Table Of Content]
130.1
Pianola
Ulysses 
paul k. saint-amour
“Does this thing play?” . . .
“Like a musical gorilla with ingers all of one length. And a sort of soul.”
—H. G. Wells, Tono-Bungay (1909)
he pianola “replaces” 
Sappho’s barbitos.
—Ezra Pound, Hugh Selwyn Mauberley (1920)
L 
ITERARY STUDIES HAS A GRAMOPHONE PROBLEM. WHEN REACH- 
ing for a sound-r eproduction technology to set beside literature, 
scholars now habitually grasp the phonographic assemblage. Un-
derstandably so: this is a device whose best- known names—phono-
graph, graphophone, gramophone1—announce its relation to writing, 
speciically its claim to write speech. Much of phonography’s early dis-
course reinforces the conceit of vocal inscription these names encode. 
“Whoever may speak into the mouthpiece of the phonograph,” said 
Scientiic American in 1877, “has the assurance that his speech may be 
reproduced audibly in his own tones long ater he himself has turned 
to dust” (“Wonderful Invention”). In its early stenographic uses, the 
phonograph ofered a means of commercial correspondence. But Edi-
PAUL K. SAINT-AMOUR  teaches in the 
Department of English at the Univer- son cylinder recordings of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, 
sity of Pennsylvania. He is the author  and Mark Twain reading or reciting their work helped turn the tech-
of Tense Future: Modernism, Total War,  nology, through its association with the authorial voice, into an auratic 
Encyclopedic Form (Oxford UP, 2015) and 
end in itself. From the mid- 1880s on, the phonograph also cropped 
The Copy wrights: Intellectual Property 
up as a prized diegetic object in works of iction by Edward Bellamy, 
and the Literary Imagination (Cornell UP, 
Arthur Conan Doyle, Jules Verne, Bram Stoker, and others.2 As Ivan 
2003). With Jessica Berman, he coedits 
Kreilkamp has shown, the device haunts Joseph Conrad’s Heart of 
the book series Modernist Latitudes, at 
Columbia University Press. Darkness (1898), in whose play with disembodied speech it is nowhere 
© 2015 paul k. saint-amour 
PMLA 130.1 (2015), published by the Modern Language Association of America 15
16  Ulysses Pianola  [ PMLA
  named but everywhere implied. And in a num- ment: in amplifying one technology of sound 
ber of celebrated modernist works—James  reproduction, it has efectively muted the rival 
Joyce’s Ulysses (1922), T. S. Eliot’s he Waste  and neighboring regimes in relation to which 
Land (1922), homas Mann’s he Magic Moun- phonography emerged and was deined.3 his 
tain (1924), William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dy- silencing oversimpliies at least two stories: 
ing (1930), Virginia Woolf’s Between the Acts  our account of the discourse networks of the 
(1941), and Ralph Ellison’s he Invisible Man  late nineteenth and early twentieth centu-
(1952)—we ind prominent phonographs wired  ries and our history of the period’s literary 
tightly into the texts’ formal self- conceptions.  soundscapes. Stripped of its competitor and 
No wonder modernist studies has been quick  tributary technologies and thus of its contin-
to appoint phonography its cardinal regime of  gencies, phonography gets conigured as the 
sound recording, storage, and playback—and  unavoidable route to the sonic present, its his-
to ind implicit in the gramophone not just the  tory narrated from that present’s vantage—
audiobook but the book, period. narrated, too, through the speech- writing 
his interest in analog sound reproduc- dialectic native to phonography rather than 
tion has produced a wealth of absorbing  through exogenous terms that could produce 
scholarship. Some of it views the gramophone  a diferent account. While this dialectic holds 
as a death-b ringing object against which mod- sway, even the most historically inclined 
ernism “embraces the audience, the speaker,  students of the connections between sound 
the human connection” by insisting on the  recording and the literary text will tend to 
superiority of live performance (Knowles 2).  understand phonography as either asserting 
More often, scholars of literary phonogra- the primacy of speech over writing or expos-
phy participate in a Derridean critique of  ing speech’s ineliminable ties to diference, 
phonocentrism, reading in the gramophone  delay, absence, and partiality. But this op-
an extreme case of the voice’s detachability  position will underwrite a profounder collu-
from speaker, body, and presence (Stewart;  sion: as long as the celebrants and the critics 
Kreilkamp; Scott). Or they use a text’s pho- of phonocentrism remain inside the speech- 
nographic hardware to entrain literature into  writing complex, they will continue to sustain 
a Kittlerian discourse network—to connect  a deepening regime of gramophonocentrism.
“abstract meanings to real, tangible bodies,  his article ofsets the gramophone prob-
and bodies to regimes of power, information  lem by drawing attention to a technological 
channels, and institutions” (Suárez 748; see  assemblage that was roughly coeval with pho-
also Rice; Sterne). In sorting them this way,  nography, developing alongside it in mixed 
I have made the Derridean and Kittlerian ap- relations of rivalry, symbiosis, intimacy, and 
proaches sound discrete, even incompatible.  indifference, an assemblage whose elements 
But in fact they are powerfully allied, for me- have become variously extinct, exotic, and 
dia histories of phonography receive categori- ubiquitous. I refer to the player piano, or pi-
cal het from a deconstructive speech- writing  anola, a pneumatic playback instrument whose 
analytic they in turn endow with historical  bellows were operated by a human “pianolist” 
depth. he gramophone is not only the pri- pumping two foot pedals or by an electric mo-
mary site of this improbable alliance but also,  tor and whose approach to recording, storing, 
by now, its sign—the technology that millen- and replaying sound contrasts with phonogra-
nial scholars of sound and literature would  phy’s. Where Edison’s analog device physically 
have needed to invent had it never existed. cut sonic vibrations into hard storage materi-
What I am calling our gramophone prob- als, the pianola transcribed the mechanical 
lem arises from the success of this rapproche- elements of a keyboard performance into a
]
130.1   Paul K. Saint-Amour  17
binary machine language encoded in perfora- It might seem too soon to rescue the   
tions on a paper roll. Phonographic playback  player piano, which can still be heard in re-
involved acoustic amplification and varied  cordings and seen in the odd home or pizza 
modestly from one machine to the next; the  parlor. But if the pianola remains in sight, its 
pianola’s pneumatic system translated binary  strangeness has gone into hiding: for most 
code back into mechanical- acoustic events  it is a curiosity unworthy of attention, while 
subject to the idiosyncrasies of the playback  those who do attend to it, whether as boosters 
instrument and capable of being signiicantly  or detractors, have tended to do so in reduc-
altered by the pianolist through expressive  tive or emblematic terms.5 Some of the most 
pedaling, transposition controls, and manual  vehement haters have been postwar novelists. 
levers afecting tempo and dynamics. In Player Piano (1952), his first novel, Kurt 
As against the purely analog phonograph,  Vonnegut made the instrument the master 
the player piano was a binary- analog hybrid,  emblem for a dystopia of automation. Wil-
allowing for greater interactivity even as the  liam Gaddis nursed a pianola obsession for 
sight and sound of the instrument “playing  over five decades, pursuing the instrument 
itself” were at least as uncanny as the phono- through he Recognitions (1955), J R (1975), 
graph’s disembodied voice. Although it used  and the posthumously published Agapē Agape 
its pneumatic lungs to replicate the work of  (2002), whose original subtitle was “A Secret 
fingers—to play rather than to reproduce  History of the Player Piano.”6 Although Gad-
singing or speech—the pianola was dissev- dis was more engaged than Vonnegut with the 
ered neither from the voice nor from the  pianola’s development and cultural history, he 
mark: piano rolls were crisscrossed with mul- too inally saw it as epitomizing technology’s 
tiple forms of writing unique to the medium,  rationalizing energies. Both writers were ex-
including the perforations that activated in- tending a strand of antimechanical modern-
dividual notes, inked tempo and dynamics in- ism that we can trace back at least to Joseph 
structions for the operator, and song lyrics for  Conrad’s The Secret Agent (1907), in whose 
the beneit of singers. he pianola was proto-  Silenus beer hall a clangorous pianola is an 
karaoke: not an acoustic capture of a single  omen of the “perfect detonator” imagined by 
vocal performance for later listening but a  the book’s resident nihilist, the Professor (93). 
spur to participatory singing, a song prompter  Meanwhile, the player piano’s most original 
whose disorienting bottom- to- top manner of  and inluential later- twentieth- century propo-
lyric scanning continues to fascinate poets  nents, the composers Conlon Nancarrow and 
and visual artists.4 And this is to speak only of  György Ligeti, praised the instrument’s ability 
the instrument’s more technical and material  to exceed the precision, speed, and dexterity 
aspects. There will be more to say about its  of human performers, embracing the very as-
cultural ambidexterity as a durable good for  pects of the device that chilled its disparagers. 
brothel and living room, dance hall and con- he pianola has thus been diicult to keep in 
cert hall; its gendering work as prop and stage  focus as a speciic series of assemblages, tend-
for a certain model of bourgeois femininity;  ing to congeal into an ahistorical emblem of 
its play with aura and distance in being able  dehumanizing mechanization or superhu-
to reproduce, with greater and greater idelity,  man capacity. he instrument’s susceptibility 
the nuanced pianism of great performers; its  to allegory is part of the cultural history with 
debatable efects on piano pedagogy and ama- which we will need to come to terms. I propose 
teur music; and its way of alternately vexing  to do this by resubjecting this frozen iconicity 
and materializing the recording, storage, and  to the instrument’s technological and cultural 
playback technology we call the novel. particulars, at the same time  reentangling
18  Ulysses Pianola  [ PMLA
  them with a cultural history of phonography  he insists on the inseparability of these two 
that has become all too discrete. he idea is  laughters—the yes of memory and the yes of 
not to replace one technology—much less one  airmation—Derrida implicitly charges his 
technological determinism—with another.  audience to listen more closely to the latter: 
Quite the contrary: it is to restore some lost  to attend to Joyce’s work less as a “machine 
complexity to the sound- capture, -storage,  of iliation” grounded in professional compe-
and -playback universe to which twentieth-  tence than as a rebuke to competence whose 
century literary works oten turned in testing  preemptive energies are “joyfully dispersed in 
and revising their self- concepts. a multiplicity of unique yet numberless send-
ings” (294, 304). Understood along these lines, 
“Ulysses Gramophone” might as accurately be 
Against Ulysses Gramophone
titled “Against Ulysses Gramophone.”
As a way of weakening our gramophono- Despite its frequent conscription by 
centrism, I would like, a little perversely, to  scholars of literature and sound media, Der-
pay more attention to a particular gramo- rida’s essay is not occupied with the kinds of 
phone: the one Derrida theorizes in “Ulysses  technological and historicist questions that 
Gramophone: Hear Say Yes in Joyce,” which  most concern those scholars. It spends little 
he delivered as the opening address of the  time with the famous gramophone passage 
1984 International James Joyce Symposium  in Ulysses’s “Hades” episode, less with the 
in Frankfurt and subsequently published.7  machine’s reappearance in “Circe,” and none 
hirty years on, Derrida’s essay has become  unfolding the history of phonography or its 
a touchstone for studies of sonic modernity,  engagement by Joyce’s work. In fact, Der-
its identiication of a “gramophone efect” in  rida’s gramophone is less acoustic playback 
Joyce’s novel licensing the argument that lit- device than computer, “programophoned” 
erature might do more than represent sound-  (283), a preprogrammable archive, a “hy-
reproduction media, might imitate, even  permnesic machine” (281). he gramophone 
adumbrate, the gramophone’s grasp of speech  effect in Joyce’s work takes shape as “the 
as inscription (276).8 Without exhaustively re- most powerful project for programming over 
reading “Ulysses Gramophone,” I suggest that  the centuries the totality of research in the 
one price of its touchstone status has been a  onto- logico- encyclopedic field,” and its au-
loss in the essay’s argumentative bandwidth— thor “has at his command the computer of 
a loss, speciically, of Derrida’s critique of the  all memory” (281). Having igured Ulysses as 
oten cited gramophone efect. Far from sim- a gramophonic computer, Derrida imagines 
ply promoting the gramophone as an emblem  Joyce studies as a computer of the same kind: 
of a triumphant antiphonocentrism, Derrida  a remotely searchable compendium of all of 
invokes it, too, as shorthand for a totalizing  Joyce’s works and their critical commentaries, 
drive in Ulysses to archive all knowledge as  ready for ininite queries, operating only in 
well as to preempt all future discourse about  En glish and with a United States patent (286). 
itself. Gramophony in this sense, implicitly a  But the computer is not only a figure for 
form of graphomania, indexes “a yes- laughter  Ulysses’s encyclopedic conceit, or a device for 
of encircling reappropriation, of omnipo- twitting American Joyceans for their mono-
tent Odyssean recapitulation,” an ungener- lingualism. he essay closes with a fantasia 
ous laughter in contrast to which Derrida  about a second machine, an “nth generation 
celebrates “the yes- laughter of a git without  computer that would be up to the task” of 
debt, light airmation, almost amnesic, of a  testing Derrida’s reading of the yes in Joyce. 
git or an abandoned event” (294). Although  his imaginary device would at once fulill
]
130.1   Paul K. Saint-Amour  19
and explode the dream of competence; it  a single recording “in a multiplicity of unique   
would typologize, in all languages, the yeses  yet numberless sendings.” It enables playback 
of the text while also working against typol- while soliciting song.
ogy by understanding how yes eludes meta- To read “Ulysses Gramophone” as a cri-
language; and it would trace the interplay of  tique of what Derrida calls the gramophone 
the two yes laughters without presuming to  efect is not to level the same critique at schol-
separate them through reductive binarisms,  ars of literary phonography, even those who 
instead attending to their doubling, their mu- cite Derrida’s essay as a warrant for their 
tual countersigning, their forming, together,  work. No one who studies the phonograph 
a vibration. “I hear this vibration,” Derrida  would draw a straight line between its par-
writes, nearing the end, “as the very music  ticular technological and cultural capacities 
of Ulysses. A computer cannot today enu- and the abstract work Derrida has it do in 
merate these interlacings, in spite of all the  “Ulysses Gramophone.” But to weaken the 
many ways it can help us out. Only an as yet  affirmative bond between those terms—to 
unheard- of computer could, by attempting to  insist that the essay neither equates Ulysses 
integrate with it, and therefore by adding to it  with a gramophone nor posits the device as 
its own score, its other language and its other  the novel’s logo or coat of arms, that it rather 
writing, respond to that in Ulysses” (308). resists such identifications—allows us to 
Two computers: a present- day one that  consider what ways of reading Ulysses might 
materializes the Joyce industry’s completism  emerge from Derrida’s critique of gramo-
and competence fetish (its gramophone ef- phonocentrism. How might we approach the 
fect) and a future device that would respond  problems of recording, storage, and playback 
uniquely and unforeseeably to what is unique  in Joyce’s book without deepening the rut 
in Ulysses (the very music of Ulysses) instead  of the speech- writing binarism? If, as I have 
of subjecting the text indiscriminately to a  argued, Derrida’s essay subjects the gramo-
string of preset operations. Were Derrida of  phone it names to a haunting by the pianola 
the party of Conrad, Vonnegut, and Gad- it does not, what alternative portrait of the 
dis, he would have named the bad computer  novel might appear under the sign of that 
ater the player piano, that emblem of dead- spectral instrument, with its self- depressing 
ening mechanization. But the pianola goes  keys?9 And what uninvited guest might come 
unmentioned by Derrida, despite playing as  to occupy the player piano’s empty bench?
prominent a role in Ulysses as the gramo-
phone. Nevertheless, an essay that names the 
Mechanical Music Makers
gramophone without dwelling on it can be 
understood to dream of, without naming, the  So far I have pitted the gramophone and the 
pianola: a device whose “computer reading-  pianola against each other, in part because, 
head” registers the music of Ulysses by add- as we will shortly see, the “Circe” episode in 
ing to it its own score (307)—an assemblage  Joyce’s novel stages a kind of duel between 
comprising a scrolling code, a given instru- them. But the gramophone and the pianola 
ment with unique timbres, a singer or sing- were, if not born together, at least reared 
ers, and the inimitable acoustics of a room.  in adjacent nurseries. As the two media 
In exceeding its own binarity—in quantizing  emerged, they were oten spoken of in a sin-
music without dematerializing it, in subject- gle breath—“linked,” says the historian David 
ing the purity of its signal to the noise and  Suisman, “as two aspects of a single phenom-
risk of multiple contingencies—the pianola  enon” (17). he United States Copyright Act 
instantiates the yes of airmation, dispersing  of 1909, he reminds us, handled them under
20  Ulysses Pianola  [ PMLA
  a single legal device, the new compulsory  standard piano, making it visible as already 
mechanical license, which permitted the cre- extravagantly mechanical. We might think of 
ation of “mechanical reproductions” (as dis- the player piano as a reading of the piano—or, 
tinct from copies) for a preset royalty, without  equally, as the piano’s metaictive turn: as ma-
the consent of the copyright owner. Writing  terializing the piano’s self- understanding as 
during the debates that led up to the 1909 act,  mechanism. Among the things it underscores 
the composer John Philip Sousa also lumped  is the standard piano’s conscription of a hu-
the phonograph and the player piano together  man player less as an agent of self-e xpression 
as “mechanical reproducing machines” in  than as a part of the instrument’s sound- 
deploring their efect on amateur musician- reproduction mechanism. Classical players, in 
ship. Not least that of American girls: “let the  particular, spend years developing disciplined 
mechanical music- maker be generally intro- techniques, oten involving repetitive biome-
duced into the homes; hour for hour these  chanical relex conditioning, in order to ex-
same girls will listen to the machine’s perfor- ecute pieces in the manner designated by the 
mance and, sure as can be, lose inally all in- composer. As Suisman puts it, “[T] he point of 
terest in technical study.” A single- technology  the player’s labor was, just as it would be later 
view of the phonograph or the pianola misses  with increasingly mechanized technologies, 
how they were paired, even conflated, by  reproduction of sounds determined earlier, 
copyright law and by those who saw “the me- by someone else” (21–22); in other words, the 
chanical music- maker” as a unified regime  alpha version of the player piano was the clas-
posing one dire threat to amateur music.  sical pianist. his sounds darkly Foucauldian, 
And another threat to a musically interpo- but it might prompt us to reconsider Sousa’s 
lated model of femininity: the girl who would  deploration over amateur music’s death at 
rather listen to a player piano than practice  the hands of mechanical music makers. Say 
her scales would have her counterpart in the  for the sake of argument that the “technical 
phonograph- wielding mother at bedtime.  study” of the piano, even for nonprofession-
As Sousa asks, “[W] ill she croon her baby to  als, required the acquisition of competence 
sleep with sweet lullabys, or will the infant be  (to use Derrida’s word) through numbing, 
put to sleep by machinery?” (281). strenuous, repetitive discipline. Perhaps then 
I will consider, below, how Ulysses rep- the pianola, long accused of dehumanizing 
licates and travesties the pianola’s staging of  musical expression, should be reclaimed as an 
gender. But before turning to Joyce’s novel,  emancipatory technology: as a device to root 
we should dwell on the piano itself for a mo- out routinization. his would be to ind the 
ment, to prize it apart from its automation  pianola’s relexive turn exposing as fake the 
and to ask why a novel might ind one of its  organicism that surrounds the standard in-
self- concepts in a player piano as opposed to  strument—to ind metaiction publishing the 
the standard instrument. To call the pianola a  hidden regimens of iction.
mechanized piano is to imply that the piano 
alone is not already mechanical. But, as Suis-
Ulysses’s Pianola
man again reminds us, the modern pianoforte 
results from centuries of Western keyboard-  The pianola makes its appearance late in 
instrument development crossed with  Joyce’s book, in the hallucinatory “Circe” epi-
nineteenth- century industrial manufacturing.  sode, written in the form of a dramatic script. 
Not an incursion of mechanism, the pianola  Leopold Bloom has followed the inebriated 
is an intensification of it. This realization  Stephen Dedalus and his friend Lynch into 
helps dispel any organic fantasies about the  Dublin’s red- light district, where they have
]
130.1   Paul K. Saint-Amour  21
entered a brothel run by Bella Cohen. here,  (472; 15.4137–39). here follows a long para-  
through an open window, the Yorkshire- born  graph in which the lyrics of the pianola’s song 
sex worker Zoe hears a group of people in the  are interspersed with references to earlier epi-
street singing “My Girl’s a Yorkshire Girl”: sodes in the novel; at the end of this, a vision 
of Stephen’s dead mother rises through the 
 zoe loor, precipitating one of the episode’s crises.
hat’s me. (she claps her hands.) Dance! Dance!  Pianola, like zipper, thermos, and heroin 
(she runs to the pianola.) Who has twopence?
(and, for that matter, gramophone and pho-
 bloom
nograph), is a proprietary eponym—a term 
Who’ll . . .?
that started out as a brand name but became 
 lynch
a generic, in this case for any player piano. So 
(handing her coins.) Here. . . .
we will not expect to be able to identify the 
 zoe
(turns the drumhandle.) here. speciic instrument in “Circe.” Instead, in ac-
(She drops two pennies in the slot. Gold,  cord with the episode’s dream logic of conden-
pink and violet lights start forth. The  sation, what we ind is a conlation of several 
drum turns purring in low hesitation  discrete machines, a synchronic capsule his-
waltz. Professor Goodwin, in a bowknot- tory of the player piano. As if in answer to 
ted periwig, in court dress, wearing a  Bloom’s asking, “Who’ll . . .?” (play the pi-
stained Inverness cape, bent in two from 
ano, presumably), Professor Goodwin, Molly 
incredible age, totters across the room, his 
Bloom’s former accompanist, now retired, 
hands luttering. He sits tinily on the pia-
appears. His age and the “handless sticks of 
nostool and lits and beats handless sticks 
arms” he lits and beats on the keyboard make 
of arms on the keyboard, nodding with 
him an anthropomorphic version of the Aeo-
damsel’s grace, his bowknot bobbing.) 
lian piano player, or “push- up player” (ig. 1), a 
 (468–69; 15.4004–22; 1st ellipsis in orig.)
separate device that was wheeled up to a regu-
The table is pushed to one side so that Ste- lar piano until its sixty- five leather-c overed 
phen and Zoe can dance as Bloom looks on. ingers were positioned over the correspond-
ing keys. But earlier in the episode Bloom 
(The prelude ceases. Professor Goodwin,  had heard piano playing from the street—“A 
beating vague arms, shrivels, shrinks, his  man’s touch. Sad music. Church music” (387; 
live cape falling about the stool. he air in  15.1278)—and, thinking the touch might be 
irmer waltz time sounds. Stephen and Zoe 
Stephen’s, had asked Zoe whether Stephen 
circle freely. he lights change, glow, fade 
was inside. Once he enters the music room 
gold rosy violet.)
eight hundred lines later, Bloom indeed inds 
 the pianola
Stephen standing at the instrument—“with 
Two young fellows were talking about  
two ingers [repeating] once more a series of 
    their girls, girls, girls,
empty iths” (410; 15.2072–73). he accessibil-
Sweethearts they’d let behind . . . . . . 
  (469; 15.4047–53) ity of the keyboard here implies not a push-u  p 
player but an “inner player” (fig. 2), an up-
The pianola continues to speak or sing the  right piano with the pneumatic and mechani-
words to the song, as if it were part gramo- cal stack of the push- up player built into its 
phone. As the dancers whirl with greater  cabinet. hese instruments irst appeared in 
abandon, the stage directions mime their dip  the late 1890s, which squares with Zoe’s ask-
and spin. An apparition of Stephen’s father,  ing Bloom, in the wee hours of the novel’s 16 
Simon, says, “hink of your mother’s people!”  June 1904 setting, “Are you coming into the 
to which Stephen responds, “Dance of death”  music room to see our new pianola?” (408;
[ 
22  Ulysses Pianola  PMLA
 
F . 1
IG
Ad for a push-up 
pianola.
15.1990–91). But the fact that Zoe can select  not surprise us much given that the song “My 
a particular tune by “turn[ing] the drumhan- Girl’s a Yorkshire Girl” was not published un-
dle” indicates an instrument with a sophisti- til 1908, four years ater the novel’s action. In 
cated device permitting multiple rolls, such  Ulysses’s Homeric intertext, Circe can see the 
as Wurlitzer’s Automatic Music Roll Changer  future. What would have been chronological 
(ig. 3). hese precursors of the jukebox would  howlers in other episodes seem commensurate 
have been installed in coin- operated instru- with the porous temporality of Joyce’s “Circe.”
ments such as the Wurlitzer IX (ig. 4), whose  Looking closely at the ad for the Auto-
electriied motor relieved humans of having  matic Music Roll Changer, we see the menu 
to pump and whose backlit art- glass front  “Classical, Opera, Songs, Dances, or the Na-
could have supplied those fairground- like  tional Airs,” indicating the broad variety 
“gold, pink and violet lights” that start forth.  of musical genres available as pianola rolls. 
Machines like this did not appear until 1910  A playback machine with easily exchanged 
at the earliest, but such anachronisms should  rolls could play almost any kind of music and
]
130.1   Paul K. Saint-Amour  23
FIG. 2  
Ad for an inner 
player (Everybody’s 
Magazine, 1900).
[ 
24  Ulysses Pianola  PMLA
 
FIG. 3
Ad for the 
Wurlitzer Auto-
matic Music 
Roll Changer.
Description:up as a prized diegetic object in works of fiction by Edward Bellamy,. Arthur Conan  ical avatar, the pianola, is a theater of absence, a machine .. Proust's description of Albertine at the pianola. (389–90), juxtaposed with Marcel's memory of her riding a bicycle  Put Another Nickel In: A Histor