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[ Aetat. 47-5° ] J O Y C E 625publicity Joyce had ever devised. In the newspaper articles he contrivedto have Sullivan mentioned prominently, and Vogt also. His Paris doctorshad given him permission to take off his dark glasses only during theopera, he said (and the journalists obediently reported). It was no wonderthat at manifestations of such zeal Adrienne Monnier and Sylvia Beachasked him why he was doing so much for a little known tenor. But Joycetruculently replied, 'Since I came to Paris I have been introduced to agreat number of recognized geniuses in literature, music, painting andsculpture; for me all these persons are quite sympathetic and friendly, butthey are all, for me, perhapses; there is no perhaps about Sullivan'svoice.' 66He rapidly followed this first fine maneuver in the boxes with another.After Sullivan sang Joyce's favorite aria, 'Asile hereditaire,' in the fourthact,* Joyce shouted in excitement, 'Bravo Sullivan! Merde pour Lauri-Volpi!' There was laughter and applause, though someone in a nearbybox commented, Tl va un peu fort celui-ld!' 6SHe next decided to putpressure upon Sir Thomas Beecham through Nancy Cunard, whom hehad not met. Without hesitation he paid a call on her one day when shewas in bed with throat trouble, groped his way to a chair, and said, i amJames Joyce.' Nancy Cunard's description of the incident gives a fineimpression of his tenacity:Soon he came to the point: Sullivan, a very great Irish singer. Now,Sullivan was not getting the recognition he deserved and this must be setright at once. Well, Lady Cunard, my mother, was a very great friend ofthe orchestra leader, Sir Thomas Beecham, who should be made to realizethat Sullivan must be engaged forthwith. Had Beecham ever heard ofhim? I could not say. Why was Beecham not interested? Well, what he,Joyce, wanted me to do was to use all my influence with Lady Cunard sothat Beecham should hear, and engage, Sullivan. I presume Joyce thoughtthis quite simple. What he probably did not know was that my relationswith her were not of the friendliest; at any rate, I had no 'influence' withher whatsoever—as I now tried to make clear. Joyce would have none ofthat and brushed it aside. I assured him that I would, of course, tell herthat he had come to see me about the matter; more than that I could notpossibly do. I thought he seemed annoyed and did not believe me. Sullivanmust be engaged. And when I reminded him that he knew Lady Cunardhimself and that she would be likely to listen to him, that too wasbrushed aside, and, somehow, I did not feel like recalling to him that shehad been very instrumental, indeed, in 1917 or so, in obtaining publicrecognition for his great talent as a writer, recognition that could not havebeen more official, and on a financial plane, too. Joyce went on: LadyCunard was in Paris now, Thomas Beecham as well, or soon coming,Sullivan was in Paris, and so they must be brought together. I must have* Joyce later proposed to the Giedions a new fourth act for William Tell, in which, toapotheosize Switzerland, countless hotel porters would gather and sing a final triumphantaria. 67