Page 12 (1.324-362) "He howled... pot."

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Delaney: [29]

<
He howled, without looking up from the fire:
— Kinch!
— It's in the lock, Stephen said, coming forward.
The key scraped round harshly twice and, when the heavy door had been set ajar, welcome light and bright air entered. Haines stood at the doorway, looking out. Stephen haled his upended valise to the table and sat down to wait. Buck Mulligan tossed the fry onto the dish beside him. Then he carried the dish and a large teapot over to the table, set them down heavily and sighed with relief.
— I'm melting, he said, as the candle remarked when... But hush!

Delaney: [30]

Not a word more on that subject! Kinch, wake up! Bread, butter, honey. Haines, come in. The grub is ready. Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts. Where's the sugar? O, jay, there's no milk.

"haled" = hauled
"valise" SD would have needed one for Paris, but it's not clear JAJ took one to the Tower
"fry" short for 'fry-up' (eggs/bacon/sausage/etc)
"Kinch, wake up" [he's only just sat down!]

Stephen fetched the loaf and the pot of honey and the buttercooler from the locker. Buck Mulligan sat down in a sudden pet.
— What sort of a kip is this? he said. I told her to come after eight.
— We can drink it black, Stephen said thirstily. There's a lemon in the locker.
— O, damn you and your Paris fads! Buck Mulligan said. I want Sandycove milk.

"the loaf and [one usually tries to avoid such repetitions]
the pot of honey and
the buttercooler from
the locker" [maybe evoking young SD in PoA?]

"Paris fads" Joyce spent 3 months in Paris between Dec 1902 and Apr 1903

Haines came in from the doorway and said quietly:
— That woman is coming up with the milk.
— The blessings of God on you! Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from his chair. Sit down. Pour out the tea there. The sugar is in the bag. Here, I can't go fumbling at the damned eggs.
He hacked through the fry on the dish and slapped it out on three plates, saying:
— In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

 BM also sits for just a moment

"bag... lumps" [a bag of sugarcubes?]
"I can't go fumbling at the damned eggs" [so they're not quite done?]

Haines sat down to pour out the tea.
— I'm giving you two lumps each, he said. But, I say, Mulligan, you do make strong tea, don't you?
Buck Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the loaf, said in an old woman's wheedling voice:
— When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.
— By Jove, it is tea, Haines said.
Buck Mulligan went on hewing and wheedling:
— So I do, Mrs Cahill, says she. Begob, ma'am, says Mrs Cahill, God send you don't make them in the one pot.

 "I'm giving you" [telling not asking]
'make water' = pee
"By Jove, it is tea" [why 'By Jove'?]
italics only for quoted speech

mother Grogan? [1810 lyric]

>

mysteries:


[DD 01:42-04:42]


[IM 26:03-28:43]

[LV1 28:01-30:20]

[LV2 20:03-22:13]


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Page 11 (1.289-323) "His head... choked."

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Delaney: [26]

<
His head disappeared and reappeared.
— I told him your symbol of Irish art. He says it's very clever. Touch him for a quid, will you? A guinea, I mean.
— I get paid this morning, Stephen said.
— The school kip? Buck Mulligan said. How much? Four quid? Lend us one.
— If you want it, Stephen said.
— Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan cried with delight. We'll have a glorious drunk to astonish the druidy druids. Four omnipotent sovereigns.

guinea = $136.50 today, quid/pound = $130
"The guinea had an aristocratic overtone; professional fees and payment for land, horses, art, bespoke tailoring, furniture and other luxury items were often quoted in guineas" [wiki] why does Mulligan correct himself? maybe exploiting Haines' snobbery?

we'll see in the next chapter that SD's pay is actually 3 pounds, 12 shillings ($468 today vs $520, and that he's been paid it twice already, so BM (unlike OG) could be sponging off SD

He flung up his hands and tramped down the stone stairs, singing out of tune with a Cockney accent:
— O, won't we have a merry time,
     Drinking whisky, beer and wine!
     On coronation,
     Coronation day!
     O, won't we have a merry time
     On coronation day!

this was a well-attested popular ditty c1902 for Edward VII's coronation, but I can't find any sign of the tune, unless it really was O Dem Golden Slippers [♬]? eg1, eg2, "a rousing six-eight grand march"
more often it went "We'll [all] be [very] merry, Drinking whisky wine and sherry, On coronation day" (witty parody: "Oh, when Carrie Nation [the prohibitionist] dies, Oh, when Carrie Nation dies, We'll have a spree, a jubilee, We'll shout, "Hip, hip, hurrah!" We'll be merry Drinking whisky, wine, and sherry...")

Delaney: [27]

Warm sunshine merrying over the sea. The nickel shavingbowl shone, forgotten, on the parapet. Why should I bring it down? Or leave it there all day, forgotten friendship?
He went over to it, held it in his hands awhile, feeling its coolness, smelling the clammy slaver of the lather in which the brush was stuck. So I carried the boat of incense then at Clongowes. I am another now and yet the same. A servant too. A server of a servant.

calming himself
'slaver' = slobber, drool
the 1st of many transitions from outdoors to in and viceversa

Delaney: [28]

In the gloomy domed livingroom of the tower Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly about the hearth to and fro, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the flagged floor from the high barbicans: and at the meeting of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning.
— We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan said. Haines, open that door, will you?

"domed" (arched, to support the weight of a cannon on the roof)
paved with flat 'flagstones'
coalburning fireplace?
"the meeting of their rays" (optically doubtful)
"will you?" politer with Haines than with SD

Delaney: [29]

Stephen laid the shavingbowl on the locker. A tall figure rose from the hammock where it had been sitting, went to the doorway and pulled open the inner doors.
— Have you the key? a voice asked.
— Dedalus has it, Buck Mulligan said. Janey Mack, I'm choked!

outer doors locked, but not inner?

why is Haines' voice disembodied here?

source

domed livingroom

barbican

"Janey Mack" politer euphemism for 'Jesus Christ'?

an exclaimation of surprise: "Janey Mack, My shirt is black, what will I do for Sunday, I'll stay in bed and cover my head and not get up 'til Monday!"

>

mysteries: quid vs guinea, [melody]


[DD 02:30-03:42]
[DD 00:00-01:42]


[IM 23:21-26:03]

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Page 10 (1.255-288) "Her secrets... sakes."

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Delaney: [22]

<
Her secrets: old featherfans, tasselled dancecards powdered with musk, a gaud of amber beads in her locked drawer. A birdcage hung in the sunny window of her house when she was a girl.

Delaney: [23]

She heard old Royce sing in the pantomime of Turko the Terrible and laughed with others when he sang:

I am the boy
That can enjoy
Invisibility.

dancecard

EW Royce (1841-1926)

 probably 1873

♬ music!

Royce might have been anywhere from 31 to 50yo, and Joyce's mother might have been 11, or 30 (with 10yo JAJ). [cite]

Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed.

And no more turn aside and brood.

Folded away in the memory of nature with her toys. Memories beset his brooding brain. Her glass of water from the kitchen tap when she had approached the sacrament. A cored apple, filled with brown sugar, roasting for her at the hob on a dark autumn evening. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the blood of squashed lice from the children's shirts.

"squashed lice... prepuces... puce"

Delaney: [24]

In a dream, silently, she had come to him, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath bent over him with mute secret words, a faint odour of wetted ashes.
Her glazing eyes, staring out of death, to shake and bend my soul. On me alone. The ghostcandle to light her agony. Ghostly light on the tortured face. Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while all prayed on their knees. Her eyes on me to strike me down.

SD is paring away words and phrases:

Silently, in a dream            In a dream, silently,
she had come to him             she had come to him,
after her death, 
her wasted body within          her wasted body within
its loose brown graveclothes    its loose graveclothes
giving off an odour             giving off an odour
of wax and rosewood,            of wax and rosewood,
her breath, that had bent upon  her breath bent over him
him, mute, reproachful,         with mute secret words,
a faint odour of wetted ashes.  a faint odour of wetted ashes.

cf Hamlet I.iv ''To you alone."
"ghostcandle" would normally imply the room already held a corpse

Delaney: [25]

Liliata rutilantium te confessorum turma circumdet: iubilantium te virginum chorus excipiat.
Ghoul! Chewer of corpses!
No, mother! Let me be and let me live.

the translation of this Latin (from the Last Rites) is joyfully upbeat:

Liliata rutilantium = bright as lilies (the confessors)
te = you
confessorum turma  = company of confessors
circumdet: = may they (the lilybright confessors) encompass (you)
iubilantium = jubilant (the virgins)
te = you
virginum chorus  = chorus of (jubilant) virgins
excipiat = may (the virgins) accept (you)

...so is SD trying to fend off his own horror?
cf Hamlet I.ii

Delaney: [26]

— Kinch ahoy!
Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower. It came nearer up the staircase, calling again. Stephen, still trembling at his soul's cry, heard warm running sunlight and in the air behind him friendly words.
— Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines is apologising for waking us last night. It's all right.
— I'm coming, Stephen said, turning.
— Do, for Jesus' sake, Buck Mulligan said. For my sake and for all our sakes.

"warm running sunlight" is brilliant, like hot running water, or a happy child

>

mysteries: [why is her laugh worth mentioning?]

[DD 03:16-04:02]
[DD 00:00-02:31]


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Page 9 (1.220-254) "Of the offence... Where now?"

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Delaney: [18]

<
— Of the offence to me, Stephen answered.
Buck Mulligan swung round on his heel.
— O, an impossible person! he exclaimed.

Delaney: [19]

He walked off quickly round the parapet. Stephen stood at his post, gazing over the calm sea towards the headland. Sea and headland now grew dim. Pulses were beating in his eyes, veiling their sight, and he felt the fever of his cheeks.
A voice within the tower called loudly:
— Are you up there, Mulligan?
— I'm coming, Buck Mulligan answered.
He turned towards Stephen and said:
— Look at the sea. What does it care about offences? Chuck Loyola, Kinch, and come on down. The Sassenach wants his morning rashers.

"Sassenach" (Scots pejorative for Englishman)
"rashers" = strips of bacon [wiki]

Delaney: [20]

His head halted again for a moment at the top of the staircase, level with the roof:
— Don't mope over it all day, he said. I'm inconsequent. Give up the moody brooding.
His head vanished but the drone of his descending voice boomed out of the stairhead:
— And no more turn aside and brood
    Upon love's bitter mystery
    For Fergus rules the brazen cars.

[Give up the moody brooding]
cf Hamlet I.ii: "Queen: Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off"
"And no more turn aside and brood Upon love's bitter mystery For Fergus rules the brazen cars." [Yeats] [cf] BM may be flattering SD by using the melody JAJ composed

Delaney: [21]

Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words shimmering on the dim tide.
A cloud began to cover the sun slowly, wholly, shadowing the bay in deeper green. It lay beneath him, a bowl of bitter waters.

SD completes Yeats' poem in his head: "And rules the shadows of the wood, And the white breast of the dim sea And all dishevelled wandering stars". He'd heard it chanted by Florence Farr at the premiere in 1899 (maybe accompanied by harp?) and set it to music himself.

[spurned]
WBY imagines Fergus as a pagan Robin Hood whose merry men drive brass chariots (maybe?)
'dishevelled wandering stars' reminds me of Stannie on JAJ around this time: "I hate to see Jim limp and pale, with shadows under his watery eyes, loose wet lips, and dank hair... He likes the novelty of the role of dissipated genius... running after every chit with a petticoat on it and making foolish jokes to them in a high weak voice... He is trying to commit the sin against the Holy Ghost for the purpose of getting outside the utmost rim of Catholicism."

the cloud is supposed to synchronise with Bloom in chapter four, but meteorologically it can't be the same cloud at the same moment (less than a mile high, but seven miles apart).

Delaney: [22]

Fergus' song: I sang it alone in the house, holding down the long dark chords. Her door was open: she wanted to hear my music. Silent with awe and pity I went to her bedside. She was crying in her wretched bed. For those words, Stephen: love's bitter mystery.
Where now?

>

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[DD 00:18-03:17]


[IM 17:17-20:10]

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Page 8 (1.183-219) "Do you... Mulligan asked."

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<
— Do you wish me to tell you? he asked.
— Yes, what is it? Buck Mulligan answered. I don't remember anything.
He looked in Stephen's face as he spoke. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes.
Stephen, depressed by his own voice, said:
— Do you remember the first day I went to your house after my mother's death?
Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said:
— What? Where? I can't remember anything. I remember only ideas and sensations. Why? What happened in the name of God?
— You were making tea, Stephen said, and went across the landing to get more hot water. Your mother and some visitor came out of the drawingroom. She asked you who was in your room.
— Yes? Buck Mulligan said. What did I say? I forget.
— You said, Stephen answered, O, it's only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead.

why might BM have waited a year before raising this question? cowardice? never alone together? BM away?
(why "some visitor"?)
Gogarty 1901 
in a letter to Stannie on 10Jan 1907, JAJ wrote: "The news is that OG's mother is 'beastly dead' and that OG is very rich..." [SL143]
(so OG must have really said it of JAJ's mother)

Delaney: [18]

A flush which made him seem younger and more engaging rose to Buck Mulligan's cheek.
— Did I say that? he asked. Well? What harm is that?
He shook his constraint from him nervously.
— And what is death, he asked, your mother's or yours or my own? You saw only your mother die. I see them pop off every day in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the dissectingroom. It's a beastly thing and nothing else. It simply doesn't matter. You wouldn't kneel down to pray for your mother on her deathbed when she asked you. Why? Because you have the cursed jesuit strain in you, only it's injected the wrong way. To me it's all a mockery and beastly. Her cerebral lobes are not functioning. She calls the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the quilt. Humour her till it's over. You crossed her last wish in death and yet you sulk with me because I don't whinge like some hired mute from Lalouette's. Absurd! I suppose I did say it. I didn't mean to offend the memory of your mother.

"injected the wrong way" (SD uses absolutist Jesuit logic to defend his non-observance)
[sir Peter Teazle]
"mummer... mute"

He had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds which the words had left in his heart, said very coldly:
— I am not thinking of the offence to my mother.
— Of what then? Buck Mulligan asked.

unlike BM, SD's ethical/esthetic belief system holds this sentiment holy

>

mysteries:


[DD 01:32-04:31]
[DD 00:00-00:19]


[IM 14:35-17:17]

[LV1 17:01-19:50]

[LV2 11:59-14:09]


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