James Joyce: Finnegans Wake (The Ballad of Persse O'Reilly)

For this year's challenge, I open my dog-eared copy of Finnegans Wake to page 44, to croak out my rendition of “The Ballad of Persse O'Reilly". *

(*From the French perce-oreille - or earwig, hence the cognomen of the hero of our story: Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker, whose rumored nefarious deeds are recounted herein.)

As with my previous entries from 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2018 - don't overthink it, just enjoy the ride.

Sláinte.

For Halloween: A classic horror story from Mister Poe . . .

You can listen to my previous Poe readings at these links for 2014, 2015 and 2017.

For April Fool’s Day . . .

Lewis Carroll: A Mad Tea-Party, from “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”

It’s St. Patrick’s Day, and time for my fourth annual reading from James Joyce’s linguistically challenging masterpiece.

This year, I turn to page 169, with the beginning of Joyce’s unflattering (and somewhat autobiographical) portrait of Shem the Penman.
 
As I’ve cautioned in my previous entries
from 2015, 2016 and 2017 . . .
 
Don’t try to figure it out. Just enjoy the ride.
 
Slaínte.

​From Stave II of Dickens’ classic . . .

Ebenezer Scrooge and The Ghost of Christmas Past visit some old friends.

Charles Dickens: Mr. Fezziwig’s Ball, from “A Christmas Carol”

(You can hear my reading of Scrooge’s encounter with Marley’s Ghost here.)

A little dark humor from the Master of the Macabre . . .

(You can listen to my previous Poe readings here and here.)

​’Tis St. Patrick’s Day, and time for my third annual assault on Finnegans Wake.
 
This year, I open the Wake to page 21, and the tale of Jarl van Hoother and the Prankquean.
 
As with the 2015 and 2016 challenges, bluffing is permitted, encouraged . . . and mandatory.

Don't worry if much of this is incomprehensible. Because if it did make perfect sense, it would mean one of two things:

a.) You’ve had a wee bit too much Guinness and need to slow down, or . . .
 
b.) You are James Joyce, and have been dead for the past 76 years.
 
Slaínte.

A selection from Dickens' classic . . .

Charles Dickens: Marley’s Ghost, from “A Christmas Carol”

​For Halloween: Robert Burns’ classic story of witches and warlocks . . . and a mare’s tail.

Note: While this poem is technically in English, a short summary with a few “translations” may be in order. (A quick Google search should supply further details.)

​Here goes . . .
 
One dark and stormy night, following an evening’s revelry with his pal “Souter (cobbler) Johnie” by the fireside (“ingle”) of the Lord’s House Inn at Ayr, and fortified by the landlady (“Kirkton Jean”) with many draughts of ale (“nappy” or “reaming swats”), our hero Tam, with his faithful mare Maggie, ventures forth on his long road home (“hame”).
 
As he nears the end of his journey, and approaches the bridge over the River Doon (“brig o’ Doon”), his path takes him by the ruins of the old haunted church (“kirk”) at Alloway, where Tom observes a gathering of warlocks and witches (“carlins”) dancing about in their nightshirts (“sarks”) to the tune of the piper - none other than “Auld Nick” himself, in the shape of a large shaggy dog (“towzie tyke”) at the window seat (“winnock bunker”).
 
Tam’s attention is riveted by the dancing and capering - and rather short nightshirt (“cutty sark”) - of Nannie, a particularly “winsome wench”. As the festivities reach their peak, Tam can no longer contain his admiration as he roars out his approval: “Weel done, cutty-sark!”
 
Mayhem ensues. Nannie and the “hellish legion” give chase, while Tam and Maggie make a mad dash for the keystone (“key-stain”) of the bridge, hoping to reach the safety of the other side. (“A running stream they dare na cross.”)
 
. . . and thereby hangs a tail.