A ppendix A

Synopsis of Ulysses

1. “Telemachus.” On June 16, 1904, at 8:00 a.m., Stephen Dedalus is residing with his mocking medical student friend Buck Mulligan at a stone tower in Sandycove, on the shore of Dublin Bay about seven miles southeast of the city center. Stephen has passed a diff- ficult night because Haines, Mulligan’s English houseguest, kept him awake “raving all night about a black panther” (1.7). Stephen has also had a dream about his dead mother, who passed away about a year ago. Stephen still wears mourning clothes and is tormented with guilt (“agenbite of inwit” [1.481]) over his refusal to pray at his mother’s deathbed when she asked him to. Mulligan’s insensitivity to Stephen’s feelings is one reason for his imminent departure from the tower; Haines is another: Mulligan wants Stephen to perform for the Englishman for money, but Stephen finds the smug, anti-Semitic Saxon intolerable (“If he stays on here I am off” [1.62–63]). The three breakfast together, with the milkwoman—in Stephen’s mind— playing the symbolic role of Ireland: slighting the artist while giving her attention to the Englishman and the “priest.” Stephen and Haines talk about history as Mulligan swims in the swimming hole known as the Forty Foot, having extracted the key to the tower from Stephen, as well as two pence for a pint. The three plan to meet at a pub later in the day: “The Ship [. . .] Half twelve” (1.733). 2. “Nestor.” Stephen is seen here as a schoolmaster teaching at a boys’ school in Dalkey, about a mile southeast of the Sandycove tower. He attempts to teach a history lesson about Pyrrhus’s defense of Tarentum, a Greek colony in lower Italy, against the Romans. He then has a boy “recite” from Milton’s Lycidass, an elegiac poem about a dead friend named Edward King. Stephen dismisses class with a seemingly senseless riddle, then tutors a young pupil in math; the boy, Sargent, reminds Stephen of himself when he was young and of the reality of the love between mother and child. Then, with the boys 186 Appendix A outside playing field hockey, Stephen sits through a lecture on mone- tary prudence by the headmaster Mr. Deasy as he receives his monthly wage. Deasy is a Protestant Irishman who supports the British in Ire- land. He has the sense that Stephen, raised Catholic, is some kind of political rival, which prompts Deasy into a series of often confused remarks about Irish history. Deasy has written a letter on hoof-and- mouth disease and asks Stephen to read it. The schoolmaster seems to attribute British embargoes of Irish goods to Jewish financial manipu- lation rather than British political control. Despite an all but complete disagreement on the nature of history, which throws some doubt on Stephen’s future employment, Deasy asks Stephen to get his letter published. As Stephen leaves the school, Deasy runs after him to tell him an anti-Semitic joke. 3. “Proteus.” Stephen walks north toward Dublin along Sandy- mount Strand and meditates about a variety of things: Aristotle’s metaphysics (especially the relationship of time and space), his expe- riences in Paris in 1903, his mother’s death and the telegram that summoned him home from Paris: “Nother dying come home father” (3.199). After the opening meditation and an “experiment” to test the nature of reality, Stephen opens his eyes to see two women whom he imagines are midwives come to dispose of a misbirth (3.36). This fantasy leads him to think of fatherhood and generation, and thence of his relatives: his aunt Sara and uncle Richie Goulding, his mother’s brother. Stephen is evidently considering either visiting or staying with them for a while and so conjures up a comic scene of a visit (3.70–103). He then remembers elements of his earlier life, first as a Catholic youth who compromised his faith in the face of adolescent sexuality (3.128–34) and then as a pretentious litterateur (3.136–46). Next, through a series of linguistic associations, he recalls a conversation with Patrice Egan, son of the exiled Fenian leader Kevin Egan (a.k.a. Joseph Casey), shortly after Stephen’s return from Paris (3.163–73). Since Patrice is a soldier in the French army, the memory leads to thoughts about Stephen’s brief stay in Paris, includ- ing a visit Stephen made to Kevin Egan himself (3.216–64). After this, Stephen looks south, the direction of the Martello tower, and decides that he will not return there (3.276). Then he notices a dead dog (3.286; symbolic, perhaps, of Stephen’s decision to abandon his role as “dogsbody,” British military slang for drudgee or servant) and a live one, described in highly “Protean” language (3.332–52). The dog belongs to a pair of cocklepickers, who may actually be Gypsies. In any case, Stephen fantasizes about the sex lives of the couple in a mixture of Elizabethan underworld cant and Romany (the language Appendix A 187 of the Gypsies; 3.370–88). Stephen’s “[m]orose delectation” (erotic fantasy) may be prompted by his recall of a fantastic, “oriental” dream he has had more than once (3.365–69). The erotic mood continues as Stephen becomes inspired and writes a poem about a vampire’s kiss (3.397–407), lies back on a rock and daydreams about women (3.424–36), thinks about Mulligan in homosexual terms (3.451; “Wilde’s love that dare not speak its name”), and then possibly mas- turbates or possibly urinates in the water that flows from “Cock lake” (3.453–60). The chapter ends with a fantasy of the drowned man rising to the surface (3.470–83), which leads, in turn, to a preoccupa- tion with the body: Stephen is thirsty, he feels his rotten teeth, and he picks his nose (3.485, 495, 500). Suddenly self-conscious, he feels someone is looking at him, turns around, and sees a “threemaster” riding the incoming tide upstream toward the mouth of the Liffey and into Dublin (3.502–5). 4. “Calypso.” The clock has been set back to 8:00 a.m. and the scene shifted to No. 7 Eccles Street in the northwest quadrant of Dublin. Leopold Bloom is up and about before his wife Molly, pre- paring her breakfast of tea, bread, and butter (4.11). He decides on a pork kidney for his own breakfast and steps out to the butcher to get one (4.46). There he picks up a Zionist leaflet soliciting pledges for a projected colony in Palestine called Agendath Netaim (4.191– 92; Hebrew: “company of planters”). He returns home and picks up the mail that has been delivered in his brief absence: a letter for him, a card for Molly from their daughter Milly at Mullingar, and a letter for “Mrs. Marion Bloom” from Hugh (Blazes) Boylan (4.245, 250, 312). Bloom brings Molly her breakfast; they discuss, briefly, Mol- ly’s upcoming singing tour and a funeral for Paddy Dignam, one of Bloom’s acquaintances (4.312–15), but the central topic is the mean- ing of the word metempsychosiss that Molly has come across in Ruby: The Pride of the Ringg (4.331–77). Bloom runs down to the kitchen to tend to his kidney when Molly smells it burning; he eats it and reads the letter from Milly, which leads to melancholy thoughts of how use- less it is to try to prevent Milly’s loss of virginity and Molly’s adultery (4.447–49). He then goes to the outhouse and reads a newspaper story called “Matcham’s Masterstroke” as he relieves himself (4.502– 17). The bells of St. George’s church chime at 8:45 as the chapter ends with Bloom’s “Poor Dignam” (4.549, 551). 5. “Lotus Eaters.” The time is 10:00 a.m. or so as Bloom walks along the Liffey and heads for Westland Row Post Office, where he presents his fake “Henry Flower” calling card and receives a letter from his epistolary mistress Martha Clifford (5.60–61). When he 188 Appendix A leaves the post office, he runs into C. P. M’Coy, who works in the coroner’s office and is headed to Sandycove with regard to the drown- ing case. They discuss Paddy Dignam’s death and Molly’s upcoming concert tour, but the voyeuristic Bloom is distracted by the sight of an attractive woman (5.82–152). The newspaper ad for Plumtree’s Potted Meat and the allusion to “Love’s Old Sweet Song,” along with M’Coy’s “up” joke, reflect the Blooms’ marital difficulties (5.144– 47, 153, 157–61). M’Coy asks Bloom to put down his name in the registry at the Dignam funeral (5.170–71). He leaves, and Bloom is free to read his letter from Martha (5.241–59). He then sits in on a morning mass at All Hallows Church and thinks about the myster- ies of religion in Bloomian terms (5.322–449). Next, he goes to the chemist Sweeney to have lotion made up for Molly, which he will pick up later. He also buys some soap for his upcoming bath (5.472–516). When he leaves the chemist’s, he runs into the horseplayer Bantam Lyons and gives him an unwitting tip on Throwaway, a long shot in the Gold Cup Race (5.519–41). Bloom then walks toward the baths where he plans to masturbate over Martha’s letter, and the chapter ends with Bloom’s vision of his own body in the bath, with his limp and ironically named penis (“father of thousands”) floating in the water (5.567–72). 6. “Hades.” The time is 11:00 a.m. Bloom is in a carriage at Sandy- mount outside the Dignam home beginning the journey to Glasnevin cemetery. He rides with Martin Cunningham, Mr. Power, and Simon Dedalus (6.1–5). Bloom sees Stephen on his way to Sandymount Strand, and Simon rails against Mulligan (6.39–40, 63–68). The occa- sion of the funeral leads Bloom to think about his dead son Rudy, who died when he was 11 days old (6.83–84) and of his father, Rudolph Virag, who committed suicide (6.125–28, 359–64). Later, Bloom reflects that unhealthy babies come “from the man” (6.229). Bloom thinks of Boylan, and, coincidentally, the man himself is seen walking along the street. This prompts Bloom to “review” his fingernails and causes his carriagemates to ask about the concert tour (6.190–224). Reuben J. Dodd, a moneylender, is seen, whereupon Bloom tries to tell an amusing story about Dodd’s behavior when his son was res- cued from drowning (6.250–91). The party arrives at the cemetery to attend the funeral service given by Father Coffey (6.581–631). At the burial, a mysterious man in a mackintosh shows up; nobody knows who he is, and he seems to disappear as quickly as he appeared. Joe Hynes, reporting on the funeral for the newspaper, confuses Bloom’s responses to Hynes’s inquiry about the man’s identity and writes his name down as “M’Intosh” in his list of mourners (6.891–96). The Appendix A 189 chapter ends with a brief exchange between Bloom and John Henry Menton, one of Molly’s suitors from years ago whom Bloom beat at the game of bowls (6.701). Bloom points out a dinge in Menton’s hat and Menton snubs him (6.1018, 1026). 7. “Aeolus.” The “action” of “Aeolus,” set mainly in the offices of the Freeman’s Journall and the Evening Telegraph, consists almost exclusively of oratorical reminiscences of Ireland’s former glory (see John F. Taylor’s speech on the language question: 7.828–69) or its present picturesque beauty (see Dan Dawson’s speech: 7.243 and pas- sim). Bloom is distinguished as being one of the few characters who is actively going about his business, trying to place an advertisement in both the Journall and the Telegraphh for Alexander Keyes’s estab- lishment (7.25–27). The ad for the “tea, wine, and spirit merchant” is to contain an “innuendo of home rule” by alluding to the House of Keys, the parliament of the Isle of Man (7.143, 150). He phones Keyes, is told he is at Dillon’s auction house (7.412, 431), and rushes out of the office (7.436). A few minutes after Bloom leaves, Stephen enters to deliver Deasy’s letter to Myles Crawford, the somewhat addled editor of the Freeman’s Journal (7.506, 516–20) who urges Stephen to join “the pressgang” (7.625). Crawford is in the middle of an indecipherable account of the way Ignatius Gallaher reported the Phoenix Park murders (using an advertisement as a code for the relevant events) when Bloom phones in regarding the Keyes adver- tisement, whereupon the editor refuses to speak with him (7.671–72). After Professor MacHugh delivers Taylor’s oration, Stephen suggests a pub visit and the group of pressmen and hangers-on agree. On the way, he tells the story of The Parable of the Plumss about two “elderly and pious” (7.923) women who climb to the top of Nelson’s Pillar. Bloom arrives just as Crawford is leaving to let the editor know the progress of his negotiations with Keyes for the ad (he succeeds in get- ting Keyes’s approval for a two-month run), but the editor rebuffs him (7.971–94) and goes off to join the drinking party in time to hear Stephen finish his “parable.” 8. “Lestrygonians.” Bloom is given a “throwaway” advertising an appearance of the American evangelist “Dr. John Alexander Dowie,” who claims to be some kind of Elijah figure (8.6, 13–14). The throw- away, subsequently thrown away by Bloom (8.57–58), may relate to a reading of Bloom as an ironic Christ figure (“savior” of Ste- phen) and as an ironic Elijah, prophet of throwaways (see the incident with Bantam Lyons in “Lotus Eaters”). Bloom has several prophetic thoughts in this chapter, thinking of Parnell’s brother, AE (George Russell), and Boylan right before he sees them (8.502–3, 525, 1168). 190 Appendix A

His eye is out for ads, as always, and when he thinks of an ad for Dr. Hy Franks, “that quack doctor for the clap” (8.96–98), he panics momentarily over the thought that Boylan might have venereal dis- ease (8.102–7). It is after one o’clock (8.109), and this is one of many thoughts of the four o’clock meeting he tries not to think about. Bloom runs into Mrs. Breen, whose husband Dennis, like Bloom, is the victim of potency jokes: “U.P.: up” (8.200–308). Bloom asks about “Mrs. Beaufoy” (8.276), meaning Mrs. Purefoy, who is in labor at the maternity hospital (8.276–92). Bloom thinks “[c]ould never like it again after Rudy” (8.610) and begins to realize how hungry he is for love (8.637–39). He opens the door of Burton’s restau- rant and feels revulsion at the sight of men shoving food down their gullets (8.650–702). So he goes to Davy Byrne’s pub for a glass of burgundy and a gorgonzola sandwich, where he has to endure more “up” jokes from Nosey Flynn (8.732–788). Bloom thinks: “Hands moving. Two. Not yet” (8.791), and this image of moving hands, of twoness and oneness, is explored in Bloom’s seedcake memory (8.897–916). When Bloom goes to the urinal, Davy Byrne and Nosey Flynn say kind things about his decency and temperance (8.976–85). Bantam Lyons enters the pub with Paddy Leonard and Tom Roch- ford and reveals that Bloom has given him a tip on the Gold Cup race (8.1023). Bloom leaves the pub and helps a “blind stripling” cross the street, foreshadowing his meeting with the lean, nearsighted Stephen (8.1075–1105). At the end of the chapter, Bloom spots Boylan and gets flustered (8.1168). He ducks into the museum gate, where he wants to go anyway to determine if goddesses have anuses (8.930–31) and also to visit the adjoining library to trace the design and copy the language for the Keyes ad from another newspaper. 9. “Scylla and Charybdis.” Like “Aeolus,” this chapter is mostly talk; there is little action to summarize. Stephen has gone to the library to ask the Irish poet George Russell, known as AE, to get Deasy’s letter into The Irish Homestead, the paper he edits (9.326). Stephen also uses the occasion to “audition” his Shakespeare theory for John Eglinton, editor of the new literary journal Dana. Stephen has some credibility as an author, since he has already published a review of Lady Gregory’s work (9.1158–62). The performance of the theory is inter- rupted at various points—by AE’s departure, Mulligan’s arrival, and Bloom’s arrival (the librarian Lyster helps him find the Kilkenny Peo- ple). Eglinton ends up rejecting Stephen and accepting Mulligan, who gets invited to a literary soiree at the home of George Moore (perhaps the best known Irish writer in 1904; 9.1098–99). The chapter ends Appendix A 191 with Stephen accepting defeat (“cease to strive” [9.1221]) as he goes off with Mulligan to “[s]will till eleven” (9.1102, 1106). 10. “Wandering Rocks.” (Section 1) The very reverend John Con- mee, SJ, makes his way toward Artane in northeast Dublin at the request of Martin Cunningham to try to get one of Paddy Dignam’s children into the Institute for Destitute Children near there. (Section 2) Corny Kelleher, the undertaker’s assistant, is evidently a police spy also; here, he and Constable 57C pass the time of day. (Section 3) A one-legged sailor begs a coin from Molly Bloom, who is practicing her scales. (Section 4) Katey and Boody Dedalus (Stephen’s young sisters) talk finances at home (after an unsuccessful attempt to pawn Stephen’s schoolbooks at Mrs. M’Guinness’s) and eat pea soup. (Sec- tion 5) Blazes Boylan orders a basket of fruit to be delivered by tram to Molly; he also flirts with the shopgirl and asks to telephone his office. (Section 6) At Trinity College’s gates, Stephen’s Italian teacher and singing master Almidano Artifoni tells Stephen, in Italian, “your voice [. . .] would be a source of income [. . .] but instead, you are sacrificing yourself” (G, 266). (Section 7) Miss Dunne, Boylan’s sec- retary, takes the call placed from the fruitseller (see section 5); she tells him that Lenehan will meet him at 4:00 p.m. at the Ormond Hotel. (Section 8) Ned Lambert, who works at the seed and grain store at the site of Mary’s Abbey (the oldest religious establishment in Dublin, dating from the tenth century), is joined by J. J. O’Molloy as he shows the historic spot to the Reverend Hugh C. Love, who is writing a book about the Fitzgeralds, Anglo-Irish lords from the fiff- teenth century. (Section 9) Nosey Flynn, M’Coy, and Lenehan admire a machine for displaying the sequence of vaudeville turns in a variety show devised by Tom Rochford. Lenehan and M’Coy leave, mention- ing Rochford’s daring sewer rescue, and see Bloom at the bookstall, which prompts Lenehan to recount a carriage ride with Molly. (Sec- tion 10) Bloom, at the bookstall, buys Sweets of Sinn for Molly. (Section 11) Dilly (another of Stephen’s sisters) and Simon Dedalus converse at Dillon’s auction rooms where the family’s lace curtains are for sale. (Section 12) Mr. Tom Kernan, tea merchant and Ulsterman, has just booked a large order and stops off in a bar for a shot of gin (a British drink); he thinks about the brutal execution of Robert Emmet (who tried to enlist Napoleon’s assistance in an Irish rebellion) and just misses the vice-regent’s carriage. (Section 13) Stephen Dedalus passes by a jeweler and a clockmaker and winds up at the same book ven- dor where Bloom shopped earlier; he runs into Dilly, who has gotten money from Simon (see section 11) and spends it on a French primer; Stephen feels guilt and self-pity over the fate of his family. (Section 192 Appendix A

14) Simon Dedalus and Bob Cowley, the lapsed priest, discuss the problem of the moneylender Reuben J. Dodd and subsheriff Long John Fanning, but Ben Dollard explains that Cowley’s landlord (the Reverend Hugh C. Love of section 8) has a prior claim on the funds demanded by Dodd’s writ served by Fanning. (Section 15) Martin Cunningham is soliciting contributions to aid the Dignam children. (Section 16) Buck Mulligan and Haines have a mélangee (a dish of fruit and cream) at the DBC (Dublin Biscuit Company) and discuss Stephen’s limitations. (Section 17) The somewhat imbalanced Dublin eccentric by the name of Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tis- dale Farrell runs into (literally) the blind stripling. (Section 18) Young Master Dignam thinks of prizefighters and his dead father. (Section 19) The vice-regent’s cavalcade winds through Dublin and is greeted by virtually all the Dubliners in the chapter. 11. “Sirens.” Miss Douce and Miss Kennedy, barmaids at the Ormond Hotel, gossip with each other and scold an impertinent bus- boy (11.98–99). Simon Dedalus and Lenehan enter the bar (11.191, 228) as Bloom goes into Daly’s stationery to buy writing paper for a letter to Martha Clifford (11.295–96). Bloom sees Boylan in his jingle (carriage) heading for the Ormond Hotel (where he is to meet Lenehan in regard to the Gold Cup race) and decides to follow him (11.305). Bloom enters the hotel after Boylan and sits with Richie Goulding in the dining room adjoining the bar (11.357–58). Boylan has a quick drink and, realizing the time (the clock in the form of Miss Douce’s garter strikes four [11.413]), bolts out of the bar followed by Lenehan (11.432). Ben Dollard and Father Bob Cowley enter the Ormond as Lenehan and Boylan leave (11.433–37). These two join Simon Dedalus at the piano for anecdotes and songs while Bloom lunches on liver and bacon and Richie Goulding on steak and kidney pie (11.435–523). Dollard sings “Love and War” (11.553) and Simon Dedalus offers an English version of the aria “M’appari” from Martha: Or the Fair at Richmond, the popular nineteenth-century opera by the German composer Friedrich von Flotow (1812–83). After listening to the song, Bloom asks the waiter Pat for a pen and ink so he can write his note to Martha Clifford (11.822). Ben Dollard sings “The Croppy Boy” (11.991), a ballad about the Irish rebellion of 1898 (a “croppy” was an Irish rebel with his hair cropped in distinctive fash- ion); in the song, a young Irish rebel confesses his sins and his politics to a British officer disguised as a priest, who then sends the boy to his death as a traitor. A line from the song—“Last of his name and race” (11.1064–65)—prompts Bloom to think about Rudy (11.1066–69). Bloom leaves before the song ends (11.1122), feeling flatulent, he Appendix A 193 thinks, from the burgundy he had earlier (11.1268). Meanwhile, the blind stripling returns for his forgotten tuning fork (11.1274). Bloom runs into “the whore of the lane” outside the hotel, a woman with whom he seems to have had some dealings in the past (11.1250–51). He avoids her gaze by looking into the window of Lionel Marks’s antique shop, where a picture of the late eighteenth-century Irish nationalist Robert Emmet is displayed, along with his famous last words. As Bloom reads Emmet’s words, a tram passes by and he takes advantage of the noise to cover the sound of his fart (11.1293). 12. “Cyclops.” An unnamed first-person narrator whose latest job is bill collector runs into Joe Hynes and the two of them decide to drop in on a well-known Irish nationalist (known here simply as “the citizen”) at his “headquarters,” Barney Kiernan’s pub (12.1–58). Joe buys pints for the citizen and the narrator, mentioning that “the pru- dent member”—that is, Bloom—reminded him of payday (12.211). Alf Bergan pops into the bar laughing at Dennis Breen (still upset over the “U.P.: up” postcard; 12.257–59). Bob Doran, passed out at the bar, wakes up (12.273). Bergan thinks he has just seen Paddy Dig- nam and is “flabbergasted” to learn that he is dead (12.337). Bloom has been pacing outside the bar waiting for Martin Cunningham and finally enters (12.410) as Joe reads one of the “[h]angmen’s letters” (12.304) Alf Bergan has discovered (12.414–31). Bloom refuses the offer of a drink, taking a cigar instead (12.437), and then offers his “scientific” view on the phenomenon of erections subsequent to execution by hanging (12.464–65). Bloom’s contributions do not sit well with the chauvinistic, xenophobic, anti-Semitic citizen, who does not “grasp [Bloom’s] point” (whatever it is) and cries “Sinn Fein!” in his face (12.523). When Bloom refuses a second round of drinks, he explains that he is not in the pub to drink but to meet Cunningham to discuss the widow Dignam’s financial difficulties. Bloom makes a telling slip of the tongue in his attempt to explain things, calling “the wife’s advisers” “[t]he wife’s admirers” (12.769, 767). As the discus- sion proceeds, Bloom appears more and more the outsider and, at one point, tries to turn the conversation toward tennis when everyone else is talking boxing (12.952–53). Since Blazes Boylan has evidently won some money on the boxing match, his name comes up as “an excel- lent man to organise” Molly’s concert tour (12.994–95). Lenehan and John Wyse Nolan enter the bar, whereupon the news is made known that the long-shot Throwaway has won the Gold Cup race at 20-to-1 odds (12.1219). Amid all the talk of militant nationalism, Bloom, along with J. J. O’Molloy, urges a pacifist, tolerant, interna- tionalist perspective as an antidote to “[f]orce, hatred, history, all that” 194 Appendix A

(12.1481). Bloom speaks of “[l]ove” as “the opposite of hatred” and then leaves the bar briefly to see if Cunningham is at the courthouse nearby (12.1485–86). In Bloom’s absence, Lenehan mentions a con- versation with Bantam Lyons, who told Lenehan that “Bloom gave him the tip” to bet on Throwaway: thus everyone now believes “[t]he courthouse is a blind” and Bloom has really left “to gather in the shekels” (12.1554–55, 1550–51). This new “information” intensifies the bad feeling between the citizen and Bloom on his return, partly because, as the narrator thinks, he goes off “without putting up a pint of stuff like a man” (12.1663). The tension between the citizen and Bloom escalates to a shouting match, as Bloom informs the citizen, “Christ was a jew like me” (12.1808–9). As Bloom rides off in the carriage with Cunningham and the other delegates to the widow Dig- nam, the citizen heaves a tin biscuit box after him and sics “the bloody mongrel” Garryowen on him as well (12.1853, 1905–7). 13. “Nausikaa.” The time is 8:00 p.m. Bloom has just come from the widow Dignam’s house where, with other good citizens, he has been discussing with her the problems involved with her deceased husband’s life insurance. He is at Sandymount Strand, where Stephen walked earlier in the day. Also at the beach are Gerty MacDowell and her friends Cissy Caffrey and Edy Boardman, who are tending Cissy’s twin brothers, Tommy and Jacky, and little Baby Boardman (Edy’s brother). Jacky and Tommy get into a dispute over the sandcastle they have built, which resembles the “Martello tower” (13.44–48), suggesting the earlier dispute between Stephen and Mulligan. Gerty daydreams about beauty products (e.g., “queen of ointments,” “eye- browleine,” etc. [13.90, 110]) and marriage to one Reggy Wylie (13.196), whom Gerty hardly knows but who is “always riding up and down [on his bicycle] in front of her window” (13.130). One of the twins kicks a ball toward Bloom, whereupon he tries to throw it back but the ball rolls toward Gerty, who lifts her skirt to kick it toward the boys (13.360–64). Gerty and Bloom exchange a meaningful look (13.411–12). Gerty begins to swing her foot in time to the church music at the men’s temperance retreat at the nearby Catholic church, Mary, star of the sea (13.548–49). Bloom evidently begins to mastur- bate about this time, since he must “take his hand out of his pocket” (13.537–38) when Cissy comes over to him to ask the time (13.535). A fireworks display (13.682) at the Mirus bazaar (“in search of funds for Mercer’s hospital” [13.1166]) draws the attention of everyone, including Gerty, who leans “back far to look up” revealing “all her beautiful gracefully shaped legs” (13.695–96, 698). When Bloom and Gerty complete their (simultaneous?) orgasms, Gerty rises to leave Appendix A 195 and Bloom notices that she is lame (13.771), whereupon the style of the chapter “detumesces” to Bloom’s interior monologue. He notices that his watch has stopped “at half past four” (13.847), the time, he thinks, when Molly and Boylan coupled: “O, he did. Into her. She did. Done” (13.849). Nonetheless, Bloom evidently thinks it prudent to delay his return: “Must call to the hospital” (13.959–60; see also 13.1212–13). Among Bloom’s many idle thoughts on the strand is his recollection of a dream he had: “Wait. Something confused. She had red slippers on. Turkish. Wore the breeches” (13.1240–41; cf. Stephen’s dream earlier: “Wait. Open hallway. Street of harlots,” etc. [3.3655fff]). At the end of the chapter, Bloom begins to write a mes- sage to Gerty in the sand—“I AM A” (13.1258, 1264)—but does not complete it and takes a quick nap instead. At chapter’s end, a cuckoo clock in the house of the priest affiliated with Mary, star of the sea, sounds the time: 9:00 p.m. (13.12899fff). 14. “Oxen of the Sun.” A: Style. The action of “Oxen of the Sun” cannot be understood without reference to style. In this chapter, Joyce takes human gestation as a metaphor for the development of the English language, which “generates” from the union of the “ovum” of Latin and the “sperm” of Anglo-Saxon or Old English. The chapter begins with an invocation to language and fertility in which lan- guage itself is little more than a gleam in the author’s eye (14.1–6). This brief section is followed by three paragraphs of highly Latinate English (both diction and syntax are modeled on Latin): these three paragraphs form the Latin “ovum” (14.7–59). The next paragraph (“Before born babe bliss had” [14.50]) begins the “gestation” of the English language over nine stylistic “months” organized into forty paragraphs paralleling the forty weeks of fetal development; counting from “Before born babe bliss had” as the first of these paragraphs, the fortieth paragraph ends with the word “delivered” (14.1309), and in fact, the delivery of Mrs. Purefoy’s baby is announced in the first sentence of the following paragraph (14.1310–11). The succeed- ing paragraphs in the styles of nineteenth-century writers (in order: Dickens, Newman, Pater, and Ruskin) lead to the “afterbirth” sec- tion that begins with “All off for a buster” (14.1440). Then follows a mixture of what Joyce called “a frightful jumble of Pidgin English, nigger English, Cockney, Irish, Bowery slang and broken doggerel” (SL, 252). The stylistic scheme is certainly interesting for its own sake, but it is important to keep in mind that style here “influences” action. In other words, the narrator’s attitude toward the action draws on the sociohistorical conditions of the period in which an individual style flourished rather than the period when the present action is set 196 Appendix A

(June 16, 1904). For example, the medieval style of the early part of the chapter produces a narrator who regards a tin of sardines as a great mystery: “And there was a vat of silver that was moved by craft to open in the which lay strange fishes withouten heads” (14.149– 51). Likewise, when the narrator ventriloquizes the moralistic voice of Thomas Carlyle near the end of the chapter, the righteous indignation that sounds through (“Copulation without population! No, say I!” [4.1422]) is a product of the ethical view that accompanies the voice of Carlyle and not the ethical view of the author Joyce or the character Bloom (or any other character). B: Summary. The opening invocation of three groups of three sen- tences or phrases, each repeated three times, obviously suggests the division of the nine-month period of gestation divided into three tri- mesters. The mix of Gaelic (“Deshil”), Latin (“Eamus”), and the place name “Holles” (for Holles Street, where the maternity hospital is located) can be roughly translated as “Let us go [Eamus] to Holles Street [Holles], turning toward the sun [Deshil]” (G, 408). The next set of sentences is fairly clear as a prayer to the sun-god of fertility, with “Horhorn” suggesting not only whores and hornyness but also Dr. Andrew J. Horne, practitioner at the maternity hospital. The last set of phrases is said to be a traditional expression used by a midwife on the birth of a male child (14.1–6). The next three highly Latinate paragraphs form the “unfertilized ovum” of the English language. The sense of the first of these paragraphs is that masturbation (“an inverecund habit” [14.25]) is incompatible with the political strategy of nation building and the need for population growth (14.7–32); the next two praise the ancient Celts for their interest in medicine and their attention to the needs of expectant mothers (14.33–59). ¶1: The next paragraph (¶1, or the first paragraph of gestation) represents the union of Latin “ovum” and Anglo-Saxon “sperm” (it is, perhaps, an ironic violation of fertility that the point of union is represented by a colon); both halves of this paragraph say essentially the same thing: that nothing is omitted in the care of the mother and the preparation for the birth of the child (14.60–70). ¶2: Bloom shows up at the door of the hospital (14.71–73). ¶3: Dr. Andrew Horne is on duty, assisted by two nurses, whose names are later revealed to be Callan and Quig- ley (14.74–79). ¶4: Nurse Callan lets Bloom in and crosses herself as lightning flashes in the western sky (14.80–85). ¶5: Bloom takes his hat off and remembers that nine years before, when he and Molly were living near the hospital on Holles Street, he had failed to doff his hat at the nurse when she greeted him, so now is an occasion to make up for that earlier impoliteness (14.86–92). ¶6: The nurse notices that Appendix A 197

Bloom is dressed in black and inquires about the occasion of his mourning. Assuring her that his mourning clothes bespeak no serious personal loss, Bloom asks about a Dr. O’Hare, who once worked at the hospital, and learns that the man died almost three years ago from stomach cancer (14.93–106). ¶7: The narrator comments that mor- tality is the common lot of all humanity (14.107–10). ¶8: Bloom inquires about Mrs. Purefoy’s labor and is told that she has been in labor for three days and has not delivered. Bloom also wonders why the nurse, who seems to him attractive, has not married and had chil- dren in the nine years since he last saw her (14.111–22). ¶9: Bloom is ushered into a kind of waiting room where he meets an intern named Dixon, who treated Bloom recently for a bee sting. Dixon asks Bloom to join a group of young men who are carousing (evidently as they wait for Dixon’s shift to end) in an adjoining room and Bloom at first refuses, but then consents. (14.123–40). ¶10: Bloom enters the room and notices an open tin of sardines and some bread on a table, together with beer or ale (14.141–59). ¶11: Dixon pours Bloom a drink, but he only takes a sip and, when no one is looking, pours most of the drink into someone else’s glass (14.160–66). ¶12: Bloom hears some- one cry out but cannot tell if the voice is that of mother or child. He makes a comment about how long and painful the birth is, where- upon Lenehan pronounces one of his stock witticisms and then toasts Bloom, who returns the toast (14.167–86). ¶13: The narrator names the group of drunken revelers. In addition to Bloom, Lenehan, and Dixon, the group includes Stephen’s friend Lynch and Lynch’s fellow medical students Madden and Costello, plus a Scotsman named Crot- thers, and of course, Stephen, who is drunker than anyone. The group is waiting for Mulligan to join them. Bloom notices Stephen, and the implication is that Bloom means to look after Stephen partly because of his friendship with Simon Dedalus (14.187–201). ¶14: The group is in the middle of a discussion regarding the medical choice to be made in cases of difficult births that threaten the life of mother and child, when saving one entails the sacrifice of the other. The group favors the option of saving the mother over the child, but Stephen uses Catholic doctrine to argue otherwise (the Church stipulates that the life of the child is to be valued over that of the mother). When asked his opinion, Bloom gives an evasive answer, stating that the Church profits in either event, since it requires both “birth and death pence”—that is, traditional donations to cover the cost of baptisms and funerals. Stephen is especially amused by Bloom’s reply (14.202– 63). ¶15: Bloom thinks of the death of Rudy and the poignant details of his burial, with Molly insisting that the infant be swaddled in lamb’s 198 Appendix A wool because of the cold. He also looks on Stephen with regret because the self-destructive young man is wasting his talent (14.264– 76). ¶16: Continuing the general drift of discussion concerning the preference of the child over the mother, Stephen makes a theological argument that the “second Eve”—that is, the Virgin Mary—reverses the condition of original sin caused by the first Eve through the virgin birth. Further, if Son and Father are consubstantial, then Mary is the daughter of her Son, but in no case does she experience “subsubstantiality”—that is, sex in the missionary position, under a man. Rejecting this sexless theology, Stephen affirms the sexual “will” or male sex drive (14.277–312). ¶17: Punch Costello bangs on the table and starts to sing, whereupon Nurse Quigley enters and asks the revelers to keep quiet; Bloom assures her that the group will settle down (14.313–34). ¶18: Dixon jokes with Stephen, asking him why he chose not to become a priest. Stephen replies that he could never maintain obedience to the required vows of poverty and chastity. Lenehan makes a joke about Stephen’s sexual corruption of a minor female, and the general discussion tends toward strange marriage rites and odd sexual arrangements, including the story that the dramatists Beaumont and Fletcher, contemporaries of Shakespeare, shared a woman. Stephen also refers to (or at least thinks about) the situation at the tower and uses Ann Hathaway’s betrayal of Shakespeare as a metaphor for his relationship with Mulligan. He also repeats some of the philosophical and aesthetic formulations he has made earlier in the day (14.335–400). ¶19: Punch Costello starts to sing again, this time calling Stephen’s philosophizing “Étienne chanson”” (Stephen’s song) and associating Stephen’s last name, Dedalus, with a line from a song, “dedal Jack” (14.401–7). ¶20: A thunderclap sounds and frightens Stephen; Bloom assures him that the sound is merely a harmless “nat- ural phenomenon” (14.407–28). ¶21: The narrator comments on Stephen’s embittered condition and the lack of discipline that has led him to a life of carnal indulgence (14.429–54). ¶22: The narrator chastises the group for their promiscuity and their use of condoms to prevent generation, contrary to God’s commandment to be fruitful and multiply (14.454–73). ¶23: Rain follows the thunder (as Mrs. Purefoy’s water breaks?), and Mulligan shows up at the hospital with Alec Bannon, whom he has run into on the way from George Moore’s house (14.474–528). ¶24: Lenehan looks for Deasy’s letter about hoof-and-mouth disease in the evening edition of the newspa- per, and after the narrator conveys some information about Lenehan’s past, he and Bloom discuss the problem of Irish cattle and British markets. The conversation shifts, however, into an allegory of Irish Appendix A 199 history in bovine terms, with the bull becoming an image of Catholic and British usurpation of Ireland (cf. “papal bull” and “John Bull”). Stephen says at the end that the women of Ireland were so devoted to the “bull”—that is, the Catholic church—that the men had no choice but to emigrate to America (14.529–650). ¶25: Mulligan and Ban- non enter the room, and Mulligan announces a scheme to offer himself as “fertiliser” of any woman who should desire his services (14.651–712). ¶26: Bannon begins to talk to Crotthers about his new girlfriend Milly Bloom (without knowing that her father is pres- ent), and Mulligan asks Bloom if he requires the services he has just advertised (14.713–37). ¶27: Bannon shows Crotthers a picture of Milly and states that he missed an opportunity for sex with her because he did not have a condom available when the occasion arose. He resolves to get one and try again another day (14.738–98). ¶28: Nurse Callan enters and asks Dixon to attend to Mrs. Purefoy, who has finally “given birth to a bouncing boy” (14.799–844). ¶29: Bloom reflects with distaste on the behavior of the young men, espe- cially Punch Costello’s lecherous remarks about Nurse Callan (14.845–79). ¶30: Bloom says he can’t understand why the group doesn’t “rejoice” at the news that Mrs. Purefoy’s labor is finally over. Instead, they rejoice over her fifty-year-old husband’s ability to “knock another child out of her” (14.880–904). ¶31: The narrator com- ments on Bloom’s lack of qualifications as an apologist for motherhood and the joys of fertility, since he does not satisfy his own wife at home and continues to indulge in masturbation, a habit that is “an oppro- brium [disgrace] in middle life” (14.905–41). ¶32: Dixon returns and announces that the birth is near completion, with only the afterbirth remaining to be expelled. The news prompts discussion of infanticide, birth defects, rape, menopause, perversion, and so on. Mulligan, for example, claims that the “supremest object of desire [is] a nice clean old man” (14.942–1009). ¶33: Mulligan evidently announces that he must leave in time to meet Haines at Westland Row station at 11:10 p.m. (14.1010–37). ¶34: Bloom daydreams about his child- hood, his early career as a commercial traveler, his first sexual experience with the prostitute Bridie Kelly, and his current lack of a male heir (14.1038–77). ¶35: Bloom continues to daydream on the theme of sterility, making unconscious associations with the conversa- tion about him that take the form of fantastic “zodiacal” beasts who, “passing upon the clouds,” eclipse or “murder” the sun (14.1078– 95). ¶36: The daydream continues, with the sterile beasts giving way to an ethereal vision of a young woman, a composite of Martha and Milly. The vision finally resolves itself into “a ruby and triangled sign” 200 Appendix A that is, in reality, the label on a bottle of Bass ale (14.1096–109). ¶37: This paragraph contains the “raw material” for the three preceding paragraphs of Bloom’s daydream, including some talk of Stephen’s childhood, his artistic sterility, and the loss of his mother. When Ste- phen reacts to the mention of his mother’s death, Lenehan changes the subject and talks about the Gold Cup race. Talk of Sceptre the mare leads Vincent Lynch to talk about his adventure with a “filly” earlier in the day (see 10.199–202). When Lenehan reaches for a bot- tle of Bass ale to compensate for the loss sustained as a result of Bass’s mare (i.e., Sceptre), Mulligan stops him and points out that Bloom is lost in thought, staring at the triangular trademark on the bottle. A remark by Mulligan prompts Stephen into a parody of mystical, theo- sophical lore (14.1110–173). ¶38: Bloom notices Lenehan reaching for the bottle of Bass and hands it to him, spilling some in the process. ¶39: The narrator reintroduces the company as if in preparation for a debate; the reference to “the image of that voluptuous loveliness” in regard to Bloom is most likely a reference to Molly, which may explain why Bloom has been so absorbed by the image of a triangle (14.1174– 222). ¶40: Bloom asks how the sex of the infant is determined and also inquires about infant mortality. Various causes are suggested, ranging from Mulligan’s idea that death results from aesthetic deprav- ity to the more serious explanation that some law of probability governs infant mortality. Stephen gives a cynical, “theological” expla- nation, calling God an “omnivorous being” who requires a fresh bit of infant flesh every now and then to clean out a digestive system constipated by “cancrenous females [. . .], corpulent professional gen- tlemen,” and so on. Stephen also states that a woman only gives birth as an inconvenient consequence of sex, “giv[ing . . .] life [. . .] to save her own.” “At the risk of her own” is Bloom’s “telling rejoinder.” This is the fortieth paragraph of linguistic gestation: in it Stephen is called an “embryo philosopher,” and the paragraph ends with the word “delivered” (14.1223–309). In the next paragraph, the birth of the Purefoy baby is announced and celebrated, the child is to be named Mortimer Edward, and the mother and father are congratu- lated (14.1310–43). The narrator returns to the effect of the “chance word” of Bloom’s remark on Stephen (14.1344–55). As the “false calm” on Stephen’s face recedes, Bloom remembers a scene in Round- town at Mat Dillon’s house where he met Molly (identified here as the “darker friend” of Dillon’s daughters) and where he also first met Stephen as “a lad of four or five” (14.1356–78). The attitude of everyone in the room is compared to the watchfulness of the shep- herds at Bethlehem where the divine Christ is manifested in human Appendix A 201 form; this original Epiphany, or revelation of the Word, forms the ironic context for Bloom’s utterance and for Stephen’s reaction (14.1379–90). Stephen cries out the name of a pub—“Burkes!”—and everyone scrambles out just as Dixon appears with the “news of pla- centation ended.” Bloom lags behind to ask Nurse Callan to pass on his congratulations to Mrs. Purefoy; he also asks when the nurse expects to marry and have children (14.1391–406). The narrator con- gratulates Theodore Purefoy on his paternity and urges him to drink the rich mother’s milk of his fertile bride (14.1407–39). The “after- birth” section that runs to the end of the chapter begins here (14.1440). The group arrives at Burke’s at 10:50 p.m. (14.1471) and drinks for ten minutes or so, until “[c]losingtime, gents” (14.1534). When Alec Bannon hears Bloom’s name, he realizes that he is “pho- to’s papli” and makes his exit (14.1535–36). Stephen and Lynch head for the “Bawdyhouse,” with Bloom following (14.1572–75). The chapter ends with a parody of an American evangelist preacher inspired by a poster advertising the new “Elijah,” Alexander J. Dowie (14.1579–91). The parody is evidently spoken by Lynch, but the attribution of stylistic voices to individual characters is becoming increasingly hard to make at this point in the novel. Thus, it may be that the parody of Dowie is “spoken” by the poster itself, a technique fully consistent with the stylistic practice of the “Circe” chapter to fol- low, in which inanimate objects are given dramatic voices. 15. “Circe.” A: General. The following summary is indebted to Stanley Sultan’s in The Argument of “Ulysses”” (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1964, 356–61). I have followed Sultan’s convention of separating naturalistic from fantastic or “hallucinated” action by using brackets. This convention implies a strict separation of the two modes of action that does not always obtain (in one case, curly brack- ets are used to enclose an hallucination of which a character is acutely aware). Also, Sultan attributes certain hallucinations specifically to Bloom and others specifically to Stephen, but this is also a distinction that does not always hold. Such a reading implies a rather strict psy- chological interpretation of the chapter, in which the hallucinations are read as expressionistic projections of the unconscious wishes, fears, anxieties, or guilt of the characters. Some of the hallucinations can be explained in this way—that is, as dramatic exteriorizations of interior states—but many cannot. Often, it seems that the book is hallucinat- ing about itself. B: Summary. Stephen and Lynch enter Nighttown (15.62) and pass by Privates Carr and Compton, two British soldiers who will have a prominent role later in the chapter. Stephen and Lynch are accosted 202 Appendix A by an old bawd pimping for prostitutes (15.81–82). Stephen is in the middle of yet another explanation of aesthetic theory as he leads Lynch to the brothel where Georgina Johnson, his favorite prostitute, works (15.122). Bloom arrives out of breath from running to keep up (he is following Stephen). He buys a pig’s foot and a sheep’s foot from a pork butcher (15.158) and is almost run over by a streetcar (15.190–91). [Bloom encounters a “sinister figure” whom he thinks might be a “Gaelic league spy” (15.212, 220).] Bloom reminds him- self to “[b]eware of pickpockets” (15.245). [Bloom’s parents appear and express disappointment in their son; they are joined by Molly, who also asks for an accounting of her husband’s behavior (15.252– 355).] Bloom is accosted by the same bawd who accosted Stephen and Lynch (15.358–60). [The Baud’s overtures prompt the halluci- nated appearance of three women with whom Bloom has had romantic or erotic involvement in the past: Bridie Kelley, Gerty MacDowell, and Mrs. Breen (15.371–577).] Bloom is accosted by a group of whores and walks past a shebeen (an unlicensed alcohol establish- ment) where a navvy (laborer) and the aforementioned soldiers are haggling over prices (15.600–607). Bloom reviews recent events and decides to feed the feetmeat to the stray dog that has been following him as two policemen—“The Watch”—approach him (15.635–75). [The presence of the police triggers an elaborate guilt fantasy in which Bloom is put on trial for a variety of offenses (15.676–1267).] Bloom hears piano music and infers that a man is playing, most likely Ste- phen; the prostitute Zoe confirms the inference before aggressively soliciting Bloom. She gropes his genitals and mistakes the dried potato he carries as a “talisman” for a syphilitic chancre; she takes the potato and pockets it. When she asks for a cigarette, Bloom condemns smok- ing so strongly that Zoe says, “Go on. Make a stump speech out of it” (15.1278–353). [Zoe’s comment triggers an elaborate wish-fulfillment fantasy in which Bloom does make a stump speech as a candidate for Lord Mayor of Dublin. But the populace turns against him and Bloom is set afire; the immolation makes him “mute, shrunken, carbonized” (15.1354–956).] Reality resumes when Zoe, seemingly commenting on the conclusion of Bloom’s hallucination, says, “Talk away till you’re black in the face” (15.1958). She solicits him again and entices him to enter the brothel. Then she calls him “Babby!” [Bloom briefly appears as an infant, fascinated by the buckles on the prostitute’s dress (15.2003–7).] Bloom and Zoe enter Bella Cohen’s brothel to find Lynch and Stephen, together with one of Zoe’s coworkers, Kitty Ricketts. Stephen is at the pianola using music to explain an aesthetic theory, which Lynch, sometimes identified as “The Cap,” contests Appendix A 203 and ridicules. Another prostitute, Florry Talbot, misunderstands Ste- phen’s phrase “ends of the world” (15.2117) to mean “the end of the world” and talks of the Antichrist. Stephen evidently looks at Bloom as he hears the word “Antichrist.” [The talk of Antichrist triggers a religious hallucination featuring the American evangelist Alexander J. Dowie, who calls himself “Elijah,” but also includes the Celtic “spiri- tuality” of AE (15.2144–278).] Naturalism is reasserted with the sputtering gasjet, which Zoe adjusts. She makes a lewd remark and eyes Bloom, who smiles “desirously” (15.2279–382). [Bloom is scolded by his grandfather Lipoti Virag in another exploration of Bloom’s guilt, evidently interrupted by Stephen’s piano playing (15.2384–493).] Stephen plays the piano but refuses to sing, [his conflicts personified as Philip Sober and Philip Drunk]. Zoe and Lynch discuss a priest who came to the brothel for sex, [which prompts commentary from Virag]. Lynch also shows off his esoteric medical knowledge, [eliciting further comments from Virag. Virag makes a remark about the Virgin being impregnated through the ear (“Mes- siah! He burst her tympanum” [15.2601–2]), which calls forth a hallucinated version of Ben Dollard, based on a comment that Simon Dedalus made in “Sirens”: “Sure, you’d burst the tympanum of her ear, man, [. . .] with an organ like yours” (11.536–37). Henry Flower also puts in an appearance before he, along with Virag and the other hallucinated characters “Exeunt severally” (15.2494–639)]. Florry says Stephen must be a priest or a monk, whereupon Lynch and Ste- phen joke about Stephen’s ecclesiastical sensibility (15.2640–53). [Simon Dedalus appears as a cardinal, “primate of all Ireland” (15.2654–91).] Bloom wonders if a man on the doorstep might be Boylan, [but in the guise of Svengali he conjures him away (15.2697– 729)]. Zoe offers Bloom chocolate, which he takes to be an aphrodisiac. Zoe’s offer is really a command—“Do as you’re bid! Here!” (15.2733). Zoe’s imperious nature and Bloom’s submissive- ness form a prelude to one of the more important hallucinations in the chapter, as the madam of the brothel, Bella Cohen, enters, fanning herself: “My word! I’m all of a mucksweat” (15.2750). [Bella becomes a dominatrix whose name is transformed to the masculine “Bello.” A feminized Bloom happily submits to Bella/o’s domination, as his many “perversions,” such as transvestism and analingus, are thoroughly explored. The fantasy section ends when Bloom smells the “muck- sweat” that began it: “(he sniffs) Rut. Onions. Stale. Sulphur. Grease” (15.2751–3478).] Bloom stands up to Bella in real life and also, per- haps significantly, demands that Zoe return the old potato she took from him as he entered the brothel. Bella demands money (ten 204 Appendix A shillings a girl) and Stephen empties his pockets indifferently. Bloom intervenes to make sure Bella does not receive more than is due for the three prostitutes (Kitty, Florry, and Zoe) who are entertaining the men: “Three times ten. We’re square” (15.3584). Zoe reads Ste- phen’s palm, saying she sees a sign of “courage,” which Stephen disputes, but she insists that she sees the quality “in your face. The eye, like that” (15.3663–64). Zoe has unwittingly alluded to the pan- dybat scene in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, as Lynch confirms when he slaps the prostitute on the behind and says, “Like that. Pandybat” (15.3666). [Father Dolan, the priest who pandied the young Stephen, briefly appears (15.3670)], as Zoe resumes her palm reading and goes on to read Bloom’s palm as well. Her assess- ment that he is “henpecked” [prompts the appearance of Black Liz, the hen (15.3709–10).] Bloom mentions that a weal on his hand is the result of a fall 22 years ago when he was 16. Stephen is struck by the “synchronicity” of Bloom’s accident with his own, since Ste- phen, who is 22, fell and broke his glasses (which resulted in the pandying) 16 years ago (15.3718–21). Bloom begins to write “idly on the table,” as he did in the “Sirens” chapter when Boylan and Lenehan were at the bar, [so this action summons up hallucinated ver- sions of Boylan and Lenehan. Molly also appears and upbraids her husband as a “Pimp” (15.3778), and Bloom watches as Boylan and Molly have orgasmic sex (15.3809–13)]. Naturalistic dialogue is interleaved with hallucinated dialogue, as the prostitutes whisper and point at something that amuses them. [The object of their amusement turns out to be the composite reflection of Stephen and Bloom in a mirror, which also reflects “the reindeer antlered hatrack in the hall” (15.3823), creating the illusion of horns on their head, a symbol of cuckoldry. Stephen’s and Bloom’s faces blend to form “[t]he face of William Shakespeare” (15.3821–22). Shakespeare in the form of a castrated rooster speaks to Bloom and crows the name of Othello’s rival: “Iagogogo!” (15.3829).] Bloom still doesn’t know why people are laughing, and asks when he will “hear the joke.” Zoe replies, “Before you’re twice married and once a widower” (15.3830–33). [The word “widower” summons up Paddy Dignam’s widow. “Shake- speare” also responds to Zoe’s comment, which in turn summons up Martin Cunningham, who is supposed to look like Shakespeare (15.3837–63).] Stephen, meanwhile, alludes to mythological and biblical narratives that involve strange sex, which Bella takes to mean that he is looking for something perverse, services she does not wish to provide: “None of that here. Come to the wrong shop.” Lynch explains that Stephen has just come back from Paris, whereupon the Appendix A 205 prostitutes ask him to speak French. Stephen accommodates the request, speaking a form of “French” that sounds like an overly literal translation of the language into English (15.3864–916). The whores laugh and Bloom approaches Stephen, who recalls his “watermelon” dream (see 3.365–69) and begins to allude to Ovid’s tale of the flight of Daedalus and Icarus, notably the cry of Icarus as he falls into the sea: “Pater!” (15.3936). [The cry of Icarus to his father Daedalus calls up the figure of Simon Dedalus, who asks Stephen if he is “going to win?” (15.3946); that is, is he going to keep up the family name and honor? The notion of winning prompts an hallucination of the Gold Cup Race, with Garrett Deasy as one of the jockeys (15.3942–94).] Privates Carr and Compton, along with Cissy Caffrey, are heard sing- ing “My Girl’s a Yorkshire Girl” from the street, and Zoe, who hails from Yorkshire, begs twopence from Lynch to insert into the pianola so they can all dance to the tune (15.4001–6). Stephen begins to waltz with Zoe (“Yorkshire Girl” is in waltz time), [which triggers the appearance of Professor Maginni, the dancing master, who calls out instructions in French as the pianola plays on (15.4019–150)]. Ste- phen says “Dance of death,” reels around, and “stops dead” (15.4139, 4154). {The emaciated ghost of Stephen’s mother appears, an hallu- cination that seems categorically different from the others in the chapter because the character is conscious of it. Stephen is extremely drunk and dizzy from the dance, so he may be literally hallucinating here. After all, the other characters notice something wrong: “Look! He’s white,” says Florry, and Bloom opens a window to give him air (15.4207–10). In any event, in Stephen’s hallucination his mother calls on him to “Repent!” (15.4212) and such like, whereupon Ste- phen screams “Non serviam!” (15.4228), takes his ashplant, and, thinking he is swinging at his ghostly mother, strikes the chandelier, crying out “Nothung!” (15.4242) as he does so.} Stephen drops the ashplant and bolts from the room, leaving Bloom behind to settle with Bella Cohen over the damage he has caused. Once out on the street, Bloom sees Corny Kelleher arriving in a hackney car. Kelleher has a reputation as a police spy, which is what Bella thinks Bloom might be, or something similar, because his knowledge of her personal affairs makes her think he is working undercover—that’s why she calls him “Incog!” (15.4308). [The “Incog” epithet transforms Bloom into “Incog Haroun Al Raschid.” In this guise, he is followed by prac- tically all the characters in the novel that Bloom has encountered during the day or has merely thought about (15.4323–61).] By the time Bloom catches up to Stephen, he is in the midst of an escalating street altercation with the two British privates and the prostitute called 206 Appendix A

“Cissy Caffrey” (who may or may not be the same “Cissy Caffrey” from the “Nausikaa” chapter). When Stephen “taps his brow” and says, “But in here it is I must kill the priest and the king” (15.4436– 37), he means that he needs to come to terms with the religious and political circumstances of his life. Private Carr, however, hears the remark as a literal threat to King Edward, [who suddenly appears (15.4449–65)]. As Bloom tries to calm the situation, Stephen says things that increase the soldiers’ anger and trigger various nationalistic hallucinations, [such as the figures of Kevin Egan and the citizen, as well as loyalist figures from Ireland’s past (see especially 15.4661– 97)]. Bloom appeals to Lynch to help, but Lynch goes off with the prostitute Kitty: “Exit Judas,” Stephen says (15.4730). Private Carr finally punches Stephen and knocks him out. The two policemen approach and seem on the verge of taking Stephen into custody when Corny Kelleher turns up. The policemen are immediately deferential to Kelleher, and Bloom quickly takes advantage because he knows that Kelleher and Simon Dedalus are friends. Kelleher convinces the policemen to do nothing, so they say good-night while Bloom and Kelleher tell each other stories to explain why they both happen to be in Nighttown. When Kelleher leaves, Bloom bends down over Ste- phen and speaks directly into his ear. Stephen awakens to find the black-clad Bloom in that position (i.e., at his neck), so he says, “Who? Black pather. Vampire” (15.4930). Still lying prostrate on the street, Stephen begins to mutter lines from William Butler Yeats’s poem, “Who Goes with Fergus,” which Bloom interprets (because of a line about a “white breast”) to be remarks about “[s]ome girl” named “Ferguson” (15.4950). As Bloom tends to Stephen, [the apparition of his dead son Rudy appears at the age he would have been had he lived—that is, 11—evidently studying for his bar mitzvah. A “wonder- struck” Bloom “calls inaudibly,” “Rudy!” (15.4962), and the chapter ends with a complicated final image of the boy (15.4963–67).] 16: “Eumaeus.” The time is now 1:00 a.m., Friday, June 17, 1904. The action of “Eumaeus” picks up immediately where it left off in “Circe,” with Bloom looking over the prostrate body of Stephen. Bloom helps Stephen up and dusts him off (16.1–3), and together they make their way toward the cabman’s shelter (16.8). En route, they run into Corley, one of Lenehan’s friends (see “Two Gallants” in Dubliners). Since Corley is “on the rocks,” or out of work, Ste- phen tells him to apply to Deasy’s school in Dalkey where “[t]here’ll be a job tomorrow or next day” (16.155–59). Stephen finds some half-crowns in one of his pockets and loans Corley one (16.191–97). (Corley also mentions that he has seen Bloom in the Bleeding Horse Appendix A 207 pub with Boylan [16.198–99].) When Bloom and Stephen settle in the shelter, Bloom orders Stephen a roll and coffee (16.331–35). Ste- phen makes a comment about names that includes the name Murphy, which draws the attention of the sailor Murphy who, in turn, asks Stephen’s name (16.370). Murphy claims to know Simon Dedalus, but the man turns out to be a circus performer, not Stephen’s father (16.378–413). The sailor makes a number of fantastic claims about his globetrotting life; when he mentions “the invincibles,” Stephen and Bloom “exchanged meaning glances” because of the supposed involvement of Fitzharris the shelter-keeper in the Phoenix Park mur- ders of May 6, 1882. Knowing that Stephen is a poet and a professor, Bloom tries to have an “intellectual” conversation with him about the soul, but the two speak at cross purposes to highly comic effect (16.748–76). One area where the two “agree,” more or less, is on the subject of Irish politics: both are pacifists and internationalist in political orientation (16.1081–140). But since Stephen pays only intermittent attention to Bloom’s remarks, and Bloom cannot under- stand Stephen’s metaphorical formulations, their common interests are hardly known to each other. To “change the subject” (from poli- tics), Bloom reads the account of the Dignam funeral in the paper (16.1246–61). The subject returns to politics when the shelter-keeper talks about Parnell and his involvement with Mrs. O’Shea, whom Bloom supposes to be part Spanish. The supposition leads Bloom to show Stephen a seductive photograph of Molly as “a Spanish type” (16.1425–33). The Parnell-O’Shea affair leads Bloom to think that sometimes “the legitimate husband happened to be a party” to the wife’s adultery (16.1533–34). He also thinks that “liaisonss between still attractive married women [. . .] and younger men” are not so unusual (16.1550–52). Bloom pockets the photo of Molly and invites Stephen to Eccles Street for a cup of cocoa and, possibly, to spend the night (16.1644–47). Since Bloom has “[a]ll kinds of Utopian plans” for Stephen and Molly (e.g., “duets in Italian” [16.1652, 1655]), when the two leave the shelter, the talk centers on music. Stephen sings a few bars of a song about sirens, which suggests that he is aware of Bloom’s intention to pair him with Molly. The chapter ends with Stephen “singing more boldly” and talking to Bloom about “sirens” and “usurpers” (16.1882–83, 1889–91). 17. “Ithaca.” Stephen and Bloom walk to Eccles Street and discuss a variety of topics but are in fundamental disagreement over each other’s main interests, with Stephen dissenting “openly from Bloom’s views on the importance of dietary and civic selfhelp” and Bloom dissenting “tacitly from Stephen’s views on the eternal affirmation of the spirit 208 Appendix A of man in literature” (17.28–30). Once at No. 7 Eccles Street, Bloom climbs over the area railings and enters his house through an unlocked scullery door (17.84–104). Bloom busies himself somehow and reap- pears to Stephen’s view “[a]fter a lapse of four minutes” (17.114). Bloom lets Stephen in and leads him into the kitchen, where the two of them drink a cup of Epp’s cocoa (17.369–70). Their conversation and Bloom’s thoughts touch on details of “name, age, race, creed” (17.403). Stephen also repeats for Bloom The Parable of the Plums told earlier in the day to the pressmen; Bloom thinks the story might serve as a “model pedagogic theme [. . .] for the use of preparatory or junior grade students” (17.639––41, 647–49). Stephen then chants an anti-Semitic ballad about a boy abandoned to the murderous wiles of a “jew’s daughter” and interprets it in a way that suggests his own abandonment by his “schoolfellow” Lynch has resulted in his present situation at Bloom’s “strange habitation” (17.802–37). The reference to a “jew’s daughter” leads Bloom to think of Milly (and of her newly formed attachment to Bannon), whereupon he suggests that Stephen spend the night in the room adjacent to his and Molly’s bedroom (17.931–34). The “prolongation of such an extemporisation” would have the advantage of “vicarious satisfaction” for Bloom and the “disin- tegration of obsession” (presumably, with Boylan) for Molly and would ultimately lead to a union between Stephen and Milly (17.938––44). Stephen declines the offer; Bloom returns the money he has been hold- ing for Stephen and accompanies him outside as he prepares to leave (17.955–59, 1021–39). After an extensive meditation on the universe, Bloom, “with impediment” (i.e., he stutters), suggests something to Stephen concerning Molly, whereupon Stephen suggests mutual mic- turition (17.1180–90). After this, they shake hands (17.1221–23) and Stephen departs to the sound of “the double vibration of a jew’s harp” (17.1242––44). Bloom reenters his house, bangs his head on the rear- ranged furniture, observes the “circumstantial evidence” of Boylan’s and Molly’s activity preliminary to sex, and lights a cone of incense (17.1275–332). Bloom partially undresses (“the process of divesti- ture”) and has a long fantasy about a retirement cottage and the means of financing it (17.1479–753). Next, he unlocks a drawer and examines its contents, which include three letters from Martha Clifford and two erotic postcards (17.1775–823). He examines the contents of another drawer that includes his father’s suicide note (17.1883–886). Bloom’s fantasies before retiring include leaving Molly, but such departure is rendered “undesirable” by “desired desire” (17.2034). When he gets into bed (his head at the foot), he thinks about a succession of “suit- ors” who, in reality, are men who have merely admired Molly, with the Appendix A 209 exception of Molly’s first boyfriend Mulvey and Boylan (17.2133–42). Bloom, in bed and thinking about Molly’s adultery, is envious of the assumed superiority of Boylan’s sexual organ and jealous over Molly’s attraction to Boylan, but he feels a sense of abnegation given his own participation in the event and finally responds with equanimity since the act is perfectly natural and “less reprehensible” than a number of other human foibles (17.2156–94). Next, Bloom leans up, lifts the sheet to reveal Molly’s bottom, looks at it, and then kisses it (17.2237––46). The action awakens Molly, who questions Bloom about his whereabouts. Bloom lies and says he has been to see Leah; he also makes up a story about Stephen that incites Molly’s interest (17.2256–70). With Molly awake, Bloom drifts off to sleep, perhaps muttering to himself the singsong incantation that begins with “Sinbad the Sailor” (17.2322). “Sinbad the Sailor” may refer to an advertisement for the pantomime of that name, since we are told earlier that Bloom “habitually” meditates on “some one sole unique advertisement” right before going to sleep (17.1769–73). 18. “Penelope.” A: Summary. Viewed objectively, the action of this chapter is even more severely limited than the “Proteus” chap- ter, its technical counterpart (see schema: “Proteus” is “monologue: male,” “Penelope” is “monologue: female”). Molly removes the blan- ket because of the heat (18.660) and pulls down the nightgown that has rolled up on her (18.661). A train whistle sounds twice (18.596, 874) and then a third time, farther in the distance; the sound cov- ers the noise of Molly’s fart as she pulls her cheeks apart to let the gas escape “pianissimo” (18.907–8). She feels her period coming on (18.1125), gets out of bed (“O Jamesy”: 18.1128), sits on the chamber pot (18.1136–37), and urinates (18.1141–48). She rises from the chamber pot (18.1195–96), goes to the “press” to get a feminine napkin, ties it on, and then gets back in bed (18.1206–12). St. George’s church bell first strikes 2:45 a.m. (18.1231–32) and then 3:15 (18.1540). Since Bloom had earlier contemplated watching the sunrise (17.1257–58), and since the close of Molly’s monologue echoes Bloom’s romantic overture prior to his proposal—“the sun shines for you” (18.1578)——we can assume that Molly’s final “Yes” (18.1609) is accompanied by the dawn (the sun rose at 3:33 a.m. on June 17, 1904 [G, 3]). B: “Sentences.” Joyce described the “Penelope” chapter in terms of “sentences” that are really long paragraphs, as follows:

The first sentence contains 2500 words. There are eight sentences in the episode. It begins and ends with the female word yes. It turns like 210 Appendix A

the huge earth ball slowly surely and evenly round and round spinning, its four cardinal points being the female breasts, arse, womb and cunt expressed by the words because, bottomm (in all senses bottom button, bottom of the class, bottom of the sea, bottom of his heart), woman, yes. Though probably more obscene than any preceding episode it seems to me to be perfectly sane full amoral fertilisable untrustworthy engaging shrewd limited prudent indifferent Weib. Ich bin derr [sic] Fleisch der stets bejahtt [“woman. I am the flesh that always affirms”]. (SL, 285)

No. 1 (18.1–245). The first sentence shows Molly’s irritation with Bloom’s late arrival and his breakfast request and her jealousy over possible rivals (including Martha Clifford, the maid Mary Driscoll, and Mrs. Breen, née Josie Powell). Molly also expresses exasperation with Bloom’s odd sexual nature (“who is in your mind now,” etc. [18.94]) and his religious skepticism. The negative review of Bloom’s attributes ends with thoughts of “Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband” (18.234–35). No. 2 (18.246–534): The second sentence moves from Bloom’s perversities (e.g., asking Molly to walk in horse dung) to an episode that Bloom does not know about involving the tenor Bartell D’Arcy who kissed Molly after a concert. She thinks of Boylan’s sup- posed wealth and of a possible elopement with him. Molly also recalls an unconsummated (?) affair with a soldier named Gardner who died of fever in the Boer War (1899–1902); Bloom evidently does not know about Gardner (note that the name is not included in the list of “suitors” [17.2132–42]). Molly expresses concern over her physi- cal appearance and the sentence ends with a memory of Mr. Cuffe (Bloom’s former employer in the cattle yards) staring at her breasts when Molly visited him to try to talk him into rehiring her husband. No. 3 (18.535–95): The third sentence (the shortest one) focuses on Molly’s breasts and ends with some details of the sexual episode with Boylan, including the contrast of Boylan’s lovemaking with Bloom’s: “he does it and doesn’t talk” (18.592). Molly is looking forward to another visit from Boylan on the coming Monday. No. 4 (18.596– 747): The fourth sentence draws Molly back into her childhood in Gibraltar and to memories of her girlfriend Hester. The sentence ends with a long meditation on letters and letter writing, including Boylan’s letter, which Molly regards as inadequate (“his wasnt much” [18.735]). No. 5 (18.748–908): The sentence opens with memories of Molly’s first love letter from Mulvey, who also gave her her first kiss (from a man, at least). Mulvey is evidently the first man Molly touched (“I pulled him off into my handkerchief” [18.809–10]). Her fart returns her from the romantic past to the present. No. 6 Appendix A 211

(18.909–1148): The first part of the sentence expresses concern over “those medicals leading [Bloom] astray” (18.926). She imagines a picnic with Bloom and Boylan, which temporarily raises the problem of a “date” for Boylan; the cleaning lady Mrs. Fleming is considered for the part. Much of the sentence is taken up with Milly’s budding sexuality and the concerns caused thereby. No. 7 (18.1149–67): The seventh sentence begins the swing back toward Bloom as Molly recalls the love letters he wrote to her that “had me always at myself 4 or 5 times a day sometimes” (18.1179). She is jealous of Bloom’s erotic attachments and plans to “look at his shirt to see” (evidence of mastur- bation [18.1234–35]), vowing “theyre not going to get my husband” (18.1275). Since Bloom has told her about Stephen, Molly begins to imagine a possible relationship with him as well, which, in fantasy at least, will create a problem with Boylan: “O but then what am I going to do about him though” (18.1366–67). No. 8 (18.1368–1609): By the beginning of the eighth sentence, Boylan is reduced to a “joke” (18.1376) and Bloom’s bizarre plan (“disintegration of obsession, acquisition of correct Italian pronunciation” [17.939]) appears to be working. Molly imagines having sex with Bloom (though not inter- course, exactly) and seems excited by the prospect. The book ends with Molly’s memories of the seedcake episode on the Hill of Howth, and with Bloom’s marriage proposal mingled with the first kiss from Mulvey. A ppendix B

Consolidated Schema

This schema consolidates the two versions that Joyce circulated both prior to and after the publication of Ulysses. Only one copy of the first version survives, known as the Linati schema after Joyce’s friend Carlo Linati, who received it in September 1920. Typescripts of the second version were sent to Sylvia Beach in 1921 for private use, to Stuart Gilbert for publication in James Joyce’s “Ulysses”: A Studyy (1930; New York: Vintage, 1958), and to Herbert Gorman for use in his biography James Joycee (New York: Farrar and Rhine- hart, 1939). A manuscript facsimile of the Linati schema appears in Richard Ellmann’s Ulysses on the Liffeyy (New York: Oxford, 1972), following page 209, along with a transcription and a translation from the Italian following page 187. The three typescripts of the second schema are reproduced in The James Joyce Archive, edited by Michael Groden (New York: Garland, 1978), 12: 168–75. I have used the translation of the Linati schema provided in Ellmann’s book. In the following consolidation, any time information in the Linati schema differs from that in the second schema, the information from the Linati schema is presented first, separated by a slash from infor- mation in the second schema. The word “none” in square brackets means that the schema contains no information. The order of catego- ries in the Linati schema is TITLE; HOUR; COLOR; PERSONS; TECHNIC; SCIENCE, ART; SENSE (SIGNIFICANCE); ORGAN; SYMBOL. In the second schema, the order is TITLE, SCENE, HOUR, ORGAN, ART, COLOR, SYMBOL, TECHNIC, CORRE- SPONDENCES. Hence, the two schema reveal certain categorical differences. The Linati schema has no indication for SCENE, while the later schema do not indicate the SENSE (SIGNIFICANCE) of each chapter. The category PERSONS from the Linati schema appears to have been replaced with the category CORRESPONDENCES 214 Appendix B in the second schema, which indicates the names of the characters who correspond with the Homeric persons named in the Linati schema.

Title Scene Hour1 Color

1. Telemachus The Tower 8–9 / 8 a.m. gold, white / white, gold 2. Nestor The School 9–10 / 10 a.m. chestnut / brown 3. Proteus The Strand 10–11/11 a.m. blue / green 4. Calypso The House 8–9 / 8 a.m. orange 5. Lotus Eaters The Bath 9–10 / 10 a.m. brown / [none] 6. Hades The Graveyard 11–12 / 11 a.m. black-white / white, black 7. Aeolus The Newspaper 12–1 / 12 noon red 8. Lestrygonians The Lunch 1–2 / 1 p.m. bloody / [none] 9. Scylla and The Library 2–3 / 2 p.m. [none] / [none] Charybdis 10. Wandering The Streets 3–4 / 3 p.m. rainbow / [none] Rocks 11. Sirens The Concert Room 4–5 / 4 p.m. coral / [none] 12. Cyclops The Tavern 5–6 / 5 p.m. green / [none] 13. Nausikaa The Rocks 8–9 / 8 p.m. grey / grey, blue 14. Oxen of the The Hospital 10–11 / 10 p.m. white Sun 15. Circe The Brothel 11–12 / 12 violet / [none] midnight 16. Eumaeus The Shelter 12–1 / 1 a.m. [none] / [none] 17. Ithaca The House 1–2 / 2 a.m. starry, milky / [none] 18. Penelope The Bed  / [none] starry, milky then new dawn / [none]

1. In addition to the these times, the Linati schema adds temporal divisions of the day into DAWN prior to chapter 1; MORNING prior to chapter 4; NOON prior to chapter seven; DAY prior to chapter 10, followed by the phrase “Central point—Umbilicus”; DAY (in parentheses) again before chapter 13; and MIDNIGHT before chapter 16, followed by the additional parenthetical information: “Fusion of Bloom and Stephen (Ulysses and Telemachus).” Finally, the words DEEP NIGHT, with an arrow pointing down to “Ulysses (Bloom),” and DAWN, with an arrow pointing to “Telemachus (Stephen),” appear at the very bottom of the page. Appendix B 215

Title Technic

1. Telemachus 3- and 4-person dialogue / Narrative (young) Narration Soliloquy 2. Nestor 2-person dialogue / Catechism (personal) Narration Soliloquy 3. Proteus Soliloquy / Monologue (male) 4. Calypso 2-person dialogue / Narrative (mature) Soliloquy 5. Lotus Eaters Dialogue / Narcissism Soliloquy Prayer 6. Hades Narration / Incubism Dialogues 7. Aeolus Simbouleutike Rhetoric / Enthememic Dikanike Epideictic2 Tropes 8. Lestrygonians Peristaltic prose / Peristaltic 9. Scylla and Charybdis Whirlpools / Dialectic 10. Wandering Rocks Labyrinth moving between two banks / Labyrinth 11. Sirens Fuga per canonem 12. Cyclops Alternating asymmetry / Gigantism 13. Nausikaa Retrogressive progression / Tumescence, Detumescence 14. Oxen of the Sun Prose (Embryo-Fetus-Birth) / Embryonic development 15. Circe Vision animated to bursting point / Hallucination 16. Eumaeus Relaxed prose / Narrative (old) 17. Ithaca Dialogue / Catechism (impersonal) Pacified style Fusion 18. Penelope Monologue / Monologue (female) Resigned style

2. These three Greek terms refer, respectively, to deliberative, forensic, and public oratory. 216 Appendix B

Title Art Organ

1. Telemachus Theology [none] / [none] 2. Nestor History [none] / [none] 3. Proteus Philology [none]3/ [none] 4. Calypso Mythology / Economics The Kidneys / Kidney 5. Lotus Eaters Chemistry / Botany, Skin / Genitals Chemistry 6. Hades [none] / Religion Heart 7. Aeolus Rhetoric Lungs 8. Lestrygonians Architecture Esophagus 9. Scylla and Charybdis Literature Brain 10. Wandering Rocks Mechanics Blood 11. Sirens Music Ear 12. Cyclops Surgery / Politics (1) Muscles / Muscle (2) Bones 13. Nausikaa Painting Eye, Nose 14. Oxen of the Sun Physic / Medicine Matrix / Womb Uterus 15. Circe Dance / Magic Locomotor apparatus / Locomotor apparatus Skeleton 16. Eumaeus [none] / Navigation Nerves 17. Ithaca [none] / Science Juices / Skeleton 18. Penelope [none] Fat / Flesh

3. Neither the Linati schema nor the later versions indicate organs for the first three chapters, but the Linati scheme adds the notation “Telemacho non soffre ancora il corpo” (Telemachus does not yet bear a body). Appendix B 217

Title Symbol

1. Telemachus Hamlet, Ireland, Stephen / Heir 2. Nestor Ulster, Woman, Common Sense / Horse 3. Proteus Word, Tide, Moon, Evolution, Metamorphosis / Tide 4. Calypso Vagina, Exile, Family, Nymph, Israel in bondage / Nymph 5. Lotus Eaters Host, Penis in Bath, Foam, Flower: Drugs: Castration: Oats / Eucharist 6. Hades Cemetery: Sacred Heart: The Past: The Unknown Man: The Unconscious: Heart trouble: Relics: Heartbreak / Caretaker 7. Aeolus Machines: Wind: Fame: Kite: Failed Destinies: Press: Mutability / Editor 8. Lestrygonians Bloody sacrifice: foods: shame / Constables 9. Scylla and Charybdis Hamlet, Shakespeare, Christ, Socrates, London and Stratford Scholasticism and Mysticism, Plato and Aristotle, Youth and Maturity / Stratford, London 10. Wandering Rocks Christ and Caesar: Errors: Homonyms: Synchronizations: Resemblances / Citizens 11. Sirens Promises: Woman: Sounds: Embellishments / Barmaids 12. Cyclops Nation: State: Religion: Gymnastics: Idealism: Exaggeration: Fanaticism: Collectivity / Fenian 13. Nausikaa Onanism: Female: Hypocrisy / Virgin 14. Oxen of the Sun Fecundation, frauds, parthenogenesis / Mothers 15. Circe Zoology: personification: pantheism: magic: poison: antidote: reel / Whore 16. Eumaeus [none] / Sailors 17. Ithaca [none] / Comets 18. Penelope [none] / Earth 218 Appendix B

Title Sense (meaning) Persons Correspondences

1. Telemachus The dispossessed Telemachus Stephen – Telemachus son in struggle – Hamlet : Antinous Buck Mulligan – Antinoos : Mentor Milkwoman – Mentor Pallas The Suitors Penelope (Mother) 2. Nestor The wisdom of the Nestor Deasy – Nestor : old world Telemachus Pisistratus – Sargent : Pisistratus Helen – Mrs. O’Shea Helen 3. Proteus Prima materia Proteus Proteus – Primal (ΠΡΟΤΕΥΣ) Matter Menelaus Kevin Egan – Menelaus Helen Megapenthes – The Cocklepickers Megapenthes Telemachus 4. Calypso The departing Calypso Calypso – The traveler Nymph, Duglacz : (Penelope ‘wife’) The Recall : Zion – Ithaca Ulysses Callidike 5. Lotus Eaters The Seduction of Eurylochus Lotus-eaters the Faith – Cab-horses, Communicants, Polites Soldiers, Eunuchs, Bather, Watchers of Cricket Ulysses Nausikaa (2) (continued) Appendix B 219

Title Sense (meaning) Persons Correspondences

6. Hades Descent to Ulysses Dodder, Grand and Nothing Royal Canals, Liffey – Elpenor The 4 Rivers : Cunningham – Sisyphus : Ajax Father Coffee – Cerberus : Caretaker – Agamemnon Hades : Daniel O’Connell – Hercules : Hercules Dignam – Elpenor : Parnell – Agamemnon Eriphyle Menton – Ajax Sisyphus Orion Laertes, etc. Prometheus Cerberus Teiresias Hades Proserpina Telemachus Antinous 7. Aeolus The Mockery of Aeolus Crawford – Aeolus : Victory Sons Incest – Journalism : Telemachus Floating Island – Press Mentor Ulysses (2) 8. Lestrygonians Dejection Antiphates Antiphates – Hunger : The seductive The Decoy : Food : daughter Lestrygonians – Teeth Ulysses (continued) 220 Appendix B

Title Sense (meaning) Persons Correspondences

9. Scylla and Two-edged Scylla and The Rock – Aristotle, Charybdis dilemma Charybdis Dogma, Stratford : Ulysses The Whirlpool – Plato, Mysticism, London : Telemachus Ulysses – Socrates, Jesus, Shakespeare Antinous 10. Wandering The Hostile Objects Bosporus – Liffey : Rocks Environment European Bank – Places Viceroy : Asiatic Bank – Conmee : Forces Symplegades – Groups of Citizens Ulysses 11. Sirens The Sweet Cheat Leucothea Sirens – Barmaids : Isle – Bar Parthenope Ulysses Orpheus Menelaus The Argonauts 12. Cyclops The Egocidal Prometheus Noman – I : Stake Terror – Cigar : No one (I) Challenge – apotheosis Ulysses Galatea 13. Nausikaa The Projected Nausikaa Phaeacia – Star of the Mirage Sea : Gerty – Handmaidens Nausikaa Alkínoös Arete Ulysses (continued) Appendix B 221

Title Sense (meaning) Persons Correspondences

14. Oxen of the The Eternal Flocks Lampetie Hospital – Trinacria : Sun Lampetie, Phaethusa – Phaethusa Nurses : Helios – Horne : Oxen – Fertility : Helios Crime – Fraud Hyperion Jove Ulysses 15. Circe The Man-Hating Circe Circe – Bella Orc The Beasts Telemachus Ulysses Hermes 16. Eumaeus The Ambush at Eumaeus Eumaeus – Skin the Home Goat : Sailor – Ulysses Ulysses Pseudangelos : Melanthius – Telemachus Corley The Bad Shepherd Ulysses Pseudangelos 17. Ithaca The Armed Hope Ulysses Eurymachus – Boylan : Suitors – scruples : Telemachus Bow – reason Eurycleia The Suitors 18. Penelope The Past Sleeps Laertes Penelope – Earth : Web – Movement Ulysses Penelope Appendix C

The Odysseyy and Ulysses: Episode and Chapter Comparison

(Page numbers in parentheses refer to the Fitzgerald translation of the Odyssey)

Ulyssess chapters Homeric episodes

1. “Telemachus” Books 1–2 2. “Nestor” Book 3 3. “Proteus” Book 4 (63–69) 4. “Calypso” Book 5 (81–88) 5. “Lotus Eaters” Book 9 (147–48) 6. “Hades” Book 11 7. “Aeolus” Book 10 (165–67) 8. “Lestrygonians” Book 10 (167–69) 9. “Scylla and Charybdis” Book 12 (216–18) 10. “Wandering Rocks” Book 12 (211) 11. “Sirens” Book 12 (214–16) 12. “Cyclops” Book 9 (148–62) 13. “Nausikaa” Book 6 14. “Oxen of the Sun” Book 12 (218–23) 15. “Circe” Book 10 (169–82) 16. “Eumaeus” Books 14, 16 17. “Ithaca” Books 17–22 18. “Penelope” Book 23 224 Appendix C

Homeric episodes Ulyssess chapters

Books 1–2 1. “Telemachus” Book 3 2. “Nestor” Book 4 (63–69) 3. “Proteus” Book 5 (81–88) 4. “Calypso” Book 6 13. “Nausikaa” Book 9 (147–48) 5. “Lotus Eaters” Book 9 (148–62) 12. “Cyclops” Book 10 (165–67) 7. “Aeolus” Book 10 (167–69) 8. “Lestrygonians” Book 10 (169–82) 15. “Circe” Book 11 6. “Hades” Book 12 (211) 10. “Wandering Rocks” Book 12 (214–16) 11. “Sirens” Book 12 (216–18) 9. “Scylla and Charybdis” Book 12 (218–23) 14. “Oxen of the Sun” Books 14, 16 16. “Eumaeus” Books 17–22 17. “Ithaca” Book 23 18. “Penelope” Appendix D

Modernist Sexuality in Exiles

The most explicit treatment of modernist sexuality in Joyce’s writing before Ulyssess is the play Exiless (1918). Set in the Dublin suburbs of Merrion and Ranelagh in the summer of 1912, the play explores the conflicted desires of the writer Richard Rowan, who has returned to Ireland with his common-law wife Bertha after a nine-year exile in Italy. His friend Robert Hand was also in love with Bertha before she left with Richard for the Continent, and the present action of the play concerns Robert’s efforts to seduce Bertha. For her part, Bertha is given to understand that she has complete freedom to do as she wishes, a freedom she suspects Richard offers mostly in exchange for his own freedom to pursue Beatrice Justice, Robert’s cousin. The Beatrice-Richard-Bertha triangle, however, is far less important than the Richard-Bertha-Robert triangle, which tests the friendship between the two men even as it tries the love between Bertha and Richard. The first act comes to life when Robert romances Bertha and makes arrangements for a tryst at his cottage in Ranelagh. But the moment he leaves, Bertha tells Richard everything about the pro- posed affair. In the second act, she keeps the assignation with Robert, but Richard arrives at the cottage first and explains that he knows all about him and Bertha, though he still insists that Bertha is free to act according to her own desires. What might seem to be a fairly straightforward, Ibsenite treatment of free love becomes psychologi- cally complicated when Richard confesses to Robert that his motives are not noble but selfish: “Because in the very core of my ignoble heart I longed to be betrayed by you and by her – in the dark, in the night – secretly, meanly, craftily. By you, my best friend, and by her. I longed for that passionately” (E, 88). In light of this confession, Robert realizes that he and Bertha “have only obeyed your will” (90) and that Bertha’s complicity in Richard’s desire for betrayal means that she was “making an experiment for his sake” (98). The results 226 Appendix D of the experiment are inconclusive: the third and final act leaves both Richard and the audience in a state of doubt about Bertha’s betrayal, though there is no doubt about her desire for Richard. The explanatory notes that Joyce wrote for the play show just how modernist the sexuality of Exiless is. These notes no doubt reflect some of the same ideas about sexuality that Joyce worked into Stephen’s Shakespeare theory in chapter 9 of Ulyssess, since that theory has its ori- gins in a series of lectures Joyce gave in Trieste around the time he was working on Exiless (c. 1912–13). For example, in the notes, he says that “[a]s a contribution to the study of jealousy Shakespeare’s Othello is incomplete.” He describes Richard’s jealousy in the play as “[s]epa- rated from hatred and having its baffled lust converted into an erotic stimulus and moreover holding in its own power the hindrance, the difficulty which has excited it, it must reveal itself as the very immola- tion of the pleasure of possession on the altar of love” (E, 148–49). In Ulyssess, Stephen says that Shakespeare’s “unremitting intellect is the hornmad [i.e., jealous] Iago ceaselessly willing that the moor in him shall suffer” (U, 9.1023–24), an idea that certainly makes the study of jealousy in Othelloo more complete or, at least, more like the way jeal- ousy operates in Exiles. In some ways, what Joyce says in his notes to Exiless about the play might be better said of Ulysses. Leopold Bloom, for instance, appears to find the desire other men have for his wife an “erotic stimulus,” even as he holds “the difficulty which has excited it” in his own power. Moreover, Bloom also seems to have sacrificed “the pleasure of possession on the altar of love,” mainly because he has become incapable, for psychological reasons, of providing Molly with that pleasure himself. Bloom’s cuckoldry is not a simple affair, and the character certainly illustrates the truth of another observation Joyce makes in his notes to Exiless, that “[s]ince the publication of the lost pages of Madame Bovaryy the center of sympathy appears to have been esthetically shifted from the lover or fancyman to the husband or cuckold” (E, 150). In a 1918 letter, Nora addressed Joyce “Dear Cuckold” (JJII, 445), and while the salutation may have been nothing more than a way of teasing him, it does hint at the complicated desire for betrayal evinced by Richard Rowan and Leopold Bloom. The experimental sexuality of Exiless reflects Joyce’s willingness to explore the darker regions of his own sexuality, including his desire to share his lover Nora with other men. We can never know whether Joyce would have acted on this desire had Nora been complicit in it, but the question is moot because Nora clearly found the prospect unsettling. Joyce’s friend Frank Bud- gen says that Nora, reduced to tears, told him that “Jim wants me to Appendix D 227 go with other men so he will have something to write about” (JJIII, 445). That remark was evidently made in 1918, when Joyce’s work on Ulyssess would have included putting the finishing touches on the Shakespeare theory in chapter 9 (JJII, 442), a theory that turned the bard’s supposed cuckoldry into an artistic impetus. Years earlier, when Joyce was teaching English at the Berlitz School in Trieste, he became good friends with his student Roberto Prezioso, a “dapper Venetian” who became the partial model for both Robert Hand in Exiless and Blazes Boylan in Ulyssess (JJII, 197, 356, 378). Prezioso has this distinction because of his attraction to Nora, who informed Joyce in 1913 that Prezioso had asked her to be his lover, reportedly telling her, “Il sole s’è levato per Lei” (JJII, 316), “The sun has risen for you.” The line is slightly modified and given to Bloom near the end of Ulyssess when Molly recalls her husband’s remarks on the Hill of Howth years ago: “The sun shines for you” (18.1571–72). Joyce confronted Prezioso for going too far, but he may have been partially responsible for his friend’s behavior by conducting an experiment not unlike the one Richard Rowan conducts with Bertha and his friend Robert in Exiles. The episode continued to haunt Joyce for several years: in 1916, he had a dream of passing Prezioso weeping in the street and holding a copy of Dubliners. Joyce wrote down an inter- pretation of the dream, making the key point that “the motive from which I liberated myself in art he [Prezioso] is unable to liberate him- self from in life” (JJIII, 437). The comment shows that Joyce regarded his work as experimental in more than one sense. Notes

Introduction 1. Aristotle, Poeticss, trans. Gerald F. Else (Ann Arbor: University of Michi- gan Press, 1970), 49. 2. Richard Ellmann, Ulysses on the Liffeyy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), 186–87. 3. For an account of Joyce’s use of the schemata as an advertising strategy for Ulyssess and for a discussion of Joyce’s exchange with Cerf on the issue, see Kevin J. H. Dettmar, “Selling Ulysses,” James Joyce Quarterly 30.4–31.1 (Summer/Fall 1993): 795–812. 4. Valéry Larbaud, “James Joyce,” James Joyce: The Critical Heritage, ed. Robert H. Deming (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1970), 1:258 and 1:260. 5. Ezra Pound, “Ulysses,” Literary Essays of Ezra Pound, ed. T. S. Eliot (New York: New Directions, 1968), 406. 6. T. S. Eliot, “Ulyssess, Order and Myth,” James Joyce: The Critical Her- itage, ed. Robert H. Deming (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1970), vol. 1: 268 and 270–71. Further references are cited parentheti- cally in the text. 7. Andrew Gibson, Joyce’s Revenge: History Politics, and Aesthetics in “Ulysses”” (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 114, offers the example of the revivalist historiographer Standish O’Grady, who “sought to connect Ireland with ancient Greece, especially Homer. He insistently associates Irish bards with Homer and presents himself as writing the Irish equivalent of Homeric epic. In Ulyssess, Joyce counters O’Grady’s Homeric analogies with a (wickedly ironic) one of his own. In this respect, his practice supplies an important context for under- standing the famous Homeric parallel.” 8. Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce’s “Ulysses”: A Studyy (New York: Vintage, 1955), 4. Further references to this edition are cited parenthetically in the text. 9. Morton P. Levitt, “Harry Levin’s James Joycee and the Modernist Age: A Personal Reading,” Re-Viewing Classics of Joyce Criticism, ed. Janet Egleson Dunleavy (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1991), 90. 10. Harry Levin, James Joyce: A Critical Introductionn (New York: New Directions, 1941), 76 and 77. Further references to this edition are cited parenthetically in the text. 230 Notes

11. William York Tindall, A Reader’s Guide to James Joycee (New York: Noonday, 1959), 128–29. 12. Richard Ellmann, James Joycee (New York: Oxford University Press, 1959), 370. 13. C. H. Peake, James Joyce: The Citizen and the Artistt (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1977), 125. 14. Harry Blamires, The Bloomsday Book: A Guide through Joyce’s “Ulysses” (London: Methuen, 1966), x–xi. 15. A good example of this point is David Norris and Carl Flint’s Introduc- ing Joycee (New York: Totem, 1995), which urges the reader to become acquainted with Homer’s epic in order to “sharpen one’s appreciation of Joyce’s modern version” (109). Extremely brief summaries of the Homeric episodes corresponding to equally brief summaries of the “Proteus,” “Sirens,” and “Nausikaa” chapters of Ulyssess illustrate the point. A partial exception to the pattern occurs when the authors “look at an episode in Homer, ‘The Cyclops,’ [to] see how Joyce trans- forms it in Ulyssess” (114). The discussion is more extensive but then the “The Cyclops” chapter has always been offered as the “representative” example of the way the Homeric correspondence works. 16. The minimalist approach to Homer is favored by Richard Brown, James Joycee (New York: St Martin’s, 1992); David Fuller, James Joyce’s “Ulysses”” (New York: St Martin’s, 1992); and Vincent Sherry, James Joyce: “Ulysses”” (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994). All three of these introductions, however, include some version of a schema. 17. Michael Seidel, James Joyce: A Short Introductionn (Malden, MA: Black- well, 2002), 99 and 103. 18. Michael Seidel, Epic Geography: James Joyce’s “Ulysses”” (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1976), xiii and xvi. 19. William M. Schutte, Joyce and Shakespeare: A Study in the Meaning of “Ulysses”” (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1957), 54. 20. Mary T. Reynolds, “Joyce’s Shakespeare / Schutte’s Joyce,” Re-Viewing Classics of Joyce Criticism, ed. Janet Egleson Dunleavy (Urbana: Univer- sity of Illinois Press, 1991), 172. 21. Vincent Cheng, Shakespeare and Joyce: A Study of “Finnegans Wake” (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1984), 22, 4. 22. Gibson, Joyce’s Revenge, 77. 23. Maud Ellmann, “James Joyce,” Great Shakespeareans: Joyce, T. S. Eliot, Auden, Beckettt, ed. Adrian Poole (London: Continuum, 2012), 12, 19, 29, and 31. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. 24. Declan Kiberd, “Shakespeare and Company: Hamlet in Kildare Street,” Shakespeare and the Irish Writer, ed. Janet Clare and Stephen O’Neill (Dublin: University College Dublin Press, 2010), 100, 103, and 105. 25. Mary T. Reynolds, Joyce and Dante: The Shaping Imaginationn (Prince- ton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 3 and 5–7. Notes 231

26. Samuel Beckett, “Dante . . . Bruno. Vico . . . Joyce,” Our Exagmina- tion Round His Factification for Incamination of Work in Progresss (New York: New Directions, 1972), 18–19. 27. Lucia Boldrini, Joyce, Dante, and the Poetics of Literary Relations: Lan- guage and Meaning in “Finnegans Wake”” (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 19, points out that, while Dante “elaborates the theory of a supra-municipal, illustrious vernacular” in De vulgari eloquentia, “he didd write the Divine Comedyy in an illustrious form of Florentine.” 28. Sam Slote, The Silence in Progress of Dante, Mallarmé, and Joycee (New York: Peter Lang, 1999), 2. 29. Jennifer Margaret Fraser, Rite of Passage in the Narrative of Dante and Joycee (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2002), 6 and 9. 30. Gian Balsamo, Joyce’s Messianism: Dante, Negative Existence, and the Messianic Selff (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2004), 4. 31. For example, Boldrini, Joyce, Dante, and the Poetics of Literary Relationss, 100, argues that Joyce benefited not only from the structure of Dante’s poetry but also from the structural principles outlined in Dante’s trea- tise, De vulgari eloquentia: “Dante’s treatise offered an important ante- cedent, strikingly similar in the method although different in scope. Joyce could turn to the medieval model both as source material for the linguistic structure of the Wakee [. . .] and as model in relation to which he could define his own multilingual theory and practice.” 32. S. Foster Damon, “The Odyssey in Dublin,” James Joyce: Two Decades of Criticism, ed. Seon Givens (New York: Vanguard, 1948), 206.

Chapter 1 1. Declan Kiberd, in “Ulysses” and Us: The Art of Everyday Livingg (Lon- don: Faber and Faber, 2009), 338, offers something like the standard reading when he says, “Stephen will appoint Leopold Bloom as his sur- rogate father, from whom he may learn how to act in a world which is uncertain in its meaning.” Randall J. Pogorzelski, in “Epic and the Nation in Virgil’s Aeneidd and Joyce’s Ulyssess” (PhD diss., University of California, Santa Barbara, 2007), 78, similarly claims that “in ‘Circe,’ Stephen meets his surrogate father Bloom.” Stephen Sicari, Joyce’s Mod- ernist Allegory: “Ulysses” and the History of the Novell (Columbia: Uni- versity of South Carolina Press, 2001), 152, believes that “Stephen has been haunted all day by mother and finds a father” in Bloom. Bernard McKenna, James Joyce’s “Ulysses”: A Reference Guidee (Westport, CT: Greenwood, 2002), 161, says that by rejecting Bloom as a father figure, Stephen “spurn[s] the potential for growth.” Lee Spinks, in James Joyce: A Critical Guidee (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 121–22, sees Bloom “reborn as Stephen’s father” in a symbolic sense. One of the oddest of readings is the one offered by S. P. Fullenwider in Patterns in 232 Notes

Twentieth-Century European Thoughtt (New York: Peter Lang, 2004), 156: “In Ulyssess Stephen Dadalus [sic] searches for and finds a spiritual father to replace John Stanislaus Joyce [Joyce’s father].” The idea that Bloom is Stephen’s “spiritual” or “surrogate” father is one of the great clichés of Joyce criticism. 2. Karen Lawrence likens the reader to Odysseus in The Odyssey of Style in “Ulysses”” (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 7. 3. Fritz Senn, “Book of Many Turns,” Joyce’s Dislocutions: Essays on Read- ing as Translation, ed. John Paul Riquelme (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984), 133, says that Ulyssess itself is “Homer- ically polytropical. Voices change; characters are not fixed; language is versatile and polymorphous.” Senn returned to the Odyssean epithet polytroposs in a later essay, “In Classical Idiom: Anthologia Intertextua- liss,” Inductive Scrutinies: Focus on Joyce, ed. Christine O’Neill (Balti- more, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995), 200–202. 4. For a fuller discussion of these and other errors, see Robert Martin Adams, Surface and Symbol: The Consistency of James Joyce’s “Ulysses” (New York: Oxford University Press, 1967), 18–26. 5. Norman Austin, Helen of Troy and Her Shameless Phantomm (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1994), 1188fff and 162. 6. Michael Seidel, Epic Geography: James Joyce’s “Ulysses”” (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1976), 107. For the notesheet entry, see Philip F. Herring, ed., Joyce’s “Ulysses” Notesheets in the British Museum (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 1972), 106. 7. Charles Barbour, in The Marx Machine: Politics, Polemics, Ideologyy (Lan- ham, MD: Lexington, 2012), 21, says, “Marx was quoting Bruno Bauer when he said that ‘religion is the opium of the people,’ and Bauer may have been quoting the Marquis de Sade.” For a more complete account of Marx’s precursors on the topic, see Owen Chadwick, The Secular- ization of the European Mind in the Nineteenth Centuryy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1975), 49. 8. Richard Ellmann, The Consciousness of Joycee (Toronto: Oxford Uni- versity Press, 1977), 99. Ellmann indicates that Joyce had two cop- ies of The Wisdom of the Ancientss, one published in 1886 and another, stamped “J. J.,” published in 1900. 9. Francis Bacon, “Scylla and Icarus, or the Middle Way,” The Wisdom of the Ancients and the New Atlantiss (London: Cassell, 1900), 112–13. 10. Jacques Aubert, The Aesthetics of James Joycee (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992), 125, observes that the young Joyce, like Stephen, embraced neo-Hegelian aesthetics, but he ultimately came to realize “that he really belonged to the postt-Hegelian moment, in a sense to the Nietzschean moment, when ‘the legitimacy of man’s view- point was reaffirmed against the Divine,’ asserting ‘the real as multiplicity, fragmentation, difference, that only art can adequately grasp.’” Aubert quotes from Luc Ferry, Homo Aestheticuss (Paris: Grasset, 1990), 47––48. Notes 233

11. Frank Budgen, James Joyce and the Making of “Ulysses”” (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), 123. Further references are cited par- enthetically in the text with the abbreviation B. 12. The Odyssey, trans. S. H. Butcher and A. Lang, 2nd ed. (London: Mac- millan, 1879), 145. Further references to this edition are cited paren- thetically in the text with the abbreviation BL. 13. Andrew Gibson, Joyce’s Revenge: History, Politics, and Aesthetics in “Ulysses”” (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 114–15. 14. Stephen Minta, “Homer and Joyce: The Case of Nausikaa,” Homer in the Twentieth Century: Between World Literature and the Western Canon (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 102. 15. Minta, “Homer and Joyce,” 102, puts the question this way: “How far does Homer insist on the sexual awakening of Nausikaa, how much does he allow to remain a suggestion?” 16. Charles Lamb, The Adventures of Ulyssess (Boston: Ginn and Company, 1894), 90–91. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text with the abbreviation L. 17. Minta, “Homer and Joyce,” 101. 18. George Saintsbury, A History of English Prose Rhythmm (London: Mac- millan, 1912), 15. The information that Joyce used Saintsbury in writ- ing “Oxen of the Son” comes from an interview with Stanislaus Joyce by Richard Ellmann; see JJIII, 475 and 785n24. 19. P. W. Harsh first made the claim that Penelope recognizes Odysseus at the end of book 19, when she announces the test of the bow, rather than in book 23, when she gets Odysseus to react to her assertion that the couple’s immovable bed has been moved, in “Penelope and Odysseus in Odysseyy XIX,” American Journal of Philologyy 71 (1950): 1–21. More recently, the debate was revived in the pages of College Literature, beginning with John B. Vlahos, who endorsed Harsh’s argument and provided additional evidence for it; see John B. Vlahos, “Homer’s Odyssey, Books 19 and 23: Early Recognition; A Solution to the Enigmas of Ivory and Horns, and the Test of the Bed,” Col- lege Literaturee 34.2 (Spring 2007): 107–31. Responses to Harsh and Vlahos include Steve Reece, “Penelope’s ‘Early Recognition’ of Odys- seus from a Neoanalytic and Oral Perspective,” College Literature 38.2 (Spring 2011): 101–17 and Naoko Yamagata, “Penelope and Early Recognition: Vlahos, Harsh, and Eustathius,” College Literature 38.2 (Spring 2011): 122–30. Although most commentators, ancient and modern, consider book 24—set in the underworld—to be a post- Homeric interpolation, there the shade of Amphímedon, one of the suitors, tells the shade of Agamemnon that Odysseus “assigned his wife her part” when she set up the contest of the bow and the ax-helves (O, 450). 20. This theory was first suggested by Hugh Kenner, Ulyssess, rev. ed. (Balti- more, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987), 146. 234 Notes

21. According to John Vickery, Joyce probably had some exposure to James G. Frazer’s The Golden Bough, though there is no record that he did. But Joyce was familiar with the work of Jane Harrison who made the argument that myths emerged from ancient rituals. See John Vick- ery, Literary Impact of “The Golden Bough”” (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1973), 326–30.

Chapter 2 1. “Gaiety Theatre,” The Freeman’s Journal and National Presss, June 16, 1904, p. 2. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. 2. Andrew Gibson, Joyce’s Revenge: History, Politics, and Aesthetics in “Ulysses”” (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 77, reads Stephen’s theory as a “political critique of Shakespeare, partly as a purveyor of colonial ideology.” Philip Edwards, “Shakespeare and the Politics of the Irish Revival,” Shakespeare and the Irish Writerr (Dublin: University Col- lege Dublin Press, 2010), 24, summarizes the arguments of Terrence Hawks, Alan Sinfield, and Terry Eagleton on this topic when he says that “Shakespeare owes his position in the forefront of English literary culture to the utility of his plays in reinforcing values and attitudes con- venient to ruling-class ideology and supportive of the power structures of capitalist societies.” But Edwards also comments that for “a large number of Irish people in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, eager for the freedom and independence of Ireland even to the point of armed rebellion, the acceptance of Shakespeare’s plays as an indispensable part of their cultural life presented no problem whatsoever” (25). 3. Anthony Burgess, Re Joycee (New York: Norton, 1965), 44. 4. Margot Norris, for example, in Virgin and Veteran Readings of “Ulysses” (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 13, says that “[a] virgin reader has no way of knowing whether Bloom’s suspicion of an amorous rela- tionship between his wife and her impresario is a paranoid fantasy or a justified fear until Molly’s revelation in the concluding episode of the novel.” Norris implies that Bloom himself has not done anything to bring about the affair, but is merely suspicious, paranoid, or fearful of his wife’s intentions. To me, it is clear that Molly has been manipulated into the position that she finds herself in on June 16, 1904. 5. James Joyce, Joyce’s “Ulysses” Notesheets in the British Museum, ed. Phil- lip F. Herring (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1972), 499. 6. Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time, trans. C. K. Scott Moncrieff, et al. (New York: Random House, 2003), vol. 3: 641. 7. Proust, In Search of Lost Time, vol. 4: 314. 8. Quoted in Clive Hart, Structure and Motif in “Finnegans Wake”” (Evan- ston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1962), 163n1. 9. William M. Schutte, Joyce and Shakespeare, 79, observes that “[t]his is not the first time that the act of literary creation has been associated for Notes 235

Stephen with an altar and smoke.” In the Portraitt, lines from the vil- lanelle Stephen composes are described thus: “Smoke, incense ascend- ing from the altar of the world” (P, 218). 10. Bernard Burke and Ashworth P. Burke, A Genealogical and Heraldic History of the Peerage and Baronetage, the Privy Council, Knightage and Companionage, 76th ed. (London: Harrison, 1914), 840. 11. Albert S[tratford] G[eorge] Canning, The Divided Irish: A Historical Sketchh (London: Allen, 1894), v. Further references to this edition are cited parenthetically in the text. 12. Albert S[tratford] G[eorge] Canning, British Power and Thought: A Historical Inquiryy (London: Smith, Elder, 1901), 51. 13. Albert S[tratford] G[eorge] Canning, Shakespeare Studied in Eight Plays (London: Unwin, 1903), 9. Further references to this edition are cited parenthetically in the text. 14. Homer, The Iliad, trans. Richmond Lattimore (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951), 81. Further references to this edition are cited parenthetically in the text. 15. In reworking the Trojan legend into his long narrative poem titled Troilus and Criseyde, Chaucer focused on the character Troilus (Ther- sites does not appear at all in the poem), who is named only once in The Iliadd as a son of Priam and who died sometime before his brother Hector. The character was more fully developed in medieval French romances, where he acquired the consort “Briseida.” Chaucer bor- rowed this French material, along with Boccaccio’s treatment of it in Il Filostratoo (“The One Overwhelmed by Love”), and told the story of Troilus’s love for the beautiful widow Criseyde against the background of the Trojan War. See Jenny Nuttall, Troilus and Criseyde: A Reader’s Guidee (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 1–3. Shake- speare took Chaucer’s poem and made the Iliadic background more of a foreground, but the drama still relies heavily on the romance— brokered by the bawd Pandarus—between Troilus and Cressida. Plot complications ensue when the Trojan woman Cressida is exchanged for the Trojan commander Antenor, earlier imprisoned by the Greeks. Before the exchange, she vows eternal love to Troilus, but once she is in the Greek camp, she gives herself to Diomed, and Troilus witnesses the betrayal. The Trojan Troilus therefore joins the Grecian Menelaus in the fraternity of cuckolds, adding further substance to Thersites’s succinct summary of the Greek adventure in Troy: “All the argument is a whore and a cuckold” (II.iii.71). 16. Louis B. Wright and Virginia A. Lamar, eds., Introduction to Troilus and Cressidaa by William Shakespeare (New York: Washington Square, 1966), xviii. 17. Some Shakespeare scholars go further and understand the play as a reflection of contemporary circumstances surrounding the fall of the Earl of Essex, a former favorite of the Queen who tried to incite her own 236 Notes

ministers against her and who lost his head when the plot failed. The fall of Essex makes Shakespeare’s treatment of Achilles especially interest- ing, since Chapman had identified Achilles with Essex. See David Bed- dington, ed., introduction to Troilus and Cressidaa (London: Cengage, 1998), 11–18. 18. For discussions of Joyce’s relationship to cinema generally, see Roll Away the Reel World: James Joyce and Cinema, ed. John McCort (Cork, Ireland: Cork University Press, 2010) and for specific discussions of the “Circe” chapter, see, in that volume, Philip Sicker, “Mirages in the Lampglow: Joyce’s ‘Circe’ and Méliès’ Dream Cinema,” 69–85, and Marco Camerani, “Circe’s Costume Changes: Bloom, Fregoli, and Early Cinema,” 103–21. 19. Frank Budgen, for example, says that various fantastic characters such as “[t]he decaying Dignam, Bloom’s grandfather, Lipoti Virag, [and] Stephen’s mother[,] exist as thoughts of Bloom and Stephen” (B, 253). Stanley Sultan, The Argument of “Ulysses”” (Columbus: Ohio State Uni- versity Press, 1964), 356–61, presents the action of “Circe” as an alter- nation back and forth between conscious and unconscious scenes. 20. Robert Adams, “Hades,” James Joyce’s “Ulysses”: Critical Essayss, eds. Clive Hart and David Hayman (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974), 102–3, lists several candidates for the identity of the mysterious man in the mackintosh, including Joyce, “who sometimes wore a dirty raincoat.” A. Nicholas Fargnoli and Michael Gillespie, James Joyce A to Z: The Essential Reference to the Life and Workk (New York: Facts on File, 1995), 149, say that “scholarly speculation about the identity of the man in the mackintosh [. . .] range[s] from James Duffy, a central figure in the Dublinerss story ‘A Painful Case,’ to James Joyce himself.” John Gordon, Joyce and Reality: The Empirical Strikes Backk (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2004), 240, believes that the character “is the ghost of Bloom’s dead father, Rudolph.” Gordon’s identification is not relevant to my argument, but his sense that the character is a ghost chimes with the idea that the man in the mackintosh might represent the ghostly presence of the author Joyce haunting his own work. 21. For another reading of the Shakespeare reflection, see Maud Ellmann, “James Joyce,” Great Shakespeareans: Joyce, T. S. Eliot, Auden, Beckett, ed. Adrian Poole (London: Continuum, 2012), 34–35. In my view, Ell- mann’s reading is too constrained by the psychoanalytic interpretation of the hallucinations: “‘Circe’ emulates the theatre of the unconscious, where repressed desires reappear as phantoms to the dreaming mind” (34). 22. For further discussion of the role of Bruno in this section of “Circe” and his identification as Gerald, see Theoharis Constantine Theoha- ris, Joyce’s “Ulysses”: An Anatomy of the Soull (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1988), 64–67. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text as Theoharis. Notes 237

23. Matthew Arnold, Culture and Anarchy, ed. Dover Wilson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1932), 132. Arnold’s definition of these two celebrated contraries is detailed more fully as “right thinking,” for Hellenism, and “right acting,” for Hebraism: “The uppermost idea with Hellenism is to see things as they really are; the uppermost idea with Hebraism is conduct and obedience” (131). 24. As Fritz Senn puts it, “There is ‘infinite variety everywhere,’ but the poles of sameness and difference, and the process of transformation bringing them about, underlie everything, including such concepts and themes as metempsychosis, incarnation, trinity, identity, Homeric parallels, analogues, Viconian schemes, ‘history repeating itself with a difference,’ and the representativeness of Joyce’s Dublin. And part of the vitality lies in the transmutations” (Joyce’s Dislocutions: Reading as Translation, ed. John Paul Riquelme [Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984], 197).

Chapter 3 1. I follow scholarly tradition in referring to the historical figure as Vergil, after the Latin Vergiliuss, and to Dante’s character as Virgil, after the Italian Virgilio. 2. Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper: James Joyce’s Early Yearss (New York: Viking, 1958), 33. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text as MBKK. 3. For the dating of the manuscript, see Theodore Spencer, ed., introduc- tion to Stephen Heroo (New York: New Directions, 1963), 7–9. 4. Mary T. Reynolds, Joyce and Dante: The Shaping Imaginationn (Prince- ton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 46–51, offers a more detailed examination of the Brunetto-Wells comparison. Further refer- ences are cited parenthetically in the text. 5. The contrast between the priestly and the artistic vocations becomes clear at the beginning of the next chapter, which follows directly from the Wells episode: “He smiled because it seemed to him so unexpected a ripeness in himself—this pity—or rather this impulse of pity for he had no more than entertained it. But it was the actual achievement of his essay [about the nature of art] which had allowed him so mature a pleasure as the sensation of pity for another” (SHH, 76). 6. For a detailed examination of the relationship of “The Sisters” to Dante comparing Father Flynn to Brunetto, see Lucia Boldrini, “The Artist Pairing His Quotations: Aesthetic and Ethical Implications of the Dan- tean Intertext in Dublinerss,” ReJoycing: New Readings of “Dublinerss,” eds. Rosa M. Bollettieri Bosinelli and Harold F. Mosher Jr. (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1998), 230–35. 7. In a 1904 letter to C. P. Curran, Joyce used the term “epiclets”— meaning “little epics”—to describe the stories of Dublinerss and, in 238 Notes

the same letter, equated the term “paralysis” with “hemiplegia of the will” (SL, 22). For decades, the word epicletss was misread as epicleti, a “Greek” term supposed to be “[d]erived from epiclesiss (invocation)” (SHH, 22n4). For clarification, see Hans Walter Gabler’s introduction to the Norton Critical Edition of Dublinerss, ed. Margot Norris (New York: Norton, 2006), xvi, n4. Joyce also identified “paralysis” with the specific form hemiplegia in which one side of the body is paralyzed in Stephen Hero: “The deadly chill of the atmosphere of the college para- lysed Stephen’s heart. [. . .] Contempt of [. . .] human nature, weak- ness, nervous tremblings, fear of day and joy, distrust of man and life, hemiplegia of the will, beset the body burdened and disaffected in its members by its black tyrannous lice” (SHH, 194). 8. Aristotle, Poetics, trans. Gerald F. Else (Ann Arbor: University of Michi- gan Press, 1970), 46. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text as APP. 9. For further discussion of the relevance of the ancient problem of the quadrature of the circle to both Ulyssess and the Paradiso, see Reed Way Dasenbrock and Ray Mines, “‘Quella vista nova’: Dante, Mathematics and the Ending of Ulyssess,” Medieval Joyce, ed. Lucia Boldrini, European Joyce Studiess 13 (2002): 79–91. 10. Richard Ellmann, Ulysses on the Liffeyy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1972), 172, observes that “Dante and Beatrice in Canto XXVII of the Paradisoo look down on the straits of Gibraltar just as Bloom- Mulvey do” and adds that “[i]t is now clear why Molly Bloom had to be born so far from Ireland, at the Pillars of Hercules.” 11. Umberto Eco, The Aesthetics of Chaosmos: The Middle Ages of James Joyce, trans. Ellen Esrock (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989), 7. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. 12. Ezra Pound, “Ulysses,” Literary Essays of Ezra Pound, ed. T. S. Eliot (New York: New Directions, 1968), 406. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. 13. Reynolds counts as an “allusion” to Dante any reference in Ulyssess to a historical figure, such as Sabellius or Averroës, that Dante also happens to mention. See Mary T. Reynolds, Joyce and Dante: The Shaping Imag- ination (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 272–301. 14. Most commentators on the Inferno agree that Dante’s journey with Virgil through hell begins at sunset on Good Friday and lasts until sun- set on Holy Saturday. See The Divine Comedy 1: Helll, trans. Dorothy L. Sayers (London: Penguin, 1949), 296. 15. David Hayman, “Ulysses”: The Mechanics of Meaningg, rev. ed. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1982), 84 and 98. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. 16. For an explanation of the four causes, see R. J. Hankinson, “Philosophy of Science,” The Cambridge Companion to Aristotle, ed. Julian Barnes (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 120–22. Notes 239

17. Wyndam Lewis, Time and Western Mann (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1928), 91. 18. For a detailed discussion of such publications, see Andrew Gibson, Joyce’s Revenge: History, Politics, and Aesthetics in “Ulysses”” (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 136. 19. Ellmann, Ulysses on the Liffey, 1866fff 20. Victor Hugo, The Man Who Laughss (New York: Mondial, 2005), 232. 21. For an account of Dante’s place in Florentine history, see John M. Najemy, “Dante and Florence,” The Cambridge Companion to Dante, ed. Rachel Jacoff (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 80–99. 22. The word Guelph is derived from Welf, the name of a powerful Bavarian family who supported the popes; Ghibelline is derived from Waibling, the name of the castle where several emperors ruled. See Ronald L. Mar- tinez and Robert M. Durling, introduction to The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighierii (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), vol. 1: 6. 23. For the dating of the Commedia, see Martinez and Durling, introduc- tion to The Divine Comedy, vol. 1: 14–15. 24. See Arthur Griffith, The Resurrection of Hungary: A Parallel for Ireland (Dublin: James Duffy and Co.; M. H. Gill and Son; Sealy, Bryers and Walker, 1904), especially chapter 27, “Hungary and Ireland,” 82–96. 25. Hugh Kenner, “Ulysses”” (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987), 133. 26. S. J. Connolly, ed., The Oxford Companion to Irish History, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 542. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text as IHH. 27. For the anarchistic meaning, see Robert Spoo, James Joyce and the Lan- guage of History: Dedalus’s Nightmaree (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 20–21, and David Weir, Anarchy and Culture: The Aesthetic Politics of Modernismm (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1997), 216. 28. Dante Alighieri, The Literary Criticism of Dante Alighieri, ed. and trans. Robert S. Haller (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1973), 99. Fur- ther references to this edition are cited parenthetically in the text as LCD. 29. For a discussion of the authenticity of the letter to Cangrande, see The Dante Encyclopedia, ed. Richard Lansing (New York: Routledge, 2010), 353. For further discussion of the epistle in relation to Joyce, see Lucia Boldrini, “Working in Layers,” Joyce, Dante and the Poetics of Lit- erary Relationss (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 26– 64. Although the focus of this chapter is on Finnegans Wake, Boldrini’s elucidation of the fourfold principle of polysemous meaning is useful to a reading of Ulysses. As Boldrini says, “One of the received notions of Joyce criticism is that Dante’s theory of the four levels of meaning is important for all of Joyce’s work” (35). 30. In 1956, Marvin Magalaner and James M. Kain, Joyce: The Man, the Work, the Reputationn (New York: New York University Press, 1956), 210, pointed out that “Joyce seems to have invited [. . .] comparisons” 240 Notes

of Ulyssess with Dante’s works “by indirect reference to Dante’s famed letter of Can Grande, in which the four levels of interpretation are defined.” But their own efforts to relate Dante’s polysemous meanings— indicated as “literal, allegorical, moral, and anagogical, or mystical” (161)—to Ulyssess are rather confused. In an analysis of chapter 9, they relate the four levels of meaning to the interpretations of various critics: “The realistic foreground receives its fullest documentation by Kain, the relation of the modern world by Levin, the Homeric parallels and occult themes by Gilbert, the anagogical by Tindal” (161). Understanding the realism of the novel as “literal” is reasonable enough, but it is not clear how Levin’s “relation of the modern world” is allegorical or how Gil- bert’s study of “Homeric parallels and occult themes” is moral, and they do not indicate what Tindal’s interpretation is. In 1969, Robert Boyle Jr. offered an elaborate reading of the short story “Grace” based on the four levels of meaning. See “Swiftian Allegory and Dantean Parody in Joyce’s ‘Grace,’” James Joyce Quarterlyy 7.1 (Fall 1969): 11–21.

Afterword 1. See, for example, the postcard to Stanislaus of June 16, 1915, written in German and translated as follows: “The first episode of my new novel Ulyssess is written. The first part, the Telemachiad, consists of four [sic] episodes: the second of fifteen, that is, Ulysses’ wanderings: and the third, Ulysses’ return home, of three more episodes” (SL, 209n4). 2. For an explanation of the ring structure of the Odyssey, see Ralph Hex- ter, A Guide to the Odyssey: A Commentary on the English Translation of Robert Fitzgeraldd (New York: Vintage, 1993), 124–25. 3. Stuart Gilbert started the trend in 1930 with James Joyce’s “Ulysses”: A Studyy (New York: Vintage, 1955), 39–41 and 110, which was followed by Ellsworth’s Mason’s PhD dissertation, “James Joyce’s Ulyssess and Vico’s Cycles” (Yale University, 1948). A. M. Klein focused on Vichian meaning in the “Nestor” chapter in “‘A Shout in the Street’: An Analy- sis of the Second Chapter of Ulyssess,” New Directions 13 (1951): 327– 45. Additional studies include Patrick T. White, “James Joyce’s Ulysses and Vico’s Principles of Humanity” (PhD diss., University of Michigan, 1963) and Matthew Hodgart, “A Viconian Sentence in Ulyssess,” Orbis Litterarum 19 (1964): 201–4. 4. Richard Ellmann, Ulysses on the Liffeyy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1972), 53. 5. A. Walton Litz, “Vico and Joyce,” Giambattista Vico: An International Symposium, ed. Giorgio Tagliacozzo (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1969), 248. 6. Giambattista Vico, The New Science, trans. Thomas Goddard Bergin and Max Harold Fisch (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1976), 301. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. Notes 241

7. Reed Way Dasenbrock, Imitating the Italians: Wyatt, Spenser, Synge, Pound, Joycee (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1991), 135. Further references are cited parenthetically in the text. 8. Giambattista Vico, “Discovery of the True Dante,” Discussions of “The Divine Comedy,” ed. Irma Brandeis (Boston: Heath, 1961), 11. Brandeis, in 11n, dates the essay to between 1728 and 1730, after the first edition of the Scienza nuova. Mary T. Renolds, Joyce and Dante: The Shaping Imaginationn (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 202, says Vico’s essay on Dante was “undoubtedly known to Joyce” (202). 9. Richard Ellmann says, “Joyce [. . .] knew Croce’s Estetica [1902], with its chapter on Vico,” and proceeds to quote a passage from Ulyssess based on “Croce’s restatement of Vico” as follows: “Man creates the human world, creates it by transforming himself into the facts of society: by thinking it he re-creates his own creations, traverses over again the paths he has already traversed, reconstructs the whole ideally, and thus knows it with full and true knowledge” (JJIII, 340n). Ellmann implies that the restatement of Vico is drawn from Croce’s Estetica, but it is, in fact, from his Philosophy of Giambattista Vico, trans. R. G. Collingwood (London: Latimer, 1913), 29. The passage in Ulyssess to which it can be compared occurs in the “Circe” chapter: “What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a com- mercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self” (15.21177fff). The verbal parallels between the two passages are strong evidence that Joyce knew Croce’s book on Vico. In Trieste, during the period that he was working on Ulyssess, Joyce had several students who were knowledgeable about Croce (see JJIII, 341–42 and 382). 10. Croce, The Philosophy of Giambattista Vico, 150 and 223. Further refer- ences are cited parenthetically in the text. 11. Dasenbrock, Imitating the Italianss, 134–35 and 138–40, adds Moses as a fourth “poet” of transition named in the Scienza nuovaa who also occupies a position of prominence in Ulyssess by way of the John F. Tay- lor speech recited by Professor MacHugn in the “Aeolus” chapter. But it is clear that Moses is not nearly as crucial to the narrative, plot, and structure of Ulyssess as are Homer, Shakespeare, and Dante. 12. Quoted in Dasenbrock, Imitating the Italianss, 133. 13. Samuel Beckett, “Dante . . . Bruno. Vico . . . Joyce,” Our Exagmina- tion Round His Factification for Incamination of Work in Progresss (New York: New Directions, 1962), 18. 14. Dasenbrock, Imitating the Italianss, 242n14, says that Beckett’s errone- ous point about the dialectical mixture of Dante’s supposed synthetic language, given the wider availability of the first edition of the Scienza nuovaa at the time as well as “the parallel to Joyce’s own practice,” makes it “reasonable to assume Joyce’s agreement with the position.” Bibliography

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Act of Union, 30, 167, 168 Boldrini, Lucia, 13, 231n27, Aeneidd (Vergil), 127, 164 231n31, 239n29 Alighieri, Dante, 1–4, 9, 11–14, 19, Boniface VIII, Pope, 164 72, 73, 126, 127–76, 177–78, Brandes, Georg, 9 180–83 British Power and Thought Alladin, 110 (Canning), 101 Aquinas, Saint Thomas, 152 Bruno, Giordano, 120–21, 122, Aristotle, 2, 35, 36, 37, 84, 128, 124, 125, 182 131, 136, 146, 152, 153–54, Budgen, Frank, 38, 50, 54, 55, 70, 186, 217, 220 83, 96, 103, 109, 226, 236n19 Arnold, Matthew, 123, 237n23 Burke, Thomas Henry, 59 Artifoni, Almidano, 121 Butcher, Samuel, 44, 45 As You Like Itt (Shakespeare), 113 Atkinson, F. M’Curdy, 124 Cangrande della Scala, 172, 174, Augustine, Saint, 13 239n29, 239n30 Augustus Caesar, 95, 100, 217 Canning, Albert Stratford George, 100–102, 103 Bacon, Francis, 36, 120 Casey, Joseph, 167, 186 Balsamo, Gian, 13 Cavendish, Lord Frederick, 59 Bandmann-Palmer, Millicent, 64, Celtic Revival, 92, 97, 100, 124 73, 111 Cerf, Bennet, 4 Barnacle, Nora, 84, 92, 136 Cervantes, Miguel de, 92 Barrington, Sir Jonah, 169 Chapman, George, 105, 235n17 Baudelaire, Charles, 174 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 104, 235n15 Beach, Sylvia, 94, 145, 213 Cheng, Vincent, 10 Beckett, Samuel, 12, 182, 241n14 Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 120 Bérard, Victor, 6–7, 9, 23 Commediaa (Dante). See Divine Best, Richard Irving, 81, 86, 92, Comedy, The 94, 98 Confessions of an English Opium Blamires, Harry, 8 Eater (De Quincey), 52 Blanchot, Maurice, 12 Convivioo (Dante), 172 Bland, Sydney, 74 Croce, Benedetto, 181–83, 241n9 Boer War, 66, 90, 210 Cusack, Michael, 2, 166 250 Index

Cymbelinee (Shakespeare), 14, 38, Eglinton, John. Seee Magee, William 75, 94–101, 109 Kirkpatrick Eliot, T. S., 1, 5–6, 7, 13, 70 Daedalus, 16, 26, 33, 36, 37, 39, Ellis, Havelock, 117 116, 205 Ellmann, Maud, 10–11 Damon, S. Foster, 13 Ellmann, Richard, 6, 8, 10, 179, “Dante . . . Bruno. Vico . . . Joyce” 213, 238n10, 241n9 (Beckett), 12, 182 Emmet, Robert, 41, 107, 108, 168, Dasenbrock, Reed Way, 180, 181, 191, 193 238n9, 241n11, 241n14 Epiphany, 19, 174, 201 Deirdree (AE), 97 Euripides, 23 De Quincey, Thomas, 52 Exiless (Joyce), 27, 72, 85, 91, 94, Devorgilla, 21 139, 225–27 Dineen, Father Patrick, 94 Divided Irish, Thee (Canning), 101 Fenianism, 167 Divine Comedy, Thee (Dante), 11, Finnegans Wakee (Joyce), 10, 12, 13, 12, 13, 14, 127, 128, 134–44, 120, 178–79, 182 145, 146, 151, 152, 153, 154, Fitzgerald, Lord Edward, 108 163–64, 172–73, 174, 175, Fitzgerald, Robert, 46, 76, 223 178, 182, 231n27, 239n23. Fitzharris, James, 57, 59, 207 See also Inferno, Purgatorio, Fraser, Jennifer, 12–13 and Paradiso Freud, Sigmund, 70, 114, 178 Don Quixotee (Cervantes), 92 Dowden, Edward, 94 Gaelic Athletic Association, 166 Doyle, J. C., 60 Gaelic League, 166, 202 Dream Play, Thee (Strindberg), 110 Genesis, 16, 113 Dubliners (Joyce), 59, 93, 130–34, Ghezzi, Father Charles, 121 135, 139, 160, 168, 206, 227, Ghibelline Party, 164, 239n22 236n20, 237n6, 237n7 Gibson, Andrew, 10, 229n7, 234n2 “Boarding House, A,” 133 Gifford, Don, 145 “Counterparts,” 133 Gilbert, Stuart, 4, 6–7, 44, 145, 213 “Dead, The,” 131 Giordano Brunoo (MacIntyre), 120 “Encounter, An,” 132–33 Gogarty, Oliver St. John, 129 “Grace,” 134, 168, 239n30 Griffith, Arthur, 165–66 “Mother, A,” 133 Guelph Party, 164, 239n22 “Painful Case, A,” 236n20 “Sisters, The,” 131, 132, 133, Hamlett (Shakespeare), 11, 14, 36, 237n6 73–82, 93, 98, 99, 109, 112, “Two Gallants,” 59, 133, 135, 113, 114, 128, 160, 169 206 Harris, Frank, 9 Dujardin, Édouard, 178 Hathaway, Ann, 3, 36, 37, 75, 78, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 125, Easter Rising, 167 144, 147, 150, 160, 198 Eco, Umberto, 145 Hayman, David, 151 Edward VII, 161, 206 Helenn (Euripides), 23 Index 251

Henry II, 21, 59, 126 Joyce, Stanislaus, 103, 129, 134, Heraclitus, 120 233n18, 240n1 Herodotus, 23 History of English Prose Rhythms Kiberd, Declan, 11, 231n1 (Saintsbury), 50 King Learr (Shakespeare), 83, 96 Hobson, Bulmer, 165 Kock, Charles-Paul de, 68 Homer, 1–9, 1–35, 11, 13, 14, 37, 40, 42–54, 57–58, 60–72, 73, Lamb, Charles, 47, 54–55, 56 75–76, 81, 86–87, 97, 103–4, Lang, Andrew, 44–45 105, 106, 107, 108, 112, 127, Larbaud, Valéry, 4, 5, 7, 13, 145 128, 135, 136, 143, 144, 145, Latini, Brunetto, 130, 132, 169–70 146, 148, 152, 163, 172, 175, Leah the Forsakenn (Mosenthal), 64, 176, 177, 178, 180, 181, 182, 73, 111, 209 183, 214, 223–24, 229n7, Lee, Sidney, 9 230n15, 230n16, 232n3, “Legend of Sleepy Hollow, The” 233n15, 233n19 (Irving), 49 Home Rule, 30, 101 Levin, Harry, 7 Homme qui rit, L’’ (Hugo), 162 Lewis, Wyndham, 155 Hugo, Victor, 162 Litz, A. Walton, 179 Huguenots, Less (Meyerbeer), 117 Love’s Labour Lostt (Shakespeare), 171 Ibsen, Henrik, 129, 225 Lyster, Thomas W., 81, 92, 94, 98, Iliadd (Homer), 61, 103, 104, 182, 190 235n15 Infernoo (Dante), 3–4, 11, 126, 127, MacCormack, John, 60 128, 130, 131–39, 146, 147, MacIntyre, J. Lewis, 120 149, 150, 151, 152, 154, 163, MacMurrough, Dermot, 20 164, 170, 183, 238n14 Madame Bovaryy (Flaubert), 72, 226 Irish Homestead, The, 131, 190 Magee, William Kirkpatrick (John Irish Republican Army, 167 Eglinton), 81, 82, 92, 94, 98, Irving, Washington, 49 119, 169, 170, 190 Mallarmé, Stéphane, 12, 13 Joyce, James, 1–7, 14, 23, 27, 32, Marcello, Benedetto, 121, 122 36, 38, 41, 44, 46, 48, 50, Martyn, Edward, 92 54–55, 66–67, 70, 71, 72, 83, Marx, Karl, 29, 232n7 84–85, 86, 91, 92, 93–94, Measure for Measuree (Shakespeare), 100–101, 102, 103, 106, 108, 113 110, 114, 120, 121, 129, 130, Medievalism, 2, 11, 13, 123, 128, 131, 133, 134, 136, 139, 140, 133–34, 136, 145, 147, 144, 145, 146, 151, 153, 160, 169–70, 172, 173, 174, 176, 162, 169, 177, 179, 182, 183, 196, 231n31, 235n15, 238n9 195, 209–10, 213, 226–27, Méliès, Georges, 110 229n3, 232n10, 233n18, Meredith, George, 158 234n24, 236n20, 237n7, Metaphysicss (Aristotle), 152 241n9, passim Metchnikoff, Ilya, 118 252 Index

Meyerbeer, Giacomo, 117 Philosophy of Giambattista Vico Monnier, Adrienne, 4 (Croce), 181, 241n9 Moore, George, 15, 92, 94, 190, Physicss (Aristotle), 153 198 Poeticss (Aristotle), 2, 136, 153 Moreau, Gustave, 97 Portinari, Beatrice, 134, 137, 139, Much Ado about Nothing 141, 142, 143, 144, 146, 147, (Shakespeare), 113 151, 238n10 “Portrait of Mr. W. H., The” Nicomachean Ethicss (Aristotle), 128 (Wilde), 86 Noah, 16 Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, A (Joyce), 9, 16, 19, 66, 93, 99, O’Brien, William Smith, 30 116, 129, 139, 145, 204 O’Connell, Daniel, 30, 31, 157, Pound, Ezra, 5, 6, 7, 13, 145, 146 166, 167, 219 Purgatorioo (Dante), 128, 137, 138, Odysseus, 1, 2, 3, 6–7, 8, 9, 15–16, 139, 152, 154, 171 17, 18, 20, 21, 24–33, 35–40, 43–44, 46–49, 52–59, 61–62, Resurrection of Hungary: A Parallel 64–72, 76, 77, 81, 87, 89, for Ireland, Thee (Griffith), 165 95, 104, 106, 107, 108, 116, Reynolds, Mary, 10, 11–12, 130, 122, 125, 127, 128, 136, 145, 237n4, 238n13, 241n8 139, 143, 144, 176, 177, Richard IIII (Shakespeare), 83 233n19 “Rip van Winkle” (Irving), 49, 58 Odysseyy (Homer), 2, 4–9, 14, 15, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 23, 78, 80, 17–18, 20, 22–25, 27–28, 161 30–31, 33, 35, 38, 40, 43–50, Russell, George (AE), 81, 92, 93, 52–59, 61–62, 64–65, 69, 94, 96, 97, 98, 100, 131, 189, 71, 75, 76, 77, 81, 89, 105, 190, 203 106, 125, 127, 143, 148, 172, 175, 176, 177, 182, 223–24, Sade, Marquis de, 29, 232n7 233n19 Saintsbury, George, 50 O’Rourke, Tiernan, 20, 21 Schutte, William M., 9–10, 11, 12, O’Shea, Katherine, 21, 166, 207, 234n9 218 Scienzia nuovaa (Vico), 179–82, O’Shea, William Henry, 21 241n11, 241n14 Othelloo (Shakespeare), 98, 114, 204, Seidel, Michael, 8–9 226 Shakespeare, William, 1–4, 9–11, 13–14, 17, 19, 35–38, 42, Paradisoo (Dante), 12, 13, 139, 51, 69, 72, 73–79, 81–87, 140–43, 149, 150, 152, 154, 91–109, 112–21, 123–26, 127, 238n9, 238n10 128, 139, 143, 144, 145, 146, Parnell, Charles Stewart, 21, 30–31, 150, 156, 159, 160, 162, 169, 59, 60, 101, 157, 166, 167, 170, 171, 175, 176, 177, 178, 189, 207, 219 181, 182, 183, 190, 198, 204, Peake, C. H., 8 217, 220, 226, 227, 238n2, Phéniciens et l’Odyssée, Less (Bérard), 6 235n15, 235n17 Index 253

Shakespeare and Company, 94 238n10, 239n29, 239n30, Shakespeare Studied in Eight Plays 240n1, 241n9, 241n11, passim (Canning), 100–101 “Aeolus,” 31–33, 34, 59, 67, 68, Sheares, Henry, 107, 108 95, 100, 148–51, 178, 189, Sheares, John, 107, 108 190, 214, 215, 216, 217, Sinbad the Sailor, 65, 110, 140, 209 219, 223, 224, 241n11 Sinn Féin, 165, 166, 167, 193 “Calypso,” 25–28, 29, 56, 57, Slote, Sam, 12 67–68, 187, 214, 215, 216, Stephen Heroo (Joyce), 9, 19, 129, 217, 218, 223, 224 130, 132, 174, 237n7 “Circe,” 52, 53–56, 63, 69, 70, Stephens, James, 92 79, 81, 88, 97, 109–26, 128, Strindberg, August, 110 134, 163, 172, 178, 201–7, Swedenborg, Emmanuel, 174 214, 215, 216, 217, 221, 223, 224, 231n1, 236n18, Talbot of Malahide, Lord, 59 236n19, 236n21, 236n22, Tandy, Napper, 108 241n9 Taylor, John F., 94, 95, 100, 189, “Cyclops,” 2, 8, 18, 42–45, 46, 241n11 57, 60, 69, 70, 75, 102–9, Tempest, Thee (Shakespeare), 85, 113, 165, 176, 177, 180, 183, 171 193–94, 214, 215, 216, 217, Tennyson, Alfred Lord, 15 220, 223, 224, 230n15 Tindall, William York, 7–8 “Eumaeus,” 56–61, 62, 70, 71, Tone, Theobold Wolf, 107, 108 107, 123, 134–37, 141, 179, Troilus and Cressidaa (Shakespeare), 206–7, 214, 215, 216, 217, 14, 75, 102–9, 235n15, 221, 223, 224 235n17 “Hades,” 28, 30–31, 60, 68, 69, Troilus and Criseydee (Chaucer), 104, 116, 167, 178, 179, 188–89, 235n15 214, 215, 216, 217, 219, Turko the Terrible, 110 223, 224, 236n20 Twelfth Nightt (Shakespeare), 85 “Ithaca,” 61–63, 64, 65, 71, 87, 88, 119, 123, 134, 137–38, Ulyssess (Joyce), 1–14, 15–18, 22, 140, 146, 166, 171–72, 174, 24, 27, 28, 30, 32, 33, 38, 39, 207–9, 214, 215, 216, 217, 52, 53, 54, 57, 59, 64, 66–67, 221, 223, 224 72, 73, 75, 77, 78, 81, 84, 85, “Lestrygonians,” 33–35, 68, 117, 86, 87, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 119, 189–90, 214, 215, 216, 98, 100, 102, 105, 109, 110, 217, 219, 223, 224 113, 117, 118, 119, 121, 122, “Lotus Eaters,” 18, 28–30, 68, 124–25, 126, 127–29, 134–63, 93, 187–88, 214, 215, 216, 164, 168–71, 172–73, 175–76, 217, 218, 223, 224 177–83, 183–211, 213–21, “Nausikaa,” 39, 45–49, 52, 54, 223–24, 225, 226, 227, 229n7, 69, 70, 71, 80, 178, 194–95, 230n14, 231n1, 232n3, 206, 214, 215, 216, 217, 234n2, 234n4, 236n19, 218, 220, 223, 224, 236n20, 236n22, 238n9, 230n15 254 Index

Ulyssess (Joyce), (continued) “Telemachus,” 15–17, 18–20, “Nestor,” 20–22, 67, 71, 175, 22, 27, 38, 57, 58, 59, 60, 176, 179, 185, 214, 215, 67, 71, 77, 78, 93, 174, 216, 217, 218, 223, 240n3 185, 214, 215, 216, 217, “Oxen of the Sun,” 18, 49–53, 218, 223, 224 54, 69, 70, 116, 195–201, “Wandering Rocks,” 18, 37–40, 214, 215, 216, 217, 221, 42, 59, 69, 84, 116, 191–92, 223, 224 214, 215, 216, 217, 220, “Penelope,” 64–67, 71, 134, 223, 224 139, 140–43, 209–11, 214, United Irishman, The, 165 215, 216, 217, 221, 223, 224 Venus and Adoniss (Shakespeare), “Proteus,” 22–25, 26, 57, 67, 82 71, 78, 112, 149, 167, Vergil, 13, 127, 164, 237n1 186–87, 209, 214, 215, 216, Vico, Giambattista, 10, 178–83, 217, 218, 223, 224, 230n15 240n3, 241n8, 241n9 “Scylla and Charybdis,” 10, 18, Volta Cinema, 110 35–37, 38, 42, 68, 81, 83, Voyage to the Moonn (Méliès), 110 96–97, 100, 102, 103, 109, 112, 178, 190–91, 214, 215, Waste Land, Thee (Eliot), 5, 70 216, 217, 220, 223, 224 Weaver, Harriet Shaw, 120 “Sirens,” 18, 40–42, 48, 57, 69, Wilde, Oscar, 86, 187 70, 126, 151, 192–93, 203, Wilson, Margaret, 73 204, 214, 215, 216, 217, Wisdom of the Ancients, Thee (Bacon), 220, 223, 224, 230n15 36, 232n8