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[Aetat. 54-57 ]J O Y C Erhythms in French as in English; in French, it seemed to Pelorson, theysounded banal. When Pelorson objected Joyce sighed; he left upon Pelorsonthe impression of being 'a great sigher.' Sometimes, when sighingand translating were equally repugnant, Joyce suggested they go for awalk, and once, during Lent, he proposed they listen to Father Pinardde la Boulaye who was preaching at Notre-Dame. But his main interestwas in the priest's name, Pinard, which he knew was slang for wineduring World War I. He began joking about it, made a limerick inFrench, a mixture of argot and old French four or fivestanzas long witha rollicking tune, and sang it with great hilarity. They ended up withpinard at a bistro, not a cathedral. 39Joyce sometimes went out with Samuel Beckett, of whom he wrote tohis son, i think he has talent,' a compliment in which he rarely indulged.When Beckett presented him with a copy of Murphy, Joyce repliedonly by a bad limerick,There's a maevusmarked maggot called MurphyWho would fain be thought thunder-and-turfy.When he's out to be chic heSticks on his gum dickyAnd worms off for a breeze by the surfy.ParisS. Catherine 39^ ^But later he pleased Beckett by quoting from memory the description ofthe disposal of Murphy's body. 40Beckett reciprocated with an acrostic,'Home Olga,'* which was a joke but an acidic one:J might be made sit up for a jade of hope (and exile, don't you know)And Jesus and Jesuits juggernauted in the haemorrhoidal isle,Modo et forma anal maiden, giggling to death in stomacho.E for the erythrite of love and silence and the sweet noo style,Swoops and loops of love and silence in the eye of the sun andview of the mew,Juvante Jah and a Jain or two and the tip of a friendly yiddophile.O for an opal of faith and cunning winking adieu, adieu, adieu;Yesterday shall be tomorrow, riddle me that my rapparee;Che sara sara che fu, there's more than Homer knows how to spew,Exempli gratia: ecce himself and the pickthank agnus—e.o.o.e.t 41Joyce commented only that 'giggling' should be changed to 'tickled.'"Home Olga' would seem to imply 'Homo Logos,' or word-man. But Beckett disclosedto Lawrence Harvey that he had a homelier and less flattering meaning in mind. At aparty in Ireland a husband, bored beyond bearing, called to his wife, 'Home, Olga!', andbrought her away without thanking the hostess. The expression became a catchphraseand a secret call for flight.t The sense of the poem is perhaps this: 'Joyce might be seen as representing the jadegreen of hope (though in exile) for the overthrow of Catholicism in sterile Ireland, where