Not least of the bewildering ways in which Proteus
plunges the reader into the waves of Stephen's thoughts, with
little connection to the dry land of dialogue and action, is
its refusal to translate his kaleidoscopic multilingualism
into English. Just as Dante's phrase maestro di color che
sanno introduces a number of thoughts in Italian, Gotthold Lessing's terms nacheinander
and nebeneinander trigger further expressions in
German. As a young man Joyce studied German in order to read
Hauptmann's plays (Ellmann 76, 87) and he continued to learn
more of it during his years in Europe (including especially
some time spent living in Zurich), but he never became as
fluent in the language as he was in French and Italian.
Stephen thinks of the two elderly women who cautiously
descend the steps from Leahy's Terrace as "Frauenzimmer,"
a word for women that has dismissive, derogatory connotations,
like the English "wenches." Gifford notes that the word meant,
"originally, 'a lady of fashion,' subsequently, and in
contempt, 'a nitwit, drab, sloven, wench.'"
After a long recollection of a French-language conversation
that he held in Paris with Patrice Egan, Stephen concludes
with the German word "Schluss," or
Ending, Conclusion. Gifford translates the sense contextually
as "the mild exclamation 'enough!'"
Still later in Proteus, Stephen thinks of his fear
of the water in comparison to Mulligan's heroism, asking
himself, "Would you do what he did? A boat would be near, a
lifebuoy. Natürlich, put there
for you." The German word, meaning Naturally, carries the same
sardonic self-mockery as Stephen's Italian expression "O si,
certo!" (Yeah, right!) a bit
earlier.