Showing posts with label mirror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mirror. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

James Joyce's Ulysses, "Telemachus" episode, No. 29


[Cf. 1922 6:7-28; Gabler 1:112-134]

One thing that strikes me on reading this passage is Mulligan's none-too-subtle playing of "the class card" with Stephen. "Dogsbody" has all kinds of associations, and will gather even more in the "Proteus" episode, but at the very least it refers to an underling or a "gofer." Mulligan also teases Stephen for his "second leg" trousers, his improper etiquette, and even offers his own old clothes to him. We'll soon learn he's wearing Mulligan's boots already. ["Poxy Bowsy" is glossed in Gifford, but basically means vd-ridden lout.]

Stephen's insistence that he can't wear grey is pretty extreme. Gifford's gloss is very useful--like many other entries, it "reminds" us of things we don't yet know, that Stephen's mother died on June 23, 1903, and so it's been almost a full year... though we actually won't find out it's June 16, 2004 for a few hundred pages yet. Gifford observes that under the strictest standards of Victorian mourning, a son would wear only black for a full year after his mother's death, so Stephen's within that period. Mulligan catches the irony of Stephen's assiduous sartorial etiquette and his cruel treatment of his mother, but we don't necessarily feel better about Mulligan for this.

Point of trivia: if you're following along in your Gabler edition, you'll see that several of Mulligan's lines here end with exclamation points [Dogsbody! Insane! Bard!]. He's quite an exclaimer. The exclamation points appear in the Rosenbach manuscript, but not in the 1922. Because we're following the '22 here, they're not used. Write them in if you like.

Point of admiration: I love how Rob has Mulligan using the mirror here.

so, riddle me this:

1. We've been wondering what the mirror should look like. Anyone have a good sense of what the cracked lookingglass of a servant should look like? Please post a picture.

2. About that dogsbody. What difference does it make, given the trends and themes of this chapter, that Mulligan is talking about Stephen's body and his appearance?

3. Why is it important that Stephen is so hyper-observant of the etiquette of mourning? Can you answer this question by going through Hamlet or the Odyssey?

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Ulysses, Telemachus, No. 6



[cf. Gabler 3:2; 1922 3:2]

Having had the bird's eye view in the last frame, we pull in to see what Mulligan is carrying: "a bowl of lather, on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed." On one level, a man is simply about to shave. But Joyce's careful syntax invites a deeper dive. Mulligan is about to begin chanting the opening prayer of the Catholic mass, and the visual cues Robert's been giving us have primed us to see him as a kind of priest. But here, for the moment, we get to look at Mulligan's tools: a mirror, and a razor. The razor cuts and makes distinctions--hair from skin, mostly (analysis?). The mirror reflects an image, sends back to its viewer the appearance of a person where before there had only been a disembodied experience of impressions and thoughts (synthesis?). [And yes, I'm thinking about Jacques Lacan and his "mirror stage" here.] Neither the mirror nor the razor creates anything really new. This is the opposite of what is supposed to happen during a real mass, when the priest uses his tools and the magic of transubstantiation to bring the body and blood of Christ to the table.

Yeah, I'm pushing it a little hard here, but I do think we're meant to see Mulligan as energetic and vital, but also as bankrupt, as barren, as a parasite. Dedalus is weak and ineffectual, but he has the creative vitality and inner strength that Mulligan lacks.

PS: It's really hard for me to see this book the way new readers see it. It's impossible to 'unlearn' everything I know about these characters and their fictional city. I will try to be careful to respect the virginity of new readers and not give too much away or base readings on things a new reader can't possibly know (because they haven't come up in the book yet). ... but I'm going to fail. I know that already.