Finally getting to know Mrs. Marion Bloom

So, the finally chapter of Ulysses. 'Penelope' goes deep inside the feminine consciousness (or stream of consciousness) in a practically unpunctuated free flowing chapter. French feminism talks of gendered language, but I think Joyce has given Molly a proper feminine voice that contrasts wonderfully with the rest of the book and the characters. It is evident that she takes herself less seriously than the men and she is wonderfully unashamed about sex (again, unlike Bloom and Stephen). Again, this is far more obscene than 'Nasusicaa', yet it is not obscene, just honest. A fitting end to a truly epic novel. 

 

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.  

The Lotus Eaters/Ulysses as a Comic Novel

I haven't done my required reading for the day as yet, but I did manage to read 'The Lotus Eaters' (chapter 5) last night. I enjoyed this chapter and I think it helped me to start to see the connection with the source material without resorting to the many guides method. I have succumed to note-taking within the book though, and I did have to read over the part in the church a few time, as I kept feeling as if I'd missed something.

I was amused by the advertsing slogan:

What is home without
Plumtree's potted meat?
Incomplete
With it an abode of bliss.

Ironic, because of the use of the rhetorical device and the highly poetic hyperbolic language.
 

(Taken from the St. Andrew's Parish Church website where this chapter was set. Note the lack of mention of the novel if you go on the website)

The part in the church confused me a little because I think I was looking for some sort of 'message' that Joyce had hidden in there. However, that way lies getting bogged down I think. I can't look there for Joyce's attitude to religion, what we're looking at is the way that Bloom is observing the Catholic religion as an outsider, and the way that Joyce is using the Church to fit in with the idea of the Lotus Eaters - in this case the church-goers who are sporific from the Latin and receiving the sacrament. There is an air of hypocrisy (on the part of the church-goers) prevading parts of it, for example, Bloom/Joyce describes a woman going to confession: 'Repentance skindeep. Lovely shame' and the listing of various aspects of religion makes it seem inconsequential somehow. There are also hints about church and state being rather too intertwined. 

The little advertising slogan was the first hint, but listening to the first part of the radio broadcast opened my eyes (pun intended). The way that the book is revered and feared makes you forget that it is meant to be a comic novel, not just a weighty tone for masochists! I think listening to it makes it far more accessible, as it is easier to tell between what is dialogue and what is stream-of-consciousness. I have also heard of editions that have been reformatted to make it easy to read. Anyway, I am certainly going to listen to the rest of the Radio 4 broadcast. I'm not expecting the rest of the book to be laugh-a-minute, but it has been a pleasant surprise. 

Suppose I should get back to reading it now. Next part - the funeral (Hades).

Notes on Notes

I managed to read the first three chapters of Ulysses last night and a forth chapter this morning. I had time last night to carry on reading, but felt satisfied after the three chapters I read. When I began, I was using the notes at the back a great deal, particularly with the third chapter (Proteus); however, I found that the notes sometimes interrupted the flow. Sometimes I want to know what it means, other times I just want to enjoy the ebb and flow of the language. At the moment, I am looking up a point if I need to, but I leave the chapter summaries until the end and don’t worry unduly if I don’t really ‘get’ it. I don’t think I’m supposed to, especially on the first reading. All those bloomin’ charts on who is supposed to be whom and the colours and organs and motifs for each chapter/episode? Too off-putting for a first reading. 

My response? I am half dazzled by the magnificent lyricism of the writing, half convinced of its insufferable pretention. I found the third chapter hard as some of the internet reviews warned, but I am not tempted to line up the study guides yet, and the fourth chapter (Calypso) thankfully normal service resumed. I can see how Joyce has influenced other writers, not just of the period but later as well (Infinite Jest springs to mind). It is a stunning use of stream-of-consciousness/interior monologue technique in the way that Joyce’s characters have distinct ‘voices’. 

Studying Classics and R.E at school and Classics modules at University has helped, having little knowledge of Irish history and politics has hindered. Nevertheless, I am pushing on. Glad that I never studied the book in University as I can see that it is not a book to be forced; you have to want to read it, and probably to re-read it time and time again to be able to fully explore the multitude of references.

Internet research has been fruitful and varied. Glad that there are people out there fence-sitting, I am intimidated by the rabid intellectuals screaming that it is the best book in the English language, and by the equally fervent haters who can’t understand why anyone would like it. I’d rather stay out of either camp, and I am particularly not reading it so that I can boast about the experience. Perhaps I am just one of those people out there who enjoy the masochistic thrill of the whole thing. I am bemused by the anecdotes of people treating it like some sort of Bible, making pilgrimages to Ireland.

The text is undoubtedly error-riddled, but I’m glad that I’m reading this particular edition as it is a facsimile of the original edition. It gives the experience of reading it as it was, minus the modern typefaces and corrections. 

I've taken this image from an article on Bibioklept 'How to Read James Joyce's Ulysses (and why you should avoid how to guides like this one)'. 

A helpful, enthusiastic yet not too deferential atricle. I like Blah Blah Bloomsday too (from the same site), good links and pictures.