Tuesday, 26 May 2015, Pages 352 - 360, Sirens, Episode 11

Today we stopped at a nice sentence: "Sauce for the gander." (Penguin 360.30) (Gabler 11.877)

These pages are structured around Simon Dedalus singing the sad aria, "When first I saw that form endearing" from the opera, Martha, by Friedrich von Flotow.

(Photographed at the Joyce Center, Dublin on June 3, 2015)

Richie Goulding recognizes his brother-in-law's voice. The strained relationship between the two does not lessen his appreciation for Simon Dedalus's voice. Bloom asks Pat, the waiter, to set ajar the door of the bar.  They all listen, are moved by the words, by the singing. Simon Dedalus has become for them Lionel, the hero of the opera, Martha. Simon Dedalus has become for Bloom, Siopold: Si(mon) + Lionel + Leopold (Bloom).

Wishing that he could have seen the face of the singer, Bloom thinks of how the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I spoke his face in the glass. As he starts to play with an elastic band he was carrying in his pocket, Bloom begins to compose a reply to the letter he got that morning from Martha Clifford, thinks of the first time he saw Molly (playing musical chairs at Mat Dillon's in Tenenure), and thinks of the life of Simon Dedalus. (Silly man! Could have made oceans of money.... Wore out his wife: now sings.) Richie Goulding talks of one night long ago, saying, 'Never forget that night. Si sang 'Twas rank and fame: in Ned Lambert's 'twas." (An aria from the opera, The Rose of Castile.) Richie's comment that this is the grandest number in the whole opera, starts of Bloom's thoughts on numbers - Numbers it is. All music when you come to think, - though he knows that just numbers would fall quite flat, it's on account of the sounds it is (so moving).

Not only Bloom and Richie Goulding but all the others present at that time in the Hotel listen to, appreciate and applaud Simon Dedalus's singing. The thirsty ones continue to drink. Bronze and Gold continue to replenish the tankards. A little bit of flirting goes on.

An extension of this 'harmless' flirting is carried on to Bloom's asking bald Pat for a pen and ink to write a reply to Martha. Of course he cannot let Richie know what he is doing. So Bloom pretends that he is writing a business letter to the newspaper, Freeman's Journal. And writes: 'dear Mady. Got your lett(er) and flow(er).... It is utterl(y) imposs(ible) to write today.  So Bloom writes a reply just to say that it is utterly impossible to write! The letter's fragmented sentences are meant to echo musical motives. Though he writes to Martha, and even encloses a little present for her, he is not easy with the thought of what he is doing. (Folly am I writing? Husbands don't.) Still he comforts his conscience telling himself 'Sauce for the gander'. i.e., What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. If Molly has an affair, it is ok for Bloom to have one too. And Boylan is still jingling along to Eccles street 7.

(Source: http://affordablehousinginstitute.org/blogs/us/wp-content/uploads/sauce_for_gander.jpg)

At the end of the reading, we listened to a tenor (naturally not Simon Dedalus!) singing "When first I saw that form endearing." Read the lyrics here. Click on 'play music clip' in the link given to listen to the song. 

Tuesday, 12 May 2015, Pages 345 - 352, Sirens, Episode 11

IMPORTANT:
There will be no reading on Tuesday, 19 May 2015. We shall meet again on 26 May 2015.

Today we stopped as Simon Dedalus was singing "When first I saw that form endearing..."
(Penguin 352.26) Gabler (11.665)

Bronze-headed Miss Douce wonders pensively why Boylan departed so soon, when she obliged him with Sonnezlacloche.

Simon Dedalus and Father Cowley are with Ben Dollard, who is playing the piano in the Ormond hotel salon. The three are also reminiscing about a past incidence at which Goodwin, a piano teacher, was playing the piano not so well as Father Cowley puts it mildly, saying, 'There was a slight difference of opinion between himself and the Collard grand' (a middle-grade piano). Bloom had saved the situation that night by lending Ben a pair of trousers, albeit too tight a pair. Father Cowley recalls that they had to search all Holles street till they found out from a chap in Keogh's (a bar?) how to contact Bloom. (Gifford says in his Annotations that when they were living in Holles Street, Molly and Bloom collected and sold secondhand clothes and theatrical costumes; 11.487). Their talk moves to Molly, her looks, her parentage, ...

Bloom and Richie Goulding are having their dinner. Liver and bacon for Bloom, steak and kidney pie for Richie, served by bald (= deaf) Pat. Dinners fit for princes. Clean here at least, unlike at Burton's, which Bloom had entered earlier that day thinking of having lunch there and had left immediately afterwards seeing how unesthetically people were eating (episode 8). While having dinner, Bloom's thoughts turn to Molly and to his conversation with her that morning (Met him pike hoses, Paul de Kock, nice name he). By sheer coincidence (or did he hear the music from the salon and recognize the voices?), Bloom is also thinking of the night when he and Molly lent Dollard a dress suit for the concert. He (Bloom) recalls how Molly did laugh when he (Dollard) went out. Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, kicking. With all his belongings on show. Thoughts of Molly make Bloom remember again the day the two had spent on the Howth. (There is a very nice sentence here: 'We are their harps. I. He. Old. Young.' Is Bloom thinking of how women (Molly) play with men (like himself /old and like Boylan /young?)

Meanwhile Boylan's jingle jaunts down the quays. More customers enter the Ormond bar. Miss Kennedy serves two gentlemen with tankards of cool stout. Miss Douce, bows to suave solicitor, George Lidwell, gentleman, entering. (George Lidwell represented Joyce in the case regarding Dubliners. Obviously Lidwell was not a great help and ended up as a suave solicitor here.)

Urged by his friends to sing, Simon Dedalus declines at first. Father Cowley himself sings softly looking at a painting (a dusty seascape, motive of the Sirens) hanging there. He again urges Simon to sing, offering to accompany him at the piano. As they are discussing about the music, Boylan is still jaunting jingly; Bloom and Goulding are having dinner. (Steak, kidney, liver, mashed, at meat fit for princes sat princes Bloom and Goulding.) Ritchie Goulding whistles a tune (All is lost now) from Bellini's opera, Sonnambula. Simon Dedalus starts singing 'When first I saw that form endearing', a free translation of the aria, M'appari, from Flotow's opera, Martha.

Thus there is much music in this Sirens episode: songs, arie, references to musical instruments, fragments of sentences (Example: He saved the situa. Tight trou. Brilliant ide; Penguin 346.4) that resemble fragments of musical motives. 

Tuesday, 5 May 2015, Pages 336 - 345, Sirens, Episode 11

We read as far as "Jingle. Hear." (Penguin 345.4) (Gabler 11.458)

The major melodies (i.e., players) on these pages of this musical episode are Lenehan, Boylan, Simon Dedalus and Bloom. The sirens - bronze and gold - are of course present but play minor roles compared to the earlier pages.

Joyce has composed the episode with much thought and care. We have to read it with equal care if we want to decipher and understand what he is telling us. It is similar to listening to a symphony and being able to pick out individual instruments. One example is the following sentence: "Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought." (Penguin 339.12) This single sentence is composed of Bloom's interior monologue (when I was in Wisdom Hely's), of description of what Bloom is currently doing (Two sheets cream vellum paper ... two envelopes... Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought) and of echoes (Henry Flower, Hely's) from earlier episodes!

When we stopped our reading session last time, Miss Douce was trilling gaily. Just as she is singing, Lenehan walks in, looking for Boylan. Already in the previous episode, Boylan's secretary had informed her boss over the telephone that Lenehan had called and said, 'he'll be in the Ormond at four.' Lenehan is too small a fish to fry in the eyes of the two barmaids. The more he tries to get their attention, the cooler their reaction.  He even tries to tell them a story from Aesop's fables (albeit in a mixed up way) but no glance of Kennedy rewarding him he yet made overtures. Failing with his overtures addressed to the sirens, he turns to Simon Dedalus, telling him about Stefan and their meeting in the newspaper office (episode 7). Even father Dedalus does not pay much attention to Lenehan, and moves to the saloon door, where there is a piano, recently tuned by a blind tuner, most probably the same blind stripling we had met earlier in episodes 8 and 10.

Meanwhile, Bloom crossing the bridge of Yessex, remembers the letter he had received that morning from Martha, and decides to buy writing paper to send a reply. As he buys two sheets cream vellum paper from Daly's, he thinks of what Martha had written. And sees from the window of Daly's shop a gay hat riding on a jaunting car. It was the third time that day that he had caught glimpses of Boylan. Bloom is so disturbed at this coincidence that he has to be reminded by the shopgirl not to leave without paying for his purchases.

(Source: https://s3.amazonaws.com/joyceimages-images/thumb/small_What%20Oh%20Sawdust.JPG)

Boylan enters the Ormond bar, his smart tan shoes creaking on the barfloor, and is hailed by Lenehan - in his typical style - as the conquering hero. At this point of the episode, Joyce has introduced a great mixture of interior monologue (mostly Bloom's) with what is actually happening (mostly with Boylan). Bloom, the unconquered hero, wanting to hide from Boylan, follows Richie Goulding into the dining room of the Ormond, from where he can see, not be seen. Boylan offers a drink to Lenehan. After the two succeed in making Miss Douce do a small act, Sonnezlacloche!, Boylan leaves in a hurry, without really listening to why Lenehan wanted to meet him. As he leaves, Bloom heard a jing, a little sound. He thinks, 'He's off.' Light sob of breath Bloom signed on the silent bullhead flowers. Jingling. He's gone. Jingle. Hear. 

Tuesday, 28 April 2015, PART B, Pages 328 - 336, Sirens, Episode 11

PART B:

We stopped just as Miss Douce started to trill gaily: "O, Idolores, queen of the eastern seas!" (Penguin 336.28) (Gabler 11.226)

From the roads of Dublin we have moved to the inside of a bar.

Joyce not only gave the name 'Sirens' to the 11th episode of Ulysses but also defined 'music' as its art.

(Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Attic_black-figure_oenochoe,_Odysseus_resists_the_song_of_the_Sirens,_525-500_BC,_Altes_Museum_Berlin_(13718823364).jpg)

Music is present here in various forms; not only in the terminology, songs, choice of verbs etc used by Joyce but equally prominently in the structure of the episode.

The episode starts with 57 (Gifford counts 60 in his Annotations) fragments of sentences, not all complete (Penguin p. 328 to 330). According to Fritz Senn this part, serving as the introduction to the episode, is like the overture of a musical composition introducing motives that reoccur and can be recognized later. The concert hall is the bar of the Ormond hotel. The concert begins at 4 pm.

(Source: http://cpkeegan.blogspot.ch/2011/11/ormond-quay-hotel-place-of-sirens_4106.html)

The two sirens - bronze by gold (the barmaids, Miss Kennedy and Miss Douce) - appear at the very beginning of the episode. We have met them already in the previous one. They talk about the viceroy, his wife and others in the passing cavalcade. (... yes, sitting with his ex(celency), pearl grey and Eau de nil... Look at the fellow in the tall silk.) They are visited by the boots boy of the hotel bearing them a tray of china for their tea. There is a small altercation between the giggling girls and the boot boy, ending with the haughty bronze telling the boot: 'I'll complain to .... if I hear any more of your impertinent insolence.' These last two words (that appeared in the very first sentence of the episode) is turned by the boot boy to 'Imperthnthn thnthnthn'.  The barmaids discuss - laughing, giggling, yelling, shrieking, choking - whether or not Miss bronze is awfully sunburnt with Miss Kennedy suggesting remedies, and about the old fogey in Boyd's (wholesale druggists). Simon Dedalus walks in, exchanging pleasantries and flirting mildly with Miss Douce (He held her hand. Enjoyed her holidays?) He orders fresh water and a half glass of whisky. Miss Douce serves him, and polishing a tumbler, trills, 'O, Idolores, queen of the eastern seas!' from the musical comedy, Floradora.

It is not just motives from the beginning pages of the episode that are repeated on later pages, echoes of what we had seen/heard earlier are also repeated here. For example, we are told that Bloom (Bloowho) passes the hotel carrying the book, Sweets of Sin (episode 10). The word 'Jingle' appears more than once. We had heard it in episode 4 when the loose brass quoits of Molly's bedstead jingled. (Penguin 67.8) The challenge - and fun - is to recognize when these repetitions and echoes occur.