Calypso

Leopold Bloom seems to be an interesting mixture between brutish and docile; he is also a dreamer, but those dreams are easily taken by darkness. This creates for quite a dynamic character.
He is incredibly animalistic. His consciousness is intertwined with that of the cats, (“scratch my head. Purr.”) He is described as incredibly carnivorous; Leo is in his name. He takes extreme pleasure in the corporeal, and he exudes carnal desire for food and sex. This is demonstrated when he is admiring the young servant of his neighbor. First, he is imagining a farmhouse, and the cattle that occupy the land, but even the description of the cattle have a sexual undertone. He goes from describing the breeders covered in dung slapping the rear of a young white heifer, to fantasizing about the servant whacking the rug, her skirt swinging whack by whack, all in the same breath. He tires to catch up to her to admire her from behind, then imagines her being taken by a policemen: a girl like that needs them sizable. There are more sexual puns in this chapter. The cat is called pussens; Molly, when calling the cat says, “come, come, pussy, come,” Molly also mentions liking the last name of an author, that sounds like cocks.
But to only talk about the brutish side of Bloom is to have an extremely limited view of him. He shows incredible tenderness and patience towards Molly. He is careful not to disturb her on his way out; He brings her the tea as he is ordered to. He teaches her in the most gentile way, as to avoid condescendence. He says nothing negative about the letter she hides from him, which is from another man. He loves her dearly, and although there seems to be an underlying jealously, it is not expressed by Bloom himself, but more subtly, but Ponchelli’s dance for example, A lot seems to be swarming under Bloom’s surface.
His mind changes so easily from a sweet mixture of memory and fantasy to nightmarish thoughts of a hellish barren land destroyed by sin becoming the ‘grey sunken cunt of the world.’ These thoughts never linger, however. He avoids this particular thought by focusing on the warm body of his wife.
There is another episode that precedes this one that turns dark, literally, very quickly. In fact, the sudden change from day to night recurs throughout the chapter. He seems to be mourning how quickly he and his wife have aged, and how quickly death sets in. Like the drowned man in the previous episodes, the funeral is rarely directly addressed, but lingers in the backdrop. He fantasizes about avoiding the progression of time by jumping to different places around the world, avoiding the progression of day, but this is impossible. Suddenly, his fantasy of the bustling eastern town blackens to cries on the street, a mother calling her children home, the color of the night. Again, he escapes with visions of Molly, whose garters resemble the color of the night sky.
Age cannot be avoided by anyone. Molly is described as slightly stale. She eats day old bread to make her feel younger, has many lines under her eyes, the incense turns to foul flower water by the next day. Blooms little girl is quickly budding, becoming a sexual being. This breaks his heart, and he is distracted by the call of nature, that brings Leopold back to a place that he seems to enjoy a bit more then his mind.