Read as far as "Nice adviser!" (Penguin 577.21), (Gabler 15.554)
But first things first! Last week, the 13th of January was the 75th death anniversary of James Joyce. To mark the day quite a few articles were published in various newspapers.
Sian Cain, writing in The Guardian asked, 'Is James Joyce's Ulysses the hardest novel to finish?'
Angela Schader of NZZ had a fitting reply to Cain's article in ' Lesefrust start Leselust?'
If you are tempted some day to join the Finnegans Wake reading group either on Mondays or on Thursdays at the Foundation, you would do well to read the following article from The Irish Times, republished on 13th January 2016:
'Endlessly exciting in its impenetrability': 1939 James Joyce review
The Guardian also had a link to Finnegans Wake:
Billy Mills: Finnegans Wake, The book the web was invented for
Now back to Joyce's Circe!
The show place of the episode is the nighttown. At the end of the last episode, Oxen of the Sun, Stephen and Lynch had gone off together in search of a bawdyhouse. As Stephen, looking like a Protestant minister in his black garb, starts chanting portions of a mass, an elderly bawd (a brothel-keeper) tries to attract their attention. (Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead inside. Sst!)
Meanwhile, Bloom also reaches the nightgown, appearing flushed, panting, cramming bread and chocolate into a side pocket. Soon he has two more parcels in his hand, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen, the other a cold sheep's trotter, sprinkled with wholepepper. Bloom is actually on the look out for Stephen. During his quest, Bloom's imagination runs riot. (Joyce uses hallucination as the basis of this episode.) Accordingly inanimate things become animated (the lemon soap in Bloom's pocket bursts out into a song: 'We're a capital couple are Bloom and I' / page 571), people who are long dead (Bloom's parents, Rudolf and Ellen) as well as people whom we had met on earlier pages (Molly, Mrs Breen, Denise Breen, Alf Bergen, Richie Golding, Pat, the waiter at Ormond hotel, Sweny, the pharmacist, ... ) make appearances, sometimes for a very short period. Animals also have their place, changing their nature/shapes (a dog appears often but every time it appears, it has a different incarnation; it is a liver and white spaniel on the prowl on page 564, a sniffing retriever on page 568, a sniffing terrier on page 571). (All page numbers refer to the Penguin edition.)
In short, the episode has a dream like quality in which reality and common sense take a back seat. The scenes change as each person (dead or alive) appears. This happens in quite quick succession. Joyce describes in minute detail how each of these characters are dressed. Pay attention to, for example, how the appearances of Ellen Bloom (Penguin 569.31) and Molly (Penguin 570.13) are described. Bloom also appears in different dresses and hats: a smart blue Oxford suit and a brown Alpine hat when he is hallucinating about his father, Rudolf (Penguin 569.18); when he first imagines talking to Mrs Breen, he is in a dinner jacket (Penguin 574.23), soon is wearing a purple Napoleon hat with an amber halfmoon (Penguin 575.4), and an oatmeal sporting suit and a grey billycock hat (Penguin 577.5). It is all very cinematic, very much like the script of a play. Thus this episode must be read with great care, not worrying about what is real and what is not!
It is also interesting to note how Bloom reacts to the various people whom he imagines. When his father, Rudolf, appears, Bloom regresses to his youth. His father scolds him, and says: 'how one night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your good money... and what nice spectacles (from German, Spektakel) for your poor mother!' The reference to poor mother triggers the appearance of Ellen Bloom, crying out, '... My smelling salts!' Her taking the name of Mary is the cue for the appearance of Marion i.e., Molly. As Bloom tries to explain to Molly about going to the pharmacy and collecting that lotion, orangeflower water, Sweny, the pharmacist makes an appearance. The reference to the word Voglio hinting the word Vorrei from the aria of Don Giovanni brings Gerty MacDowell of the Nausicaa episode into the picture. As in that episode, Gerty is still dreaming of getting married. As Gerty slides away, Mrs Breen appears. Bloom was courting her long time ago ('Twas I sent you that valentine of the dear gazelle/ Penguin 574.9). Here he asks her: 'Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a fraction of a second?' (Penguin 574.3). Her husband, Dennis Breen is there too and close behind him Alf Bergen, who had sent a postcard saying 'U. p: Up' to Mr Breen. And so it goes on...
But first things first! Last week, the 13th of January was the 75th death anniversary of James Joyce. To mark the day quite a few articles were published in various newspapers.
Sian Cain, writing in The Guardian asked, 'Is James Joyce's Ulysses the hardest novel to finish?'
Angela Schader of NZZ had a fitting reply to Cain's article in ' Lesefrust start Leselust?'
If you are tempted some day to join the Finnegans Wake reading group either on Mondays or on Thursdays at the Foundation, you would do well to read the following article from The Irish Times, republished on 13th January 2016:
'Endlessly exciting in its impenetrability': 1939 James Joyce review
The Guardian also had a link to Finnegans Wake:
Billy Mills: Finnegans Wake, The book the web was invented for
Now back to Joyce's Circe!
The show place of the episode is the nighttown. At the end of the last episode, Oxen of the Sun, Stephen and Lynch had gone off together in search of a bawdyhouse. As Stephen, looking like a Protestant minister in his black garb, starts chanting portions of a mass, an elderly bawd (a brothel-keeper) tries to attract their attention. (Sst! Come here till I tell you. Maidenhead inside. Sst!)
Meanwhile, Bloom also reaches the nightgown, appearing flushed, panting, cramming bread and chocolate into a side pocket. Soon he has two more parcels in his hand, one containing a lukewarm pig's crubeen, the other a cold sheep's trotter, sprinkled with wholepepper. Bloom is actually on the look out for Stephen. During his quest, Bloom's imagination runs riot. (Joyce uses hallucination as the basis of this episode.) Accordingly inanimate things become animated (the lemon soap in Bloom's pocket bursts out into a song: 'We're a capital couple are Bloom and I' / page 571), people who are long dead (Bloom's parents, Rudolf and Ellen) as well as people whom we had met on earlier pages (Molly, Mrs Breen, Denise Breen, Alf Bergen, Richie Golding, Pat, the waiter at Ormond hotel, Sweny, the pharmacist, ... ) make appearances, sometimes for a very short period. Animals also have their place, changing their nature/shapes (a dog appears often but every time it appears, it has a different incarnation; it is a liver and white spaniel on the prowl on page 564, a sniffing retriever on page 568, a sniffing terrier on page 571). (All page numbers refer to the Penguin edition.)
 |
| (Daumier Honore: Caricature of hallucinating physician) |
It is also interesting to note how Bloom reacts to the various people whom he imagines. When his father, Rudolf, appears, Bloom regresses to his youth. His father scolds him, and says: 'how one night they bring you home drunk as dog after spend your good money... and what nice spectacles (from German, Spektakel) for your poor mother!' The reference to poor mother triggers the appearance of Ellen Bloom, crying out, '... My smelling salts!' Her taking the name of Mary is the cue for the appearance of Marion i.e., Molly. As Bloom tries to explain to Molly about going to the pharmacy and collecting that lotion, orangeflower water, Sweny, the pharmacist makes an appearance. The reference to the word Voglio hinting the word Vorrei from the aria of Don Giovanni brings Gerty MacDowell of the Nausicaa episode into the picture. As in that episode, Gerty is still dreaming of getting married. As Gerty slides away, Mrs Breen appears. Bloom was courting her long time ago ('Twas I sent you that valentine of the dear gazelle/ Penguin 574.9). Here he asks her: 'Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a fraction of a second?' (Penguin 574.3). Her husband, Dennis Breen is there too and close behind him Alf Bergen, who had sent a postcard saying 'U. p: Up' to Mr Breen. And so it goes on...
