"Schluss. He laps.
My Latin quarter hat. God, we simply must dress the character. I want puce gloves. You were a student, weren't you? Of what in the other devil's name? Paysayenn. P.C.N, you know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles. Aha. Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet, fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen." (U3.173)
"Just say in the most natural tone: when I was in Paris, boul' Mich', I used to." (U3.178)
The Boulevard St. Michel is a street in the 5th arrondissement in Paris, part of the student 'Latin' quarter. This photo is taken from the Boul'Mich, looking toward the Ile de la Cité.
"Yes, used to carry punched tickets to prove an alibi if they arrested you for murder somewhere. Justice. On the night of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by two witnesses. Other fellow did it: other me. Hat, tie, overcoat, nose. Lui, c'est moi. You seem to have enjoyed yourself." (U3.179)
"Pretending to speak broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence, across the slimy pier at Newhaven. Comment?" (U3.194)
Going to France, Stephen took a steamer boat from Newhaven (England) to Dieppe (France), then a train to Paris. This service was run by the London, Brighton & South Coast Railway company.
"Rich booty you brought back: Le Tutu," (U3.196)
"five tattered numbers of Pantalon Blanc et Culotte Rouge," (U3.197)
"a blue French telegram, curiosity to show:" (U3.197)
"- Nother dying come home father.
The aunt thinks you killed your mother. That's why she won't." (U3.199)
This is a blue French telegram from 1907: "Do not come tomorrow, Sauveterre sick." The cost of a telegram depended on the word count, and was paid by the sender. The printed information includes 'The State assumes no reponsibility [for mistakes], due to the private nature of correspondance by telegraph' (Law of November 29, 1850, article 6).
"Paris rawly waking, crude sunlight on her lemon streets. Moist pith of farls of bread, the froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air. Belluomo rises from the bed of his wife's lover's wife," (U3.209)
"the kerchiefed housewife is astir, a saucer of acetic acid in her hands." (U3.211)
"In Rodot's Yvonne and Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth chaussons of pastry, their mouths yellowed with the pus of flan breton. Faces of Paris men go by, their wellpleased pleasers, curled conquistadores." (U3.212)
Not Rodot's, but a same era Paris pastry shop.
"Noon slumbers. Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green fairy as Patrice his white." (U3.216)
"About us gobblers fork spiced beans down their gullets. Un demi setier! A jet of coffee steam from the burnished caldron. She serves me at his beck. Il est irlandais. Hollandais? Non fromage. Deux irlandais, nous, Irlande, vous savez? Ah oui! She thought you wanted a cheese hollandais." (U3.218)
The Linati scheme for Proteus includes the correspondance Kevin Egan - Menelaus. Menelaus was king of Sparta, son of Atreus, brother of Agamemnon, husband of Helen, and a major protagonist in the Trojan War. He is depicted by Homer as a wise leader and a brave fighter, with a tendency to rattle off vacuous clichés. This engraving (1886) shows Telemachus as a guest in the Palace of Menelaus.
"Your postprandial, do you know that word? Postprandial. There was a fellow I knew once in Barcelona, queer fellow, used to call it his postprandial. Well: slainte! Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined breaths and grumbling gorges. His breath hangs over our sauce stained plates, the green fairy's fang thrusting between his lips." (U3.222)
"Of Ireland, the Dalcassians, of hopes, conspiracies, of Arthur Griffith now, A E, pomander, good shepherd of men. To yoke me as his yokefellow, our crimes our common cause. You're your father's son. I know the voice. His fustian shirt, sanguineflowered, trembles its Spanish tassels at his secrets." (U3.226)
(Image courtesy of Neal Pistole)
"M. Drumont," (U3.230)
Edouard Drumont (1844 - 1917) was a French writer and journalist. Catholic and nationalist, he was known for his rabid antisemitism, and reached the peak of his notoriety during the Dreyfus affair. Drumont wrote several books. His early ones were non-political, such as Les Fetes nationales a Paris (1878), Mon Vieux Paris (1878), and Le Dernier des Trémolin (1879). Later ones expressed his political views such as La France Juive (1886) and De l'or, de la boue, du sang (1896). Drumont had a brief political career. In 1898, he was elected Deputy, and became the self-proclaimed leader of the anti-Jewish party. He sought reelection in 1902, was defeated, and returned to writing and journalism.