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[Aetat. 54-57 ) J O Y C E 695 Jsation moved on to Hemingway, and Joyce said, 'We were with him justbefore he went to Africa. He promised us a living lion. Fortunately weescaped that. But we would like to have the book he has written. He's agood writer, Hemingway. He writes as he is. We like him. He's a big,powerful peasant, as strong as a buffalo. A sportsman. And ready to live •the life he writes about. He would never have written it if his body hadnot allowed him to live it. But giants of his sort are truly modest; there 1is much more behind Hemingway's form than people know.'* On O'Neillhe would not comment, except to say that the playwright was thoroughlyIrish. He was more indulgent towards Andre Gide, saying, i like two ofGide's books very well, La Symphonie Pastorale, and Les Caves du Vatican,which is certainly delightful.' Then he burst into anecdote: 'Gideis of course a Communist as you know. Some time ago a young mannamed Armand Petitjean looked him up. When Petitjean was sixteen hebegan to write a giant work on my Work in Progress which he finishedlong before my work was ended. He is now twenty. His book and hisinterests made him a serious admirer of mine, and he went to Gide withthis question: "Maitre, when we have communism in France, whateverwill we do with Joyce?" Gide thought for a long time before he answered,and finallysaid, "Weil leave him be."The talk came round once more to Finnegans Wake. Joyce talked ofwhat it had meant to him to write it. it is a wonderful experience to livewith a book,' he said. 'Since 1922, when I began Work in Progress, Ihaven't really lived a normal life. It has required an enormous expenditureof energy. Having written Ulysses about the day, I wanted to writethis book about the night. Otherwise it has no connection with Ulysses,and Ulysses didn't demand the same expenditure of energy. Since 1922my book has been a greater reality for me than reality. Everything givesway to it. Everything outside the book has been an insuperable difficulty:the least realities, such as shaving myself in the morning, for example.'His remarks gave a sudden insight into his true measure of things; all hisgloomy sense of others' criticism of the book and of his own thwartedefforts to defend it was incidental, even irrelevant, to the experience ofwriting it.'There is,' he went on, 'no connection between the people in Ulysses* Hemingway has said of Joyce, 'Once in one of those casual conversations you havewhen you're drinking, Joyce said to me he was afraid his writing was too suburban andthat maybe he should get around a bit and see the world. Nora Joyce said, "Ah, Jim coulddo with a spot of that lion hunting." Joyce replied, "The thing we must face is that Icouldn't see the lion." His wife was not to be silenced: "Hemingway'd describe him to youand afterwards you could go up and touch him and smell of him. That's all you'd need." ' 1 7According to Hemingway, 'We would go out to drink and Joyce would fall into afight. He couldn't even see the man so he'd say: "Deal with him, Hemingway! Deal withhim!" ' l sJoyce was not always envious of Hemingway's life of action. 'Bach led a very uneventfullife,'he reminded Kay Boyle. 19