OXEN OF THE SUN

Because this episode is set in a maternity ward for the most part, it comes as no surprise that themes of fecundity (bloom’s meditation on Theodore Purfoy), bareness (wasteland images before the rain) and conception (esp. of ideas – all the authors Joyce has referenced) run rampant through the pages. Joyce further echoes these themes by assuming the roles of past authors to create an evolution (another theme explored with references to Darwin and the ‘missing link’) of writing styles through the ages. The relationship created between the events in the narrative and the morphing narrative style is micro/macrocosmic and they tend to dip in an out of each other. One of my favorite imitations Joyce explores is the gothic novel – which is clearly exaggerated, but it too incorporates larger ideas in an immediate scene: “My hell, and Ireland’s is in this life.” The section that follows the gothic seems to be a thinly veiled allusion to Joyce’s decision to construct this episode in this particular manner: “What is the age of the soul of the man? As she hath the virtue of the chameleon to change her hue at every new approach.. so too is her age changeable as her mood.”

Another interesting facet of this episode is the way Bloom is represented and described (childe Leopold, sir Leopold, traveler Leopold.) In keeping with his tendency toward empathy Bloom continually wonders at Mina Purfoy’s plight: “Sir Leopold heard on the upfloor cry on high and he wondered what cry that it was whether of child or woman.” Later in the episode he turns his thoughts to her husband, Theodore in what further reveals Bloom’s insecurities in his ability to procreate.

One part of the episode that I found particularly self-conscious on Joyce’ part was when he abuts the Defoe section with a diary section (allusion to Robinson Crusoe?) however it is also incredibly brilliant. It is also in the diary section that a rain storm is described, which brings life to the “barrenness” – in the same vein as how Robinson Crusoe brought new life to the English literary tradition by being considered the first novel.

CYCLOPS

Incredible episode. It is vastly different than the chapters that preceded it, not only because the narrator has materialized into a character but also because we never enter into either of the two protagonists’ thoughts. The narrator’s perspective is highly exaggerated and editorial – he spends nearly two pages describing the figure of the citizen. This description stands out particularly in light of the basic one line descriptions allotted to our supposed heroes. “The eyes in which a tear and a smile strove ever for the mastery were of the dimensions of a goodsized cauliflower.” The narrator’s style boarders on absurdity and hilarity especially when he goes on to list “Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity,” which naturally includes Cleopatra and Adam and Eve. At the end of this particular rambling the bartender brings over their pints, Joe “lays out a quid” and then the narrator remarks to us, “O, as true as I’m telling you.” This seems to be an obvious poke at the ‘reliable narrator’ trope from Joyce because he certainly is not reliable but leads us through wordy ramblings.

SIRENS

The language Joyce uses in this Episode is at times unavoidably luscious and indulgent and usually accompanies a character when they are eating or drinking. “Boylan eyed, eyed. Tossed to fat lips his chalice, drankoff his tiny chalice, sucking the last fat violet syrupy drops.” (267) The thinly veiled sexual connotation does not come as a surprise in light of Boylan’s character and ironically enough links him to Bloom and serves as a sort of metaphor for each man’s sexual appetites. Bloom again eats with relish “the inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods’ roes.” But while Bloom takes pleasure in eating Bolyan takes pleasure in drinking up Miss Douce’s attention. This part also reminded me of the peach and pear exchange between Boylan and the shop girl in the previous chapter. Joyce uses images of food to both reflect a character’s disposition and as metaphors for things left unsaid (the blushing of the peaches.)

The Siren Episode is appropriately aural. Not only do the frequent instances of “jiggedy jingle jaunty jaunty” give sound to the text but the words themselves are often alliterative and echoing and contain assonance: “Brightly the keys, all twinkling, linked, all harsichording, called to a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of youth, of love’s leavetaking, life’s, love’s morn.” (264) Sound becomes serpentine weaving though Joyce’s words and giving them a poetic song-like quality – this is what Joyce does best: he uses these subtle techniques to translate a particular feeling or impression from a scene for the reader without using explicit descriptions.

The Wandering Rocks

I am not quite sure what to make of the fractured vignettes in the Wandering Rocks Episode. Surely it is and interesting and a well timed lull it what seemed to be a focus on Stephen and Bloom. So, in a way that is just what Joyce may be doing here- breathing life and giving depth to other characters and situations that up until not have remained on the periphery. In the first vignette with father Conmee – the third person removal is unavoidable. Nearly every other paragraph begins with, “Father Conmee this,” or “Father Conmee that,” if anything this chapter brings to the forefront the narrator’s role in the course of events and that perhaps he too is part of the story (or what enlivens it.) Through the narration of Father Conmee we see how the narrator proves to be quite editorial and omnipotent in his remarks- “ Father Conmee walked and walking, smiled for he thought on father Bernard Vaughans’s droll eyes and cockney voice.”
In particular these different insights shed light on the relationship between Simon Dedalus and his children. Simon is the absent father, the inadequate father and the father nominally and not in any other way. This, I think, is important to note in comparison to Bloom who longs to have had a boy to father in a close way. In a sense Bloom plays the role of a father to his wife Molly. He makes her breakfast in bed, buys her smutty novels, encourages her singing career and now that their relationship is no longer sexual he sees her in a more detached way.

Lestrygonians

What strikes me about Bloom, particularly in this chapter, is his preoccupation with other people’s families. His hyperawareness probably stems from the now sterile relationship he has with his own wife and the fact that his only living child doesn’t resemble him. Bloom finds this troubling – that Milly is a “watered-down” version of Molly when it is so easy for him to identify Dedalus’ daughter (“knew her eyes at once from the father”) – a case where there is no doubt about paternity. Through the chapter he goes on to reminisce about when Molly was pregnant and Milly was young and being washed in a tub, which is accompanied by the comment, “Happy. Happier then.”

What also struck me about this chapter was the plethora of common sayings and figures of speech that interject Blooms thoughts – “nature abhors a vacuum,” “mum’s the word,” “proof of the pudding,” “wear out my welcome,” etc.. They seem to wander into his thoughts as he wanders about town – thus perpetuating the wandering and “homeless” theme so closely tied to Bloom’s character. The only time in the Episode when we exit Bloom’s head is when Nosey Flynn’s conversation about Bloom dominates the text. The way Joyce treats Bloom’s interior monologue is somewhat matter-of-factly and distended enough so as to not elicit sympathy from us as readers. Despite the many pages we have spent in Bloom’s head I feel far more empathy and understanding for Steven even tough on the face of it his thoughts seemed more elusive.

HADES

While reading the Hades chapter I suddenly became aware of Joyce’s use of boat/water imagery, not only in this episode but previous episodes as well. Boat imagery, in this case, is a natural occurrence for the obvious river Styx allusions in a chapter centering on a funeral. But because of the constant presence and references to boats I am wondering if Joyce is working on constructing a complex symbol. Bloom at the end of the funeral, says to himself, “Beside him again. We are the last. In the same boat. Hope he’ll say something else.” Technically the “he” is Mr Kernan but it may be more prophetic in its intent – I think this could also be read as if it is Bloom sitting in the boat with Charon (the ferryman of the dead) – in his own vision of death. Earlier in this episode Bloom and the other men discuss the story of Rueben J. and his son who was rescued by a boatman after he falls into the water. Again boats and death are linked, however this time the boy is saved and brought to life by the boatman. This story is echoed in Telemachus when Stephen remembers a drowned man whose body was found.
Both of these instances makes me think back to the Proteus chapter, which ends with Stephen seeing a ship: “Moving through the air high spars of a three master, her sails brailed up on the crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a silent ship.” This is especially cryptic – will the ship bring someone to rescue Stephen or will it usher him to some sort of demise? In addition to all of this Joyce has named the pub where Stephen is supposed to meet up with Buck, The Ship.

So far, images of ships/boats are linked to the transition between life and death or death and life. It will be interesting to see it Joyce will keep this up or change its meaning or drop it altogether.

CALYPSO

The first episode of book II invites the reader to draw parallels between Stephen and Bloom. Both Telemachus and Calypso open with a name and a description of an imposing and even frightening figure: Buck Mulligan and Leopold Bloom: “Mr. Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liver slices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencod's roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.” Bloom is described in a considerably more visceral way than the other characters we have encountered up until this point. Everything about him is bodily and pulsing – much more alive than how one imagines Stephen. Even their respective daydreams and thoughts are vastly different (though similar in their wanderings.) Stephen and Bloom seem like embodiments of the Apollonian and the Dionysian. Stephen is clearly Apollonian in the way his thoughts are lofty and poetic while Bloom is concerned with bodily pleasures (wanting to watch the woman’s hips and finding satisfaction in his bowel movements.) Bloom’s thought process is rooted in the natural things he sees (wondering how the cat sees him and wishing to walk around the earth in front of the sun.)