In the first of the mongrel paragraphs that conclude Oxen,
the focus turns for a while to Mulligan. His companions' call
to hasten to Burke's pub prompts him to recite a line from Xenophon
about marching, apparently to the exclusion of any actual
marching, because voices urge him to get moving: "No, no,
Mulligan! Abaft there! Shove ahead. Keep a watch on the clock.
Chuckingout
time. Mullee! What's on you?" What's on him next is a
seemingly even more dilatory literary inspiration, a bawdy
French song that begins, "Ma mère m'a mariée" ("My
mother has married me"). But the song has a line, "Retamplan
Digidi Boum Boum," that perhaps lends itself to the
martial chanting that propels the young men down the street.
In a note on JJON, Aida Yared observes that this is
"a traditional French chanson grivoise (bawdy song),
recorded in a number of versions from at least the early
eighteenth century. Sometimes it is the mother who marries off
her daughter, sometimes the father. The bridegroom varies
too––a young man, an old man, a lawyer, etc.––and for each the
rigmarole story takes its own path. / It is likely that the
version to which Joyce alludes is a café-concert version with
lyrics by Raphael May and music by Henri Neuzillet. This was
recorded by the singer ‘Charlus’ (Louis-Napoléon Defer) in
1898-9 on the Pathé label, and was published (and the music
sheet sold) by A. Rouart, of 18 Boulevard Strasbourg in the
18th arrondissement, Paris."
Yared supposes that it is Stephen who sings the song, because
the Montmartre area in the 18th arrondissement is "famous for
its cafés-concerts and cabarets, including Le Ciel––and
L’Enfer, which Stephen most certainly visited and which he
mentions in Circe." (Kevin Egan's "Montmartre
lair" is in the same part of town.) The surmise is
plausible enough, but it does not address the fact that
between the two snippets of "Ma mère" comes the first
announcement of the "British Beatitudes." If this is Stephen's
conceit, as seems highly likely, then he
can hardly be singing the French song at the same time.
Probably a better candidate is Mulligan, who loves singing
dirty songs about women urinating, copulating, and becoming
pregnant.
The song alternates lines of narration with lines of
nonsensical sound. Of "Retamplatan digidi boumboum,"
Gifford remarks that "These nonsense words or something like
them (though rataplan is French for 'drumbeat') are
occasionally added to 'Ma mère m'a mariée" to reinforce its
qualities as a marching song." In the Raphael May version the
words are different. Yared supplies a translation of the
lyrics for all nine stanzas:
My mother has married me
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon [nasally, mouth
closed]
My mother has married me
To the son of a lawyer
A oua, oua, oua
To the son of a lawyer
The first night of our wedding
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
The first night of our wedding
With him I bedded
A oua, oua, oua
With him I bedded
He pulls the cover
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
He pulls the cover
Me I pulled the sheet
A oua, oua, oua
Me I pulled the sheet
I called the maid
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
I called the maid
“Marguerite are you here?”
A oua, oua, oua
“Marguerite are you here?”
Go tell my mother
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
Go tell my mother
That I am about to die
A oua, oua, oua
That I am about to die
My mother who’s quite sharp
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
My mother who’s quite sharp
Was coming up with small steps
A oua, oua, oua
Was coming up with small steps
Don’t worry my daughter
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
Don’t worry my daughter
You won’t die of it
A oua, oua, oua
You won’t die of it
For if I’d died of it
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
For if I’d died of it
You wouldn’t be here
A oua, oua, oua
You wouldn’t be here
You also have a li’l brother
Hun hun hun la ri ra, bon, bon
You also have a li’l brother
That you father doesn’t know
A oua, oua, oua
That your father didn’t make.
