Introduction
James Joyce, master of language and literary experimentation, is undoubtedly the author of some of the most memorable onomatopoeias in modern literature. Two words stand out: bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk (100 letters!) and tattarrattat, shorter but no less remarkable. What do these words reveal about the relationship between sound and literature?
The Primal Thunder of *Finnegans Wake*
From the very first lines of *Finnegans Wake* (1939), Joyce makes a powerful statement with this 100-letter word meant to represent a clap of thunder. But it’s more than just an onomatopoeia: it symbolizes the mythical fall of Adam and Eve, the foundational "fall." Here, Joyce creates the first of his ten “thunderwords,” each marking a historical or symbolic upheaval. The word incorporates sound fragments from multiple languages, forming a controlled cacophony in which one can detect thunder-related roots from across the globe.
"Tattarrattat": A Sonic Palindrome in *Ulysses*
Less imposing but equally brilliant, tattarrattat appears in *Ulysses* (1922), where it refers to the sharp, rapid sound of a knock at the door. The word is recognized by the Oxford English Dictionary as the longest onomatopoeic palindrome in English. With its 12 letters, it reads the same backward and forward, perfectly embodying the idea of resonance. It’s a prime example of Joyce’s love for sound play and stylistic effects.
Two Sounds, Two Intentions
If bababadalgharaghta... is a telluric, archaic, and polyglot roar, tattarrattat is a precise phonetic invention, almost minimalist in its construction. Together, they represent the two poles of Joycean experimentation: proliferation and condensation. One rumbles, the other snaps, but both remind us that written language can vibrate like a sound wave.
Conclusion
With these two words, Joyce doesn’t just play with language—he listens to it, makes it resonate, and transforms it into sonic matter. These onomatopoeias are powerful markers of his desire to reconcile orality and writing, noise and meaning. They turn reading into an auditory as well as intellectual experience.
And you—have you ever come across words that struck you more by their sound than by their meaning?