Ulysses, Telemachus, No. 14

[Cf. 1922; 3:17, Gabler 3:19]

Rob and I had a long conversation about this passage and what Buck means when he says "back to barracks." I see it as a garden-variety transubstantiation joke--wherein Mulligan is trying to keep the genie in the bottle, the spirit of Christ (or "christine," as Mulligan will say in a moment) from escaping the shaving bowl before it can be [insert precise verb here] into the shaving lather.

I'm bracketing the verb here because as I have been reading the above-linked Wikipedia post about transubstantiation, I see that the choices I was about to make (mixed, infused, combined, blended) are all wrong and invoke heresies. [side-side point. I am glad I am not a proper academic, because if I was, I would have to scorn Wikipedia. It's a little lazy for me to link to Wikipedia so many times, but it's good information, in most cases better than what you get in Gifford & Seidman (forgive me, Don & Robert. You would love Wikipedia.).

Reading through the entry, I can't help but think of Stephen's little aesthetic dissertation on perception and essence in Portrait, and the whole Aristotelian Fugue-state he enters in Proteus. [as long as I'm making these little side notes, a little David Foster Wallace homage, the fugue state idea reminds me that Proteus would be a good place to talk about Stephen as an Aspie avant-la-lettre. {OK. one more. I swear. If you followed the Aspie link, you saw that one of the "you may be an aspie" jokes was if you know the historical derivation of the word "trivia." Famous Joyce quote: when asked if he was worried that people would consider some of the puns in Finnegans Wake "trivial" he said "yes, and some are quadrivial." There you go.}]

But I trigress. or quadgress.

About the barracks. It's important to know that in the Dublin mind, a "barracks" is not an abstract or alien thing at all. In 1904, as at many times in Irish history, British troops were garrisonned in barracks that were cheek and jowl with densely populated urban neighborhoods. Because their function was to control the people living in those neighborhoods. Think Baghdad's Green Zone. Despite the comparison, this is not the way US citizens tend to think of military bases. The presence of British troops on the street, their movements, their leisure entertainments, their interactions with the "natives," are all an important part of the atmosphere of Joyce's Dublin in June of 1904. These days, the old barracks have been appropriated for various purposes... the now-called "Collins Barracks" is a stunning museum, part of the National Museum of Ireland, with exhibitions relating to decorative arts and Irish history. The barracks at "Beggars Bush" has a national printing museum.

Ulysses,Telemachus, No. 13

Rob has caught an exact, if difficult to define, expresison here. It's open, sad, skeptical, perceptive, but not without warmth. Here's a famous picture of Joyce from the summer of 1904--the same time in which (in the world of fiction) Ulysses takes place:



This picture was taken by Joyce's friend Constantine Curran. The original print is part of the C. P. Curran papers at University College, Dublin. According to legend (or Ellmann), Joyce was once asked what he was thinking when Curran took the picture. Joyce said: "I was wondering would he lend me five shillings."

Ulyssess "Seen" Project Update 10-18-08

So its now four months since Bloomsday and you've probably been saying to yourselves, "hey, I thought this ULYSSES webcomic was supposed to be monthly!"

Well, yes, hrrmmn...

The premier of ULYSSES "SEEN" in connection with the Rosenbach Museum and Library's annual Bloomsday event was a great success by all means, and I want to thank everyone involved. We've spent a hectic couple of months since then trying to organize some ideas generated around the premier into a tangible plan and clear course for the project's future. I apologize for those of you who've been waiting for the next update to the comic, but we needed to get some of the business stuff cleared up first before moving forward. ULYSSES "SEEN" will be a production of Throwaway Horse LLC.That work is almost complete now and we'll have the next installment ready to go as soon as the ink is dry.

I thought it might be good to use this e-mail to bring people up to date on all the changes and new features we've got coming your way next month. We'll be using this kind of subscription e-mail to update readers in the future (as well as offer some added features) so please take a moment to sign on to the mailing list. Here are some of the things going on:

-For those of you who were at the event in Philadelphia and saw some of the artwork for the project, you'll be glad to know we've finally set up the system for purchasing original art from ULYSSES "SEEN" on- line. There are black&white as well as full color versions for almost each and every one of these panels, so feel free to visit the site and help support the project the old-fashioned way.

-For people who maybe encountering the book for the first time through this adaptation, or for those looking for a deeper understanding of Joyce than my drawing might allow, I think you'll be glad to see what's happening on our production blog. Mike Barsanti, resident Joycean and stalwart drinking partner, is taking us from the adaptation and through the book one panel at a time. There's exciting links to obscure references, notes on major themes throughout the novel and quite a few good stories along the way. Its a great example of how this is one of the hardest books you'll ever want to read over and over again.

-There's quite a lot of talk around here about the direction of this project right at the moment, and it's kept us from posting new material since the premier last June. It definitely hasn't kept us from working on that new material. I've been busy working out the storyboards for the first three chapters of the novel and I'm really quite pleased with some of the results. We'll be showing off little bits of those storyboards on these web-blast from time to time but, for those who've been wondering, yes, the "Proteus' chapter looks great told in the language of comics.

I wish there was more I could say about some of the things going on with the project these days but, for now, thanks for all your interest and patience so far. We're coming back with new material next month and a lot plans for enjoying this novel together as the adaptation continues.

Thanks for reading,
Rob

On staging the first chapter of ULYSSES

Well, now that Mike's rolling along with the commentary, I figure this might be a good time to add some reflections about the staging of this first chapter.

Comics and cartooning have a language uniquely there own of course, but adaptation of material from another art form, in this case a prose novel, into that language of comics sets up a different kind of challenge. Particularly when dealing with original material that is so visually rich as Joyce's ULYSSES. The goal here is not to just make static illustrations of the moments shown in the novel but to "see" it in the language of comics.

Adaptation of the novel into comics means imaging it, particularly in this first chapter, a little closer to the stage than to a film. At least in my mind. The dialogue and repartee here in these opening sequences really showcases the charm of language Joyce uses to invigorate all the later verbal exchanges between Stephen, Buck and all the other intriguing characters of that Dublin day. Language is Joyce's toy as a writer and my goal as a cartoonist is to move that to the forefront of the experience in reading this first chapter of the adaptation. So, since I personally feel stage plays are the great and weather-worn bastion for experiencing the richness of dialogue, I tried to see this chapter as a play and draw it accordingly.

There are things you can do as a comic artist that you could never accomplish in film or on the stage. But there are great lessons to be found in thinking of your entire environment with the clarity and specificity of an actor. When you think about it, the whole environment of this chapter, and certainly this scene, can be reduced to very few props and very few details. They,Stephen and Buck, are standing at the edge of the world (the world being Dublin), divided by sea and sky on the tower which jutting up like a phallus (or omphalos). There is a bowl, a razor and a mirror for the actors to handle. There is a flagpole (existent on the tower at the time, though not mentioned by Joyce) and, painted in Ireland's kelly green, it divides the two characters now and again. The walls of their encounter, Mike talks about them like the ring of a bull-fighter's arena, are round; no hard-edged architecture to establish them. The actors exist in relation to each other and, occasionally, that flagpole, the thing that separates them. The stage, the environment of left to right, is plastic except for sea and sky while the up-and-down is determined through perspective (father=up, mother=down) or some symbolic relationship to country. A malleable stage to maximize and accentuate the dialogue between the two men, the two actors. We'll see more of this plasticity again in the next two scenes of this chapter, but for now its about these two men on a nebulous and rounded playing field divide by the hash horizontals of sea and sky and the harsh vertical, though yet un-decorated, flagpole of country. How do those small props, a razor, a bowl and a mirror, fit into the relationship of these giant and determining environments?

One of the things that makes this novel so inviting to me as a cartoonist is the idea that each of the chapters (and even some of the very sentences) have such varying viewpoints. Mike touched on this before with his comments on the "Uncle Charles Principle." The expressionistic theatre moments I'd like to exploit in this first chapter that allow the environment of Martello Tower to seem so fluid will be completely missing from chapter two. If I'm thinking about plays for illustrating these chapters, if I'm thinking about Samuel Beckett in chapter one, then chapter two is all Noel Coward.

-Rob

Ulysses, Telemachus, No. 12

Cf. 1922, 3:10-11; Gabler 3:11-12

At last, we meet Stephen. Mulligan approaches him like he’s the antichrist. He is not amused.

As the two men carry on their conversation at the top of the tower, these drawings make the contrast between them much more apparent. I love, too, how the top of the tower looks like a bull ring. Stephen will soon be called the “bullock-befriending bard,” though his pose is more that of the toreador here. I also can’t help but think of Spy vs. Spy, the old Alexander Prohais comic from Mad Magazine.

The Secret Advantages of Subscribing to E-mail

"So," you ask yourselves, "why would I want more stuff in my inbox rather than just use Google Reader or any of the other less intrusive ways to keep track of a blog?"

Excellent question. I hate getting more e-mail than necessary myself. After all, if most of the fans of this blog are busy reading Joyce, how much time can you have for junk-mail?

Well, here's the thing. We've been kind of quiet around here lately as we get things formalized for a big push next month; new content on the comic, a live on-line sales site for original art, models for different applications and delivery methods (yes, that was intentionally vague), and a finished script for the next two chapters (well, okay, we're not entirely finished with "Proteus" yet, but most of you will understand how that one can be tricky...).

Mike's doing such a terrific job with the tutorial element of this blog that we've decided to keep that a bit separate from all this other news and updates. To that purpose we're forming a mailing list that will let people know exactly where the project stands and take them, through a link, directly into the updated material on the comic. This mailer, or web-blast, will also include some re-capping of previous passages of the adaptation and show exactly where that corresponds to the 1922 text.

Oh, and there will be unique artwork on these web-blasts not found in the comic. Some of it by me, some of it done exclusively for the project by others.

Oh, and we're sending the first of these web-blast out later this week.

I think its well worth cluttering your inbox to get more of the "inside scoop" and it leaves Mike plenty of room to talk about things like the "Uncle Charles Principle." This way we keep the current events off to the side.

-Rob

Subscibe to The Ulysses "Seen" Blog!

You'll notice that there are now two new boxes on the right side of the top of the page, each of which allows for different methods of subscription to this blog. Now you can keep up with each of Mike's updates through email or RSS feed.

Ulysses, Telemachus, No. 11

[Cf. 1922, 3:10; Gabler, 3:11]

A few quick points:

-- In case you were wondering, Portrait fans, this is the same Stephen Dedalus we last saw vowing to "forge in the smithy of his soul the uncreated conscience of his race." Joyce used the name as a nom de plume early in his career, in addition to giving it to his fictional alter ego. But you'll see that Stephen is a little older, a little more jaded, and more than a little depressed.

-- I know it's basic, but it doesn't hurt to have a little refresher on Daedalus. A master builder and creater of labyrinths.

-- Interesting that as Rob has drawn it, we're getting Stephen's POV here. One of Joyce's signature moves is to give his narrating voice elements of the vocabulary or stylistic tics or perceptions of a character in the scene. Where it might first seem that the narrator is your usual omniscient, once you really start to parse who's doing the talking, it can sound like the narrator's voice and style are flavored by a particular character (often described as the character "infecting" the narrator's voice). I have a perverse theory that the narrator of Portrait is actually Stephen himself, talking about himself in the third person. [Hugh Kenner called this style the "Uncle Charles Principle." in his classic Joyce's Voices]. The text here doesn't show UCP (as the Joyceans call it) so much, but this medium requires choices of perspective that can help illustrate the phenomenon.

Ulysses, Telemachus, No. 10

[Cf. 1922 3:9-10, Gabler 3:10-11]

The mountains in question here are the Wicklow Hills, beautiful (if perhaps worn and stubby) mountainlets to the south & west of Dublin.

I should note there's another error here--Joyce deliberately writes "awaking" mountains, not "awakening" as we have it above. Awaking is an anachronism, rather, Joyce simply prefers it to it's more standard descendant. It's last cited use in the OED is 1870. Prior to that, is a use in 1620, and prior to that, 1611: Shakespeare, in The Winter's Tale. Follow the wikipedia link if you dare. We will be hearing more about this play in Chapter 9, but for now, suffice it to say that it involves fathers trying to return home, lost sons and daughters, changes of identity, etc.

Is Joyce deliberately invoking the Shakespeare play? or does he just like the condensed, archaic version of the word? Why choose!