Ah James Joyce, grandfather of modernism and Ireland’s leading literary figure. He of Ulysses, Dubliners, Finnegan’s Wake, and other books you’ll never read. You are perhaps familiar with Joyce’s literary interest in the rude physicality of the human form, and the voracious lasciviousness of man’s libidinous urges, but were you aware of the tendency towards the perverse and kinky in his personal life?
As a young man, living in Trieste and Zürich, Joyce frequently corresponded with his distant paramour, Samuel Beckett. The ‘The Prick with the Stick’, seeking to “anatomise and reconstitute and crystallize the emotion of love”, became quite graphic in his embrocations. We present our top five Joycean love letters.
No 5 – Like a Hog Riding a Sow
My love for you allows me to pray to the spirit of eternal beauty and tenderness mirrored in your eyes or fling you down under me on that softy belly of yours and fuck you up behind, like a hog riding a sow, glorying in the very stink and sweat that rises from your arse…
No 4 – Backwards Fucking
Now I can remember that night when I fucked you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes.
No 3 – Costumes
Fuck me dressed in your full outdoor costume with your hat and veil on, your face flushed with the cold and wind and rain and your boots muddy, either straddling across my legs when I am sitting in a chair and riding me up and down with the frills of your drawers showing…
No 2 – Scatology
Does it give you the horn now to shit? I wonder how you can do it. Do you come in the act of shitting or do you frig yourself off first and then shit?
No 1 – Your Little Cockey
Tickle your little cockey while you write to make you say worse and worse. Write the dirty words big and underline them and kiss them and hold them… under your dear little farting bum.
Hope you’re well and the weathers keeping off,
Big Cockey J-Ho
You can read more of Joyce’s letters to Beckett in their graphic entirity, here.