It was such a blowick day.

Extract today from my real-time review HERE of FINNEGANS WAKE by James Joyce.

Page 243
"...it was such a blowick day."
The wildest possible day for our island nations. Meanwhile, I have thought of yet one more of the captured 'captives' of FW, a group of pre- and retro-influences on FW, a group led by Professor Stanley Unwin (who I watched often on 1950s and 1960s b&w British TV) and this extra captive is the eccentric early goth-bangled Dame Edith Sitwell, who like Anthony Burgess (who in his own right was a composer of much opera and other classical music as well as writing Clockwork Orange, Earthly Powers etcicero), appeared on BBC TV Chat shows (she mainly in the 1950s) and she wrote much poetry, including for Walton's Facade, poetry that resonates strongly with the FW prose. I am now beginning to see JJ in FW as a 'captive' or 'captcha' himself, squeezed and flattened within an old-fashioned TV screen morphing into a computer social media Internet screen ... as he narrates from the narrative hospital some coded Jackanory stories for a sort of breed of Children of Midwich. If you are one such child, child-like rather than childish, you will be building for yourself an audit trail of a plot so much easier than anyone else, a plot that cannot be itemised or set out categorically, but a plot you surely are following by a brand of readerly instinct not commonly used, if at all, except in response to reading FW.