basilicogrammate: the Egyptian royal secretary
U 15.2304: Lipoti Virag, basilicogrammate, chutes rapidly down through the chimneyflue and struts two steps to the left on gawky pink stilts.
Was basilicogrammate a word that Joyce created, or did he come across it in his ‘assiduously farraginous reading’ (Deane)? Bloom’s grandfather ‘Lipoti Virag’ appears from the chimney-flue, clutching a manuscript: ‘on his head is perched an Egyptian pshent’ (double crown), ‘two quills project over his ears’.
The background is Egyptian. Gifford and Seidman correctly cite Paul Van Caspel’s Bloomers in the Liffey (Groningen, 1980, p. 267), who suggests the meaning to be ‘secretary to a king’ or ‘royal scribe’. Andras Ungar (Joyce’s Ulysses as national epic (Gainesville, 2002), p. 61) also doubtless has a point in interpreting the word secondarily as ‘lord of language’. It turns out that the term has a long history before Joyce. The Greek basilikós grammateús (‘kingly scribe’) appears from the 2nd century B.C. in Egyptian papyri (L. Mitteis and U. Wilcken’s Grundzüge und Chrestomathie der Papyruskunde (Leipzig and Berlin, 1912), 233.2), so its protoform is ancient.
But we have to wait until the early nineteenth century before our word begins to appear in modern texts. This was a time of growing interest in things Egyptian. The great French classical scholar, Jean-François Champollion, decipherer of the Rosetta Stone, published his Notice descriptive des monumens égyptiens du Musée Charles X in 1827. On page 65 he states:
And from this point the word was picked up by the European antiquarians. As early as 1829 the Literary Gazette for 19 September excitedly translated some of Champollion’s correspondence:
The basilicogrammate was a powerful scribe in the royal household. There were other ‘grammates’ or scribes, perhaps most notably the hierogrammate or ‘priestly scribe’/‘scribe of the sacred texts’ (the OED includes an entry for this variety). The recent multi-volume historical French dictionary, the Trésor de la Langue Française, contains entries for all three: grammate, hierogrammate, and basilicogrammate (this latter recorded from 1858).
By the mid nineteenth century the word was becoming familiar to the growing band of intrepid tourists to Egypt. English tourists might arm themselves with W. C. Wrankmore’s translation of Moritz Busch’s Guide for travellers in Egypt and adjacent countries subject to the Pasha (London, Trübner, 1858), who informed them in detail about Chamber 16 at the Egyptian complex at Memnonium (modern Ramesseum):
The word basilicogrammate was well established in antiquarian and touristic circles from the middle years of the nineteenth century. How, then, did Joyce come across it?
<flay> appears on the next page:
‘Eg. Not eat heads’: the following sentence on p. 115 reads:
Only <plinth> is out of sequence, appearing as plinths on p. 123 (and later in the singular on p. 132):
On the next page of the Circe notesheets, Joyce lists a further sequence of five tems: <nurtured>, <Yoke of buckets>, <painters singers>, and <1st. thing in the morning>. These terms appear in Busch on pages 14, 48, 83, 181, and 18 respectively (though not exactly in Joyce's order). Note also the figure of the left of the line-drawing between pages 10 and 11 (below), who has some of the features Joyce ascribes to the basilicogrammate.
So a close inspection of the literature shows that Joyce did not create the term ‘basilicogrammate’, but took the term from the literature of Egyptology. Perhaps he even found the term in Wrankmore’s translation of Busch’s travellers’ guide.
John Simpson (Harald Beck)