Tuesday, 25 March 2014, Pages 901 - 908, Penelope, Episode 18

Stopped at "... do him all the good in the world...". Gabler (18.963), Penguin (908.15)

Molly is reminiscing about Mulvey from whom she learnt what kissing meant, and to whom she had told - for fun - that she was engaged (to be married in 3 years) to the son of a Spanish nobleman named Don Miguel de La Flora. (Well, if she did not marry La Flora, she did end up marrying Bloom: Flora, Bloom, Flower... there is a flower that bloometh...). Molly had taught Mulvey (who said that he was from Cappoquin, a small town on the River Black water in Ireland) how to count the pesetas and the perragordas, and all about the old Barbary apes. She thinks of the time they spent one day in May, on the day before he left, laying over the firtree cove, when she was wearing a white blouse that she had opened in the front to encourage him. Encouraged he certainly was, because she remembers that he wanted to touch mine with his for a moment which she wouldnt let him do. Ines, the old servant, had warned her that one drop even if it got into you at all, it would get you with a child embrazada. There follows in her thoughts quite a detailed description of their adventure together though lying in her bed now, Molly, who is not even sure of his name - Jack? Joe? Harry? - wonders about his age (about 40 perhaps), whether hes married some girl on the black water (his town in Ireland). She knows that she was a bit wild, and did things that the old Bishop preaching about womans higher functions would not approve. Not that she would mind as she thinks, God send him sense and me me more money!

Molly's thoughts turn to being Mrs. Bloom. She used to write it in print to see how it looked on a visiting card. In any case having Bloom as the last name is better than having Breen (Bloom had told her about meeting Mrs. Breen before he fell asleep) or Brigs or even Ramsbottom. Even Mulvey as a last name is not something she would be happy about.  All these names turn her thoughts to her mother, who had such a lovely name: Lunita Laredo ("Little moon" of Laredo; 18.282, Gifford), and with whom she had fun running along Williss road to Europa Point (the southern tip of Gibraltar).

Mulvey's memories return. Molly would have wanted to give him a memento. He had given her a Claddagh ring for luck. She had given this pure 18 carrot gold ring to Gardner, who had a mustache (Mulvey was cleanshaven), and who later died of enteric fever in South Africa.

Image source: http://galwaycity.galway-ireland.ie/claddagh-ring.htm

The sound of the train interrupts the flow of thoughts again. That weeping tone leads Molly to think of Love's Old Sweet Song, one of the songs she had rehearsed the previous afternoon with Boylan. Singing, music, concerts, remind Molly of her competitors, a lot of squealers. Molly obviously has little 'respect' regarding these Irish homemade beauties, because she knew more about men and life when she was 15 than theyll all know at 50.

Molly's feeling some wind inside - just as Bloom did at the end of Sirens, chapter 11 - makes her wish for even a bath, her own room, or at least own bed, so that she would not feel his cold feet on her. Her thoughts alternate for a while between songs, singing techniques, whatever caused the wind - (if that pork chop I took with my cup of tea after was quite good), and winter in Gibraltar, where that fellow opposite used to be there the whole time watching (Molly hopping around in her room in her skin) with the lights out.

All these memories, jumbling inside her brain, lead her away from any hope of sleep. Her thoughts return to Bloom, and his giving orders for eggs and tea and Findon hardy and hot buttered toast. Actually we did not read at the end of the previous chapter that Bloom told Molly to bring breakfast in the morning, though this chapter started with Molly thinking he never did a thing like that before. She in fact loves to hear him falling up the stairs of a morning with the cups rattling on the tray. We have come a full circle almost. The previous morning Bloom had brought her breakfast in bed, had played with the cat in the kitchen. Like Bloom (Calypso, chapter 4) Molly wonders do they (cats) see anything that we cant.

Tuesday, 18 March 2014, Pages 893 - 901, Penelope, Episode 18

We read as far as, ".. theres many a true word spoken in jest...." Gabler (18.775), Penguin (901.8)

The thought of Bloom's teeth marks on her nipple reminds Molly when she was feeding Milly, she had enough milk for two, a fact which had led Bloom to suggest (jokingly? seriously?) that she could earn a pound a week as a wet nurse! When Milly had to be weaned, Molly had made Bloom suck the milk (otherwise the breasts were too painful). Bloom had found that Molly's milk was sweeter and thicker than that of a cow. These comments of Bloom are recalled with fondness, as Molly thinks that if she could only remember half of the things, she would write a book out of it the works of Master Poldy.

Feeling all fire inside, Molly relives her lovemaking with Boylan, wishing that he or somebody were there to let herself go with... O Lord I can't wait till Monday (when Boylan most probably returns for another rendezvous) ... The whistling sound of train makes Molly think of the poor men that have to be out all the night from their wives and families in those roasting engines. In this she comes across as quite a sympathetic person, caring, like Bloom, for people in unenviable situations. Her thoughts move on. To how hot the day was, how lovely and refreshing the rain that came was (See, Oxen of the Sun), just as she was thinking it could get as hot as in Gibraltar, where the Sun was so hot and one got so soaked (in sweat) that it faded all that lovely frock(s). Her father's friend, Mrs. Stanhope had sent her one such frock from Paris, and had written a p c (a post card) too. Mr. Stanhope was awfully fond of Molly and used to break his heart at her.  He was attractive to a girl in spite of his being a little bald...  Mrs. Stanhope had given her books to read: Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, East Lynne by Mrs Henry Wood, Henry Dunbar by that other woman (Molly forgets the author's - Mary Elizabeth Braddon's -  name). Molly had given the book to him (Mr. Stanhope?) with a photo of Mulvey, her first boy friend, to show that she indeed had someone. Whatever had happened to them in the mean time? Were they no more?

It was very dull in Gibraltar for Molly after the Stanhopes left. The days passed like years. She received not a letter from a living soul. It is not any better now. Molly is obviously quite lonely. How she wishes for some interesting encounters! She has no visitors or post ever except for cheques or some advertisements like that wonderworker that Bloom had received. (See, Ithaca). Even Milly sent her just a card. The last letter she herself had received (but for the one from Boylan received previous morning) was from Mrs Dwenn, who had written from Canada to ask for the recipe of pisto madrileno and from Floey Dillon, who wrote to say she was married to a very rich architect. Thinking of Floey makes Molly recall the death of Nancy Blake, a friend of Floey, and the problems related to writing letters. Apparently spelling is not a strong point of Molly. Bloom keeps on pointing to her the mistakes in her writing; for example, no stops. (Just as in her flow of thoughts, Molly's writing seem to lack punctuations!) Though Boylan had in fact sent her a letter, it wasnt much. She thinks, perhaps I could write the answer in bed to let him imagine me (in bed?). In any case she would use just a few simple words which one could twist how one liked.

Molveys was the first (letter she ever received?), that Mrs Rubio brought in when she (Molly) was in bed. Molly carried the letter inside her petticoat bodice all day reading it up in every hole and corner while her father was up at the drill instructing...

Thus these pages portray a Molly, who is lonely, is starved for companionship, for attention, and perhaps for some admiration.

A footnote:

Molly at one point thinks of "crossed letters". For those wondering what they are, a crossed letter is one  which contains two sets of writing on one page, one written over the other at right angles. Here's an example:

Tuesday, 11 March 2014, Pages 886 - 893, Penelope, Episode 18

Stopped reading at "... arent they fearful trying to hurt you...". (Gabler 18.570) (Penguin p. 893.13)

Last week we had left Molly thinking of Stanley Gardner, who had died of enteric fever, who was such a lovely fellow. She thinks now (lancers O the lancers) of how she loves to see a regiment like the Black Watch, a distinguished regiment of Scottish infantry (Gifford, 18.400) that she had seen at La Roque. Thoughts of cavalry lead her to think again of Boylan, whose father was supposed to have made his money by selling the same horses twice to the cavalry. So Boylan must be quite rich, and Molly forges plans of how to put that money to good use. She could, for example, make him buy her linen and one of those nice kimonos in Belfast ("... it would be exciting going round with him shopping buying those things in a new city...). As he has plenty of money and is not a marrying man, it is as well if Molly gets some (money) out of him.

Molly thinks of her love making with Boylan (... hes heavy too...), and how she would prefer if he put it from behind the way Mrs Mastiansky said her husband does it. That afternoon, stylishly dressed Boylan was in blazing anger when he read in the stoppress that he had lost twenty quids by betting on the wrong horse, following the tip given by Lenehan. (This horse race and the fact that Throwaway, an outsider horse, had won the race, has accompanied us since chapter 8.) The name Lenehan acts like a cue to remember the Glencree dinner, (Nausicaa, chapter 13)  and how he (Lenehan) was making free with her, and how too the lord Mayor was looking at her. The thoughts of the fine linen in Belfast have not left Molly. She would like to have at least two other good chemises and one of those kidfitting corsets, as they are praised in their advertisements that they give a delightful figure. Unlike Bloom whom she considers quite frugal and careful with money, Molly wishes that she could be a bit more free in spending (... I always want to throw a handful of tea into the pot...). With her three dresses and old hat, she knows that not only men wont look at her but women also try to walk on her.

She will be 33 in September. Women at that time seem to age fast. Like Mrs. Galbraith, who was much older than Molly, who had a magnificent head of hair that she used to toss back like Kitty OShea, but whose beautys on the wane. What about that Mrs Langtry, whose jealous husband is said to have made her wear a kind of tin thing (a chastity belt), something that is as "true" as the things (such as drinking the champagne out of her slipper after the ball was over) in some of the books that Bloom brings for her. She wishes that Bloom would chuck Freeman and would go into an office or something where hed get regular pay, and would even smoke a pipe like father to get the smell of a man... Shopping is still on Molly's mind. She thinks of one such event where she went shopping with Bloom, who thinks he knows a great lot about a womans dress.

At this point, Molly's musings get quite explicit. She thinks of her breasts in particular and breasts in general (... curious the way its made 2 the same in case of twins theyre supposed to represent beauty...). She thinks of the breasts of those (Greek) statues in the museum (where Bloom had gone in the afternoon to examine their rear parts! See Lestrygonians, chapter 8). In any case, it is obvious that Molly does not care much for the anatomy of the male (... they hide it with a cabbageleaf...). And she thinks of the dirty bitch in the Spanish photo Bloom has in his drawers (See Ithaca, chapter 17).  Her thoughts remain with Bloom, who can never explain a thing simply the way a body can understand (met something with  hoses in it; see Calypso, chapter 4), and burns the bottom out of the pan cooking kidney, whose tooth mark is still on her nipples...

Tuesday, 4 March 2014, Pages 880 - 886, Penelope, Episode 18

Stopped today at, "... it wouldnt have been so bad..."   Gabler (18.397), Penguin (886.25)

Molly is still awake. The thoughts that keep her awake (her neurons that are firing furiously ;-)) enable us to have glimpses of her previous lovers, the period of courtship with Bloom, her affair with Boylan, peculiar fixations of Bloom (drawers), Boylan (feet) etc.

She remembers sitting in D B C (Dublin Bakery Company) with Bloom, having ordered 2 teas and plain bread and butter, laughing and trying to listen (to Bloom's explanations??) when she saw Boylan, who was sitting with his two old maids of sisters looking at her foot, which she was wagging, and which she herself does not like ("I don't like my foot so much", Penguin 881.18) This must have been the first time where the two felt mutual attraction, as Molly remembers of having gone back to D B C two days later hoping to meet Boylan again, a hope that was not fulfilled. This thought about her 'foot' (that attracted Boylan to her) triggers off memories of Bloom asking her once to take off her stockings (while lying on the hearthrug in front of a fire), and another time to walk in muddy boots in all the horse dung she could find. These unusual 'desires' of Bloom make her realize, perhaps once again, that hes not natural like the rest of the world.

Molly is reminded of not having paid much attention to what Bloom was then saying, as her attention had moved to the sight of the man with the curly hair, then to Bartell dArcy who had kissed her on the choir stairs, and whose name was not on Bloom's series of Molly's lovers (Penguin, 863), not having been told by Molly yet about this guy. One day Molly plans to surprise him with this information. It would be a surprise to Bloom as according to Molly Bloom thinks nothing can happen without him knowing when he hadnt an idea about her mother till we were engaged otherwise hed never have got me so cheap... (Not much is known in Ulysses about Molly's mother. Was Molly illegitimate? Is that why Bloom got her so cheap? And what exactly is meant here by 'getting so cheap?)

Molly's thoughts turn to  the days of her courtship with Bloom, how he had begged her to give him a tiny bit cut off from her drawers (drawers drawers the whole blessed time, Penguin 883. 6), how he wanted to enquire the shape of her bedroom, how he wanted to lift her orange petticoat on the road even though it was raining, and how she was dying to find out was he circumcised with him shaking like a jelly all over, the letters he wrote (similar to the letters Joyce wrote to Nora), the 8 big poppies he had sent (Molly's birthdate is 8th September), ...

Soon Boylan enters her thoughts with Molly hoping that hell (he will) come on Monday as he said at the same time (at four). Molly thinks how she hates people who come at all hours, like the messengerboy that afternoon through whom Boylan had sent (instead of coming himself) the port and peaches, which made Molly wonder whether it was a putoff.

Again Molly's thoughts switch from Boylan to Bloom, who was not Irish enough though she had the map of it all (that is, she has the map of Ireland all over her face: colloquial for 'it's obvious that she is Irish'; Gifford, 18.378)), who was a freemason, who was putting Lead Kindly Light to music, ...

Lead kindly light, amid the encircling gloom

Lead Thou me on

The night is dark, and I am far from home

Lead Thou me on

(Cardinal Newman, 1833)

Molly thinks again of Gardner, who was just the right height, and to whom, "I was lovely the evening we kissed goodbye at the canal lock...", and who died of enteric fever, reminding me of another literary figure, of Charles Hamilton in  Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind, published fourteen years after Ulysses!

Note: Many nice images translating Molly's musings in this chapter are available here!