Anna Livia Plurabella

by James Joyce, Vladimír Procházka (Translator), Adolf Hoffmeister (Translator)

Moderní literární experiment, součást rozsáhlejšího díla Finnegans Wake. Komentář Dr. Vladimir Prochazka a Dr Adolf Hoffmeister.

Vydal jako 9. svazek
BIBLIOFILSKÉ EDICE
ODEON
v lednu roku 1932
Jan Fromek,
Praha II., Jungmannova I.
jen pro subskribenty
jaho soukromý tisk
ve 300 číslovaných výtiscích, z nichž
čís. 1-20 na holandu Van Gelderově
čís. 21-300 na dřevaprostém antiku
Písmem cicero Janson vytiskli
knihtiskaři Kryl a Scotti v Nov. Jičíně

Genres: Fiction, Poetry, Irish Literature, Short Stories

98 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1930

About the author

James Joyce was an Irish novelist, poet, and a pivotal figure in 20th-century modernist literature, renowned for his highly experimental approach to language and narrative structure, particularly his pioneering mastery and popularization of the stream-of-consciousness technique. Born into a middle-class Catholic family in the Rathgar suburb of Dublin in 1882, Joyce spent the majority of his adult life in self-imposed exile across continental Europe—living in Trieste, Zurich, and Paris—yet his entire, meticulous body of work remained obsessively and comprehensively focused on the minutiae of his native city, making Dublin both the meticulously detailed setting and a central, inescapable character in his literary universe. His work is consistently characterized by its technical complexity, rich literary allusion, intricate symbolism, and an unflinching examination of the spectrum of human consciousness. Joyce began his published career with Dubliners (1914), a collection of fifteen short stories offering a naturalistic, often stark, depiction of middle-class Irish life and the moral and spiritual paralysis he observed in its inhabitants, concluding each story with a moment of crucial, sudden self-understanding he termed an "epiphany." This collection was followed by the highly autobiographical novel A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916), a Bildungsroman that meticulously chronicled the intellectual and artistic awakening of its protagonist, Stephen Dedalus, who would become Joyce's recurring alter ego and intellectual stand-in throughout his major works.
His magnum opus, Ulysses (1922), is universally regarded as a landmark work of fiction that fundamentally revolutionized the novel form. It compressed the events of a single, ordinary day—June 16, 1904, a date now globally celebrated by literary enthusiasts as "Bloomsday"—into a sprawling, epic narrative that structurally and symbolically paralleled Homer's Odyssey, using a dazzling array of distinct styles and linguistic invention across its eighteen episodes to explore the lives of Leopold Bloom, his wife Molly Bloom, and Stephen Dedalus in hyper-minute detail. The novel's explicit content and innovative, challenging structure led to its initial banning for obscenity in the United States and the United Kingdom, turning Joyce into a cause célèbre for artistic freedom and the boundaries of literary expression. His final, most challenging work, Finnegans Wake (1939), pushed the boundaries of language and conventional narrative even further, employing a dense, dream-like prose filled with multilingual puns, invented portmanteau words, and layered allusions that continues to divide and challenge readers and scholars to this day. A dedicated polyglot who reportedly learned several languages, including Norwegian simply to read Ibsen in the original, Joyce approached the English language not as a fixed entity with rigid rules, but as a malleable medium capable of infinite reinvention and expression. His personal life was marked by an unwavering dedication to his literary craft, a complex, devoted relationship with his wife Nora Barnacle, and chronic, debilitating eye problems that necessitated numerous painful surgeries throughout his life, sometimes forcing him to write with crayons on large white paper. Despite these severe physical ailments and financial struggles, his singular literary vision remained sharp, focused, and profoundly revolutionary. Joyce passed away in Zurich, Switzerland, in 1941, shortly after undergoing one of his many eye operations. Today, he is widely regarded as perhaps the most significant and challenging writer of the 20th century. His immense, complex legacy is robustly maintained by global academic study and institutions such as the James Joyce Centre in Dublin, which ensures his complex, demanding, and utterly brilliant work endures, inviting new generations of readers to explore the very essence of what it means to be hum

Reviews

[Jonathan]

I have just, as an "I got a new job" present to myself, hunted down and bought a copy of the 1930 Anna Livia in its lovely brown hardback edition (not, of course, the insanely expensive limited set signed by Joyce, but the next best thing)

It is beautiful - unexpectedly small and fragile but then is only 32 pages...

[Nathan "N.R." Gaddis]

This is an Advanced Uncorrected Review. Please do not cite or quote it. Corrections, expansions and ballooning may occur in the near=ish future. And I might even Ali a Translation=Comparison. Yup!

EDIT (today) :: okay so below you’ll find that Ali Translation=Comparison. I’m moving the book over to partial-credit for the moment. The introduction is excellent. Inaccuracies very likely persist in what follows ; I wrote up most of it as soon as I pulled it off the shelf at The Village Bookshop, totally out of reine Begeisterung.

_______________
Major score at The Village Bookshop yester eve. Anna Livia Plurabelle pub’d by Suhrkamp in 1971.

But first :: for the Wake=Curious, read those first four paragraphs of the novel, riverrun etc, and be really=really confused ;; but then skip ahead to this most nunfamous of worderments, “Anna Livia Plurabell”, pages 196-216 :::

“O tell me all about Anna Livia! I want to hear all about Anna Livia. Well, you know Anna Livia? Yes, of course, we all know Anna Livia. Tell me all. Tell me now. You’ll die when you hear. Well, you know, when the old cheb went futt and did what you know. Yes, I know, go on.”

The ALP chapter was (one of) the earliest written portion(s) of The Wake, originally published in a luxury edition in 1928 (850 copies). Joyce used it as evidence of the fantastic stuff that would eventually become Finnegans Wake. Then you can rove elsewhere and elsewhen in the beautify of The Wake.

1200 hours he spent on ALP ; 17 revisions.

The poem Joyce wrote for Faber edition (1930) of ALP ::

Buy a book in brown paper
From Faber & Faber
To see Annie Liffey trip, tumble and caper.
Sevensinns in her singthings,
Plurabelle on her prose,
Seashell ebb music wayriver she flows.

1929 -- recording of final pages of ALP by Joyce.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxId5...

“Es ist häufig gesagt worden, man brauche Finnegans Wake nur zu hören, dann verstehe man alles. Das ist Blödsinn.” (25)


Here’s the ToC ::

Introduction by Klaus Reichert, auf Deutsch, ~30 pages.

The Anna Livia chapter, Book I chapter 8, pages 196-216 (as published in the 1939 edition).

German translation by Wolfgang Hildesheimer.

“Parryotphrosed myth brockendootsch by Hans Wollschläger”, famous translator of Ulysses and comrade of Schmidt.

Partial translation into Basic English by C.K. Ogden. [Best of my knowledge, Joyce participated in this ; McHugh makes note of this trans.]

German translation by Georg Goyert of an early version of the ALP text. Goyert had Germanified Ulysses.

French translation (partial) by Samuel Beckett, Philippe Soupault, and others. (1931) Joyce had a major hand in this ; well known for preferring the musical level of translation over the semantic content.


The goodreads database, as for normal operations, mixes this volume with several other distinct and quite different volumes ; nevertheless, they too may be of some interest. One into Spanish and one into Italian. Go forth.....


Compare
The final paragraph of ALP, page 215 (169R).

Original ::

Can’t hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flittering bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome? What Thom Malone? Can’t hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffeying waters of. Ho, talk save us! My foos won’t moos. I feel als old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun oder Shem? All Livia’s daughtersons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who were Shem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night!


C. K. Ogden’s Basic English (1932).

“No sound but the waters of. The dancing waters of. Winged things in flight, field-rats louder than talk. Ho! Are you not gone, ho! What Tom Malone? No sound but the noise of these things, the Liffey and all its waters of. Ho, talk safe keep us! There’s no moving this my foot. I seem as old as that three over there. A story of Shaun or Shem but where? All Livia’s daughters and sons. Dark birds are hearing. Night! Night! My old head’s bent. My weight is like that stone you see. What may the John Shaun story be? Or who were Shem and Shaun the living sons and daughters of? Night now! Say it, say it, tree! Night night! The story say of stem or stone. by the side of the river waters of, this way and that way waters of. Night!


German by Georg Goyert

Ich hör nicht wegen des Wassers von. Des Wassergeschwassers von. Fleddernder Flug, Feldmaus pfiff schrill. Ho! Bist du nicht derheim gegangen? Was? Den Leim gegangen? Ich hör nicht vor Mäuse Gewisper liffeylaufenden Wassers von. Ho, rett uns die Red! Mein Fus ist wie Mus. Ich fühl so alt wie jener Baum. Eine alte Mär von Shem und Shaun? All Livias Töchtersöhn. Dunkle Falken hören uns. Nacht! Nacht! Mein ho Haupt hallt. Ich fühl so schwer wie jener Stoan. Erzähl mir doch von John und Shaun. Wer waren Shem und Shaun lebendige Söhne oder Töchter von? Nact nun! Sag mir, sag mir, sag mir, Baum! Nacht, nacht! Berichtegeschichte von Stein und Staun. Neben den flüssernden Wassern von, den hinunherrinnenden Wassern von. Nacht!


French by Samuel Beckett, Alfred Péron, Ivan Goll, Eugène Jolas, Paul-L. Léon, Adrienne Monnier, and Philippe Soupault in cooperation with the author (1931).

N’entends pas cause les ondes de. Le bébé babil des ondes de. Souris chauve, trottinette cause pause. Hein! Tu n’es pas rentré Quel père André? N’entends pas cause les fuisouris, les liffeyantes ondes de. Eh! Bruit nous aide! Mon pied à pied se lie lierré. Je me sens vieille comme mon orme même. Un conte conté de Shaun ou Shem? De Livie tous les fillefils. Sombres faucons écoutent l’ombre. Nuit. Nuit. Ma taute tête tombe. Je me sens lourde comme ma pierrestone. Conte moi de John ou Shaun. Qui furent Shem et Shaun en vie les fils ou filles de. Là-dessus nuit. Dis-mor, dis-mor, dis-mor, orme. Nuit, nuit! Contemoiconte soit tronc ou pierre. Tant rivièrantes ondes de, couretcourantes ondes de. Nuit.


German by Wolfgang Hildesheimer

Hör nicht vor Wassern von. Die schliddernen Wasser von. Fliddermäus fledern, Feldratz rasht rausch. Hee! Bist du nicht heimgangen? Wen einfangen? Hör nicht vor Rattenrascheln, all am Liffeylauf Wasser von. Her, red steh uns bei! Mein Gebein gräbt sich ein. Ich fahl mich alt wie drüb die Ulme. Eine alte Mär von Shem und Shaun? All Livias Töchtersöhn? Dunkle Falken lauschen uns. Nacht! Nacht! Mein Haupt hallt fall. Ich fühl mich schwer wie jenseits Stein. Zähl mir von Sem und Ham! Wer warn sie, Shem und Shaun, die lebten also Söhne von Töchter von? Nacht nun! Zähl mir, zähl mir, zähl mir, Elm! Nacht! Nacht! Zähl mir Schicht von Stein und Stamm. Bei den flissernden Wassern von, den hinunherwissernden Wassern von. Nacht!


Parryotphrosed myth brockendootsch by Hans Wollschläger.

Kaum hör ich mehr bei den Wassern der. Den schütternden Wassern der. Fleddernd Gewisch, Felldmäus’ vergraulen ‘s Geplausch. Ho! Warst du noch nicht davon? Was, Richter John? Kaum hör’ch mehr beim graulen Gemausel, all die liffeygen Wasser der. Ho, hör redd uns! Die Füß so müß. Alt ist es mir wie yonner Stamm. Ein’ Flußtermär von Shaun oder Shem? All Livias Töchtersöhn’. Kolkfalken ohrn uns. Nacht! Nacht! Mein ho Haupt hallt. Mir ist so schwere wie yonner Stoan. Raunst du von John oder Shaun? Wer warn Shem und Shaun, die lebenden Söhn’ oder Töchter der? Nacht nun! Raun mir, raun mir, raun mir, Baum! Nacht Nacht! Mehrmirmär von Stamm und Stoan. Zuseiten den flüssernden Wassern der, lispelndundwispernden Wassern der. Nacht!

[Apurva Nagpal · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5⭐️

Anna Livia Plurabelle is a fictional character from James Joyce’s novel Finnegans Wake. It took him 17 years to write the book, after the success of Ulysses and called it “Work in Progress” initially, and to give his readers a glimpse of his new work, the critics an anticipation they were not expecting, he published a chapter from the book in a magazine and that chapter was “Anna Livia”.

I had no knowledge that this book existed until I found it at a second hand book stall and I’m so glad I picked it up.
It’s merely 30-40 pages but Joyce’s writing has left a mark on me. I have to be honest, I haven’t read either Ulysses or Finnegans Wake and this was my first brush with his writing. His poetic sentences and attention to detail is exquisite and it took me two readings to grasp what he intended to do by publishing this ahead of his masterpiece.

My edition also comes with an Introduction by Edna O’Brien and beautifully summarises the scene that the chapter starts off with; two washerwoman sharing gossip, introducing Anna, her bridal day preparations and the main novel’s character Finnegan.

It confused me, intrigued me and reminded me the love for poetic writing!

[Molsa Roja(s)]

Well I could cry a river. I prized myself as a decent English-reader English-speaker and found ecstasy in Dubliners but especially in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man as there are truly wonderful paragraphs if read aloud gently. But I have not understood I believe a single sentence fully during thirty-five pages, and so I do not deem myself worthy of rating this chapter, which probably is an absolute wicked masterpiece for those that are lucky to be able to appreciate it. It is a shame sometimes not having been born Irish, I'd say, so I could read whatever Joyce wrote in his very same speech: there is, though, that joyful fragment of Joyce reading precisely this story, which I shall listen now to forget my inability to grasp the final stages of his genius.

[Jark Lulle · Rating 2 out of 5]

I will not pretend that I understod anything.

[Mónica Mar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Típico de Joyce tener un estudio introductorio de 126 páginas para un sólo capítulo de ese monstruo que es Finnegans Wake. No sabía si leer primero la traducción de Anna Livia o el texto original; en español te recalienta el cerebro y en inglés creo que las neuronas empiezan a hacer implosión. Pero es tan... ah, qué ironía, no encuentro palabras. Shame on me, qué pena con el irlandés menudo que estoy segura tenía la cuna de la lengua en la suya. El día que lea Finnegans Wake, ese día alcanzo la Iluminación.

[TL · Rating 5 out of 5]

'First she let her hair fall and down it flussed to her feet its teviots winding coils. Then, mother-naked, she sampood herself with galawater and fraguant pistania mud, wupper and lauar, from crown to sole. Next she greased the groove of her keel, warthes and wears and mole and itcher, with antifouling butterscatch and turfentide and serpenthyme and with leafmould she ushered round prunella isles and islets dun quincecunct allover her little mary. Peeld gold of waxwork her jelly-belly and her grains of incense anguille bronze. And after that she wove a garland for her hair. She pleated it. She plaited it. Of meadowgrass and riverflags, the bulrush and waterweed, and of fallen griefs of weeping willow. Then she made her bracelets and her anklets and her armlets and a jetty amulet for necklace of clicking cobbles and pattering pebbles and rumbledown rubble, richmond and rehr, of Irish rhunerhinerstones and shell-marble bangles. That done, a dawk of smut to her airy ey, Annushka Lutetiavictch Pufflovah, and the lellipos cream to her lippeleens and the pick of the paintbox for her pommettes, from strawbirry reds to extra violates, and she sent her boudeloire maids to His Affluence, Ciliegia Grande and Kirschie Real, the two chirsines, with respecks from his missus, seepy and sewery, and a request might she passe of him for a minnikin. A call to pay, and light a taper, in Brie-on-Arrosa, back in sprizzling.'

[Juliano · Rating 5 out of 5]

“O tell me all about Anna Livia!” Having written my undergraduate dissertation on James Joyce and his most renowned works Ulysses and, with particular love of mine, the lesser-known/loved Finnegans Wake, I always love returning to these texts in whatever new ways I can. This edition of Anna Livia Plurabelle presents a passage from Finnegans Wake, but in an earlier revision, first published in pamphlet form as an excerpt from Joyce’s then-infamous Work In Progress, which would take seventeen years (!) to become the perplexing masterwork published as Finnegans Wake, a dreamtext that still takes up so much of my (limited) mental space. I always find new things when I return to it. “Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night!”

[Lewis Bloss · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mostly inscrutable but sometimes beautiful.

[Souli Boutis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dontcha no or haven't I ever told ya ALP is where it's *at*

[Fnaught]

I know what's it's trying to do, I just don't know if I like it.

[James Peppercorn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Did I understand a word? No. Did it roll through me? Somehow.

[Tomislav]

imma get back to this with more guiness in my system

[Roger Irish · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the sections of Finnegans Wake that was published before the novel itself has been re-published to mark the anniversary of Joyce's birthday in 2017. It is a beautiful piece that was further re-worked when it was merged into the novel. Hopefully Faber & Faber will re-publish all the sections that were published ahead of the novel, though I'm not sure they have plans to. I love it and it gave me an excuse to re-read a whole section of the book which I have enjoyed again.

The book itself gets 5 stars but the introduction by Edna O'Brien lets it down. It's a reasonable introduction overall, but it does contain two howling mistakes, one of which is outrageous. I'm guessing one is a mistake by EOB, not sure about the outrageous one - either way the editor / proof reader needs to be made to do lines. Joyce's patron was Harriet Shaw Weaver NOT Harriet Weaver Shaw (FFS she signs her letters HSW!!!) and under no circumstances does the title of the book (as opposed to the song) have an apostrophe. (Lots of expletives deleted)

[Kevin]

this book is definitely my prized possession, passed down from my dad, an original first print edition, signed by the man himself. unfortunately, i have no idea how to read this book. i've read some of his earlier works - portrait of an artist, the dubliners - but this one is near incomprehensible for me. to be finished some time in the not so planned future.

[Laginestra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Plurisillabi a rendere i monosillabi, fiumi nascosti che si seccano, versioni a confronto ed il dramma della traduzione, dubbi intorno a questo estratto dell'ancora inaffrontata Veglia di Finnegan, da rileggere ancora e ancora, troppo denso per un giudizio affrettato, troppo denso per farsi amare irrazionalmente.