Ulysses (James Joyce) - A literary discussion

[Haihao]

@MrPedantic

I take “hair on end” as a literal description of S’s appearance, first thing in the morning; but it’s also appropriate, after S’s “funk” about Haines and the dream of his dead mother.

Convincing and bellclear to me!

@MrPedantic

“Cleft by a crooked crack” is mysterious; Joyce likes “cracks” of various kinds; the phrase suggests Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse; but there might also be an allusion to Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott (“The mirror cracked from side to side”), in which the mirror shows the real world outside the Lady’s window, just as this mirror shows S’s face “as others see me”.

The “cracked mirror” also prepares for the “cracked lookingglass” (an allusion to Wilde’s “I can quite understand your objection to art being treated as a mirror. You think it would reduce genius to the position of a cracked looking glass”).

Profound, detailed and informative to me. Again, enlarging the Ulysses world for me.

@MrPedantic

Buck calls S. “poor dogsbody” on the previous page, and the phrase recurs later; it has a Jacobean sound (which is in accord with the allusions to Hamlet); but if it is an allusion, I don’t know the original! So perhaps it means no more than “wretched drudge”.

In “This dogsbody to rid of vermin”, I think S. picks up Buck’s phrase and applies it to himself; he is not enthusiastic about his own corporeal aspects; he reduces his own raison d’être to ridding himself of vermin. (Elsewhere – if I remember correctly – we discover that S. has vermin.)

But again, I’m not sure whether Joyce has hidden an allusion here.

Cogent to me.

@MrPedantic

I think it’s a variant on “dying wish”, which is the usual phrase. But perhaps the latter has too sentimental a sound, for Buck: “last wish in death” is plain and un-euphemistic.

As you said, Joycean trifle makes a difference as well as makes me keep thinking and learning.

Thank you very much indeed!

Haihao

[Haihao]

I am a little still concerned about ‘dogsbody’. Would you think it makes sense to respell the word as:

dogsbody -> dog’s body -> dog’s boy (close meaning) -> yob’s god (conversed) -> yobsgod : dogsbody?

[Molly]

@Haihao

I am a little still concerned about ‘dogsbody’. Would you think it makes sense to respell the word as:

dogsbody → dog’s body → dog’s boy → yob’s god (conversed) → yobsgod : dogsbody ???

How about:

busybody
antibody
blackbody

[MrPedantic]

Hello Haihao,

@Haihao

I am a little still concerned about ‘dogsbody’.

Yes, it puzzles me too; especially as the first recorded instances of “dogsbody” with the meaning “drudge” date from the 1920s, according to the OED (though no doubt it was in use before that).

Originally, it was naval slang for a kind of pudding. (Pease pudding; which seems very Joycean.)

“Dogsbody” turns up in a couple of later passages; it’s almost as if the word only makes sense retrospectively, in the context of those passages.

Your “backspelling” idea is interesting. I wouldn’t rule out any explanation!

All the best,

MrP

[Haihao]

Hello MrP,

I love to read your comment very much. it enriches my eyes and broadens my view. Thank you!

Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words shimmering on the dim tide.

O I love it here very much too! But I am not sure about my thoughts as follows and would like to have your assessment.

1. Does ‘Woodshadows floated … seaward…’ suggest sunshine’s movement?
2. If 1 is true, could ‘lightshod’ be also interpreted as ‘sunlightshod’ other than ‘not heavily shod’? Sunlight is somehow involved here to me.
3. Do ‘two by two’ and ‘wedded’ echo each other?
4. Could I think the whole para is beautifully rhymed? I would suppose:

Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the harpstring s, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words shimmering on the dim tide.

and ‘ea’, ‘ee’ in ‘peace’, ‘feet’, ‘sea’, ‘seaward’ as well as two ‘dim’, and others.

And,

– Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines is apologising for waking us last night. It’s all right.

I think ‘mosey’ is the later-coming ‘ready’ but I have no idea about its origin. I think ‘mosey’ could only be used as a verb.

Sorry for my “asktive” manner.

In the gloomy domed livingroom of the tower Buck Mulligan’s gowned form moved briskly about the hearth to and fro, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the flagged floor from the high barbicans: and at the meeting of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning.

Could I suggest this para related with church, cross, altar, etc.?

Best regards,

Haihao

[MrPedantic]

Hello Haihao,

Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words shimmering on the dim tide.

That was a good choice! It is a fine tissue of allusions. First, there is the poem by Yeats, a few lines of which precede the passage:

Who will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep wood’s woven shade,
And dance upon the level shore?
Young man, lift up your russet brow,
And lift your tender eyelids, maid,
And brood on hopes and fear no more.

And no more turn aside and brood
Upon love’s bitter mystery;
For Fergus rules the brazen cars,
And rules the shadows of the wood,
And the white breast of the dim sea
And all dishevelled wandering stars.

(Hence the “woodshadows”, “white breast”, “dim sea”.)

Also there are references to:

a) Telemachus’ sea-journey to the court of Menelaus, in the Odyssey;

b) the Nereids (sea nymphs who attend upon Poseidon); their footsteps (lightshod hurrying feet) are the foam of the sea; combined with:

c) Anglo-Saxon seafarers (the “feet” of their ships that “spurn” the waves are their oars; Anglo-Saxon poetry is full of metaphors of that kind);

d) Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse, which consists of lines with two metrical units, each of two beats and linked by alliteration (twining stresses, two by two);

e) the singer (harpist) who would keep time for the rowers in an Anglo-Saxon warship.

So in answer to your questions:

1. Does ‘Woodshadows floated … seaward…’ suggest sunshine’s movement?

— Implicitly, I think so. I would also envisage them as the faint ghost of the poem in S’s mind, overlaying the scene in front of him.

2. If 1 is true, could ‘lightshod’ be also interpreted as ‘sunlightshod’ other than ‘not heavily shod’? Sunlight is somehow involved here to me.

— I think so too; “lightshod” meaning “shod with light” and “lightly shod”; and the foam too is white with light.

3. Do ‘two by two’ and ‘wedded’ echo each other?

— I would say so, yes: the words in each half of the Anglo-Saxon line are “in twos”, and are “wedded” by alliteration.

4. Could I think the whole para is beautifully rhymed?

— I would agree with you; I don’t think many writers could manage the patterning of Ws, the assonances, the play of vowels, the rhythms, etc. quite so well.

(I’ll post later on the other passages!)

Best wishes,

MrP

[MrPedantic]

Part 2:

@Haihao

– Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines is apologising for waking us last night. It’s all right.

I think ‘mosey’ is the later-coming ‘ready’ but I have no idea about its origin. I think ‘mosey’ could only be used as a verb.

That puzzles me too. I have a note in my margin: “?simpleton”; but no source. So I think it was a guess.

@Haihao

In the gloomy domed livingroom of the tower Buck Mulligan’s gowned form moved briskly about the hearth to and fro, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the flagged floor from the high barbicans: and at the meeting of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning.

Could I suggest this para related with church, cross, altar, etc.?

I would say so, yes. The “gowned form” suggests a priest; the “shafts of soft daylight”, light through church windows; and the “coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease” are Mulligan’s incense.

Best wishes,

MrP

[Haihao]

Thank you so very much indeed again for your time, goodness and everything. The poem by Yeats and other references are really very helpful and known by me for the first time.

Haihao

[Haihao]

Hello MrP,

Another trifle but what is ‘hising’ here in:

For old Mary Ann
She doesn’t care a damn
But, hising up her petticoats…

I would suppose ‘hising up’ mean ‘hold up’ but couldn’t find out the word. Is it a kind of onomatopoeia (hissing up)?

Haihao

[MrPedantic]

Hello Haihao,

I think it must mean “hitching”, as in “lifting”. I imagine she’s about to engage in a bodily function of some kind. (People in Ulysses usually are.)

Have a pleasant evening,

MrP

[Haihao]

Thanks again, MrP. Now I have another ‘trifle’.

Crouching by a patient cow at daybreak in the lush field, a witch on her toadstool, her wrinkled fingers quick at the squirting dugs.

I have no idea about it. I suppose there must have been some literary quotation there.

[MrPedantic]

That looks like a more general allusion: in northern folklore, witches (and fairies, etc.) have a reputation for stealing milk from cows by night; while toadstools (and toads) are traditionally associated with witches and other malevolent entities.

(I’ll check though whether there is a more particular reference.)

All the best,

MrP

[Haihao]

Good morning MrP!

Would you please take a look at:

Stephen filled a third cup, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. Buck Mulligan brought up a florin, twisted it round in his fingers and cried:
– A miracle!

He passed it along the table towards the old woman, saying:

– Ask nothing more of me, sweet.
All I can give you I give.

I have no idea what kind of miracle he alludes to. Does it have something do with milk?

[MrPedantic]

Hello Haihao,

This continues the religious theme: I think it picks up on the “Glory be to God!” of the old woman’s entrance, and Buck’s subsequent reference to “the collector of prepuces” (i.e. Jehovah, the god of the Old Testament, who requires the foreskins of his devotees, and also those of his enemies; cf. the Book of Samuel, where Saul asks David to collect 100 Philistine foreskins as a dowry; the success of the expedition is a sign of the favour of Jehovah).

More specifically, it may refer to the miraculous coin in the Book of Matthew 17:24:

24 And when they were come to Capernaum, they that received tribute money came to Peter, and said, Doth not your master pay tribute?

25 He saith, Yes. And when he was come into the house, Jesus prevented him, saying, What thinkest thou, Simon? of whom do the kings of the earth take custom or tribute? of their own children, or of strangers?

26 Peter saith unto him, Of strangers. Jesus saith unto him, Then are the children free.

27 Notwithstanding, lest we should offend them, go thou to the sea, and cast an hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money: that take, and give unto them for me and thee.

It’s also a “miracle” in the prosaic sense of “something unexpected”. Buck is very short of money; earlier, he asks Stephen for a loan; once he has given the old woman the florin, he describes himself as “stony (broke)”.

His flattery of the old woman (“If we could only live on good food like that…”; and offering her a cup of tea) suggests that he is preparing not to pay her, or at least to make it very awkward for her to ask for money; but Haines’s intervention makes it impossible for him to avoid paying.

Thus Buck brings out the coin with a little joke, as if he hadn’t expected to find it in his pocket; and his bonhomie obscures the fact that he is twopence short.

Best wishes,

MrP

[Haihao]

Hello MrP,

Thanks again. That’s very informative and cleared up everything here completely!

Sorry to jump over to ‘Oxen of the Sun’ but I have been a little concerned about the following for a long time:

In ward wary the watcher hearing come that man mildhearted eft rising with swire ywimpled to him her gate wide undid. Lo, levin leaping lightens in eyeblink Ireland’s westward welkin. Full she dread that God the Wreaker all mankind would fordo with water for his evil sins. Christ’s rood made she on breastbone and him drew that he would rathe infare under her thatch. That man her will wotting worthful went in Horne’s house.

From an early explanation of yours on rhyme I can see this one now as another resembling alliterative Anglo-Saxon poetry. But I suppose “swire ywimpled” = “wire wimpled” then what’s the function of the additional “s” and “y”?

Also, is ‘wot’ an ME meaning ‘know’? If so, could it be used without ‘of’?

Thank you!

Haihao

[MrPedantic]

Hello Haihao,

That section contains some very strange words. “Swire” (throat) and “ywimpled” (“y-wimpled”, provided with a wimple) are both found in Chaucer; the y- prefix usually denotes a past participle, though it may also turn up in infinitives and adjectives. “Wot” is indeed “know”; with “of” it signifies “know about”, as in Shakespeare’s

1. more water glideth by the mill / Than wots the miller of

but can also take a direct object, as in (again, Shakespeare’s):

2. The slave, a member of the country’s peace, / Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots / What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace

Best wishes,

MrP

[Haihao]

O that satisfied me fully after so long a time! I never could have thought of Chaucer! Thank you so much indeed.

[MrPedantic]

It’s my pleasure!

[Haihao]

Hello MrP,

There are a few more left on my mind for the Telemachus which I feel in my bones having a certain quantity of allusions but have no idea what exactly they are.

The father is rotto with money.

1. ‘otto’ is attar of roses which could imply ‘The father is oil-flowing-like rich with money’ but I have no idea about ‘rotto’.

Toothless Kinch and I, the supermen.

2. Never mentioned before, I think, what kind of toothless condition S was in.

Later on, Haines said. Not on my breakfast.

3. Does it allude to his smoking?

Give us that key, Kinch, Buck Mulligan said, to keep my chemise flat.

4. Does it imply BM’s trade-off feeling with S?

A voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him from the sea. Turning the curve he waved his hand. It called again. A sleek brown head, a seal’s, far out on the water, round.

5. I guess it’s BM’s head. But what does it hint at? Or nothing at all?

Best regards,

Haihao

[MrPedantic]

Hello Haihao,

“Rotto” is slang for “drunk”. It’s also Italian for “broken” or “smashed”; since Joyce knew Italian, no doubt “rotto with money” (“drunk with money”) had interesting reverberations for him, since “broke” means without money.

(Then too, “smashed” is also slang for “drunk”.)

Back soon…

MrP