Not least of the bewildering ways in which Proteus plunges the reader into the waves of Stephen's thoughts, with little connection to the dry land of plot, dialogue, and action, is its refusal to translate his kaleidoscopic multilingualism into English. After some scattered phrases in Italian, German, and Latin, Stephen leans into French, the foreign language that most colors the shifting verbal fabric of the chapter. Stephen is fluent in French, and he thinks of the brief time he lived in Paris as a would-be artist in exile. His internal monologue becomes peppered with language that he remembers from those days. This note, and two subsequent ones, translate those bits of French speech and provide some contextualizing interpretation.

JH 2014

Cafe, Boulevard des Italiens, 1927 lithograph by unknown artist. Source:

Pencil and ink sketch by Jean Vincent. Source: