What fresh lunacy is this?!

So, having put the dreaded Proust on hold for the moment due to the weight of book and lack of time, and being bogged down by the penultimate Barchester chronicle as well as numerous other rather large volumes, I have gone and joined a reading challenge group on Goodreads and committed myself to a six month reading of the dreaded Clarissa. It's a bit naughty, but I was hoping that I would be able to not only get through this behemoth, but also discuss it with some other readers. I'm not sure anybody has actually started it yet, but so far it's not going too badly. I'm a aiming for about five per cent per week so that I can hopefully read it in about five months and I'm reading it on the Kindle fire, which somehow makes it less intimidating. Only thing is, I have a free edition so I miss the footnotes of the paperback edition I have previously tried to read. Still, I can always refer to the other edition, and there is no danger of the spine breaking as it is prone to do on the paperback.
I think Clarissa is  quite a difficult book to judge by modern standards, as the age makes some of it seem very distant to the way people think and behave and read novels. From studying Defoe and Richardson's other novel, Pamela I know that the novel as a form was just taking off and was generally frowned upon for being frivolous and untrue. Writers tried to make it seem as true to life as possible and containing a strong moral message. The messages of Clarissa are that a rake cannot be reformed by marriage and that parents should not treat their children too harshly, I imagine this  would have been quite a controversial proposition for parents of the period. 
It's an understandably difficult book to read, not just in terms of the length but also the way it's written in the epistolary form. So far, I've found that this does give the narrative a sense of urgency, as the letters are written immediately after the events, often the in the evening after the day's events have unfolded. Clarissa is a bit of a contradictory character in that although she is a dutiful, obedient daughter she is dead set against the suitor that her parents have chosen. In fact, there is a sense that Mr. Solmes is not really the person that her parents would have chosen, the family is seemingly controlled by her bachelor uncles, who are concerned with the financial prosperity that a match would bring, and, surprisingly by the older children who act out of jealousy of Clarissa's inheritance from her grandfather, and a hatred for Mr. Lovelace, Arabella's former suitor who briefly tries to switch courting Clarissa (at least this is how Clarissa herself reads the motives of her siblings). She writes about Lovelace, but not as if she considers him a suitor, as he has a bit of a reputation. Mr. Solmes on the other hand, she immediately abhors. 
Mr. Lovelace is another rather contradictory character, although he is considered a rake from the start, Clarissa describes how he gives money to a family in need. He may be putting on a face for the family, but it does serve to slightly warm him towards Clarissa, and she sees him a few times when she is visiting her friend Miss Howe. Miss Howe is a great character, the kind of naughty best friend who contrasts nicely with Clarissa's virtuousness.
Anyway, 3% in and although I know where the plot is going (I saw the TV series years ago and did modules in uni that at least alluded to it, although no-one was brave enough or daft enough to use it as a set book, Pamela was bad enough!), I still think I will be glad to read it.

Brain Exercise!

Chapter 14, 'Oxen of the Sun' opens in a maternity hospital with something akin to religious chanting. This was another chapter where it was necessary to refer to copious amounts of notes and often, to re-read passages to attempt to get the 'jist' of what was going on. Here, we begin to see Ulysses as not only an odyssey in the traditional sense, but also as an odyssey through literature itself, beginning with Roman historians of around 80 B.C. Woolf quoted Eliot as saying '...It showed up the futility of all English styles' (Ulysses, p907, OUP 1998). There are nine different episodes corresponding to periods of gestation, but also two other episodes which are like the afterbirth. The periods of gestation move through the different periods of literature which are written in a way that parodies them, but also provides the plot of a group of men visiting a hospital then getting drunk and arguing (which seems to be a frequent theme of the book, I have noticed). 

This is a hard chapter to read, and I admit, not my favourite, even though I did admire Joyce's ability to parody all these different styles and to fit this around the plot and the characters, who became constantly shifting heroes from different periods of literature. I think the problem that I had here was the sense that this was a book written by a man for men, that this group of men standing around getting very drunk talking about women in a rather callous way - the inevitable whores n' sluts, their oh-so-intellectual discussion about the Catholic theory of saving the child rather than the woman, Stephen's great list of women being impregnated by 'fabulous' means and Buck's great idea about hiring himself out as a stud left me rather cold. I don't think of myself as being some sort of radical feminist (although I am also trying to to be a feminist apologist here), but I got a bit annoyed with Joyce's odyssey through the literature of male authors as well. Perhaps it was down to the mood I was in when I read it.

I found myself wondering what Woolf made of it, I know that there are reports that she felt rather ambivalent to say the least. According to a Yale article I'm reading, it looks as if she admired the stylistic innovations, but didn't enjoy reading the book, preferring Proust. I am glad to read Woolf's rather amusing disparaging comments about it, however, I can't say that this article has illuminated the feminism question for me; it seems that she was more concerned with indecency and her idea of Joyce as a pimply-faced bootboy!

Ito has analysed anti-semitism and anti-feminism in Giacomo Joyce, another work by Joyce. Ito describes how Joyce was inspired to write Ulysses by Otto Weininger who was somewhat of a anti-semitic anti-feminist. Ito considers Giacomo Joyce to have underlying elements of this, but he considered that the inspiration Joyce had for Ulysses was merely the ideas of the 'self-hating Jew' and the 'Jew as a womanly man'.

I think that I am going to give Ulysses the benefit of the doubt at the moment, but return to the question at a later date. 

Other than the grand tour through literature, Bloom and Stephen meet for the first time and Bloom is somewhat impressed by him. Stephen retains his flippancy about religion, veering towards blasphemy by parodying Jesus at the last supper. There are plays on words with fertility/futility and ideas about childbirth and creation, with Stephen comparing childbirth to posterity gained through writing, or 'postcreation' as he calls it. Joyce refers back to his source material in the anecdote about the bull of Ireland, a marvellous worshiped bull, and Mulligan's idea of giving something back to humanity by living on a island offering his stud service to woman who want children. 

Overall, if I ignored the vague sense of annoyance I felt reading it, this was a very clever chapter, and I'm sure other people enjoy it. I am ready to finish it, however. I know that the next episode is massive, but I want to push forward as much as I can to get the finishing line.

A Romantic Interlude...

Amazingly, another readable chapter of Ulysses. Okay, so it's readable because Joyce is writing a parody of certain types of sentimental romance, but it's still nice to move a little away from something that requires the utmost concentration. I think it's also the bit of The Odyssey I remember the most (aside from the Cyclops incident). 


The episode opens with an idyllic seaside excursion and our very own Nausicaa, Gerty MacDowell. I wondered if Gerty was another Hamlet reference. The episode parodies The Lamplighter, by an American author called Maria Susanna Cummings. The novel's heroine, Gerty, has to overcome adversity using her own inner resources to ultimately find happiness. I suppose you could call it a feminist novel as it was intended to instruct as well as entertain young women on becoming self-reliant (although not in a shunning men kind of a way presumably).

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Rather than use first person narrative or the ol' stream-of-consciousness malarkey, Joyce uses the third person, so Gerty doesn't really get a 'voice' as such, however, the narrative style suits her perfectly; a mixture of romantic fiction and women's magazines. It's a beautiful description, almost tender, yet at the same time reminding us of Gerty's frailties. Some of the lurid prose reminded me somewhat of Lady Chatterly's Lover, but not in a bad way, although I think perhaps Lawrence wouldn't have found that a compliment!  

Gerty spots Bloom on the beach and reacts to him in a completely different way to the other characters' disdain and downright antipathy toward him. She thinks that he looks like a film star in morning and perhaps fancies him because he looks different. She doesn't consider his Jewishness which is obvious to the other people bloom has encountered so far. Gerty sees herself as some sort of combination of the traditional Catholic ideas of the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene; innocent, motherly and a temptress all at the same time. Sex mingling with religion. This is further complicated with blood as Gerty feels her period starting. 

The 'shocking' bit was tame by today's standards, but I suppose I can see why it might be considered obscene by the standards of the day, where masturbation was considered at the very least to be something to be discouraged. I guess there is also everything that this chapter represents - an older man spying on a younger woman (who is showing off her legs to him) and becoming sexually aroused accompanied to the sounds of fireworks going off. I suppose that at the time the fireworks were a bit more of a nice touch rather than the romantic fiction then parody film cliche they've become. 

Anyway, Bloom finishes off, having almost been discovered in the act by Cissy asking him the time, then Gerty limps off, leaving Bloom to discover her lameness, much to his surprise. I did love the way that Bloom's final image of her was as someone imperfect that he felt sorry for, somehow it made her much more real as a character. After Gerty's flowery third person musings on love it's an abrupt shock to return to Bloom's matter-of-fact, darting stream-of-consciousness.

As for Gerty as a female character in a book populated by men? I suppose you could see her a cliche for her idea of herself as the virgin/whore, and disparage Joyce both for his parody of books that are popular to women and his portrayal of Gerty as being rather self-obsessed, but I have to say I was fine with his portrayal and thought it fitted in well with the Nausicaa of The Odyssey. I also liked the humour of the episode, with Gerty's delight about her underwear, I think we are meant to view her as being a little bit young and silly rather than representing all women.  

Ito Returns with an Essay on the Cyclops Episode

Another excellent essay, this time on Naoki Yanase's theory that the nameless narrator is a dog. Yanase translated Finnegan's Wake and wrote Solving an Enigma of James Joyce. Ito analyses different drafts of Ulysses and Joyce's list of characters, coming up with Leary the Dog (who is not Garryowen). Ito is cautious about assuming that this is proof of the theory. He provides an interesting background about the identity of the mysterious Citizen - Michael Cusack, a 'Gaelic athletic enthusiast'. Ito concludes by asking if we really need to know the identity of the narrator anyway? Good theory, but I'm with Ito on this one.

In search of lost plots...

I admit, I'm finding it quite hard to keep up the reading at the moment, guess life is intruding, especially now it's the end of the academic year, which is always a bit fraught. It wasn't that bad getting into it, but I am missing the plot part of it and I am only about a quarter way through (it seems). Not a book that can be picked up and put down at will either. I have been finishing off Rivals and am nearly done with the Stephen King doorstop too, I just have to focus more on the Ulysses. 

Another Bloom Chapter, the Laestrygonians (or Lestrygonians). We are walking through the maze with no guide here, my friends. Ito is not accompanying us this time, although I have found articles by him and on him, including one from Times Higher Education. I am charmed by the description, but must move on from minor crushes on critics.

Many pencil notes popping up in this chapter. I am struck by the imagery: food imagery mingling with birth, sex, death and decay. It is quite a visceral chapter, opening with the innocent children's sweets mingling with the religious 'Blood of the Lamb' then moving straight into more violent religious imagery. 

Politics plays a heavy part with frequent references, this can be quite difficult, sort of like watching Irish Victorian Mock the Week, as Mr. OQ described it. Footnotes are not really that helpful as they gloss over important points, so it can be helpful to read around it. That, or accept that it's going to require far more research than you want to do. I'm going with a mixture of the two approaches here. The Yale article is sufficiently illuminating if we can't have Ito. I have found an interesting image from an odd website called liberateUlysses, the purpose of which is to celebrate Bloomsday 2012. Surprised I haven't found it before. The image was created in 2004 by students at the National College of Art and Design in Dublin.
 
 Odysseus and his men meet cannibals, who feed in frenzied greed, much as Bloom meets the disgusting individuals stuffing their faces in the Burton's restaurant. He expresses concern for the large Catholic families who live in poverty and take more than their fair share of resources; comparing their religious customs and perceived greed to the Jewish practice of fasting. Bloom's outsider's perspective allows Joyce to potentially comment. Bloom continues to reveal episides from his past, in this case musing on his relationship with Molly and what happened to them after the death of Rudy.

As previously, images and slogans from advertisments play a part in the narrative, but in this case Bloom reacts more to them, criticising the stuipidity of Plumtree's potted meat. 

Anyway, onto Scylla and Charybdis. Quite an enjoyable part of The Odyssey, although I have never worked out how to pronounce the second one. Reminds me of wine. I'll have a nice glass of Charybdis, please.  

Aeolus - In the Newspaper Offices

This was not my favourite chapter, and in fact, took two goes and a night off reading (I got about halfway through, but really wasn't in the mood so decided to put it down and go back to it). 
I guess I felt on the first reading that I was missing things with the newspaper headlines and the magic rhetorical techniques, which I admit to knowing very little about. This seems to be a quite inaccessible chapter which would benefit from a study guide. I found myself bewildered as to what was actually happening (although this may be due to my current mood), so ended up focussing more of the depiction of the newspaper office and the multiple references to wind in the chaper.







Taken from an American site. 
Reading around the chapter, it looks as if some of the chapter headings aim to confuse as a technique (as if the book doesn't confuse and bewilder enough). I guess I can see here why people dislke it or find it hard to read, but I'm determined to finish it. Some of the headlines add to the chapter, summaring the sections or adding irony, for example, 'unfeigned regret' I thought was quite ironic in tone, some headlines are misleading or don't make a lot of sense to me. The chapter is also full with plays on words, riddles and lymericks. Thankfully, the wonderful Ito has written another article, which has cleared a few things up. He doesn't get to bogged-down in the rhetorical side of things, but again links the writing with the history behind it. I was going to try and look at the rhetric, but on further reflection, I think I'd actually rather spend the time actually reading the book, so I am going to move swiftly on.  

A Visit to Glasnevin Cemetery

Taken from Explow website.
(Originally from www.jochenhertweck.com, but watch out for this site as I had a security warning pop up).

Chapter  6 takes place in Hades/Glasnevin Cemetery Dublin, where we learn more about Bloom's character and background. It carries on nicely from Bloom's visit to the church in the previous chapter as he continues to observe the world around him. Bloom is forced to endure an uncomfortable carriage ride with a group of men who are preparing to attend the internment of a person they knew, but were not really that close to. The carriage ride is evidently meant to represent the boat trip to Hades, allowing the occupants to tell some blackly humourous stories and for them to unwittingly disturb Bloom with their attitude to suicide. He makes some mental observations about people's ghoulish curiosity about death, in particular violent death and remembers both his son's death and  his father's suicide, dwelling on the decay of the body and Catholic funeral customs.  

In both this chapter and the next Joyce uses fresh narrative techniques, in this one a technique he referred to as incubism. This could be a lovley excuse for some dry ramblings, but alas, I am no cultural phenomenologist, just a former English grad with a desmond, so I liked this article better. Eishiro Ito gives a great background, and I particularly liked the way the article analysed the different drafts to show how Joyce intensified and darkened the chapter. Much easier to read than the other article!