Mort

Articles

• #Ulysse 1389
  27 novembre 2015, par Guillaume Vissac

  —Tell you what, M’Coy said. You might put down my name at the funeral, will you ? I’d like to go but I mightn’t be able, you see. There’s a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and then the coroner and myself would have to go down if the body is found. You just shove in my name if I’m not there, will you ?

• #Ulysse 2159
  3 janvier 2018, par Guillaume Vissac

  With awe Mr Power’s blank voice spoke :
  — Some say he is not in that grave at all. That the coffin was filled with stones. That one day he will come again.

• #Ulysse 2198
  11 février 2018, par Guillaume Vissac

  Cremation better. Priests dead against it. Devilling for the other firm. Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers. Time of the plague. Quicklime feverpits to eat them. Lethal chamber. Ashes to ashes.

• #Ulysse 4798
  9 avril, par Guillaume Vissac

  I hope he’s in purgatory now because he went to confession to Father Conroy on Saturday night.

• #Ulysse 1888
  8 avril 2017, par Guillaume Vissac

  Salute. He lifted his brown straw hat, saluting Paddy Dignam.

• #Ulysse 4045
  14 mars 2023, par Guillaume Vissac

  — Man delights him not nor woman neither, Stephen said. He returns after a life of absence to that spot of earth where he was born, where he has always been, man and boy, a silent witness and there, his journey of life ended, he plants his mulberrytree in the earth. Then dies. The motion is ended. Gravediggers bury Hamlet père and Hamlet fils. A king and a prince at last in death, with incidental music. And, what though murdered and betrayed, bewept by all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the dead is the only husband from whom they refuse to be divorced. If you like the epilogue look long on it : prosperous Prospero, the good man rewarded, Lizzie, grandpa’s lump of love, and nuncle Richie, the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the place where the bad niggers go. Strong curtain. He found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible. Maeterlinck says : If Socrates leave his house today he will find the sage seated on his doorstep. If Judas go forth tonight it is to Judas his steps will tend. Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves. The playwright who wrote the folio of this world and wrote it badly (He gave us light first and the sun two days later), the lord of things as they are whom the most Roman of catholics call dio boia, hangman god, is doubtless all in all in all of us, ostler and butcher, and would be bawd and cuckold too but that in the economy of heaven, foretold by Hamlet, there are no more marriages, glorified man, an androgynous angel, being a wife unto himself.

• #Ulysse 3509
  22 septembre 2021, par Guillaume Vissac

  —I noticed he was in mourning.

• #Ulysse 605
  2 octobre 2013, par Guillaume Vissac

  By them, the man with my voice and my eyes and a ghostwoman with ashes on her breath.

• #Ulysse 1922
  12 mai 2017, par Guillaume Vissac

  The mutes shouldered the coffin and bore it in through the gates. So much dead weight. Felt heavier myself stepping out of that bath. First the stiff : then the friends of the stiff. Corny Kelleher and the boy fol- lowed with their wreaths. Who is that beside them ? Ah, the brother-in- law.

• #Ulysse 57
  2 avril 2012, par Guillaume Vissac

  Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes.