Multilingualism Studies and the Wake
Multilingual writers thoroughly populate the European and global literary canon: from Ovid to Dante , from John Milton to James Clarence Mangan, from the nineteenth and all the way through to the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, polyglots such as Joseph Conrad, Samuel Beckett, Vladimir Nabokov, Joyce of course, and numerous contemporary and postcolonial authors, including Chinua Achebe, Salman Rushdie, NgĆ©gÄ© wa Thiongâo, Maryse CondĂ©, Marlene NourbeSe Philip, and J. M. Coetzee, among countless others, have embodied the solid multilingual foundations of world literature. Medieval scholarship has had a sustained interest in social and textual multilingualism because, as Mark Amsler points out, âMultilingualism and language mixing were the norm in later medieval Europe.â1 However, affectionately as we may hold the works of numerous modern and contemporary multilingual writers in our increasingly globalised world, modern multilingualism studies as a field of research only began to formally emerge in Anglophone and European scholarship in the 1960sâ1970s. New Zealand scholar Leonard Forsterâs small book of lectures on multilingualism, The Poetâs Tongues (1970), has been credited as the first discrete study of literary multilingualism in Anglophone writing from the Middle Ages through to the twentieth century. Although Forster had published earlier short articles in German on the subject,2 The Poetâs Tongues offered the very first encompassing (albeit sketchy) survey of what the author calls the âproblems of multilingualism in literature.â3 Identifying multilingualism as a âproblemâ in literature is in itself quite telling of the systematic ways in which multilingual writing has tended to occupy a secondary, often easily overlooked, position in relation to literary forms described as fluent and monolingual. Even Joyceâs Finnegans Wake, a text so inextricably multilingual that over 80 different languages (and counting!) have been identified in it,4 has contended with an overwhelming resistance against its multilingual form in the course of its history.
Undeniably, the
Wakeâs multilingual form makes it âdifficultâ to read; it is a âproblem,â especially for readers not quite prepared for the intellectual, relational, and even physical challenges it presents. Joyceâs patron, Harriet
Shaw Weaver, who was also the most unyielding champion of his work in his lifetime, wrote to him in the early stages of
Work in Progress that âI do not much care for the output from your Wholesale Safety Pun Factory nor for the darknesses and unintelligibilities of your deliberately-entangled language system. It seems to me you are wasting your genius.â
5 She was one among many friends, acquaintances, and reviewers who simply did not get it, and these early readers would not be the last to dismiss this unapologetically difficult multilingual text so readily. A mere flick through Demingâs
James Joyce: The Critical Heritage will reveal a copious collection of cranky critiques of the work, including Mary
Columâs 1927 review for the
New York Herald Tribune, where she muses that âHis new work [âŠ] is likely to prove all but entirely incomprehensible to anybodyâ and adds: âno literary critic could possibly admit that a work, of which any considerable portion was written like this, could belong to the domain of literature.â Ever crankier was
Desmond McCarthy, reviewing under the pseudonym â
Affable Hawkâ for the
New Statesman in May of 1927:
But though every deformation of word and sentence in this passage is intentional and deliberate, it should no more provoke laughter than the attempt of the unfortunate sick man to state that he took his dog out in the morning. It should disgust. The taste which inspired it is taste for cretinism of speech, akin to finding exhilaration in the slobberings and mouthings of an idiot.6
McCarthyâs descent into aggressive
eugenicism was appalling (and sadly not atypical for the time
7), but while such readerly rage may not find expression in quite such offensive terms across all critical assessments, the fact that the
Wakeâs multilingual form has confused, exasperated, and upset plenty of readers remains clear. Associations of multilingualism and intellectual
disability were also not uncommon in Joyceâs lifetime and they persisted even in scholarship through to the late twentieth century. The most pressing issue that recurs in the
Wakeâs harshest criticisms is its âobscurity,â brought about by multilingualismâs âsystematic darkeningâ (to borrow John Bishopâs coinage) of what is implicitly the illuminating clarity of monolingual alternatives. Multilingualismâs most unforgivable crime becomes its irreverent revolt against all borders of sense.
Joyceans have tackled the bookâs linguistic difficulties head-on through their painstaking efforts to produce plot summaries,8 copious elucidation catalogues such as Roland McHughâs Annotations to âFinnegans Wakeâ, glossaries,9 and reference databases such as the Finnegans Wake Extensive Elucidation Treasury (FWEET),10 which of course are all successors of the collectively gathered treasury of the Wake Newslitter .11 All of these are aimed at a monolingual Anglophone readership, even though many of the contributors were and are far from monolingual, monocultural, or even natively Anglophone. What makes the Wake particularly special is its ability to break down the divides not only between languages and cultures but also between experts and non-experts, between disciplines, interests, and communities. Its multilingualism might render it one of the worldâs most democratic works of literature: in theory, it perplexes everyone equally, and equally every Wake reader needs to invest plenty of time and patience in researching its thousands of intertextual, historical, cultural, and linguistic references to come to grips, at least in part, with the stories Joyce might have been trying to tell. It is indicative that Wake scholarship was pioneered not by full-time academics working in isolation but by an eclectic community of readers, many of whom multilingual, with no certified authority in the disciplineâsuch as Adaline Glasheen, a housewife; Fritz Senn, a proofreader and translator; Petr Ć krabĂĄnek, a doctor; Roland McHugh, a biologistâwho simply enjoyed playing Joyceâs elaborate language games. Even the academics who authored the earliest published studies of the Wake, like David Hayman, Matthew J. C. Hodgart, and Clive Hart, owed significant parts of their analyses to the micro-research done by everyday readers like the contributors to the Wake Newslitter. Glasheenâs First, Second, and Third Census of âFinnegans Wakeâ and McHughâs Annotations to âFinnegans Wakeâ continue to serve as key reference guides, while even the most seasoned Joyce scholars continue to attend Wake reading groups where readers of all levels and linguistic repertoires are encouraged to contribute to an overbrimming melting pot of textual references and interpretations.
Even though plenty of readers concede that the Wake cannot readily be centred on a single languageâUmberto Eco characterises it as a âplurilingual text written as an English speaker conceived of one,â12 while Juliette Taylor-Batty points out that whatever English we might find in it has been âdeformed beyond recognitionâ13âit has proven difficult not to position Joyceâs monumental last work as a kind of English-language text. Wake translators, for one, have frequently had to occupy a pragmatic stance on the intrinsic value of English to the work, in spite of its multilingualism. Several translators have reported having to work on the premise that the Wake is âbasically an English book,â14 albeit âdistorted English,â15 whilst major Joyce scholars have produced landmark studies of the multilingual form as a mechanism of âinterferenceâ and an âobstruction to the understanding of a message,â16 or as a means of âsystematic darkeningâ that peculiarly illuminates the bookâs subject matter: the night.17 A degree of âmonolingualisationâ has therefore proven unavoidable for readers not only trying to âunderstandâ the text to a reasonable degree but also to be able to practically handle it in translation.
The search for these moments of illuminating clarity in the apparent âdarknessâ or âobscurityâ of the Wakeâs multilingual form has therefore preoccupied most, if not all, of its readersâincluding, admittedly, this reader. In Chap. 3, for example, I develop a new framework for interpreting what I have identified as the Wakeâs phonological patterning system in order to offer more tools for navigation through the boundless narrative and linguistic complexity of Joyceâs text. Chapter 4, meanwhile, will elucidate several of the Wakeâs Russian translations for the benefit of Anglophone readers, and Chap. 6 will show that whatever the background or interests of the reader, âmonolingualisationâ becomes a necessary form of interpretation in literary engagement with the Wake and beyond it. Engagement with an-other, be that an-other text, artwork, language, or person, has to involve a degree of familiarity and recognition in what is otherwise a boundlessness of difference. We cannot touch and be touched by literature unless we locate the familiar, the âtouchingâ textuality within it; and we can only be âtouchedâ by ideas that we can understand at least in part.
Nonetheless, although monolingualising the multilingual monster has proven necessary and perhaps even inevitable for Joyceâs readership, some obvious yet elusive questions remain: what if we approached literary multilingualism as a unique form of illumination, rather than a means of âsystematic darkeningâ? What if the Wakeâs ideal reader was not a native English or Irish English speaker, or a âfluentâ reader in any sense, but rather someone willing to occupy the position of the foreigner: the multilingual reader? Who would that multilingual rea...