Tuesday, 22 November 2016, Pages 900 - 906, Penelope, Episode 18

We stopped at the end of the fourth unpunctuated sentence of the episode at "... one more song"  (Penguin 906.10), (Gabler 18.908)
i.e., there are four more such sentences till we finish reading Ulysses.

Man, oh, man, are things getting here explicit! Molly's mind revolves on these pages mostly around Mulvey, her boy friend she knew in Gibraltar (... it never entered my head what kissing meant till he put his tongue in my mouth...), her leading him on (... I had that white blouse on open...) but not letting him (... I wouldn't let him touch me inside my petticoat..., I pulled him off into my handkerchief...),  his giving her that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that she gave Gardner (another boy friend) and so on.

Claddagh ring

Last week we had left Molly thinking how lonely she was (... I wish somebody would write me a love letter...). The word 'letter' acts as a cue to think of Mulvey. His was the first letter she had received. He had signed it an admirer. She had hidden it her her petticoat bodice all day reading it up in every hole, trying to find out (the hidden message?) by the handwriting or the language of stamps.

(Source: http://www.ipdastamps.org/languageofstampsEnglish.html)

From Mulvey she learnt what kissing meant. She had told him, 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 (the name should have been fig tree cave), 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. That is when she had pulled him off into her handkerchief. Ines, the old servant, had warned her that one drop even if it got into you at all, it would get you consumption* or leave 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 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).

Memories of Mulvey 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 moustache (Mulvey was cleanshaven), and who later died of enteric fever in South Africa.

The sound of the train interrupts her 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. She imagines how she would breath, form her lips, open/close eyes when she would sing that song. Singing, music, concerts, remind Molly of her competitors, a lot of squealers, students of Kathleen Kearney (the character in the Story, Mother, from Dubliners). 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 feels some wind inside, just as Bloom did at the end of Sirens, episode 11. It 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. As she was thinking of singing just then, she releases her wind in piano, piannisomo: sweeeee ... eee one more song!

* There are some beautiful confusions a la Molly here: Consumption (tuberculosis) instead of consummation (act of validation of marriage by sexual intercourse), 18 carrot gold (in some editions, the word has been corrected, obviously the editor did not understand Joyce's intention!) instead of 18 carats gold, Vatican instead of viaticum (Eucharist as given to dying person)!
(Page references in Penguin: 902.9, 904.31, 900.24 respectively.)

**Joyce has inserted quite a few songs on these pages: Shall I wear a white rose by H. Saville Clarke (lyrics here, audio here), My sweetheart when a boy by F. Enoch (lyrics here, audio here), Molly darling by Will S. Hays (lyrics here, audio here), My Lady Bower by F. E. Weatherly (lyrics here, audio here) and of course, Love's old sweet song by G. C. Bingham (lyrics here, audio here and here). 

Tuesday, 15 November 2016, Pages 893 - 900, Penelope, Episode 18

We stopped at "... bottom of the ashpit." (Penguin 900.6), (Gabler 18.747)
(Notice the full stop after ashpit? It is the very first full stop in this episode. There is one more. At the very end!)

On these pages, we are - rather Molly is - mainly concerned about three things: love making (... I feel all fire inside me...), her earlier life in Gibraltar (... its like all through a mist...), and her loneliness in Dublin (... I posted to myself with bits of paper in them so bored sometimes...).

At the start of our reading today, there was a remarkable stream of thoughts: ... this one not so much theres the mark of his teeth still where he tried to bite the nipple I had to scream out arent they fearful trying to hurt you.... Whose teeth? Who tried to bite...? Bloom or Boylan? Most probably it was Boylan and Molly must be thinking of her escapade with him that afternoon. But it could equally well be Bloom. Because she had just thought of how he burnt the kidney that morning, and the reference to 'bottom' (bottom out of the pan, Penguin 893. 10) could have made her remember how he had kissed her 'bottoms' just before falling asleep! In any case, through out this episode, we had to be extra careful in interpreting Molly's 'he's.

Molly thinks how much milk she had while she was breast feeding Milly, how Penrose, a delicate looking student staying with Citrons in no 28 had caught her washing through the window, how, when weening Milly, she had made Bloom suck the milk because otherwise her breasts were too painful. Bloom who had found that Molly's milk was sweeter and thicker than that of a cow, wanted to use it in his tea. 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

All these thoughts make her feel aroused (... I wished he was here or somebody to let myself go with and come again like that I feel all fire inside me...), and she thinks again of her love making in the afternoon, and count the days till Monday when Boylan is supposed to visit again (O Lord I cant wait till Monday).

frseeeeeeeefronnng, 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, 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 B Morche paris, and had written a p c (a post card) too.  Mr. Stanhope, whom she called wogger,  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 - all Victorian novels - to read: Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, Shadow of Ashlydyat and East Lynne by Mrs Henry Wood, Henry Dunbar by that other woman (Molly forgets the author's - Mary Elizabeth Braddon's -  name), Lord Lytton Eugene Aram (rather, Eugene Aram by Edward Bulwer-Lytton) and Molly Bawn by Mrs Hungerford.  Molly had given Henry Dunbar to him (Mr. Stanhope?) with a photo of Mulvey, her first boy friend, to show that she indeed had someone. Anyway, she does not like books with a Molly in them like that one (Molly Flanders) Bloom brought her. Molly still remembers the day when Stanhopes left Gibraltar. Whatever had happened to them in the mean time? Were they no more?

A crossed letter

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. 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. 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?). She would not write those long crossed letters. Instead she would use just a few simple words that one could twist how one liked. She would not even take the advice from manuals like ladies letterwriter. Because its all very fine for them as for being a woman as soon as you'e old they might as well throw you out in the bottom of the ashpit.

Tuesday, 8 November 2016, Pages 887 - 893, Penelope, Episode 18

We stopped at "... all for his Kidney...." (Penguin 893.10), (Gabler 18.568)

The pages, rather Molly's nocturnal thoughts, are getting quite a bit explicit. That Joyce put such candid thoughts into the mind of Molly, an Irish Catholic woman, in the early part of the 20th century is incredibly remarkable. I cannot help wondering where they originated. We all know that Joyce wrote explicit letters to Nora when he was away in Ireland in 1909. These letters known as James Joyce's 'Dirty Letters' to his wife, are now at Cornell University. Though Nora herself is said to have initiated such correspondence, none of her letters have been found. Yet. In any case, a glance at the 'dirty letters' do show that much of what we read on these pages does originate in this correspondence.

Last week, we had left Molly thinking of her trip to Belfast with Boylan. She knows that Boylan has plenty of money (his father supposedly made his money by selling the same horses twice to the cavalry; Penguin, p. 414; Gabler 18.403), and hes not a marrying man. So it is as well,  Molly thinks, if she gets some out of him, going round with him shopping buying those things in a new city (Belfast).

Molly thinks of her love making with Boylan (... hes heavy too...) and how she would prefer for him to put it into her 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 Lotus-eaters, episode 5.) The name Lenehan acts like a cue to remember the Glencree dinner, and how he (Lenehan) was making free with her, and how too the lord Mayor was looking at her with dirty eyes.

Thoughts of 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 advertisements that they give a delightful figure line ... obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the lower back to reduce flesh. The idea of delightful figure recalls to her mind that her figure is not all that ideal (my belly is a bit too big).

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 ... instead of measuring and mincing ...). With her three dresses and an 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 the jersey lily the prince of Wales (King Edward) was in love with,  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, whereas whenever she asked him does that suit me, whether the hat looked like a weddingcake standing up miles off her head or like a dishcover, he would say yes.

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, episode 8). In any case, it is obvious that Molly does not care much for the anatomy of the male either (... they hide it with a cabbageleaf...). And she thinks of the dirty bitch in the Spanish photo Bloom has in his drawers (Ithaca, episode 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 also Calypso, episode 4), and burns the bottom out of the pan all for his Kidney, ...  

Tuesday, 1 November 2016, Pages 879 - 887, Episode 18, Penelope

We stopped at "... for the fat lot I care ..." (Penguin 887.9), (Gabler (18.411)

We have completed almost half of this final episode of Ulysses.Molly's monologue must be listened to - or read aloud - to truly appreciate what Joyce has created in this episode. (You can get a taste of it here, an excerpt from Joseph Strick's 1967 production of Ulysses.)

Before falling asleep, Bloom has obviously told Molly that he had met Josie Powell, current Mrs Breen. (See Lestrygonians, episode 8.) Molly now muses about the mutual jealousy felt between Josie and herself when both were being courted by Bloom, who Molly thinks was very handsome at that time trying to look like Lord Byron (Penguin, p. 879), (Gabler 18.219).

Lord Byron (Source here)

Leopold Bloom (Source here)

At that time Bloom had given her gifts - Byron's poems and three pairs of gloves. Thinking of Mrs. Breen, she also thinks of her dotty husband, who sometimes used to go to bed with his muddy boots on (Penguin, p. 880), (Gabler 18.218). Musings on husbands and wives such as the Purefoys, Breens, she herself and Bloom reminds her of Mrs Maybrick who in 1889 was convicted (whose death sentence was commuted later) of poisoning her husband with white Arsenic. Wondering why they call it Arsenic (Arse + nic), Molly is true to herself when she thinks wasnt she the downright villain to go and do a thing like that, finding at the same time a possible justification for Mrs Maybrick's behaviour saying of course some men can be dreadfully aggravating drive you mad... (Penguin p. 880), (Gabler 18.237).

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 p. 881, Gabler 18.262.) 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 (Penguin, p. 881), (Gabler 18.268).

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, p. 863), (Gabler 18.274), 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 he'd 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, p. 883) (Gabler 18.305), 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 (typhoid), reminding me of Charles Hamilton in  Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind published fourteen years after Ulysses!

Her thoughts turn to the trip to Belfast, where she is going with Boylan, the lovely linen, nice kimono things that she can find there. Prudent Molly thinks it might be better to leave her wedding ring at home on this trip, because as she feels they might ... tell the police on me but theyd think were married O let them all go and smother themselves for the fat lot I care...