Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Page 98 (6.522-558) "dead weight... own town?"

editions: [1922] [html] [archv]
notes: [Th] [G&S] [Dent] [wbks] [rw] [images] [hyper]
Delaney: [264] Useen: [] maps: [path] [glsnvn] [other] [*]
fd: [263.1]


dead weight. Felt heavier myself stepping out of that bath. First the stiff: then the friends of the stiff. Corny Kelleher and the boy followed with their wreaths. Who is that beside them? Ah, the brother-in-law.

All walked after.

Martin Cunningham whispered:

— I was in mortal agony with you talking of suicide before Bloom.

— What? Mr Power whispered. How so?

point-of-view finally shifts temporarily from Bloom

— His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham whispered. Had the Queen's hotel in Ennis. You heard him say he was going to Clare. Anniversary.

Ennis in 1901 had about 20,000 people. There's still/again a Queen's Hotel downtown that may be that old. Rudolph Bloom is elsewhere described as the proprietor ( = owner). (So did RB leave any money to LB?) [more]

— O God! Mr Power whispered. First I heard of it. Poisoned himself!

He glanced behind him to where a face with dark thinking eyes followed towards the cardinal's mausoleum. Speaking.

"dark, thinking eyes"

mausoleum: [pix] StreetView

— Was he insured? Mr Bloom asked.

— I believe so, Mr Kernan answered. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. Martin is trying to get the youngster into Artane.

"Artane" = the O'Brien Institute for Destitute Children [1901?] [exposé]

— How many children did he leave?

— Five. Ned Lambert says he'll try to get one of the girls into Todd's.

Todd Burns department store [pix]

— A sad case, Mr Bloom said gently. Five young children.

— A great blow to the poor wife, Mr Kernan added.

— Indeed yes, Mr Bloom agreed.

Has the laugh at him now.

fd: [264]
He looked down at the boots he had blacked and polished. She had outlived him. Lost her husband. More dead for her than for me. One must outlive the other. Wise men say. There are more women than men in the world. Condole with her. Your terrible loss. I hope you'll soon follow him. For Hindu widows only. She would marry another. Him? No. Yet who knows after.

"Wise men say. There are more women than men in the world" []
"Him?" = Kernan

Widowhood not the thing since the old queen died. Drawn on a guncarriage. Victoria and Albert. Frogmore memorial mourning. But in the end she put a few violets in her bonnet. Vain in her heart of hearts. All for a shadow. Consort not even a king. Her son was the substance. Something new to hope for not like the past she wanted back, waiting. It never comes. One must go first: alone, under the ground: and lie no more in her warm bed.

— How are you, Simon? Ned Lambert said softly, clasping hands. Haven't seen you for a month of Sundays.

— Never better. How are all in Cork's own town?

song info


[DD 02:02-03:59]
[DD 00:00-01:52]

[IM 37:03-39:33]

[LV1 41:08-43:55]

[LV2 00:50-03:23]

hades: 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111

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