This concise, mathematical, question/ answer approach of narration seems fitting to expand Joyce’s commentary on language, taking the opposite path to degradation of language in oxen of the sun (ending in slang gibberish). This sort of technical language was created and seems to be used for the sake of a succinct, clear expression but Joyce’s use of it elucidates the absurdity. It seems the more concise the word the less understandable the definition (and also, less people are familiar with these definitions.) In an attempt to bring the signified and the signifier closer, this sort of language pushes them farther apart.
And like the feigned attempt of the language to bring together the signified / signifier (which could also be looked at as metaphoric for Stephen and Bloom’s representation of the ideal / corporeal) Stephen and Bloom’s attempt at connection seems more superimposed then organic. Here we really see the two drastically different minds: one, of Stephen the artist, and the other, of Bloom the “scientist.” They even hear the sound of the bells differently (is Joyce inferring here that pre-reflectivity does not exist (if our sound is even shaped by memory/ ego?)
But all of that aside, given Joyce’s view of the absurdity of language, it seems that he would want Stephen and Bloom to connect in a space the transcends language . And they do. “Was this affirmation apprehended by Bloom? / Not verbally. Substantially” (697). This corresponds with their exchanged look in the previous chapter.
Which brings me to the repeated use of opposites, or antinomies in this chapter. The neverchanging / everychanging water, the scientific / artistic, the real / imaginary, the move from the known to the unknown. In Bloom, Stephen hears a profound accumulation of the past. In Stephen, Boom sees predestination of a future. In order for completion, the opposite must be with in its own opposite. This is brought to light with the mention of St. Johns of Damascus. According to the Bloomsday book, St. John’s Trinitarian theology, “develops the conception of circumincession in order to express the InnerTrinitarian relations. And circumincession means the reciprocal existence of the persons of the Trinity in one another.” So the relationship is reciprocal.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
oxen (d)evolution ideal real
‘Deshil Holles Eamus’ seems to be mimicked in the writing style of the long paragraph that follows. The language pushes me forward but the logic feels circular. I feel the perhaps, downward, spiral of the perpetuation of the human species. According to Christians, we were made in God’s image, starting out perfect, but then after the fall, where Eve took the apple of sin and thus was cursed with pain during childbirth, we evolve or devolve; we are moving away from God. As everyone knows, Darwin, and modern science, sees it the other way. This episode doesn’t seem to take a standpoint. The two ideas just battle themselves out.
This seems to be somewhat evoked in the ‘somewhat indecipherable’ paragraph on the first page (383).
“matters most profitable…to be studied…in doctrine erudite…high mind’s ornament…other circumstances being equal by no exterior splendor…prosperity of a nation..the original..might not be in the future not wit h similar excellence…procreating function…”
From these little clips, I get evolution, devolution, and the ideal / real dichotomy, which is represented in birth, the virgin birth, and also, the birth of Mrs. Purefoy, which harkens back to the evolution. Mary was impregnated by God, as a virgin. It seems the evolutionary cycle is starting over. People evolved away from God; they need a redeemer, born out of purity and not of the flesh, to bring them closer to God, or the ideal. Mrs. Purefoy has obviously copulated with either her husband or another man in order to conceive and birth this child; a child born of the flesh. Also, this is interesting:
“In a woman’s womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is post-creation. That all flesh shall come to thee.”
This harkens to John 1: 1-5: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” So, before, essence and object were attached, inseparable. The signified and the signifier were one. Joyce’s use of ridiculous language seems to emphasize the (d)evolution (movement away from God). The word and that which the word tries to encapsulate, have grown very far apart. So, in a way, the ideal and the body or real or corporeal, were once joined. This is in the beginning, in Eden. Then Eve, that evil woman, broke this unity apart. The earth now needs a messiah to redeem us from this world that exists “in the flesh” and bring us closer to the ideal: God. So he sends his son to unite the two. But, in the above passage from Ulysses (not the biblical passage), I get the feeling that the ideal takes precedence over the physical (becomes the word that shall not pass away).
Similarly, when Stephen is mimicking the last supper, he will drink the wine but not partake of the body of Christ (the bread). But, perhaps this shows just Stephen’s link with the ideal.
Also, the storm that is brewing through out the entire chapter, at certain times, seems to be reminiscent of the great flood, where God spared only Noah and the creatures two by two, one male, one female. This washing of the evils of the word obviously goes with the messiah, and seems fitting when placed in the context of these ribald men completely apathetic to Mrs. Purefoy’s pain; well, all except Bloom. His heroic quality (like Noah and Christ who save us from the evils of the word) of empathy is truly put to use in Oxen of the sun.
Bloom, however, is a hypocrite. He spread his seed but onto the sand (which seems linked to the biblical passage Mathew 7: 15-29
“Every one therefore that heareth these my words, and doth them, shall be likened to a wise man that built his house upon a rock, And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house, and it fell not, for it was founded on a rock.
And every one that heareth these my words, and doth them not, shall be like a foolish man that built his house upon the sand, And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house, and it fell, and great was the fall thereof.”)
Bloom has wasted the life force. “”Has he not nearer home a see field that lies fallow for the want of a ploughshare?” (409). References to Rudy’s death are abundant. What makes a perfectly healthy child just die after a few days? Bloom, aware of his lack of a son, gazes at Stephen, the obvious surrogate.
And the episode ends with a mockery of the Almighty God.
This seems to be somewhat evoked in the ‘somewhat indecipherable’ paragraph on the first page (383).
“matters most profitable…to be studied…in doctrine erudite…high mind’s ornament…other circumstances being equal by no exterior splendor…prosperity of a nation..the original..might not be in the future not wit h similar excellence…procreating function…”
From these little clips, I get evolution, devolution, and the ideal / real dichotomy, which is represented in birth, the virgin birth, and also, the birth of Mrs. Purefoy, which harkens back to the evolution. Mary was impregnated by God, as a virgin. It seems the evolutionary cycle is starting over. People evolved away from God; they need a redeemer, born out of purity and not of the flesh, to bring them closer to God, or the ideal. Mrs. Purefoy has obviously copulated with either her husband or another man in order to conceive and birth this child; a child born of the flesh. Also, this is interesting:
“In a woman’s womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is post-creation. That all flesh shall come to thee.”
This harkens to John 1: 1-5: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” So, before, essence and object were attached, inseparable. The signified and the signifier were one. Joyce’s use of ridiculous language seems to emphasize the (d)evolution (movement away from God). The word and that which the word tries to encapsulate, have grown very far apart. So, in a way, the ideal and the body or real or corporeal, were once joined. This is in the beginning, in Eden. Then Eve, that evil woman, broke this unity apart. The earth now needs a messiah to redeem us from this world that exists “in the flesh” and bring us closer to the ideal: God. So he sends his son to unite the two. But, in the above passage from Ulysses (not the biblical passage), I get the feeling that the ideal takes precedence over the physical (becomes the word that shall not pass away).
Similarly, when Stephen is mimicking the last supper, he will drink the wine but not partake of the body of Christ (the bread). But, perhaps this shows just Stephen’s link with the ideal.
Also, the storm that is brewing through out the entire chapter, at certain times, seems to be reminiscent of the great flood, where God spared only Noah and the creatures two by two, one male, one female. This washing of the evils of the word obviously goes with the messiah, and seems fitting when placed in the context of these ribald men completely apathetic to Mrs. Purefoy’s pain; well, all except Bloom. His heroic quality (like Noah and Christ who save us from the evils of the word) of empathy is truly put to use in Oxen of the sun.
Bloom, however, is a hypocrite. He spread his seed but onto the sand (which seems linked to the biblical passage Mathew 7: 15-29
“Every one therefore that heareth these my words, and doth them, shall be likened to a wise man that built his house upon a rock, And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house, and it fell not, for it was founded on a rock.
And every one that heareth these my words, and doth them not, shall be like a foolish man that built his house upon the sand, And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house, and it fell, and great was the fall thereof.”)
Bloom has wasted the life force. “”Has he not nearer home a see field that lies fallow for the want of a ploughshare?” (409). References to Rudy’s death are abundant. What makes a perfectly healthy child just die after a few days? Bloom, aware of his lack of a son, gazes at Stephen, the obvious surrogate.
And the episode ends with a mockery of the Almighty God.
Nausicaa
Gerty, sports a straw hat, and a dress of blue and white; indeed, as Kevin mentioned, she is likened to the virgin Mary, but the straw hat also links her to Blazes Boylan, the object of Blooms infidelity, if one could call it that.
After reading the Cyclops, I got the feeling that Bloom’s impotence might cease up a bit, (he is resurrected in a way) and his impotence is somewhat lifted here. After all, he does reach climax, and feels oh so much better. The torture of sexual desire loosens its grip upon Bloom and we see his mind return to its normal route of thought, wondering about love, fate, Molly, and a lot about sight and smell, which reminded me of Stephen in Proteus, contemplating sound versus sight.
It is obvious that Bloom’s mind is still with Molly. He contemplates her lingering scent and remembers how she sprays her perfume on their pillows: “I leave this to you to think of me when I’m far away on the pillow (374). Scent is established as intoxicating in the Lotus-eaters and elsewhere, but here it seems as if Molly’s powerful “ether” like scent has waned. Her scent is “sweet and chap: soon sour.” But soon after Bloom says that he likens Molly, or women’s scent to a spider spinning gossamer that clings to everything (374).
Although Bloom’s impotence is superficially overcome, he casts his seed into sand: “nothing grows in it. All fades” (381). Besides, we never really doubted Bloom’s ability to achieve an erection. His real impotence comes out of not being able to make love to his wife. Still, “he gets the plumb and I get the plum stones” (377).
I am also interested in this strange synchronicity of minds that Robin has mentioned in class. Bloom’s watch stops at the time that Molly and Boylan have sex. However, I am unsure of what further significance this might have. In the end, Bloom, the priest, and Gerty are all linked with the Cuckoo, which is reminiscent of Bloom being the cuckold, in Gerty’s eyes.
After reading the Cyclops, I got the feeling that Bloom’s impotence might cease up a bit, (he is resurrected in a way) and his impotence is somewhat lifted here. After all, he does reach climax, and feels oh so much better. The torture of sexual desire loosens its grip upon Bloom and we see his mind return to its normal route of thought, wondering about love, fate, Molly, and a lot about sight and smell, which reminded me of Stephen in Proteus, contemplating sound versus sight.
It is obvious that Bloom’s mind is still with Molly. He contemplates her lingering scent and remembers how she sprays her perfume on their pillows: “I leave this to you to think of me when I’m far away on the pillow (374). Scent is established as intoxicating in the Lotus-eaters and elsewhere, but here it seems as if Molly’s powerful “ether” like scent has waned. Her scent is “sweet and chap: soon sour.” But soon after Bloom says that he likens Molly, or women’s scent to a spider spinning gossamer that clings to everything (374).
Although Bloom’s impotence is superficially overcome, he casts his seed into sand: “nothing grows in it. All fades” (381). Besides, we never really doubted Bloom’s ability to achieve an erection. His real impotence comes out of not being able to make love to his wife. Still, “he gets the plumb and I get the plum stones” (377).
I am also interested in this strange synchronicity of minds that Robin has mentioned in class. Bloom’s watch stops at the time that Molly and Boylan have sex. However, I am unsure of what further significance this might have. In the end, Bloom, the priest, and Gerty are all linked with the Cuckoo, which is reminiscent of Bloom being the cuckold, in Gerty’s eyes.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Cyclops. Crucifixion.
In the Cyclops, I think there is a danger for the reader to fall in to looking at this episode with ‘one eye’. Here, we see Joyce make a mockery out of Irish nationalists, the hero, religion, journalism, etc, creating what the Bloomsday book calls, an “inflated caricature,” of all the aforementioned. The unnamed one-eyed narrator is put in juxtaposition to Bloom’s cod’s eye, who can see things both ways: (But don’t you see, on the other hand. (306). Therefore, beneath Joyce’s outward mockery, the wasteland / fisher king theme expands dramatically.
Bloom stands outside the tavern where the citizen, our narrator, and a few other men drink. Bob Doran, the drunk, swears that he has just seen Dignam, whom we all know is dead. The tone shifts from somewhat playful to macabre, when Alf says, “Dead! He is no more dead then you are” (31), which evokes the feeling that these men are actually somewhere between heaven and hell, such as purgatory. This is brought home in the hilarious mockery of different religion’s take on the afterlife, however, as I said before, despite the overwhelming humor of the episode, it cannot be simplified to humor alone. It is a parody, yet evocation of the afterlife.
Bloom lurks on the other side of the veil of the underworld (metaphorically speaking). “There he is again, says the citizen, staring out” (302). Finally, “Bloom slopes in with his cod’s eye (God’s eye) on the dog…” (There is an obvious connection with Stephen’s dogsbody, the Proteus episode where Stephen sees one live dog fondling the dead one, etc..) Our hero seems to finally have stepped into the underworld.
Themes of surplus (parody of Irish revival of Irish poetry etc in beginning) / barren land (313,314) / usurpation, (thievery, Bloom’s Freudian slip, England of Ireland) and martyrdom recur in the Cyclops. Soon after Bloom enters, we are told of a hanging. Then, Christ’s crucifixion is alluded to, as well as the necessity of Christ to then, descend into hell before he can ascend to heaven: “Here, says he, take them to hell out of my sight.”
The conversation takes a turn to express the idea that when a man is hanged, he achieves an erection, which further correlates the metaphoric necessity for Bloom to be crucified in order to rid himself of impotence.
We also see Bloom, for what I assume is the first time, directly speaking of Blazes Boylan. Also, in the end, when the drunken man cries out, “Three cheers for Israel” Bloom actually retorts: “Mendelssohn was a Jew and Karl Marx and Mercadante and Spinoza. And the Savior was a Jew and his father was a Jew. Your God” (342).
Finally, the moment that I have been waiting for has happened: Bloom is crucified. I know this isn’t literally, but it undoubtedly happens. We see the religious procession, where a silver casket is being carried though the streets. Then, in Hungarian, we hear shouts of “See you again my dear friend. See you again!” which alludes to Bloom being the one in the coffin, and also the resurrection. “And there came a voice out of heaven, calling: Elijah! Elijah! And he answered with a main cry: Abba Adonai! And they beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom Elijah…” (345). (Earlier in the chapter Bloom is likened to the messiah numerous times).
Does this mean that Bloom’s impotence is lifted? How will this impact the wasteland? Does this bring God back into it? Will the body be recovered from the waters? Will Mrs. Purefoy finally birth that baby? Please join us next time on Days of Our Lives.
P.S If anyone has a better understanding of the wasteland / fisher king please speak up and help me try to work this out.
Bloom stands outside the tavern where the citizen, our narrator, and a few other men drink. Bob Doran, the drunk, swears that he has just seen Dignam, whom we all know is dead. The tone shifts from somewhat playful to macabre, when Alf says, “Dead! He is no more dead then you are” (31), which evokes the feeling that these men are actually somewhere between heaven and hell, such as purgatory. This is brought home in the hilarious mockery of different religion’s take on the afterlife, however, as I said before, despite the overwhelming humor of the episode, it cannot be simplified to humor alone. It is a parody, yet evocation of the afterlife.
Bloom lurks on the other side of the veil of the underworld (metaphorically speaking). “There he is again, says the citizen, staring out” (302). Finally, “Bloom slopes in with his cod’s eye (God’s eye) on the dog…” (There is an obvious connection with Stephen’s dogsbody, the Proteus episode where Stephen sees one live dog fondling the dead one, etc..) Our hero seems to finally have stepped into the underworld.
Themes of surplus (parody of Irish revival of Irish poetry etc in beginning) / barren land (313,314) / usurpation, (thievery, Bloom’s Freudian slip, England of Ireland) and martyrdom recur in the Cyclops. Soon after Bloom enters, we are told of a hanging. Then, Christ’s crucifixion is alluded to, as well as the necessity of Christ to then, descend into hell before he can ascend to heaven: “Here, says he, take them to hell out of my sight.”
The conversation takes a turn to express the idea that when a man is hanged, he achieves an erection, which further correlates the metaphoric necessity for Bloom to be crucified in order to rid himself of impotence.
We also see Bloom, for what I assume is the first time, directly speaking of Blazes Boylan. Also, in the end, when the drunken man cries out, “Three cheers for Israel” Bloom actually retorts: “Mendelssohn was a Jew and Karl Marx and Mercadante and Spinoza. And the Savior was a Jew and his father was a Jew. Your God” (342).
Finally, the moment that I have been waiting for has happened: Bloom is crucified. I know this isn’t literally, but it undoubtedly happens. We see the religious procession, where a silver casket is being carried though the streets. Then, in Hungarian, we hear shouts of “See you again my dear friend. See you again!” which alludes to Bloom being the one in the coffin, and also the resurrection. “And there came a voice out of heaven, calling: Elijah! Elijah! And he answered with a main cry: Abba Adonai! And they beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom Elijah…” (345). (Earlier in the chapter Bloom is likened to the messiah numerous times).
Does this mean that Bloom’s impotence is lifted? How will this impact the wasteland? Does this bring God back into it? Will the body be recovered from the waters? Will Mrs. Purefoy finally birth that baby? Please join us next time on Days of Our Lives.
P.S If anyone has a better understanding of the wasteland / fisher king please speak up and help me try to work this out.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Wondering Rocks
What does one take from synchronistic events? In life, I take little; in literature, I assume that it is a devise used by the author in order to create parallels between certain characters or events, which points to the reader to read-into these parallels, and take significance from this process. However, Joyce is more playful then the average author, and to use the word synchronicity to describe this episode might be an overstatement. We see what is happening in relation to most of the characters of the book, around the same time of day.
The throwaway recurs. Elijah is mentioned. Both Bloom and Stephen reject the idea of a messiah, nothing new. We see Stephen and Bloom’s roles reversed. Haines and Buck agree that Stephen is not an artist, and that his mind is imbalanced. He will never produce a work of literature. Bloom, however, is described as having “a touch of the artist about (him).” Bloom is also mentioned for putting down a mentionable sum for Dignam family, and is actually shown respect. In addition, a story is retold, about a time Molly, Bloom, Lenehan, and another man went to a play, and on the way back, Molly was stealthily being felt up by Lenehan, while Bloom was focused on the starts, which evokes the idea that Bloom is more forces on the ideal, which is normally Stephen’s realm.
The Dedalus family is pitiful in this episode, and one of the most touching scenes happens between Stephen and his poor, hungry little sister. “She is drowning. Agenbite. Save her. Agenbite. All against us. She will drown me with her, eyes and hair. Lank coils of seaweed hair around me, my heart, my soul. Salt green death. / We. / Agenbite of inwit. Inwit’s agenbite. / Misery! Misery!” Stephen’s impotence to save his family is comparable to Bloom’s impotence. He is unable or unwilling to provide for his family; his father does a poor job of it, callously reprimanding Dilly for slouching, when she barely has the strength to stand up straight; he drinks their money away. “Our father who not in heaven,” could relate to the throwaway.
Blazes Bolyan is mentioned among ripe fruits, with a red carnation in his mouth. As he prepares a basket for Molly, Bloom searches for a saucy book for her, and decides upon one, which tells a tale of adultery. We see, again, that Bloom will do anything to please Molly.
This episode seems a little more distant to me, and little less meaningful then the others, perhaps because it tends to be focused around the clergymen, and the cavalcade of the officials. This one event brings most of the townspeople to one central focus, and gives us a glimpse of all of the characters, from maybe, a more objective view.
The throwaway recurs. Elijah is mentioned. Both Bloom and Stephen reject the idea of a messiah, nothing new. We see Stephen and Bloom’s roles reversed. Haines and Buck agree that Stephen is not an artist, and that his mind is imbalanced. He will never produce a work of literature. Bloom, however, is described as having “a touch of the artist about (him).” Bloom is also mentioned for putting down a mentionable sum for Dignam family, and is actually shown respect. In addition, a story is retold, about a time Molly, Bloom, Lenehan, and another man went to a play, and on the way back, Molly was stealthily being felt up by Lenehan, while Bloom was focused on the starts, which evokes the idea that Bloom is more forces on the ideal, which is normally Stephen’s realm.
The Dedalus family is pitiful in this episode, and one of the most touching scenes happens between Stephen and his poor, hungry little sister. “She is drowning. Agenbite. Save her. Agenbite. All against us. She will drown me with her, eyes and hair. Lank coils of seaweed hair around me, my heart, my soul. Salt green death. / We. / Agenbite of inwit. Inwit’s agenbite. / Misery! Misery!” Stephen’s impotence to save his family is comparable to Bloom’s impotence. He is unable or unwilling to provide for his family; his father does a poor job of it, callously reprimanding Dilly for slouching, when she barely has the strength to stand up straight; he drinks their money away. “Our father who not in heaven,” could relate to the throwaway.
Blazes Bolyan is mentioned among ripe fruits, with a red carnation in his mouth. As he prepares a basket for Molly, Bloom searches for a saucy book for her, and decides upon one, which tells a tale of adultery. We see, again, that Bloom will do anything to please Molly.
This episode seems a little more distant to me, and little less meaningful then the others, perhaps because it tends to be focused around the clergymen, and the cavalcade of the officials. This one event brings most of the townspeople to one central focus, and gives us a glimpse of all of the characters, from maybe, a more objective view.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Scylla and Charybdis
This is a difficult episode to talk about; it is not known what of Stephen’s words are meaningful, and what is mere sophistry, like the pomp let out of the windbag in a previous chapter.
Nonetheless, it seems that the thematic dichotomy of the ideal and form seem at play, especially during the discourses that reference Plato and Aristotle. This might tie in with the theme of consubstantiality, which seems to be the most important of the chapter, but already, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Through the narration, we become aware of many of the character’s physicality, the fact that they have a body; this lays in contrast to architecture of thought that this episode inhabits. “A tall figure in bearded homespun rose from shadow and unveiled its cooperative watch” (191). Here it seems as if the shadow represents the essence, or being, of the person being described, and that his body is what clothes the shadow. Also, someone else is described as “sitting in his form” (191) and the librarian was found “blushing his mask” (193). This might presuppose what I believe to be the platonic idea that essence comes before form. Stephen seems to reject this. Instead of dissecting art like Russell, who believes art is the guise humans use to convey ‘formless spiritual essences (185),’ Stephen insists on theorizing Shakespeare’s work through biography, a more tangible reality; still, this seems strange, since Stephen, in a previous chapter with Deasy, surmises that the past is mutable; however, Stephen is indecisive on his view points, and seems to hold intellectual debates within himself, never really believing anything. This is apparent in this episode. He goes off on a long diatribe about Shakespeare, using polemical, sophistic, arguments against men he should be sucking up to, and in the end we find that Stephen doesn’t even believe in his own argument. It would be quite a task to find, at this point, anything that Stephen empirically believes.
There is also a tension between the art or the life of the commoner, and that of the intellectuals that speaks in this chapter. The common man/ woman seems to be able to Live life; to put things into action, where the intellectual sits around theorizing about it with out action. (Maybe the physical impotence of both Bloom and Stephen is noteworthy.) Russell notes, “People do not know how dangerous loves songs can be. The movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant’s heart on the hillside (186).” Also, this seems to bring Russell’s viewpoint out even more, thought before form. Later, Russell says, “As for the living, our servants can do that for us (189).” Although Stephen opposes Russell’s beliefs on the argument of the chicken and the egg, Stephen, he is within this group of intellectuals, and as stated in proteus, he seems to be at odds with the fact that he has a body. Therefore, I think the slave comment is applicable to Stephen in some ways.
I find Stephen’s opposition to Plato well stated on page 193: “Coffined thoughts around me, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words.” Thought is language, language is form, form before content. From is essence. But, the words are coffined. This express the fact that we are in a wasteland, and God is dead, therefore meaning is dead. I’m not saying that Stephen does not believe in God. I think he’s undecided, and at this moment, is leaning towards a dead god.
Which brings me to the talk of consubstantiality and incest. Lets start on page 194:
So through the ghost of the unquiet father the image of the unloving son looks forth. In the intense instant of imagination, when the mind, Shelley says, is a fading coal, that which I was is that which I am and that which in possibility I may come to be. So in the future, the sister of the past, I may see myself as I sit here now but by reflection from that which then I shall be.”
Here, Joyce skillfully blends two thematic concerns of the book, consubstantiality and the dichotomy of the ideal/ corporeal. Really, they seem to be the same theme. The mind, a fading coal, which “with some invisible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness; this power arises from within, like the color of a flower which fades and changes as it is developed, and the conscious portions of our natures are unprophetic either of its approach or its departure”(A defense of Poetry, Shelly). This harkens back to in ineluctable modality of the audio- visual, which can also be explained, as on page 194, “weave and unweave our bodies.” So, we are stuck in time, caught up in the modality, which is inescapable, and physical reality leaves impressions upon our minds, which hold on to them and then casually, unconsciously or consciously, let go. Stephen’s quip with Plato seems futile, more of a chicken and the egg question, when really; maybe we are swimming in ideas and forms. They play with each other. This is what poetry is made of.
And really, God is an idea who came into form through his son Jesus Christ, representing the corporeal, and the Holy Spirit is the medium in which the ideal and corporeal communicate. Still, this dialectic is all apart of the same whole. “Formless spiritual. Father, word and holy breath. Allfather, the heavenly man. Hiesos Kristos, magician of the beautiful, the Logos who suffers in us at every moment (185).” Therefore, Shakespeare’s son is Shakespeare, “the son of his soul, the prince, young Hamlet and to the son of his body, Hamnet…”(188).
Additionally, this talk of the father son relationship seems to hearken back to Bloom as a father figure for Stephen, as we have mentioned before in class. Stephen is the world of the ideal. Perhaps Bloom in the corporeal. “Where there is a reconciliation, there must have been first a sundering” (193). These characters are tied in an interesting, significant way, which I would bet will be brought out even more as the story continues.
Nonetheless, it seems that the thematic dichotomy of the ideal and form seem at play, especially during the discourses that reference Plato and Aristotle. This might tie in with the theme of consubstantiality, which seems to be the most important of the chapter, but already, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Through the narration, we become aware of many of the character’s physicality, the fact that they have a body; this lays in contrast to architecture of thought that this episode inhabits. “A tall figure in bearded homespun rose from shadow and unveiled its cooperative watch” (191). Here it seems as if the shadow represents the essence, or being, of the person being described, and that his body is what clothes the shadow. Also, someone else is described as “sitting in his form” (191) and the librarian was found “blushing his mask” (193). This might presuppose what I believe to be the platonic idea that essence comes before form. Stephen seems to reject this. Instead of dissecting art like Russell, who believes art is the guise humans use to convey ‘formless spiritual essences (185),’ Stephen insists on theorizing Shakespeare’s work through biography, a more tangible reality; still, this seems strange, since Stephen, in a previous chapter with Deasy, surmises that the past is mutable; however, Stephen is indecisive on his view points, and seems to hold intellectual debates within himself, never really believing anything. This is apparent in this episode. He goes off on a long diatribe about Shakespeare, using polemical, sophistic, arguments against men he should be sucking up to, and in the end we find that Stephen doesn’t even believe in his own argument. It would be quite a task to find, at this point, anything that Stephen empirically believes.
There is also a tension between the art or the life of the commoner, and that of the intellectuals that speaks in this chapter. The common man/ woman seems to be able to Live life; to put things into action, where the intellectual sits around theorizing about it with out action. (Maybe the physical impotence of both Bloom and Stephen is noteworthy.) Russell notes, “People do not know how dangerous loves songs can be. The movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant’s heart on the hillside (186).” Also, this seems to bring Russell’s viewpoint out even more, thought before form. Later, Russell says, “As for the living, our servants can do that for us (189).” Although Stephen opposes Russell’s beliefs on the argument of the chicken and the egg, Stephen, he is within this group of intellectuals, and as stated in proteus, he seems to be at odds with the fact that he has a body. Therefore, I think the slave comment is applicable to Stephen in some ways.
I find Stephen’s opposition to Plato well stated on page 193: “Coffined thoughts around me, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words.” Thought is language, language is form, form before content. From is essence. But, the words are coffined. This express the fact that we are in a wasteland, and God is dead, therefore meaning is dead. I’m not saying that Stephen does not believe in God. I think he’s undecided, and at this moment, is leaning towards a dead god.
Which brings me to the talk of consubstantiality and incest. Lets start on page 194:
So through the ghost of the unquiet father the image of the unloving son looks forth. In the intense instant of imagination, when the mind, Shelley says, is a fading coal, that which I was is that which I am and that which in possibility I may come to be. So in the future, the sister of the past, I may see myself as I sit here now but by reflection from that which then I shall be.”
Here, Joyce skillfully blends two thematic concerns of the book, consubstantiality and the dichotomy of the ideal/ corporeal. Really, they seem to be the same theme. The mind, a fading coal, which “with some invisible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness; this power arises from within, like the color of a flower which fades and changes as it is developed, and the conscious portions of our natures are unprophetic either of its approach or its departure”(A defense of Poetry, Shelly). This harkens back to in ineluctable modality of the audio- visual, which can also be explained, as on page 194, “weave and unweave our bodies.” So, we are stuck in time, caught up in the modality, which is inescapable, and physical reality leaves impressions upon our minds, which hold on to them and then casually, unconsciously or consciously, let go. Stephen’s quip with Plato seems futile, more of a chicken and the egg question, when really; maybe we are swimming in ideas and forms. They play with each other. This is what poetry is made of.
And really, God is an idea who came into form through his son Jesus Christ, representing the corporeal, and the Holy Spirit is the medium in which the ideal and corporeal communicate. Still, this dialectic is all apart of the same whole. “Formless spiritual. Father, word and holy breath. Allfather, the heavenly man. Hiesos Kristos, magician of the beautiful, the Logos who suffers in us at every moment (185).” Therefore, Shakespeare’s son is Shakespeare, “the son of his soul, the prince, young Hamlet and to the son of his body, Hamnet…”(188).
Additionally, this talk of the father son relationship seems to hearken back to Bloom as a father figure for Stephen, as we have mentioned before in class. Stephen is the world of the ideal. Perhaps Bloom in the corporeal. “Where there is a reconciliation, there must have been first a sundering” (193). These characters are tied in an interesting, significant way, which I would bet will be brought out even more as the story continues.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Lestrygonians
The theme of insatiety and impotence recurs. There is butter and sugar everywhere, but nothing nourishing. The church serves as candy here just as it served as lotus or poppies, in the lotus-eaters. The priests are well fed on butter, but the Dedalus girl is starving. The people of the wasteland are still awaiting a messiah, Bloom, unmistakably. “Bloo…Me? No. / Blood of the Lamb,” (151).
Bloom is in a state of arrest, a fly in the bar window, and retreats from his role as messiah. The messiah will not be birthed. A woman has labored for days, and it will not come, just as the body is yet to be found in the water, and Bloom’s son was born dead. Jesus is on the wall, hanging, and has yet to rise (151). “Hamlet, I am thy father’s spirit / Doomed for a certain time to walk the earth,” (152). The resurrection has not occurred.
The people of Dublin are more ready to accept a false prophet then the seagulls are, who reject the crumbled throwaway that Bloom tries to pass as bread, or manna from heaven. He purchases them real bread, and they gobble it up. At least the gulls are fed. Throughout this chapter there are numerous references to consuming poisonous, inedible, or junk food, or things that are just not meant to be eaten, such as the rats in the porter, or swans.
Bloom wanders the streets, letting his mind meander as he slowly searches for a suitable eatery. Just as in the lotus-eaters, Bloom’s mind works hard to try to elude thoughts of Molly, which lead to thoughts of Boylan, who Bloom also tries to physically avoid. Women, again, are tempestuous, cruel creatures. Molly’s pins are all over the house, and he thinks to purchase her a pincushion for her birthday. She has pricked him relentlessly. He runs into an old love interest, Mrs. Breen, who is covered in pastry flakes and sugar. Once a sharp dresser, and a beauty, Breen is now unappealing and old, only a year older then Molly, reminding Bloom of the inescapable plight of time. Breen takes a pin out of her purse, but puts it back. Like Martha, her flower has no scent. He pin will not prick Bloom.
No women are appealing in this episode. Their breasts are tired and overworked, dried up grapes, insufficient for reproduction. The baby will not be birthed. The only appealing woman, as always, is Molly. It is apparent that Bloom’s hunger reaches far beyond that of the tummy. Memories of Molly’s satiable love finally reach Bloom’s mind in a beautifully written scene on page 176.
Ravished over her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. Softly she gave me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweet and sour with spittle. Joy: I ate it: joy.”
This thought ends with “Me. And me now.” Bloom ponders over rather common philosophical issues: the me in the past is different then the me of now. Also, previously in this episode, Bloom’s faithful cloud momentarily covers the sunlight, and he has a momentary bout of depression: just as people die they are supplanted by numerous other births. The world keeps spinning. Everything is meaningless. Its all gas and dust. Language is just a bunch of sounds. ‘No one is anything.’
He also, in his philosophical meanderings, considers the word, parallax, much like Molly’s metempsychosis. His mind cannot penetrate the word, but he is intrigued. The word seems fitting. Life is a stream that stretches along the curbstone, therefore, linear. Life is time. If we are physically above this line, we can see the past as well as the present and the future. Parallax is “the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points of view.” This could hearken back to Blooms view his different selves, and also the self of the future. The messiah has been crucified, but will he rise again?
After considering Molly, Bloom’s mind reverts to a beauty beyond the ‘ineluctable modality’, or the grasp of time. He seeks ambrosial feasts and the beauty of statues. Bloom has been reminded numerous times in this episode of his impotence, concerning Molly. He suitors are everywhere in this chapter, and Bloom compares himself to them. When the blind man refers to Bloom as a man, Bloom thinks, it must be my voice, which reminds us of Molly’s suitor, the ‘barreltone’ baritone. Bloom is starving, but someone at the restaurant mentions that Molly is well fed. Bloom cannot avoid Boylan, and, in fact, sees him from a slight distance, and tries to evade his glance. His heart beats like a bird's as he retreats, like Ulysses, fumbling for his soap.
Bloom is in a state of arrest, a fly in the bar window, and retreats from his role as messiah. The messiah will not be birthed. A woman has labored for days, and it will not come, just as the body is yet to be found in the water, and Bloom’s son was born dead. Jesus is on the wall, hanging, and has yet to rise (151). “Hamlet, I am thy father’s spirit / Doomed for a certain time to walk the earth,” (152). The resurrection has not occurred.
The people of Dublin are more ready to accept a false prophet then the seagulls are, who reject the crumbled throwaway that Bloom tries to pass as bread, or manna from heaven. He purchases them real bread, and they gobble it up. At least the gulls are fed. Throughout this chapter there are numerous references to consuming poisonous, inedible, or junk food, or things that are just not meant to be eaten, such as the rats in the porter, or swans.
Bloom wanders the streets, letting his mind meander as he slowly searches for a suitable eatery. Just as in the lotus-eaters, Bloom’s mind works hard to try to elude thoughts of Molly, which lead to thoughts of Boylan, who Bloom also tries to physically avoid. Women, again, are tempestuous, cruel creatures. Molly’s pins are all over the house, and he thinks to purchase her a pincushion for her birthday. She has pricked him relentlessly. He runs into an old love interest, Mrs. Breen, who is covered in pastry flakes and sugar. Once a sharp dresser, and a beauty, Breen is now unappealing and old, only a year older then Molly, reminding Bloom of the inescapable plight of time. Breen takes a pin out of her purse, but puts it back. Like Martha, her flower has no scent. He pin will not prick Bloom.
No women are appealing in this episode. Their breasts are tired and overworked, dried up grapes, insufficient for reproduction. The baby will not be birthed. The only appealing woman, as always, is Molly. It is apparent that Bloom’s hunger reaches far beyond that of the tummy. Memories of Molly’s satiable love finally reach Bloom’s mind in a beautifully written scene on page 176.
Ravished over her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. Softly she gave me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweet and sour with spittle. Joy: I ate it: joy.”
This thought ends with “Me. And me now.” Bloom ponders over rather common philosophical issues: the me in the past is different then the me of now. Also, previously in this episode, Bloom’s faithful cloud momentarily covers the sunlight, and he has a momentary bout of depression: just as people die they are supplanted by numerous other births. The world keeps spinning. Everything is meaningless. Its all gas and dust. Language is just a bunch of sounds. ‘No one is anything.’
He also, in his philosophical meanderings, considers the word, parallax, much like Molly’s metempsychosis. His mind cannot penetrate the word, but he is intrigued. The word seems fitting. Life is a stream that stretches along the curbstone, therefore, linear. Life is time. If we are physically above this line, we can see the past as well as the present and the future. Parallax is “the apparent displacement or the difference in apparent direction of an object as seen from two different points of view.” This could hearken back to Blooms view his different selves, and also the self of the future. The messiah has been crucified, but will he rise again?
After considering Molly, Bloom’s mind reverts to a beauty beyond the ‘ineluctable modality’, or the grasp of time. He seeks ambrosial feasts and the beauty of statues. Bloom has been reminded numerous times in this episode of his impotence, concerning Molly. He suitors are everywhere in this chapter, and Bloom compares himself to them. When the blind man refers to Bloom as a man, Bloom thinks, it must be my voice, which reminds us of Molly’s suitor, the ‘barreltone’ baritone. Bloom is starving, but someone at the restaurant mentions that Molly is well fed. Bloom cannot avoid Boylan, and, in fact, sees him from a slight distance, and tries to evade his glance. His heart beats like a bird's as he retreats, like Ulysses, fumbling for his soap.
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