Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Page 145 (8.28-63) "Dedalus'... waters dull."

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Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auction rooms. Must be selling off some old furniture. Knew her eyes at once from the father. Lobbing about waiting for him. Home always breaks up when the mother goes. Fifteen children he had. Birth every year almost. That's in their theology or the priest won't give the poor woman the confession, the absolution. Increase and multiply. Did you ever hear such an idea? Eat you out of house and home. No families themselves to feed. Living on the fat of the land. Their butteries and larders. I'd like to see them do the black fast Yom Kippur. Crossbuns. One meal and a collation for fear he'd collapse on the altar. A housekeeper of one of those fellows if you could pick it out of her. Never pick it out of her. Like getting £.s.d. out of him. Does himself well. No guests. All for number one. Watching his water. Bring your own bread and butter. His reverence: mum's the word.

Dillon's became Sheeran's auction rooms [1963 pic]

"Lobbing" see also p69 "Those Cinghalese lobbing around in the sun"

Bloom's guess is impressively close:
14 kids? miscarriage 1881, Jim 1882, miscarriage 1883, Poppie 1884, Stannie 1884, miscarriage 1885, Charlie 1886, Georgie 1887, Eileen 1889, May 1890, Eva 1891, Florrie 1892, Baby 1893, Freddie 1894

"collation" = a light meal allowed during a fast (literally 'conference')

'Bring your own tea and sugar, Bring your own bread and butter, But you'll come to the wedding, Won't you come?' [song]

fd: [302]

Good Lord, that poor child's dress is in flitters. Underfed she looks too. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. It's after they feel it. Proof of the pudding. Undermines the constitution.

cf ALP in FW p7: "Whatif she be in flags or flitters, reekierags or sundyechosies..."

"marge" = oleomargarine, a recently invented butter substitute

Stephen must feel some guilt for not stepping in as family breadwinner
Bloom blames the Church's stance on birth control

As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up from the parapet. Brewery barge with export stout. England. Sea air sours it, I heard.

barge 1908

Be interesting some day get a pass through Hancock to see the brewery. Regular world in itself. Vats of porter, wonderful. Rats get in too. Drink themselves bloated as big as a collie floating. Dead drunk on the porter. Drink till they puke again like christians. Imagine drinking that! Rats: vats. Well of course if we knew all the things.

Guinness brewery 1895

Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the gaunt quay walls, gulls. Rough weather outside. If I threw myself down? Reuben J's son must have swallowed a good bellyful of that sewage. One and eightpence too much. Hhhhm. It's the droll way he comes out with the things. Knows how to tell a story too.

"Hhhhm" is a very odd spelling (inquiring?). SD and LB normally think "Hm", while Zoe will say the more conventional "Hmmm!" once

They wheeled lower. Looking for grub. Wait.

view east: pic

He threw down among them a crumpled paper ball. Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com. Not a bit. The ball bobbed unheeded on the wake of swells, floated under by the bridge piers. Not such damn fools. Also the day I threw that stale cake out of the Erin's King picked it up in the wake fifty yards astern. Live by their wits. They wheeled, flapping.

"Not a bit" = not fooled by paper

"Erin's King" italicised on p64
FW note: "LB never forget trip on Erin's King (C.S.P.)." (CS Parnell was called Ireland's uncrowned king) The real boat was an old tub that charged a shilling each to take people on a 2hr tour round the Kish lightship

The hungry famished gull
Flaps o'er the waters dull.

Bloom's hunger (and low bloodsugar?) dulls his poetic imagination



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lestrygonians: 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175

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