JAMES JOYCE’S FINNEGANS WAKE
Episode 018:
Courtroom Drama & Thunderword
PAGE 86:32-92:5 OF CHAPTER 4 | 2025-11-20
PODCAST AUDIO
PODCAST TRANSCRIPT
[Music: Instrumental of “The Ballad of Persse O’Reilly” with Adam Seelig on piano and Brandon Bak on drums, from the film of Finnegans Wake Ch03. Music fades out]
Adam Seelig: Welcome to James Joyce’s divine and delirious comedy, Finnegans Wake. In this episode, number 18, we’ll hear Irish-Canadian actor — and my good friend and colleague — Richard Harte performing pages 86 to 92 from Chapter 4 of Joyce’s last novel. I’m Adam Seelig, the director of the reading you’ll soon hear.
Actors Pip Dwyer & Richard Harte with EU Film Fest Artistic Director Jérémie Abessira (centre) at the screening of Chapter 3, Toronto 2025-11-18.
I want to thank the Toronto European Film Festival for recently screening the “strawberry frolic” excerpt from Chapter 3 of our Finnegans Wake film series (you can hear the audio of that excerpt in Episode 14 of our podcast series). And I want to thank Kenji Hayakawa, Yuta Imazeki, and Kaori Hirashige for screening our films at their terrific event in Tokyo last month — I’m honoured and delighted to have been there for it in person. Last but not least, thank you to everyone in Toronto and Tokyo who attended these events.
[Music: Adam Seelig plays piano]
Adam Seelig: Finnegans Wake is a production of One Little Goat Theatre Company. For the next five years, One Little Goat will film and record all 17 chapters (roughly 30 Hours) of Joyce’s Finnegans Wake before live audiences in various locations, screening and releasing them along the way, with the aim of completing the entire book in time for its 90th birthday, May 4, 2029. One Little Goat Theatre Company is an official charity in Canada and the United States — if you’d like to support our work, please visit us online at www.OneLittleGoat.org to make a charitable donation. To get in touch, you’ll find our email address on the One Little Goat Theatre Company website and we’d love to hear from you.
[Music fades out]
Adam Seelig: The poster text for the 1992 American legal comedy My Cousin Vinny starring Joe Pesci and Marisa Tomei says the following: “There have been many courtroom dramas that have glorified The Great American Legal System. This is not one of them.” Likewise, today’s excerpt from Finnegans Wake is no advertisement for Ireland’s Halls of Justice. What you’re about to hear in the dream language of the Wake is more theatre than trial as the court calls unreliable witnesses in pursuit of the elusive facts of HCEarwicker’s alleged sin. And what was that sin again of Finn-again’s Wake? It was sexual in nature. Though aren’t all human beings sexual in and by nature? The evidence building against HCE adds a dark salaciousness to the sexuality: “But it oozed out in Deadman's Dark Scenery Court through crossexanimation of the casehardened testis” (87:33-34). By the sounds of it, this case will be — to borrow a favourite phrase of police procedurals — not only a hard nut to crack, but a hard nutsack.
This brings us back to the biggest sex scandal in Irish history that led to the downfall of politician Charles Stewart Parnell in the late 1800s. As I mentioned in Episode 008, the scandal of Parnell falling for Katherine (or Kitty) O’Shea, then falling from political grace, is an eminently relatable tale because, as the Wake reminds us on virtually every page, humanity fell from grace the moment Eve and Adam were swayed by the snake and ate the forbidden fruit. And as Adeline Glasheen has shown, Parnell and the trials surrounding his affair with O’Shea pervade Finnegans Wake (Ep011).
The O'Shea-Parnell Divorce Case (1890). Source: National Library of Australia.
Portrait of Katherine O’Shea, The O'Shea-Parnell Ddivorce Case (1890). Source: National Library of Australia.
As for Adam and Eve, it would be more accurate to say that it was Eve who fell for the forbidden fruit first and in turn brought Adam down with her. So the Book of Genesis, in essence, scapegoats women for man’s fall. That’s precisely what happens in the trial of today’s excerpt: prosecutor leads witness to point finger at sinful women.
We saw this scapegoating strategy before in the “strawberry frolic” of Chapter 3 (Ep014), which encourages us to cherchez la femme, that is, ‘look for the woman’ to blame. In the language of the Wake, woman merges with fire, “Cherchons la flamme!” (64:28), and also fans those flames: “Fammfamm! Fammfamm!” (64:28-29) Similarly, in today’s excerpt, the prosecutor loads his misogyny with suggestions of hellfire and the devil himself, or herself. It’s no wonder that the 100-letter thunderword with which he emphatically concludes his questioning is made up of various phonemes meaning ‘whore.’ In a moment, we’ll take a look at this thunderword, the fourth in the novel, with a recap of the three that preceded it.
We left off the previous podcast episode (Ep017) with Crown attorney P.C. Robort questioning a disheveled character named Festy King. Now a new witness takes the stand to provide “Remarkable evidence” (86:32). He is identified not merely as an eyewitness, but as “an eye, ear, nose and throat witness,” who, as you might expect of an ENT, lives in a medical district at the address “Nullnull, Medical Square”. He’s also identified by the initials “W.P.” (86:32-34). Even Adeline Glasheen, in her thorough Census of Finnegans Wake has put an asterisk by her entry for “W.P.”, and as she explains, “An asterisk means I don’t know who somebody is.” Our ENT might be a version of Joyce’s friend Oliver St. John Gogarty (the model for Buck Mulligan in Ulysses), who was, among many things, an ENT, and/or he might, as John Gordon suggests, be a reference to Oscar Wilde’s father, also an eye and ear specialist, who lived at Two Merrion Square at the centre of Dublin’s medical establishment. Our witness, W.P. has had a little to drink in the morning, not unlike Tim Finnegan of the “Finnegan’s Wake” folk song (Ep001), and he tells the court that he saw — and heard and tasted and smelled, as is his wont — a man known as Hyacinth O’Donnell committing some violence, though W.P.’s account is questionable given how late and dark it was at the time.
Diary of the Parnell Commission (1890), John Macdonald.
The rowdy courtroom gallery cries out for O’Donnell to take the stand, and he does. Who is O’Donnell? He’s identified as a “mixer” (87:13, 88:4) — which strikes me as a characteristically Wakean, fluid identity — and his name, as Glasheen points out, echoes that of John MacDonald, author of the account of the Parnell Commission that inspires the trial of today’s excerpt.
And the exchange between prosecutor and O’Donnell is inspired indeed as the former mines the latter for evidence that might incriminate HCE. Our prosecutor is resourceful, clever, creative, at times seeming to go easy on the witness, at others setting traps, dropping hints, talking in code, changing tac, and ultimately leading the witness with question after question. So what was HCE’s crime, his sin? Perhaps, as the Wake often suggests, it was Original Sin itself, partaking of the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. As the prosecutor asks, “In the middle of the garth, then?” To which O’Donnell responds, “That they mushn’t toucht it.” (90:14-15) From here, not unlike the OG tale of Genesis, prosecutor scapegoats women for the fall. He may not have a smoking gun for HCE, but at least our prosecutor’s got someone to blame, culminating in his rabid 100-letter thunderword.
“Adam and Eve,” Titian, ca. 1550. Source: Museo del Prado.
The ten thunderwords of Finnegans Wake are extraordinary, as is Richard Harte’s delivery of them. Here, as promised, is a recap of the three preceding 100-letter thunderwords for your listening pleasure.
This is the first one, on the opening page, built out of multilingual phonemes meaning, appropriately, thunder:
[Richard Harte reads Finnegans Wake 3:15-18.] The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparr of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy. (Ep002)
Just as thunder here falls dramatically from the sky, so Tim Finnegan falls from his ladder; and just as Tim Finnegan falls, so too does Jarl van Hoother from his fortress at the conclusion of the prankquean fable, generating the second thunderword, also comprised of phonemes for thunder:
[Richard Harte reads Finnegans Wake 23:5-9.] And the duppy shot the shutter clup (Perkodhuskurunbarggruauyagokgorlayorgromgremmitghundhurthrumathunaradidillifaititillibumullunukkunun!) And they all drank free. For one man in his armour was a fat match always for any girls under shurts. (Ep005)
Walter De Maria, “The Lightning Field” (1977), New Mexico. Source: Dia.
The tale of the fall, as we discovered from the first thunderword, is retold through the ages, and indeed the second thunderword has told us again of the fall, this time of man falling to woman, male standing no chance against female — a phenomenon dating back to the mythological dawn of humanity, when Eve tempted Adam and woman perverted man.
The third thunderword, combining the crash of a fallen glass with the clap of a crowd gathered to hear Hosty’s salacious ballad with the crap the shit-talking Hosty is about to unload on HCE, adds to our protagonist’s moral fall — here the multilingual phonemes all signify ‘shit’:
[Richard Harte reads Finnegans Wake 44:13-15.] It’s cumming, it’s brumming! The clip, the clop! (All cla) Glass crash. The (klikkaklakkaklaskaklopatzklatschabattacreppycrottygraddaghsemmihsammihnouithappluddyappladdypkonpkot!). (Ep009)
And the fourth thunderword, which you’ll soon hear in today’s excerpt, leans viciously, and ludicrously, into the perceived culpability of woman in the continual fall of man.
Following the thunderword, we hear from a witness named Pegger Festy, who may be a transformation of Festy King, the first person to take the stand (in our previous episode). Like Festy King before him, Pegger Festy appears to be a disheveled mess. Pegger sounds like beggar; it’s also slang for ‘hard drinker’; and it’s also Hebrew for ‘corpse’ — perhaps Pegger likes to drink himself stiff? In any event, here he provides laughable testimony resulting in, well, laughter from the courtroom.
Now it’s time for Richard’s performance of James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, 86 line 32 to page 92 line 5 of Chapter 4. The performance was filmed and recorded at Type Books on Queen Street West in Toronto on January 22nd, 2024 with a live audience.
[Richard Harte reads Finnegans Wake 86:32-92:5.]
[86] Remarkable evidence was given, anon, by an eye, ear, nose
and throat witness, whom Wesleyan chapelgoers suspected of
being a plain clothes priest W.P., situate at Nullnull, Medical
Square, who, upon letting down his rice and peacegreen cover-
disk and having been sullenly cautioned against yawning while
[87] being grilled, smiled (he had had a onebumper at parting from
Mrs Molroe in the morning) and stated to his eliciter under his
morse mustaccents (gobbless!) that he slept with a bonafides and
that he would be there to remember the filth of November,
hatinaring, rowdy O, which, with the jiboulees of Juno and the
dates of ould lanxiety, was going, please the Rainmaker, to
decembs within the ephemerides of profane history, all one with
Tournay, Yetstoslay and Temorah, and one thing which would
pigstickularly strike a person of such sorely tried observational
powers as Sam, him and Moffat, though theirs not to reason why,
the striking thing about it was that he was patrified to see, hear,
taste and smell, as his time of night, how Hyacinth O'Donnell,
B.A., described in the calendar as a mixer and wordpainter, with
part of a sivispacem (Gaeltact for dungfork) on the fair green
at the hour of twenty-four o'clock sought (the bullycassidy of
the friedhoffer!) to sack, sock, stab and slaughter singlehanded
another two of the old kings, Gush Mac Gale and Roaring
O'Crian, Jr., both changelings, unlucalised, of no address and
in noncommunicables, between him and whom, ever since wal-
lops before the Mise of Lewes, bad blood existed on the ground
of the boer's trespass on the bull or because he firstparted his
polarbeeber hair in twoways, or because they were creepfoxed
andt grousuppers over a nippy in a noveletta, or because they
could not say meace, (mute and daft) meathe. The litigants, he
said, local congsmen and donalds, kings of the arans and the dalk-
eys, kings of mud and tory, even the goat king of Killorglin,
were egged on by their supporters in the shape of betterwomen
with bowstrung hair of Carrothagenuine ruddiness, waving crim-
son petties and screaming from Isod's towertop. There were
cries from the thicksets in court and from the macdublins on the
bohernabreen of: Mind the bank from Banagher, Mick, sir! Pro-
dooce O'Donner. Ay! Exhibit his relics! Bu! Use the tongue
mor! Give lip less! But it oozed out in Deadman's Dark Scenery
Court through crossexanimation of the casehardened testis that
when and where that knife of knifes the treepartied ambush was
laid (roughly spouting around half hours 'twixt dusk in dawn,
[88] by Waterhose's Meddle Europeic Time, near Stop and Think,
high chief evervirens and only abfalltree in auld the land) there
was not as much light from the widowed moon as would dim a
child's altar. The mixer, accordingly, was bluntly broached, and
in the best basel to boot, as to whether he was one of those
lucky cocks for whom the audible-visible-gnosible-edible world
existed. That he was only too cognitively conatively cogitabun-
dantly sure of it because, living, loving, breathing and sleeping
morphomelosophopancreates, as he most significantly did, when-
ever he thought he heard he saw he felt he made a bell clipper-
clipperclipperclipper. Whether he was practically sure too of his
lugs and truies names in this king and blouseman business? That
he was pediculously so. Certified? As cad could be. Be lying! Be
the lonee I will. It was Morbus O' Somebody? A'Quite. Szer-
day's Son? A satyr in weddens. And how did the greeneyed
mister arrive at the B.A.? That it was like his poll. A cross-
grained trapper with murty odd oogs, awflorated ares, inquiline
nase and a twithcherous mouph? He would be. Who could bit
you att to a tenyerdfuul when aastalled? Ballera jobbera. Some
majar bore too? Iguines. And with tumblerous legs, redipnomi-
nated Helmingham Erchenwyne Rutter Egbert Crumwall Odin
Maximus Esme Saxon Esa Vercingetorix Ethelwulf Rupprecht
Ydwalla Bentley Osmund Dysart Yggdrasselmann? Holy Saint
Eiffel, the very phoenix! It was Chudley Magnall once more
between the deffodates and the dumb scene? The two childspies
waapreesing him auza de Vologue but the renting of his rock
was from the three wicked Vuncouverers Forests bent down
awhits, arthou sure? Yubeti, Cumbilum comes! One of the ox-
men's thingabossers, hvad? And had he been refresqued by the
founts of bounty playing there — is — a — pain — aleland in
Long's gourgling barral? A loss of Lordedward and a lack of sir-
philip a surgeonet showeradown could suck more gargling
bubbles out of the five lamps in Portterand's praise. Wirrgeling
and maries? As whose wouldn't, laving his leaftime in Black-
pool. But, of course, he could call himself Tem, too, if he had
time to? You butt he could anytom. When he pleased? Win and
[89] place. A stoker temptated by evesdripping aginst the driver who
was a witness as well? Sacred avatar, how the devil did they
guess it! Two dreamyums in one dromium? Yes and no error.
And both as like as a duel of lentils? Peacisely. So he was pelted
out of the coram populo, was he? Be the powers that be he was.
The prince in principel should not expose his person? Mac-
chevuole! Rooskayman kamerad? Sooner Gallwegian he would
say. Not unintoxicated, fair witness? Drunk as a fishup. Askt to
whether she minded whither he smuked? Not if he barkst into
phlegms. Anent his ajaciulations to his Crosscann Lorne, cossa?
It was corso in cursu on coarser again. The gracious miss was
we not doubt sensible how yellowatty on the forx was altered?
That she esually was, O'Dowd me not! As to his religion, if
any? It was the see-you-Sunday sort. Exactly what he meant by
a pederast prig? Bejacob's, just a gent who prayed his lent. And
if middleclassed portavorous was a usual beast? Bynight as useful
as a vomit to a shorn man. If he had rognarised dtheir gcourts
marsheyls? Dthat nday in ndays he had. Lindendelly, coke or
skilllies spell me gart without a gate? Harlyadrope. The grazing
rights (Mrs Magistra Martinetta) expired with the expiry of the
goat's sire, if they were not mistaken? That he exactly could not
tell the worshipfuls but his mother-in-waders had the recipis for
the price of the coffin and that he was there to tell them that
herself was the velocipede that could tell them kitcat. A maun-
darin tongue in a pounderin jowl? Father ourder about the
mathers of prenanciation. Distributary endings? And we recom-
mends. Quare hircum? No answer. Unde gentium fe . . . ? No ah.
Are you not danzzling on the age of a vulcano? Siar, I am deed.
And how olld of him? He was intendant to study pulu. Which
was meant in a shirt of two shifts macoghamade or up Finn,
threehatted ladder? That a head in thighs under a bush at the
sunface would bait a serpent to a millrace through the heather.
Arm bird colour defdum ethnic fort perharps? Sure and glomsk
handy jotalpheson as well. Hokey jasons, then, in a pigeegeeses?
On a pontiff's order as ture as there's an ital on atac. As a gololy
bit to joss? Leally and tululy. But, why this hankowchaff and
[90] whence this second tone, son-yet-sun? He had the cowtaw in his
buxers flay of face. So this that Solasistras, setting odds evens at
defiance, took the laud from Labouriter? What displaced Tob,
Dilke and Halley, not been greatly in love with the game. And,
changing the venders, from the king's head to the republican's
arms, as to the pugnaxities evinxed from flagfall to antepost
during the effrays round fatherthyme's beckside and the regents
in the plantsown raining, with the skiddystars and the morkern-
windup, how they appealed to him then? That it was wildfires
night on all the bettygallaghers. Mickmichael's soords shrieking
shrecks through the wilkinses and neckanicholas' toastingforks
pricking prongs up the tunnybladders. Let there be fight? And
there was. Foght. On the site of the Angel's, you said? Guinney's
Gap, he said, between what they said and the pussykitties. In the
middle of the garth, then? That they mushn't toucht it. The de-
voted couple was or were only two disappainted solicitresses on
the job of the unfortunate class on Saturn's mountain fort? That
was about it, jah! And Camellus then said to Gemellus: I should
know you? Parfaitly. And Gemellus then said to Camellus: Yes,
your brother? Obsolutely. And if it was all about that, egregious
sir? About that and the other. If he was not alluding to the whole
in the wall? That he was when he was not eluding from the whole
of the woman. Briefly, how such beginall finally struck him now?
Like the crack that bruck the bank in Multifarnham. Whether he
fell in with what they meant? Cursed that he suppoxed he did.
Thos Thoris, Thomar's Thom? The rudacist rotter in Roebuck-
dom. Surtopical? And subhuman. If it was, in yappanoise lan-
guage, ach bad clap? Oo! Ah! Augs and ohrs with Rhian O'-
kehley to put it tertianly, we wrong? Shocking! Such as turly
pearced our really's that he might, that he might never, that he
might never that night? Treely and rurally. Bladyughfoulmoeck-
lenburgwhurawhorascortastrumpapornanennykocksapastippata -
ppatupperstrippuckputtanach, eh? You have it alright.
Meirdreach an Oincuish! But a new complexion was put upon
the matter when to the perplexedly uncondemnatory bench
(whereon punic judgeship strove with penal law) the senior
[91] king of all, Pegger Festy, as soon as the outer layer of stuccko-
muck had been removed at the request of a few live jurors,
declared in a loudburst of poesy, through his Brythonic inter-
preter on his oath, mhuith peisth mhuise as fearra bheura muirre
hriosmas, whereas take notice be the relics of the bones of the
story bouchal that was ate be Cliopatrick (the sow) princess
of parked porkers, afore God and all their honours and king's
commons that, what he would swear to the Tierney of Dundal-
gan or any other Tierney, yif live thurkells folloged him about
sure that was no steal and that, nevertheless, what was deposited
from that eyebold earbig noseknaving gutthroat, he did not fire
a stone either before or after he was born down and up to that
time. And, incidentalising that they might talk about Markarthy
or they might walk to Baalastartey or they might join the nabour
party and come on to Porterfeud this the sockdologer had the
neck to endorse with the head bowed on him over his outturned
noreaster by protesting to his lipreaders with a justbeencleaned
barefacedness, abeam of moonlight's hope, in the same trelawney
what he would impart, pleas bench, to the Llwyd Josus and the
gentlemen in Jury's and the four of Masterers who had been all
those yarns yearning for that good one about why he left
Dublin, that, amreeta beaker coddling doom, as an Inishman was
as good as any cantonnatal, if he was to parish by the market steak
before the dorming of the mawn, he skuld never ask to see sight or
light of this world or the other world or any either world, of Tyre-
nan-Og, as true as he was there in that jackabox that minute, or
wield or wind (no thanks t'yous!) the inexousthausthible wassail-
horn tot of iskybaush the hailth up the wailth of the endknown ab-
god of the fire of the moving way of the hawks with his heroes in
Warhorror if ever in all his exchequered career he up or lave a
chancery hand to take or throw the sign of a mortal stick or stone
at man, yoelamb or salvation army either before or after being
puptised down to that most holy and every blessed hour. Here,
upon the halfkneed castleknocker's attempting kithoguishly to
lilt his holymess the paws and make the sign of the Roman God-
helic faix, (Xaroshie, zdrst!— in his excitement the laddo had
[92] broken exthro Castilian into which the whole audience perse-
guired and pursuited him olla podrida) outbroke much yellach-
ters from owners in the heall (Ha!) in which, under the mollifi-
cation of methaglin, the testifighter reluctingly, but with ever so
ladylike indecorum, joined. (Ha! Ha!)
[End of excerpt]
Adam Seelig: That was Richard Harte reading pages 86 to 92 of Chapter 4 from Finnegans Wake, recorded live at Type Books on Queen Street West in Toronto on January 22nd, 2024. Join us for Episode 19 in a fortnight when Richard continues Chapter 4 of Finnegans Wake. In the meantime, to be sure you don’t miss the episode, why not follow or subscribe to this podcast?
[Music: Instrumental of “Roll, Jordan, Roll” with Adam Seelig on piano and Brandon Bak on drums, from the film of Finnegans Wake Ch03.]
For more on One Little Goat’s Finnegans Wake project, including transcripts of this podcast and the complete films of Chapters 1 and 2, visit our website at OneLittleGoat.org. And to hear about upcoming performances and screenings, join our mailing list, also on our website. One Little Goat Theatre Company is a nonprofit, artist-driven, registered charity in the United States and Canada that depends on donations from individuals to make our productions, including this one, possible. If you’re able, please make a tax-deductible donation through our website, www.OneLittleGoat.org Finnegans Wake is made possible by Friends of One Little Goat Theatre Company and the Emigrant Support Programme of the government of Ireland. Thank you for your support! And thank you to the artists for this episode: Richard Harte; Sound by William Bembridge; Stage Management by Sandi Becker; Directed by yours truly, Adam Seelig. A big thanks to Claire Foster and the staff and owners of Type Books, as well as to our wonderful live audience. Thank you to everyone at the Irish Consulate in Toronto. And thank you to Production Consultants Cathy Murphy, Andrew Moodie and Shai Rotbard-Seelig. Thank you for listening!
[Music fades out]
[End of Ep017]
Resources: Transcript for this episode, including the text of Finnegans Wake.
Finnegans Wake (1939) by James Joyce: there are many free copies of FW to read online or download, e.g. finwake.com
James Joyce Digital Archive, “Chicken Guide” to Finnegans Wake provides a ‘plain English’ paraphrase of each chapter by Danis Rose.
Richard Ellmann’s biography of James Joyce. Oxford University Press, 1982.
Edmund Epstein, A Guide through Finnegans Wake. University Press of Florida, 2009.
Adaline Glasheen, Third Census of Finnegans Wake: An Index of the Characters and Their Roles, University of California Press, 1977.
John Gordon’s annotations on his Finnegans Wake blog.
Roland McHugh, Annotations to Finnegans Wake (4th edition). Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016.
Raphael Slepon, fweet.org
William York Tindall, A Reader’s Guide to Finnegans Wake. Syracuse University Press, 1996.