.

And it is not written in English...

*It is written in Joyce!

(insert clapplausear)

*Note: yes, it is a cheat to not even include a line from the book in this pseudoreview of it, but that is now your job. It is not a tome that allows you to pull out a part of the whole and have a clear picture of the ride (even Burgess pointed this out). Instead, dive in, heed the wise words of Mr. Bangs, and realize that we will never see an attempt to rewrite writing like this again.

Is that a bad thing?

Whatever...just watch the video:

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Thank you for reading!

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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