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:
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:
