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