15b. Circe, Part 2

[Suzann]

Stephen seems to be attached to his ashplant. I was wondering if it might parallel his development. He drags it in Proteus, it's called his crutch later, and he uses it to break the chandelier and throws it in the street in this episode. Even if it's in anger, it's an assertive use of his stick in this episode. Any thoughts on whether the ashplant is relevant, and how?

[Lily]

In his book Ulysses And Us, I found Declan Kiberd's chapter 15, "Dreaming", related to Circes to be useful. (I haven't read the entire book, but got frustrated enough with "Circes" that I went looking for help, even above and beyond all of you posting here.)

It doesn't particularly lend itself to post-type sharing, but a sample tidbit or two:

"...'Circe' is not really chronological, but set in the timeless zones of the Unconscious."

"As he wrote Ulysses, Joyce sometimes wore four watches, each telling a different time. His characters live mostly in personal time, fortified in their privacy by the realisation that the city's many clocks keep public time....Joyce was obsessed with notions of relativity and parallax....."

"...The vision of Rudy carries a warning about the dangers of immersing oneself in a written text and losing the capacity for everyday living..."

(The build around this passage is intricate -- and may be relevant to our youth hid within texting.)

"...his [Bloom's] submission of the problems of everyday life to solution in dreams has become part of his new shamanic knowledge. He has accepted the fact that knowledge acquired by intuition is helpful to living the full life."

Anyway, if in a library with a copy, others here may find it worthwhile pulling Kiberd from the shelf and dipping here and there for a little while.

[Thomas]

Susan wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Bloom's sins set in motion the drama that unfolds...."

But Joyce rejected sin and the church. Although I can see how others might find evidence to support a religious interpretation..."

I don't see a religious interpretation either, but I do see a fair amount of religion. Joyce may have rejected the Church, but he could not entirely leave it. It was a part of him, just as Ireland was. He left them both, but they concerned him greatly and he wrote about them for the length of his career.

In a similar way, Bloom does not consciously feel guilt over his sexual pecadilloes, and he does not consciously take responsibility for the death of his son. His thought is too "scientific" or practical to do that. Bloom's guilt lies below the rational surface; it only comes out when his thoughts drift (at which point he quickly quashes that train of thought and we get the "..." as in "I am a...") or in this episode, where his subconscious mind cannot be controlled.

[Lily]

Patrice wrote: "It is a question that appeals to me now, with a daughter in Korea I'm living in two different time zones on any given day. It's l5 hours and a day ahead in Korea. My mind is always flitting back and forth between the time zones...."

I think you've got it -- at least one aspect. Don't know if this is useful, but another tidbit from Kiberd:

"The modern world of public time tends to dominate and order lives -- but the experience of attacks and retreats done to strict schedule through World War I had brought such time-bound efficiency into question, making people nostalgic for an Edwardian world in which people moved through time rather than feeling moved by it. Ulysses was a help in that regard, for it shows Bloom who can integrate his private past - even the memory of his dead mother - into a serene present and an open future. Stephen is quite different:...."

One may or may not agree with Kiberd's insights. Even where I did not or even was uncertain of his meaning, I found him useful. I've used him only for Circes so far.

[Thomas]

Susan wrote: "Stephen seems to be attached to his ashplant. I was wondering if it might parallel his development. He drags it in Proteus, it's called his crutch later, and he uses it to break the chandelier and..."

And he leaves it behind in the brothel. Does this mean anything?

[Lily]

Patrice wrote: "Oh Lily, could you please share some of those tropes? I don't read modern fiction so this is all new to me..."

I was looking at one sequence from a source commenting on Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See earlier this morning and did not quote it because it seemed such an inadequate articulation of the techniques the post-modern writers are pulling from their Aesop's bags. I feel as if Joyce packed an indecipherable number of them into Ulysses. Many of them do pertain to how humans use, manipulate, live in, and are duped by memory -- narrative order, identity, point-of-view, fantasy, paradox, fragmentation (words, sounds, experiences, plot), gaps, .... Attempts to deal simultaneously with chaos and fractal order.

Nuruddin Farah's Maps is the text I experienced an instructor using to expose us to these techniques.

[Lily]

@73Thomas wrote: "I don't see a religious interpretation either, but I do see a fair amount of religion.....Bloom's guilt lies below the rational surface; it only comes out when his thoughts drift (at which point he quickly quashes that train of thought..."

If posts had a "like" button, the entire @73 would get one from me. Thx, Thomas.

[Suzann]

Thomas wrote: "Bloom's guilt lies below the rational surface; it only comes out when his thoughts drift (at which point he quickly quashes that train of thought and we get the "..." as in "I am a...") or in this episode, where his subconscious mind cannot be controlled.
..."

There are many ways to read this, but I don't find guilt to be the driving force at any point, even in this episode. I think Joyce chose Bloom to have a mushy identity to defy expected solutions. I think Joyce made fun of the Church and achieved personal independence from the guilt of his early upbringing. I think his characters are also independent of religious doctrine and guilt and he is using his knowledge of Eastern and other spiritual approaches to weave a more universal solution. I agree that JOyce continues to write about religion, but like Stephen he refuses to kneel, and although he continues to consider his relationship to religion I think it's an exploration in which guilt does not dominate.

[Suzann]

In reading about Woman in the Dunes (Abe Kobo) I found a description of the main character which seems applicable to Bloom. I will quote/paraphrase/twist to my liking, substituting Ulysses in the statement. Maybe I'm just a sucker for the word "voices"!

Ulysses does not present a single conclusion about identity in a unified voice; it borrows the different ideas and languages circulating in the text and tries to reconcile or balance these styles in a constructive way. Bloom is in a state of ideological becoming, choosing from the styles (maybe roles in this episode) around him to devise his own style (identity), and that is how Bloom balances his own freedom with the needs and demands of others: by balancing these voices.

Maybe the voices are personified in this episode and Bloom must balance them rather than purge. Granted this concept references a Japanese work by an author from a different cultural world view and therefore not fruitfully applied.

[Suzann]

Sochack said, "When we look in the mirror, we recognize a gap between our internal image of ourselves and the external image others see", which reminded me of the mirror at the end of the episode. Maybe it's the convergence, or reconvergence of the internal and external Stephens and Blooms, a theatrical necessity for closure of Nighttown and return to the real world. Funny that Shakespeare butts in!

[Thomas]

There's a moment in Nausicaa where Bloom wonders about the "mystery man" walking on the beach.

Walk after him now make him awkward like those newsboys me today. Still you learn something. See ourselves as others see us. So long as women don't mock what matter? That's the way to find out. Ask yourself who is he now. The Mystery Man on the Beach, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom.

Seeing Bloom as others see him might be one reason why Ulysses is told from several points of view, each one in their own peculiar style. I agree with the comment @81 that this does not result in a single conclusion. At times the picture it presents is inconsistent, even contradictory. But there is nothing wrong with that. I'm not sure those different points of view even need to be balanced or reconciled. They just are.

[Suzann]

Thomas wrote: "At times the picture it presents is inconsistent, even contradictory. But there is nothing wrong with that. I'm not sure those different points of view even need to be balanced or reconciled. They just are. .."

Do you think the balance is achieved by the reader who intuitively balances the inconsistencies or does Joyce create balance by linguistic juxtaposition of inconsistencies? Creation or perception or the same thing?

[Linda]

Thomas wrote: "At times the picture it presents is inconsistent, even contradictory. But there is nothing wrong with that. I'm not sure those different points of view even need to be balanced or reconciled. They just are."

I'm currently reading a book which tells the same story from seven points of view (Seven Types of Ambiguity). The group I'm reading it with is having a great discussion so far as we are halfway through the book and so have "seen" four POVs so far. We keep trying to figure out who is reliable and who isn't (given their states of mind, their personal backgrounds, etc), and so what the actual truth is. Someone brought up the point that each person's story is their own personal truth because each person filters the same information through their own emotional filter. So in fact, it may be moot to try and reach a single conclusion.

Not sure if this comment brings anything new to this particular discussion, but your comment made me think of this other similar discussion.

[Thomas]

Susan wrote: "Do you think the balance is achieved by the reader who intuitively balances the inconsistencies or does Joyce create balance by linguistic juxtaposition of inconsistencies? Creation or perception or the same thing? ..."

It's been interesting reading this with a group to see how others deal with the inconsistencies in Bloom's character. Some people jumped straight out in Calypso and made judgements about Bloom. Later those judgements softened a bit. Later on there is cause for judgement again. All of which is perfectly natural, and nothing new. Homer's Odysseus is a classical hero with some admirable qualities, but he's also a consummate liar. Can those things be balanced?

My take on it is that Bloom's disparate qualities can be balanced by the reader, if the reader chooses to do so. I don't think Joyce does it. Patrice has mentioned Picasso a few times, and I think it's a good analogy -- when I look at Picasso's work it often seems that the pieces of the painting or collage don't belong together. He takes competing perspectives and puts them in the same frame, so that it doesn't look right from a single point of view. One can either accept that the final image is a composite of several different perspectives, or blur it in the mind's eye so that it comes together somehow. It is most natural, I think, to blur it, so that it looks familiar and identifiable and less self-contradictory. But Joyce doesn't give us that blur -- he gives us a thousand details which coalesce to create a whole person, but not a consistent personality.

[Thomas]

Linda wrote: "I'm currently reading a book which tells the same story from seven points of view (Seven Types of Ambiguity). The group I'm reading it with is having a great discussion so far as we are halfway through the book and so have "seen" four POVs so far."

Is this based on William Empson's 7 Types of Ambiguity? It sounds a bit like Rashomon, but I do think Joyce is up to the same thing, though not as explicitly. Joyce loves to suggest a thing rather than to say it, which means there will always be a certain amount of ambiguity.

[Linda]

Thomas wrote: "Is this based on William Empson's 7 Types of Ambiguity?"

I have not read or looked up this book at all so I can't say for sure, but the character in Elliot Perlman's book in which the plot revolves around mentions Empson's book and names his dog Empson.

[Wendel]

Thomas wrote: "Susan wrote: "Do you think the balance is achieved by the reader ..." ...but not a consistent personality

Here we have a man with many qualities and one obsession. Is 'inconsistent' the right word to describe this situation? And are we not overly concerned with moral judgements?

My problem with both Bloom and Stephen is that they feel incomplete - that may be the reason why I prefer to read them as the intellectual and sensitive dimensions of one personality.

[Lily]

Linda wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Is this based on William Empson's 7 Types of Ambiguity?"

I have not read or looked up this book at all so I can't say for sure, but the character in Elliot Perlman's ..."

A quick synopsis is here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Ty...

You roused my curiosity, Linda. The entry for Empson is interesting, too, but I didn't delve into it.

[Thomas]

Wendel wrote: "Here we have a man with many qualities and one obsession. Is 'inconsistent' the right word to describe this situation? And are we not overly concerned with moral judgements? "

We might be thinking about different situations. The question of inconsistency came from Susan's observation @66: "I don't see that Bloom has sinned. He makes choices that haven't hurt anyone and, in my opinion, it's only external judgement that labels his choices as sinful." I don't disagree with that, but it's also pretty clear from this episode that Bloom has some guilt on his conscience. He doesn't show it in his rational daily life, but it's there beneath the surface. His conscious life is inconsistent with his subconscious guilt. This is not abnormally inconsistent, in fact I think it's perfectly typical of human nature, but it's not consistent either.

[Kathy]

It occurs to me that the shifts in form, from theatrical to contemporary romance to legalese to archaic, etc. are part of Joyce's way of showing us the "identity crisis" or the fractured identity of Bloom--and, I think, of Stephen, too. I'm beginning to feel that this is the point of the entire novel, this inability of Bloom to finish the sentence "I Am A..." because who he is/isn't is constantly shifting. He is Jewish but not Jewish, Irish but not Irish, married but not married, the father of a son but not the father of a son, and like his identity and like the form of the writing itself, the characters wander too, all over Dublin. This is, at least, how the novel is beginning to come together for me.

[Thomas]

Kathy wrote: "It occurs to me that the shifts in form, from theatrical to contemporary romance to legalese to archaic, etc. are part of Joyce's way of showing us the "identity crisis" or the fractured identity o..."

Nicely put. Bloom writes that fragment, "I am a..." in the sand. "Some flatfoot tramp on it in the morning. Useless. Washed away." Like Keats's epitaph: "Here lies one whose name was writ in water."

Incidentally, Bloom loves water. Stephen hates it.

[Lily]

Thomas wrote: "Incidentally, Bloom loves water. Stephen hates it. ..."

Water is life; water is baptism.

[Thomas]

Lily wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Incidentally, Bloom loves water. Stephen hates it. ..."

Water is life; water is baptism."

(view spoiler)[There is a long rambling passage in the next episode (17. Ithaca) about why Bloom loves water. At first glance it seems totally irrelevant to anything, but now we know why it's there...just between you and me. (hide spoiler)]

[Wendel]

Thomas wrote: "Wendel wrote: "Here we have a man with many qualities and one obsession." ... it's also pretty clear from this episode that Bloom has some guilt on his conscience...."

OK, no sin, but unconscious guilt. But I also fail to see that in the text, unless we allow ourselves to interpret Bloom's masochism this way. However, while Freud might have done so, I believe Joyce did not. In fact, his rejection of Freud may have everything to do with his own deviant sexual experience.

Neither do I see signs of an identity-crisis. On the contrary, Bloom’s reflections on race and religion are relaxed and those on the theme of father and son express melancholy rather than struggle. In all this he is a well-balanced man, and yet there is this obsession. The force of unreason. Bloom is made so perfect only to heighten this contrast (rather than inconsistency).

Where there is no sin, conscious or unconscious, there is also no need for catharsis. So I must find an alternative explanation for Circe. Perhaps Bloom discovers that the spell can be broken, at least temporarily? That 'love' too is theater and that while the actor cannot change the script (his sexual identity), he is still not without means and influence?*

And finally we see Bloom uniting with Stephen and Shakespeare under the sign of the antler (the decisive moment?). Intellect and (the blind force of) life united in art. Yes, that would definitely be a step forward from the somewhat sterile philosophical finale of 'A Portrait'.

*PS - the fact that Circe is 'staged' implies that it is not 'real' in the sense that the other episodes are. Likewise Bloom may start to see that his obsession is not 'real'. Though I would not expect any great and permanent changes in a Joycean character, things tend to moves in circles here.

[Wendel]

Lily wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Incidentally, Bloom loves water. Stephen hates it. ..." Water is life; water is baptism."

And water is formless, like Bloom's flexibility. But of no use for and hated by the poet. Or - on second thoughts (see my previous post) - the philosopher.

[Wendel]

Finally, while we are discussing important aspects of the book, I think Burgess is right in seeing Ulysses primarily as a comic novel: There is the awful danger of solemnity, which turns readers as well as writers into bloody owls (p.178).

[Wendel]

Sorry, one more quote. I was checking William Empson on Wikipedia and found this one from his "Ulysses: Joyce's Intentions" in Using Biography:

It thus came to be tacitly agreed that a dead author usually hated what he described, hated it as much as we do, even, and wanted his book to shame everybody out of being so nasty ever again ... and when you understand all that, you may just be able to understand how they manage to present James Joyce as a man devoted to the God who was satisfied by the crucifixion ...

Sigh, one more added to my TBR stack.

[Lily]

Wendel wrote: "Sorry, one more quote. I was checking William Empson on Wikipedia and found this one from his "Ulysses: Joyce's Intentions" in Using Biography:

It thus came to be tacitly agreed that a dead author..."

That's as convoluted as Joyce!

[Suzann]

Wendel wrote: "James Joyce as a model for children on the path to godliness!!??..."

Why bother?

[Suzann]

Wendel wrote: "Neither do I see signs of an identity-crisis. On the contrary, Bloom’s reflections on race and religion are relaxed and those on the theme of father and son express melancholy rather than struggle. In all this he is a well-balanced man, and yet there is this obsession. The force of unreason. Bloom is made so perfect only to heighten this contrast (rather than inconsistency)...."

Who am I? Why am I here? are existential questions raised throughout history. Bloom's life is physically based and he doesn't need an intellectual answer and therefore doesn't engage in an intellectual struggle.

I'm not sure I understand the "force of unreason" concept.

[Suzann]

Wendel wrote: "Where there is no sin, conscious or unconscious, there is also no need for catharsis. So I must find an alternative explanation for Circe....."

I like this idea. Could an alternative be no heavier than that Joyce loved theater, costume, comedy and found an excuse to create a theatrical climax in which most of the parade of characters return in exaggerated comedic format?

[Lily]

Susan wrote: "Could an alternative be..."

Have any of us here who have been reading Ulysses also read a biography or any of his letters during the period when he was writing? Sometimes those give clues as to what was going on in the writer's mind. [I have not. :-(]

[Thomas]

Wendel wrote: "OK, no sin, but unconscious guilt. But I also fail to see that in the text, unless we allow ourselves to interpret Bloom's masochism this way. However, while Freud might have done so, I believe Joyce did not. In fact, his rejection of Freud may have everything to do with his own deviant sexual experience."

I'm not sure how else masochism can be interpreted. (Perhaps not guilt, but inadequacy? I don't know about that either. Inadequacy does not call for punishment.) It doesn't seem to be a random pathology. It's there for a reason, I believe.

But I agree that if you remove the pathology, and the guilt, then another explanation for the episode is needed. If Joyce wanted a miniature dramatic piece he could have emulated his hero Ibsen instead, and left out this grotesque costume drama. I do think that this episode is a burlesque of Freudianism -- just one more parody to add to the heap -- but like all the other parodies it is more than just a parody.

[Suzann]

Thomas wrote: "But I agree that if you remove the pathology, and the guilt, then another explanation for the episode is needed. .."

I don't believe the guilt was there to be removed. I don't see anything Freudian either. Dreams don't have to be driven by guilt, I don't believe. For example in the next episode Bloom is talking about Stephen and the prostitutes. He makes a practical comment--you might get the clap. There's nothing shameful or an invocation of morality. I think it reflects Blooms attitude about bodily functions. Speaking of letters written at the time--you can view the 17 dirtiest letters between Joyce and Nora online. It's hard to believe someone engaging in such bawdy expression would write about guilt. Joyce's letters sound anything but repressed. Why would he create a repressed character?

[Nicola]

Patrice wrote: I'm having a hard time understanding how there is nothing wrong with prostitution or exhibitionism. Is it that Joyce didn't think there was anything wrong with it? That's hard to believe, having been raised in the church. He is rebelling, but is the reader not to make any moral judgment?
Is exploitation of women OK? ..."

That's a personal call for different people; I have no intrinsic issues with prostitution but could happily write about a character that does, in fact I'd probably enjoy writing from a totally different perspective to mine. I know Joyce was 'rebelling from the church' as you say or at least I've heard it said but even with that said not all people feel the same way in all areas regardless of what their church is telling them to think about it. The Catholic church with its opposition to things like contraception and, even more divisive, abortion, is probably a good example of showing divisions of opinions even between those who would consider themselves catholic while using contraceptives and the like. Perhaps Joyce just never had an issue with it, rebelling or not.

I haven't read the letters, are they worth a look?

[Suzann]

Patrice wrote: "I'm having a hard time understanding how there is nothing wrong with prostitution or exhibitionism. Is it that Joyce didn't think there was anything wrong with it? That's hard to believe, having ..."

I think you were the one way back who pointed out that Joyce left the church partially because of the way the church made him feel about his sexual feelings, which I think were liberated by his relationship with Nora. He wanted to embrace the dirty, the farts, the blemished, the whole body in opposition to the Church. We might choose to live differently, but I don't find any reason to judge his choices. Isn't the best way to deprive dirty words of their power to repeat them until they're just words? The F-word used to have shock value, but now it's just a word which some people choose to use and others have no need. Isn't the process like Circe where thoughts are exaggerated and made ridiculous before they fade into the dark?

[Thomas]

Susan wrote: "I don't believe the guilt was there to be removed. I don't see anything Freudian either. Dreams don't have to be driven by guilt, I don't believe. For example in the next episode Bloom is talking about Stephen and the prostitutes. He makes a practical comment--you might get the clap. There's nothing shameful or an invocation of morality."

I don't believe that Bloom feels guilty in his daily conscious life, but his dream or fantasy or vision in this episode suggests that he feels something subconsciously for which he wants to be punished, or for which he believes he should be punished. Dreams don't have to be driven by guilt, I agree. And in this case I don't think it's only guilt. Guilt is just one part of it. Bloom also wants to be dominated by women, but I think this is all tied together with his persecution complex and the emotions associated with that.

In any case, I don't think they can be meaningless or random images that have no relation to the psychology of the characters. These eruptions of the subsconscious tell us something about the characters that the characters themselves cannot tell us, which is why I think this episode is here -- it's yet another perspective, a bold and courageous one.

[Suzann]

Patrice wrote: "Joyce left the church behind and so he has to start from scratch to decide what is right and what is wrong and whether right and wrong even matter. Maybe he threw the baby out with the bathwater? ..."

Gose talks about Joyce and religion this way: "Joyce's sense of mystery was a religious sense, his rejection of the church a reaction to its materialism, its intolerance, and its twisting of man's biological and spiritual nature (in celibacy, mariolatry, and the threat of hell-fire). To the humane teachings of the church and to some of its ritual, Joyce remained loyal. ...Joyce told Jacques Mercanton that "Good Friday and Holy Saturday were the two days of the year when he went to church, for the liturgies, which represented by their symbolic rituals the oldest mysteries of humanity"." Rather than reject religion outright, Joyce seems to have found a way to live compatibly with the mystery and drama of religious ritual.

[Thomas]

Patrice wrote: "I guess what I'm trying to figure out is Joyce's attitude toward his hero, Bloom. When he masturbates on the beach, when he goes to prostitutes, is Joyce saying this is a man and therefore he is flawed? Or is he saying, nothing wrong with any of this. I think that's my dilemma. Is Joyce writing about a flawed hero or does he not see his behavior as flawed?"

Joyce isn't making any judgments, as I see it, but Bloom has flaws like anybody else, and Joyce doesn't hide them. Look at Bloom's vision in the beginning of this episode where Gerty appears to him:

Gerty: With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. (She murmurs.) You did that. I hate you.

Bloom: I? When? You're dreaming. I never saw you.

The Bawd: Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Writing the gentleman false letters. Streetwalking and soliciting. Better for your mother take the strap to you at the bedpost, hussy like you.

Gerty: (To Bloom.) When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer. (She paws his sleeve, slobbering.) Dirty married man! I love you for doing that to me.

Following this, Mrs. Breen catches him: "Mr Bloom! You down here in the haunts of sin! I caught you nicely! Scamp!" To which Bloom replies, "Not so loud my name. Whatever do you think me. Don't give me away. Walls have ears." And then he tries to persuade her that he is in Nighttown as secretary of a society to promote the rescue of fallen women.

Like most people, Bloom's image of himself is better than it actually is, but in this episode his guard is lowered and he can't rationalize his actions very well. Bloom is not a bad man, and he isn't the type to brood over a bad conscience... but he has his shortcomings like anyone else. In the dim of the night Bloom acknowledges his flaws; he doesn't seem to have much choice. But Joyce doesn't condemn him for that -- he embraces Bloom's flaws by showing them for what they are.

[Wendel]

Susan wrote @103: "Wendel wrote: "Neither do I see signs of an identity-crisis. On the contrary ..." I'm not sure I understand the "force of unreason concept.".

The things we do without knowing why - maybe as an expression of the subconscious. But in an agnostic way, descriptive, without any suggestion that Freud (or whoever you fancy) knows more about it.

A way to say that I can’t find out what makes Bloom tick. Maybe Joyce wanted to create an absurd character? Sometimes you meet people who seem quite reasonable and pleasant, and then you discover that they believe some very weird things. Who knows why? And does it matter?

Oh, that reminds me, Bloom made me also think of the gullible Pierre Bezukhov, while I recognize the high-flying count Andrej in Stephen. Maybe Patrice is right and Joyce was secretly reading W&P?

[Wendel]

Thomas wrote @106: "If Joyce wanted a miniature dramatic piece he could have emulated his hero Ibsen instead, and left out this grotesque costume drama."

That is precisely what Joyce did in his play Exiles, written in 1914, as an interim before he devoted himself to Ulysses. The play demonstrates that freedom comes at a cost. Very Ibsenesque, plenty of of guilt here, but also traces of candaulism linking its hero Richard Rowan with Bloom.

[Kathy]

Patrice wrote: "I just read Joyce's letters. I can see how they can be read as though he has no repression. But to me they do sound like the reaction of a very repressed mind. If he really thought sex was lovely and healthy and beautiful would he have written that way? "

This reminds me of something John Updike once said about the Rabbit books--one might mistake their author for a worldly person with deviant experiences, but in actuality, he was a pretty straight-laced WASP from Pennsylvania who made up most of this stuff in part because he found his own life to be somewhat dull. Maybe he was being disingenuous when he said that, but it seemed quite sincere. I personally would lean more toward Patrice's interpretation of Joyce's motives, rather than imagining that he's writing from a position of openness and confidence, but on the other hand, I am very wary of attaching judgments to the author based on his or her characters.

[Genni]

Ok. I was rolling along daydreaming my way through the daydream when I came to brimstone, horns, a pit, arms heroes springing up, and other apocalypse-like references. I've been skimming through the posts so I've seen some of the discussion of Bloom as a Christ-like figure, but what was up with the page out of Revelation? It didn't seem to fit. I didn't get it. Help! :-)

[Suzann]

Patrice wrote: "I just read Joyce's letters. I can see how they can be read as though he has no repression. But to me they do sound like the reaction of a very repressed mind. If he really thought sex was lovely and healthy and beautiful would he have written that way? ..."

I see the letters as a step toward emotional maturity. First is acting out against the restrictions of authority, religious or societal, testing who you are not who you've been told or expected to be. Perhaps the act of writing was part of the process for Joyce, although coming toward the end of the book, emotional maturity is hard to identify except in Bloom. The narrative styles and obsession with word-arranging seem to obscure any expression of emotion. If Joyce has achieved emotional equanimity its expression remains highly controlled in the narrative. After decades of reading emotive writers (the female voice), Joyce, the master of the largest written vocabulary in the English language, can't really touch me emotionally with his words. Funny, amazing, entangling, scintillating, puzzling, engaging, challenging, but they don't make me feel.

[Chris]

WOW! What a chapter. As Joyce moved from hallucinations that drug up the past issues with family & his current sexual proclivities, now delved into sexual humiliations with Bella/Bello. So although I smiled at Wendel's identification of this section as "Fifty Shades of Bloom", I'm not sure he derived pleasure from these surreal fantasies. I think more guilt at his "unmanning". And then whiplash, he regains himself and we are thrown back to the "father-figure" characterization as he intervenes on Stephen's behalf a couple of times. I felt sadness for Bloom when the final apparition of the young boy appeared and his simple pleading of "Rudy". Was this whole chapter a more phantasmagoric dream sequence a la "A Christmas Carol"??

[Thomas]

http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php...

[Hilary]

I've read many of these comments, but not all, so please excuse any possible repetition. Thanks for all of your comments. They do help to shed a light on things.

Thanks for reminding me, Sue, of the tree uttering 'deciduously'. That tickled me.

The ash plant is an interesting one. Perhaps, Thomas, there is a certain symbolism in Stephen's casting it aside at the brothel. A bit like Bloom's potato it had almost become a talisman, a security blanket, a crutch, a weapon of mass destruction in his hitting the chandelier (no not seriously!). This may be a type of his stepping into his new life and where better than in the brothel with all its accompanying vileness; at least in the dreamlike sequence.

The Christ echoes seem to be there in Bloom's dying and resurrection, as has already been said. Also Wendel and Patrice have referred to the idea that Bloom is: well what or who is he? We may never know. I'm with Patrice in her agreement with you, Wendel, about the fact that Bloom is neither Irish nor not Irish, neither male nor female, Jew nor Goy. This brings to mind the Apostle Paul's writing that in Christ there is neither male nor female, Jew nor Greek/Gentile.

Bloom's relationship with formal religion is certainly tenuous. I agree that he must be harbouring guilt for his actions, but wants to flee from these feelings. Joyce, as has been said, was drawn to certain liturgical services. Running off with Nora, though, could not have allayed his feelings of guilt associated with the Catholic Church since he didn't marry her until much later and only then, it has been suggested, in order potentially to help his daughter Lucia, perhaps in his mind to help her with her insecurities..

The black mass type episode I found chilling. I don't remember any sense of condemnation in Bloom's mind; even were it only part of a fantasy. His dreams or subconscious seem to cry out for help. There are so many horrible images that suggest a very tormented mind.

It is true that it is hard to pin down what Bloom believes. On the one hand, he has certain characteristics attributed to him by Joyce that suggest a Christ-like figure and on the other hand he seems unperturbed by the 'black mass'. It's like nailing jelly (jello) to a wall.

[Theresa]

Hilary wrote: "I've read many of these comments, but not all, so please excuse any possible repetition. Thanks for all of your comments. They do help to shed a light on things.

Thanks for reminding me, Sue, of..."

I can't figure out why he considers himself Jewish by his father's heritage. I must have missed something (that is an understatement for this book) but I thought Jewish heritage was passed down through the mother? Is she Jewish too?

[Theresa]

I'm still convinced Bloom is just tired and can't concentrate (because as I said in the earlier thread, it is late) and so his mind wanders.

Zippy questioned the drunkeness in the previous thread and how this is affecting what is happening. Just because Bloom doesn't drink much doesn't mean it doesn't have an affect on him. I don't think it is self restraint so much as just not getting a good high from alcohol. Some folks (myself included) respond badly to alcohol and other substances. It is worse when I am mentally exhausted, sleep deprived, or anxious. Instead of getting a happy relaxed high (or even falling asleep if that is an option) my mind just goes sideways with weird worries.

[Theresa]

A jewish man once told me that he didn't drink much because alcohol didn't agree with him. He said he believed it was harder for jewish people to become addicted to alcohol. I wasn't sure what he meant at the time, I know people in my family have been drinkers (some heavy) but never seem to have had a problem putting it aside and forgetting about it for months (or years or forever where cigarettes and other substances are concerned). I've also talked to some aboriginal people who claim that they are more physically susceptible to becoming addicted to alcohol. I hope that doesn't reinforce any stereotypes. Alcoholism is a disease after all, being an abstainer or moderate drinker isn't necessarily proof of self restraint.