We stopped and dispersed at: "— Amen,
says the citizen" (Penguin p. 440) (Gabler 12.1674).
After having produced a big spit, in insult
to Bloom, the Citizen wipes himself with a handkerchief, of which we now get an
elaborate description. It is rendered both in mock imitation of the epic (the
most famous description of this kind is that of the shield of Achilles in the Iliad) and as a parody of a description
of Irish artworks or of Celtic art. The mere "handkerchief" (of
12.1434) is appreciated as the "intricately embroidered ancient Irish
facecloth" (12.1438). We had encountered a handkerchief earlier, in episode
1, where Mulligan pulls Stephen's dirty one out of his pocket, calls it
"the bard's noserag" and describes its colour as
"snotgreen" (1.73). Now we have an exaggeration of it.
We
find more exaggerations and sendups in the course of the episode: of foreign
customs (e.g. in the description of Zulu chiefs visiting England, the "delegation of the chief cotton magnates ... ", 12.1514), of the Bible (at
12.1534), and of types of fiction (Crafton's entering the Pub with Cunningham
and Wyse is rendered as an important arrival would be described in a historical
novel: "Ho, valet! ...", 12.1595).
Back
in the pub scene, Bloom continues his (rather serious) talk, seems more
forceful or infused with emotion than usual, gets himself a little embarrassed
and increasingly cornered (e.g. in his slightly jumbled talk about "love"
and "the opposite of hatred" (12.1485)) and finally chooses to find an
excuse to leave the pub. He is not a skilled speaker, clumsy with his cigar,
and not very focused. Indeed, the emphasis on now in his words, "And I belong to a race too, says Bloom, that is
hated and persecuted. Also now. This very moment. This very instant.", may
be indicative of where his focus really is (i.e. on the "now" of the
plot, the time when Boylan is visiting Molly) (12.1467).
The men continue with more talk of England's cruelty to Ireland,
until Lenehan takes the floor and starts talking about Bloom and his actual reason
for leaving the pub: He claims Bloom has left to pick up money he won at the
horserace and, to corroborate, tells the story of his encountering Bloom
earlier in the day and borrowing his newspaper. As we read in chapter 5, Bloom
had lent Lenehan the paper to have a quick look at something and then, probably
to get rid of him, offered to let him keep it, adding "I was going to
throw it away" (5.534). It is now that something comes together for us as
readers, which could not have made sense before. Bloom's 'You can keep it, I
was going to throw it away' (5.534, repeated at 5.537), and Lenehan's "I'll
risk it" (5.541) and running off contain a misunderstanding. Retrospectively
(and with an ideal memory) we are now able to tell what happened: Lenehan, who
is into betting, wants to look at the paper to read about the horserace. He knows
the horses' names, one of which is Throwaway. He mishears Bloom's words about
"going to throw it away", hearing a reference to Throwaway, and
misinterprets them as a hint for a bet. His answer "I'll risk it"
(i.e. to bet money on Throwaway), which could not make any sense either to
Bloom or to us when we were in chapter 5, becomes clear now. Cyclops then,
itself a chapter of misunderstandings (everything is hearsay, nothing is
straight fact), recalls the episode in Homer where Odysseus saved himself
through a play on words (calling himself "Outis", which means 'nobody')
and, ironically, works precisely as Bloom is
not doing a play on words.
At
(12.1561-72) we find an interlude, the narrator having taken off to the gents' room
("Goodbye Ireland I'm going to Gort ..."), is now urinating and talking
or thinking to himself again. His thoughts come out in spurts (which seems somewhat
appropriate to his relieving himself).
For
some reason, there seems to be something about Blooms the pub men find
irritating, as we can tell from the way they talk to him and about him. (Another
small link to the Odyssey Fritz Senn pointed out: Odysseus's name means
'somebody who makes people angry').
The
reading ended on the citizen's "Amen" and a general blessing to the round
of drinkers. True to type, the text will continue as if taking the "Bless
you all" at face value and hold forth a more extended blessing (in
imitation of a ceremonial church blessing). Next week, a blessing that extends
over more than a page is awaiting us, starting at 12.1666: "And at the sound of the sacring bell,
headed by a crucifer with acolytes, thurifers, boatbearers, readers, ostiarii,
deacons and subdeacons, …"
