![\"joyce.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-content\/uploads\/2006\/06\/joyce.jpg\")
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Sylvia Beach and James Joyce, 1920.<\/em><\/p>\n Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn. James Joyce from Ulysses<\/a><\/em>, 1922.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sylvia Beach and James Joyce, 1920. Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn. Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips. Horrid! And gold flushed more. A husky fifenote blew. Blew. Blue bloom is on the. Goldpinnacled hair. A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile. Trilling, trilling: Idolores. Peep! Who’s … Continue reading “Happy Bloomsday”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[42],"tags":[135,1410,428],"class_list":["post-553","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","tag-james-joyce","tag-sylvia-beach","tag-ulysses"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pq7rV-8V","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/553","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=553"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/553\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=553"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=553"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=553"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nChips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips.
\nHorrid! And gold flushed more.
\nA husky fifenote blew.
\nBlew. Blue bloom is on the.
\nGoldpinnacled hair.
\nA jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile.
\nTrilling, trilling: Idolores.
\nPeep! Who’s in the … peepofgold?
\nTink cried to bronze in pity.
\nAnd a call, pure, long and throbbing. Longindying call.
\nDecoy. Soft word. But look: the bright stars fade. Notes chirruping answer.
\nO rose! Castile. The morn is breaking.
\nJingle jingle jaunted jingling.
\nCoin rang. Clock clacked.
\nAvowal. SONNEZ. I could. Rebound of garter. Not leave thee. Smack. LA CLOCHE! Thigh smack. Avowal. Warm. Sweetheart, goodbye!
\nJingle. Bloo.
\nBoomed crashing chords. When love absorbs. War! War! The tympanum.
\nA sail! A veil awave upon the waves.
\nLost. Throstle fluted. All is lost now.
\nHorn. Hawhorn.
\nWhen first he saw. Alas!
\nFull tup. Full throb.
\nWarbling. Ah, lure! Alluring.
\nMartha! Come!
\nClapclap. Clipclap. Clappyclap.
\nGoodgod henev erheard inall.
\nDeaf bald Pat brought pad knife took up.
\nA moonlit nightcall: far, far.
\nI feel so sad. P. S. So lonely blooming.
\nListen!
\nThe spiked and winding cold seahorn. Have you the? Each, and for other, plash and silent roar.
\nPearls: when she. Liszt’s rhapsodies. Hissss.
\nYou don’t?
\nDid not: no, no: believe: Lidlyd. With a cock with a carra.
\nBlack. Deepsounding. Do, Ben, do.
\nWait while you wait. Hee hee. Wait while you hee.
\nBut wait!
\nLow in dark middle earth. Embedded ore.
\nNaminedamine. Preacher is he:
\nAll gone. All fallen.
\nTiny, her tremulous fernfoils of maidenhair.
\nAmen! He gnashed in fury.
\nFro. To, fro. A baton cool protruding.
\nBronzelydia by Minagold.
\nBy bronze, by gold, in oceangreen of shadow. Bloom. Old Bloom.
\nOne rapped, one tapped, with a carra, with a cock.
\nPray for him! Pray, good people!
\nHis gouty fingers nakkering.
\nBig Benaben. Big Benben.
\nLast rose Castile of summer left bloom I feel so sad alone.
\nPwee! Little wind piped wee.
\nTrue men. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Ay, ay. Like you men. Will lift your tschink with tschunk.
\nFff! Oo!
\nWhere bronze from anear? Where gold from afar? Where hoofs?
\nRrrpr. Kraa. Kraandl.
\nThen not till then. My eppripfftaph. Be pfrwritt.
\nDone.
\nBegin!<\/p>\n