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[Aetat. 20-21 ] J O Y C E V I I I1C)02-1C)03Paris rawly waking, crude sunlight on her lemon streets. Moist piths offarls of bread, the froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air.Belluomo rises from the bed of his wife's lover's wife, the kerchiefedhousewife is astir, a saucer of acetic acid in her hands. In Rodot's Yvonneand Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teethchaussons of pastry, their mouths yellowed with the pus of flan breton.Faces of Paris men go by, their wellpleased pleasers, curled conquistadores.—Ulysses (42 [52-3])Paris was Dublin's antithesis. The daydream of himself as Dr. Joyce,poet, epiphanist, and physician, surrounded by fair women, was not atall dampened by the small amount of money beyond his fare that hisfather could give him, or by the difficulties which he knew he must soonface. His reception in London kept up his exhilarated spirits. Yeats, informedbeforehand of his arrival time, came to Euston Station at six inthe morning to meet him. Joyce was grateful and, Yeats thought, 'unexpectejdjy^rmajblf';he 'did not knock at the gate with his old IbsenitehiryT^TTie^ older poet spent the whole day with Joyce, wasting, as heruefully reported to Lady Gregory, a good deal of time, but obviouslyanxious to help the young man. He bought him breakfast, lunch, anddinner, paid for cabs, and took him to the people he thought would bemost useful. Yeats thought Joyce could best make his way by writingarticles about French literature, reviews of books, and occasional poems,so he brought him to the offices of the Academy and the Speaker, and inthe evening to the flatof Arthur Symons, who for about ten years hadbeen the principal middleman between Paris and London.Symons was to play as central a part in the publication of Joyce's earlywork as Ezra Pound was to play later. A Cornishman born in Wales,who prided himself on not being English, he had himself come to Londonwhile still young, and had soon persuaded the Londoners that they,111