James Joyce

This is a site for ReJoycing. For all things Joycean.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Bitch 'n' Putt

With all of its half moons, full stops and cuteness, nothing could disguise it for what it was.

Dear Lady,
I'd like to comment on the things you've made.
You've been past people I know.
You've made things I've never made.
Sir,
I am afraid, I know nothing of you.
Did I make something that you are interested in?
Lady,
Yes, that.

When she discussed it later with him, he had said to her that she had written down that she did not know who he even was. How strange that he had written to her in the first place - the writer. She had been a lover at a strange place and when dropped abroad, she had taken the opportunity to be published.

The book is out in July, under a pseudonym. I hope you enjoy it, she said.
What, really?
Yes.

After that, they both scrabbled around in boxes and drawers for ephemera, details, ledgers, bookmarks, hand-written scrawls, those kind of things you could sell for a fast buck.
Would this make a fiver?
Would this signed piece get anything at a car boot?
Could I steal this from Oxfam? You know the one I gave to them last week - damn, it was signed as well!

Dear Lady,
I like your work, even though it is mere Chick-Lit in the great scheme of things.
Sir,
Do I know you?

They shoved all papers down the back of the settee and raided the jar of coppers on the side to go and buy cigarettes.
Is the book really out in July?
Yes.