Ulysses page-by-page: Page 214 (10.145-183) "the propagation... homely word."

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Page 214 (10.145-183) "the propagation... homely word."

6AA     9TL    7MD   2CK    18PD   11DD    16BM    14Si    13SD  17TF
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the propagation of the faith and of the millions of black and brown and yellow souls that had not received the baptism of water when their last hour came like a thief in the night. That book by the Belgian jesuit, Le Nombre des Élus, seemed to Father Conmee a reasonable plea. Those were millions of human souls created by God in His Own likeness to whom the faith had not (D.V.) been brought. But they were God's souls, created by God. It seemed to Father Conmee a pity that they should all be lost, a waste, if one might say.

(Bloom and Stephen would find this argument sufficient for disbelief)

At the Howth road stop Father Conmee alighted, was saluted by the conductor and saluted in his turn.

the tram should have taken less than 10 minutes

streetview now
1909 map

The Malahide road was quiet. It pleased Father Conmee, road and name. The joybells were ringing in gay Malahide. Lord Talbot de Malahide, immediate hereditary lord admiral of Malahide and the seas adjoining. Then came the call to arms and she was maid, wife and widow in one day. Those were old worldish days, loyal times in joyous townlands, old times in the barony.

approximately synchronous with the auction bell and the bikeracebell

streetview now
1909 map (lots of suburban sprawl already?)

Father Conmee, walking, thought of his little book Old Times in the Barony and of the book that might be written about jesuit houses and of Mary Rochfort, daughter of lord Molesworth, first countess of Belvedere.

36pp, c1900?

the Barony was Luainford (aka Athlone)
1895 essay by Max Wood (did Conmee plagiarise???)

A listless lady, no more young, walked alone the shore of lough Ennel, Mary, first countess of Belvedere, listlessly walking in the evening, not startled when an otter plunged. Who could know the truth? Not the jealous lord Belvedere and not her confessor if she had not committed adultery fully, eiaculatio seminis inter vas naturale mulieris, with her husband's brother? She would half confess if she had not all sinned as women did. Only God knew and she and he, her husband's brother.

cf Hamlet

these Belvederes were one generation before the one who built the schoolbuilding

Father Conmee thought of that tyrannous incontinence, needed however for man's race on earth, and of the ways of God which were not our ways.

cf Stephen p40: "On the top of the Howth tram alone crying to the rain: naked women! naked women! What about that, eh? What about what? What else were they invented for?"

Don John Conmee walked and moved in times of yore. He was humane and honoured there. He bore in mind secrets confessed and he smiled at smiling noble faces in a beeswaxed drawingroom, ceiled with full fruit clusters. And the hands of a bride and of a bridegroom, noble to noble, were impalmed by don John Conmee.

(Gifford guesses this alludes to 'Don Juan' but it seems subtler, probably just the historical era when that honorific was used for both nobles and priests. cf the toothpaste business above, though-- he fancies himself attractive?)

It was a charming day.

The lychgate of a field showed Father Conmee breadths of cabbages, curtseying to him with ample underleaves. The sky showed him a flock of small white clouds going slowly down the wind. Moutonner, the French said. A just and homely word.