Odysseus Meets Nausicaa

Odysseus Meets Nausicaa
Odysseus Meets Nausicaa, Pieter Lastman (1619), In Munich Old master Gallery

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Jane Austen

Anonymous student paper on those who influenced Jane Austen's Style...


Jane Austen lived in a time of violent change. Her birth, in 1775, coincided with the beginning of the American War of Independence and the perfection of James Watt's steam engine. In her lifetime, England changed from a predominantly rural country to an industrial world power, and Europe was rocked by revolution and war. Jane Austen's view of the world and of human nature was rooted in the 18th century. In Britain at least, the century turned its back on the excesses and enthusiasms of the previous century that had led to civil war. Order, and the management of life -both social and individual- according to the dictates of reason rather than emotion was considered necessary to hold in check human violent, corrupt and fundamentally volatile nature. With control, balance and decorum - the benefits of civilization - life could be pleasant and enjoyable. Such beliefs had produed a reasonably stable society, benefitting particularly the class into which Jane Austen was born - upper-middle class landed gentry. Comfortable and secure, her ideals and concerns are those of the century into which she was born, and her views are those she inherited from her father, tempered by favourite authors, notably Dr. Samuel Jonhson. He represented balance, culture, reason, order, tradition, and hierarchy, social values and love for the city. She was, at the same time, influenced by William Cowper, who was completely the opposite of Johnson. He represents feelings and freedom, spontaneity and experiences, individual values and struggles. He was a lover of the countryside. The most important of the literary convictions that she inherited from him was the concept of life and literature. For Johnson, who was very optimistic, the fact that we cannot predict our lives does not mean that we cannot control them, and that we cannot put some kind of order into them up to a point. Truth is always found provided you are in possession of moral sincerity and a reliable judgement. If you have the right kind of morals and the right kind of judgement you shall be happy. Their intention was to teach people, to instruct them and through their teachings make them want to improve themselves. This is the reason why 'fiction' dealt with portraits of real life. The closer the portrait was to reality the better and the quickest it would reach people. This could seem to us quite a naïve idea because reality is not one; there are as many realities as people there are. The instructive object of this kind of works implied that language should be transparent and that words should mean what they meant and nothing else. Language is not a main element; it is a transparent means of communication. The influence that William Cowper exerted over Jane Austen can be seen on two different convictions. According to Cowper, knowledge should be gained from life, from the experience you acquire living. Experience is more important than academic education. This idea will be present in Jane Austen's work. The second aspect is that he believed that nature was the key to happiness. Nature inspired the individual with the right kind of feelings; it improves oneself through good sensations. Nature its God's projection. This is an Evangelical idea and it is very much related to a very important, because of its influence, movement called Benevolism, which was at its peak on the second half of the 18th Century. One of the 'heads' of it was J. Shaftesbury. Benevolism is a reaction towards Hobbes' most dramatic and pessimistic ideas of mankind. For them, human beings are gifted with a moral and aesthetic sense inferred on him by nature. For the Benevolists nature implies a complete harmony of varied and opposite values. The importance of this movement is great, because apart from changing the idea of what human beings were, they advocated for insane people, women's rights, the working classes, etc. All this, affected the Romantics to a great extent.




An increasing number of writers today are freelance writers—that is, they are self-employed and make their living by selling their written content to book and magazine publishers, news organizations, advertising agencies, or movie, theater, or television producers or by working under contract with an organization. Some writers may be commissioned by a sponsor to write a script; others to write a book on the basis of a proposal in the form of a draft or an outline. Many freelance writers are hired to complete specific short-term or recurring assignments, such as contributing a column or a series of articles on specific topics on various subjects to news organizations.


Many freelance writers are unaware of the opportunities of doing back-of-the-book indexing.


Indexes are designed to help the reader find information quickly and easily. A complete and truly useful index is not simply a list of the words and phrases used in a publication (which is properly called a concordance), but an organized map of its contents, including cross-references, grouping of like concepts, and other useful intellectual analysis.

Sample back-of-the-book index excerpt:

sage, 41-42. See also Herbs ← directing the reader to related terms
Scarlet Sages. See Salvia coccinea ← redirecting the reader to term used in the text
shade plants ← grouping term (may not appear in the text; may be generated by indexer)
hosta, 93 ← subentries
myrtle, 46
Solomon's seal, 14
sunflower, 47 ← regular entry

In books, indexes are usually placed near the end (this is commonly known as "BoB" or back-of-book indexing). They complement the table of contents by enabling access to information by specific subject, whereas contents listings enable access through broad divisions of the text arranged in the order they occur. It has been remarked that, while "[a]t first glance the driest part of the book, on closer inspection the index may provide both interest and amusement from time to time."

Wikipedia--

June 3, 2010 1:57 PM

Dissertations vary in their structure in accord with the many different areas of study (arts, humanities, social sciences, technology, etc.) and the great differences between them. Dissertations normally report on a research project of some kind, and the structure nearly always reflects this by a) introducing the research topic, with an explanation of why the subject was chosen for study, b) reviewing relevant literature and showing how this has informed the research issue, c) explaining how the research has been designed and why the research methods being used have been chosen, d) outlining the findings, e) analysing the findings and discussing them in the context of the literature review, and f) concluding.

a)Topic: From Jordan Richman's NYU MA thesis (1957), Stream of Consciousness Techniques in the Nausicaa Episode of James Joyce's 'Ulysses':


The purpose of studying a single episode in James Joyce's Ulysses, the 'Nausicaa' episode, is to discover the means whereby Joyce was able to create two believable characters by rendering their thoughts and feelings through stream of consciosness techniques.


Introducing the research topic, with an explanation of why the subject was chosen for study.

b) reviewing relevant literature and showing how this has informed the research issue:


(Richman, MA thesis)


1) The term "stream of consciousness" was coined by William James in his attempt to describe the flow of pre-verbal thought: Consciousness, then, does not appear to itself chopped into bits. Such words as "chain" or "train" do not describe it fitly as it presents itself in the first instance. It is nothing jointed; it flows. A "river" or "stream" are the metaphors by which it is most naturally described. In talking of it hereafter, let us call it the stream of thought, of consciousness, or of subjective life.


c) explaining how the research has been designed and why the research methods being used have been chosen, d) outlining the findings, e) analysing the findings and discussing them in the context of the literature review, and f) concluding

I

The purpose of studying a single episode in James Joyce's
Ulysses,1 the "Nausicaa" episode, is to discover the means
whereby Joyce was able to create two wholly believable characters and to render their thoughts and feelings to the reader through the use of the techniques for conveying the sense of his characters' inner monologues which in turn reflects their "streams of consciousness."2


This thesis is a critical analysis of the way James Joyce chose to show the lame Gerty MacDowell and the sexually frustrated Leopold Bloom. They are portrayed by Joyce as they silently communicate Sandymount beach through the stream of consciousness technique of their inner monolgues.

It can be shown that the episode is a self-contained esthetic whole even though it divides into two separate inner monologes. Two very different characters are briefly united by Joyce's novel stream of consciousness method. Furthermore, I hope to show how the techniques here used relate the episode to other parts of Ulysses.

II

My main reason for selecting the "Nausicaa" episode is that
I believe it shows us how effectively stream of consciousness writing can portray character and unify form. It is a triumph of stream of consciousness technique to present the adolescent consciousness of Gerty MacDowell and to give it dramatic form.

Gerty seems to have fascinated Joyce and some of this fascination comes through to the reader. Although Gerty's thoughts may be simple, the techniques used to portray them are far from simple.

There are other reasons for selecting this episode. The
relationship of Bloom and gerty is suggestive of the atmosphere of Ulysses. Each individual is locked within his or her own consciousness and moves like a disparate cog in a huge wheel. To Gerty, Bloom is a dark and romantic stranger who offers to her imagination the opportunity to indulge in daydreams cast in the style of the romantic fiction she has read. To Bloom, Gerty is a pretty young
girl who is exhibiting herself for his pleasure.

This episode underscores one of the essential assumptions of Ulysses, i.e., though there can be hardly be any union between people whose minds have created a separate universe for themselves, communication, if any at all, however, may arise from hidden and subtle sources.

Nothing conveys this idea so well as the two different internal monologues used in the episode, differing as they do both in their content and their mode of associating.

In addition, the Nausicaa episode not only breaks the main narrative of Ulysses, but it also changes its direction. It marks the significant transition from day to night, and it is an episode that precedes the meeting of Bloom and Stephen. In explaining how the episode fits into the rest of the book, I do so not with the intention of interpreting its particular meaning or using it as a keystone for interpreting the meaning of the whole book. Rather, I am interested in showing how the stream of consciousness techniques used in this vital episode functions for the novel as a whole.

III


The term "stream of consciousness" was coined by William James in his attempt to describe the flow of pre-verbal thought: Consciousness, then, does not appear to itself chopped into bits. Such words as "chain" or "train" do not describe it fitly as it presents itself in the first instance. It is nothing jointed; it flows. A "river" or a "stream" are the metaphors by which it is most naturally described. In talking of it hereafter, let us call it the stream of thought, of consciousness, or of subjective life. 3

According to James, thought is personal, changing, continuous, cognitive, and selective. By its nature, a thought cannot be analyzed into discrete parts:

No one of them [parts of a thought] can live out of
that particular thought, any more than my head can live
off of my particular shoulders. In a sense a soap
bubble has parts; it is a sum of juxtaposed spherical
triangles. But these triangles are not separate
realities. Touch the bubble and the triangles are no
more. Dismiss the thought and out go its parts. You can
no more make a new thought out of "ideas" that have
once served than you can make a new bubble out of old
triangles. Each bubble, each thought, is a fresh
organic unity, sui generis.4

James's psychological concepts pose several problems for the "stream of consciousness" novelist. Since thought is personal, how does the novelist enter or know a character's thoughts? In reality, novelists really only know their own unspoken thoughts. They have few tools with which to dissect the mind of an outside person or character.

Another obstacle in portraying "stream of consciousness" thought as defined by William James lies in the nature of the serially printed word itself. Can the horizontal sequence of individually placed words on a page capture the depth of the stream of thought as conceived by James and other theorists of the stream of consciousness? In order to deal with these questions, the stream of consciousness novelist  creates special literary effects to create the illusion of entering a character's mind.


In representing the flow of thought in Ulysses, Joyce relied on the technique of the silent monologue or soliloquy to carry the thoughts of his three main characters. This technique had been used earlier by Edouard Dujardin in his novel Les Lauriers sont Coup's, which was originally published in 1887. The virtue of Dujardin's internal monologue posts the reader in the character's mind to overhear not only unspoken thoughts, but also thoughts which the character may only be partially aware of.

The use of an internal monologue thereby enables the stream of consciousness novelist to record underlying levels of thought which proceed from the subconscious to the conscious mind. Joyce not only appropriated and refined the internal, or inner, monologue he found in Dujardin's novel, but, as Harry Levin points out, he also borrowed concepts, ideas, and techniques from other arts.

Thus the very form of Joyce's book is an elusive and eclectic Summa of its  age:      the montage of the cinema, impressionism in painting, leit-motif in music, the
free association of psychoanalysis, and vitalism in philosophy. Take of these elements all that is fusible, and perhaps more, and you have the style of Ulysses.5

In the "Nausicaa" episode there are four main techniques used to render "stream of consciousness" method. They are the internal monologue, the use of montage-like devices, prose rhythms that imitate the stages of sexual arousal and discharge ("tumescence-detumescence"), and the symbolization of certain everyday objects to reflect on the meaning and significance of actions taken by the characters.

Joyce uses two distinct internal monologues in the "Nausicaa" episode which are in turn controlled by the device of an intrusive author. Bloom's internal monologue is cast in the first person and contains a minimum amount of intrusive comments
by the author. Since it is necessary for the author to provide some directions and information to get his character to move about without contrivance, the intrusive author enters Bloom's internal monologue at times to give, with a softly modulate voice, stage directions and cues.

In the case of Gerty MacDowell's internal monologue, however, Joyce exercises even greater circumspection in order to avoid the appearance of intrusiveness. For a number of different reasons, Joyce presents Gerty as if she were the heroine of a current dime-store novel of romance. In this way Gerty's internal monologue operates both as a representation of her own stream of consciousness and as an occasion for Joyce's parody of a popular literary form. These are the novels we assume Gerty has been
reading as a way of building up her own fantasy life.


For the most part, we get the content of Gerty's mind and her manner of free association reflected in the voice of a gently mocking narrator. Through the process of Joycean satire, the author both presents an illusion of Gerty MacDowell's "stream of
consciousness" and comments on it as well. Since Gerty MacDowell's internal monologue is presented in the voice of a chatty popular novelist, in my analysis I refer to it as a "reflected internal monologue."


Whether it is the direct monologue of Bloom or the "reflected" one of Gerty's, the point of view always remains fixed to the character with the exceptional entrances of the
intrusive author who makes his presence felt somewhat like that of an offstage director.
As Levin points out, "the movement of Joyce's style, the thought of his characters, is like unreeling film; his method of construction, the arrangement of this raw material involves the crucial operation of montage."6


In motion pictures montage is the production of a rapid succession of images to illustrate an association of ideas. For example, a man's expressionless face may be flashed on the screen immediately followed by the image of a steaming bowl of soup,
which is then again followed by the same picture of the man's face. The idea of hunger is expressed to the audience by the succession of these two reoccurring images. Joyce's application of this motion picture technique in Ulysses is as complicated as
it is pervasive. In the first chapter of this paper, however, I will show exactly how the technique is used in particular sections of the "Nausicaa" episode and discuss its significance.


Stuart Gilbert calls the technique of the episode "tumescence-detumescence." According to Gilbert the movement of the episode from a "quiet opening, a long crescendo of turgid, rhapsodic prose towards a climax, a pyrotechnic explosion, a
dying fall, silence" can be summed up by the medical psychosexual term "tumescence-detumescence."7 Gilbert, although he implies it in his definition, does not directly link Bloom's masturbation with the technique. The significance of the technique is that it
reflects the various stages of both Bloom's and Gerty's sexual arousal. As such, it is an important technical device of the "stream of consciousness" effect throughout the episode. The application of a "tumescent-detumescent" effect of the prose style captures both the thought and action of the characters involved in this episode.


In addition to the techniques I have mentioned, I will also discuss the use of several symbols which are also used to represent both the actions and feelings of the characters as well as their thought processes. The illusion of "stream of consciousness" is for the most part created by the use of all these various technical devices working together for a "unity of effect."


Various studies of Ulysses include brief and incomplete commentaries on the techniques used in the "Nausicaa" episode. Stuart Gilbert's study provides a methodical episode-by-episode analysis of Ulysses. The Gilbert study focuses on the Homeric parallels and provides keys for a symbolic exegesis of the work, but it overlooks less obvious constructional elements of the novel as a work of "stream of consciousness" fiction.


Robert Humphrey comes close to the truth of the nature of the narration when he analyzes a representative passage from Gerty's "stream of consciousness" in the following terms:


This passage, in context, is presented in the manner of straight
narrative by the author; but it is distinguished by being in the
fanciful, romantic idiom of the dreamy Gerty, and the material reflects the
content of such a person's consciousness, especiallyits manner
of associating. So what we have is, in effect, far more direct
representation than mere description of Gerty's consciousness, for it is the
mode of her consciousness that is represented. The
consciousness is never presented directly, because the
author is always present as the omniscient author with
his comments. Through the device of a parody of
sentimental fiction, the author gives an apparent
interpretation, without any attempt to conceal himself
from the reader, of Gerty's daydream consciousness.8


But his brief analysis of one typical passage in Gerty's "stream of consciousness" does not really tell us all that is happening there. As I hope to show, there are times when Gerty'sactual voice is heard. The complexity of the method lies in the subtle shifts from the reflected internal monologue to the "genuine" adolescent tones of Gerty's voice along with the presence of the intrusive author. Humphrey's analysis omits other voices in other rooms.


Hugh Kenner9 also analyzes various passages from the episode for techniques employed and for their special effects. But again, as in the case of Humphrey's critique, his analysis of chosen passages from Gerty's internal monologue gives a partial and
incomplete picture of what is actually taking place in Gerty MacDowell's stream of consciousness. Nor does either critic consider the episode as a whole in terms of its technical presentation.


William Tindall points out the disparity between Bloom's and Gerty's monologues, but he fails to point out exactly how the episode is unified by these monologues to form a whole picture. Nor does he discuss the unifying effects of the episode on the
rest of the book.


Irene Hendry's11 use of the term "block technique" for the shift from Gerty to Bloom is another example of a failure to appreciate the unity of the episode and its place in the plan of Ulysses.


Richard Ellman12 writes about "spiritual tumescence-detumescence," but he neither gives a definition of the term nor does he show how it is achieved in the episode.


The one critic who has shown that it is a unified whole and that it relates esthetically to the rest of Ulysses is Philip Toynbee. According to Toynbee, Joyce's stylistic solution for the objectives he had set for himself revolved around the "theory of the total impression. Each page was to be, not a thing of individual excellence, but the most potent contribution to the whole."13 Because Joyce refused to compromise this bold and difficult choice, Toynbee feels that he lost a certain amount of clarity and effectiveness:


However, the success of GertyMacDowell's monologue is
due to the fact that it stops "at the point of repletion. Had it
continued for the whole section, the nausea and fascination
would have turned sour, and the effect would have been
destroyed. Instead of this we are returned, to our
overwhelming relief, to the familiar racy language of Bloom."14


Nor is Bloom's monologue overextended.


The sound of the cuckoo clock heard at the
end immediately relates the episode to
the "chronological architecture of the whole book."15


Although I agree with some of Toynbee's general conclusions, I think he seems to take the complexity for granted. Moreover, his brief analysis of the episode does not take us very far into the technical aspects of either the whole book or this episode.


IV


Before we begin our study, it would be helpful to give a short summary of the episode.


The thirteenth episode of Ulysses (340-76), opens quietly on the rocks of Sandymount shore at eight p.m. A description of the twilight, sea, beach, promontory, and church is given in this opening.


Gerty MacDowell and her friends, Cissy Caffrey and Edy Boardman, sit on the beach enjoying the approaching evening. The girls are minding the twin brothers of Cissy Caffrey and the Boardman baby who is in a pushcar. While the other two girls
alternately kiss and discipline the children, Gerty sits apart, daydreaming. Her daydreams center about love, marriage, and the handsome stranger on the beach who is watching her intently. Although she is an attractive girl, and wears all the make-up and
paraphernalia necessary to attract men, she has nevertheless been thrown over by the boy whom she had hoped to marry, a young man named Reggie Wylie. With this hope gone she has little to look forward to except a life of drudgery as a housekeeper to a
drunkard father, or a possible marriage with someone of her own class and level of thinking.


When Mr. Bloom (who is the stranger on the beach) rolls a ball to Gerty that one of the twins threw to him, she realizes that she is the main object of his attention. As she ponders the meaning of his glance, Mr. Bloom, who is partially hidden by a
rock, begins to masturbate. Meanwhile, the sounds of organ music and a religious service issue from a nearby church and fuse with Gerty's thoughts on religion and sex.
A display of fireworks begins at the Mirus Bazaar. Cissy and Edy, along with the children, run further down the beach to get a better view. Left alone on the strand with Bloom, Gerty leans back and shows her legs. As the rockets flash in the sky, Bloom
has an orgasm. A few minutes later Gerty gets up, waves to him, and walks away. As she walks, Bloom notices for the first time that she is lame. Alone, he experiences a twinge of pity for Gerty coupled with a letdown in spirits after his orgasm. As
Bloom walks away he sees the paper left by Stephen Dedalus on a rock earlier in the day. He reads it and starts to write in the sand, then abandons the project. He notices that his watch has stopped at 4:30, the time that Blazes Boylan was with his wife Molly.


As bats fly about his head, Bloom takes a short nap. The episode closes when a mechanical clock in the priest's house reminds the reader of the time and of Bloom's situation by calling "cuckoo"nine times.


NOTES


1 All references from Ulysses in this paper are from the
   Modern Library Edition (New York: Random House Inc., 1946).
   Hereinafter all page numbers to references from Ulysses will
   appear in the text.


2 I will refer to the thirteenth episode of Ulysses as the
  "Nausicaa" episode of Ulysses in accordance with the plan
  provided by Stuart Gilbert's authorized book, James Joyce's
  Ulysses (New York: Vintage Books, 1955), 30. This plan will be
  followed in referring to other episodes by their Homeric titles
  within this paper.


3 William James, The Principles of Psychology (New York:
   Holt and Co., 1904), 239.


4 James, 279.


5 Harry Levin, James Joyce: A Critical Introduction, Norfolk,
   Conn.: New Directions, 1941), 89.


6 Levin, 88.


7 Gilbert, 290.


8 Robert Humphrey, Stream of Consciousness in the Modern
   Novel (University of California Press, 1954), 30-31.


9 Hugh Kenner, Dublin's Joyce (Indiana University Press,
  1956), et passim.


10 William Tindall, Forces in Modern British Literature:
    1885-1946 (Knopf, 1947), 298.


11 Irene Hendry, "Joyce's Epiphanies," James Joyce: Two
     Decades of Criticism, ed. Sean Givens (Vanguard Press, 1948), 31.


12 Richard Ellman, "The Backgrounds of Ulysses," The Kenyon
    Review, XVI (Summer, 1954), 337-86.


13 Philip Toynbee, "A Study of James Joyce's Ulysses," James


    Joyce: Two Decades of Criticism, 243-84.


14 Toynbee, 276.


15 Toynbee, 277.




Chapter I


Gerty MacDowell's Reflected Internal Monologue Because we see Gerty MacDowell from so many different angles, she is a fully realized fictional character. We see her
through her own eyes and through the eyes of Joyce, who disguises his voice as a sentimental novelist. In that disguise Joyce also parodies various styles of writing, presents the effect of Gerty's "stream of consciousness," and comments on the
surrounding scene. We also see Gerty as she appears to Bloom and her friends on the beach. In order to demonstrate how Joyce created character and a unified form at the same time we will first discuss the nature of the parody employed by Joyce. Then we
will discuss other technical devices which contribute to the unity of the episode.


Joyce, in a letter to his friend, Frank Budgen, describes the episode as "namby-pamby, jammy, marmalady, drawersy,...with effects of incense, mariolatry, masturbation, stewed cockles, painter's palette, chitchat, circumlocutions, etc., etc."1 In an
earlier letter he wrote, "I have not written a word of "Nausicaa" beyond notation of Flapper's atrocities and general plan of the new fizzing style (patent No. 7728 ....)."2


Budgen points out that Gerty is presented in the style of such popular literature
as "the Bow Bells and Heartease novelettes, where the young governess makes the crowded ballroom gasp with her beauty, dressed in a simple white frock and wearing a single white rose."3


Harry Levin describes the narrator as "a sentimental lady novelist gushing over Gerty MacDowell."4 Melvin Friedman notes that Gerty's internal monologue is "written in the manner of an Ethel M. Dell type novel."5


Ethel M. Dell is representative of a group of sentimental novelists of the period. I have chosen her novelette Rosa Mundi as a typical example of her work with which to compare Gerty's reflected internal monologue. I felt that both the plot, which
has to do with an essentially innocent seduction of a man by a young girl and the language bear similarities to the "Nausicaa" episode. Whether Joyce actually read this particular novelette we do not know, but it is close enough to Gerty's parody to suggest
certain interesting parallels.


In Rosa Mundi a novelist, Rodney Courtney, while resting on a secluded beach, discovers an innocent and childlike girl. She tells him that she is the adopted daughter of Rosa Mundi who is an exotic Australian dancer. The novelist has heard of Rosa
Mundi, the cruel-hearted betrayer of a close friend, although he has never seen her. Rosemary, the young charge of Rosa Mundi, tries to convince Rodney that Rosa is a misunderstood women. She finally succeeds in getting Rodney to see Rosa Mundi's exotic dance. Rodney, who is almost in love with Rosemary at this point, agrees to see the dance. Afterwards he discovers that Rosemary and Rosa Mundi are one and the same, and that Rosa is married to a rich man. Apparently, she and her husband had made a bet on whether or not she could entice Rodney with her exotic dance.


A few passages from this tale will clearly establish certain interesting parallels between the Rodney-Rosemary story and the Bloom-Macdowell flirtation.


Rosemary is seen as a nymph-like creature "pattering lightly over the sand, flitting like a daydream into the blinding sunshine that seemed to drop a veil behind."6 Gerty is "as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could wish to see" (342).


One finds in this kind of delicate sentimental novel the "fizzing style" Joyce alluded to in his letter to Frank Budgen. Ethel Dell's novel "fizzes" with a sensual excitement in such
passages of rescue as the following one: "He flung off his coat as he ran, and dashed without an instant's pause straight into the green foaming waves. The water swirled around him as he struck out; he clove his way through it, all his energies concentrated upon the bobbing red cap and struggling arms ahead of him. Lifted on the crest of a rushing wave he saw her, helpless as an infant in the turmoil. Her terrified eyes were turned his way, wildly beseeching him. He fought with the water to reach her. He realized as he drew nearer that she was not wholly inexperienced. She was working against the current to keep herself up, but no longer striving to escape it. He saw with relief that she had not lost her head."7


Courtney, like Bloom, also ponders the ways of girls who are approaching womanhood: "He was not a lover of children. Moreover she was verging upon womanhood approaching what he grimly called the `dangerous' age."8 Bloom also has his doubts about the dangerous age in young girls. He thinks about his daughter, "clever little minx! I never told her. Neat way she carries parcels too. Attract men, small thing like that" (365).


Gerty and Rosemary are sisters in sentimentality. "Rosemary's soft eyes were suddenly lowered. She did not look like a child any longer, but a being sexless, yet very pitiful--
an angel about to weep."9 Gerty also tends to be weepy: "And yet and yet! That strained look on her face! A gnawing sorrow is there all the time. Her very soul is in her eyes and she would give worlds to be in the privacy of her own familiar chamber
where, giving way to tears, she could have a good cry" (345).


Rosemary confides to Courtney that Rosa Mundi longs for the respectability of marriage:  "They were nothing to her--nothing, until one day there came to her a boy--no, he was past his boyhood--a young man--rich, well born and honourable. And he loved her, and offered her marriage. No one had ever offered her that before...10


Although Gerty yearns to become Mrs. Reggie Wylie, she also desires more than a mere boy. Her ideal mate "would be tall with broad shoulders (she had always admired tall men for her husband) with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed
moustache..." (345).


Rosa Mundi is an entertainer who performs erotic dances. Gerty recalls "pictures cut out of papers of those skirt dancers and highkickers" (359). Rosa Mundi was disturbed because her dance had no effect upon Courtney when he first met her. Her main
ambition becomes to entice Courtney with her dance. Gerty strives to excite Bloom "like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen" (359). Both succeed in arousing their audiences. Courtney is caught by Rosa Mundi's dance:
She seized upon his fancy and flung it to and fro,
catching a million colors in her radiant flights. She
made the hot blood throb in his temples. She beat upon
the door of his heart. Then it was over. Like a
glittering crystal shattered to fragments his dream of
ecstasy collapsed.11


Gerty's exhibition ends with:


She would fain have cried to him chokingly, held out
her snowy slender arms to him to come, to feel his lips
laid on her white brow the cry of a young girl's love,
a little strangled cry, wrung from her that cry that
has rung through the ages. And then a rocket sprang and
bang shot blind and O! (360).


If we compare these two passages we can see the kind of language Joyce is parodying and how he is adapting it to perform the complex task of capturing the atmosphere of Gerty's mind, the sounds of the rocket display, and the sensations of Bloom's
orgasm. In the passage from Rosa Mundi we have such novelette cliche's as "dream of ecstasy," "door of his heart," and "radiant flights." In Gerty's passage we have such cliche's as "cried in raptures," "cried to him chokingly," and others. Both passages
lead to an exciting climax, with Joyce's rising to a poetic effect beyond the cliche's used for the passage:


Then the Roman candle burst and it was like a sigh of
O! and everyone cried O! O! in raptures and it gushed
out of it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they
shed and ah! they were all greeny dewy stars falling
with golden, O so lovely! O so soft, sweet, soft!
(360).


Both passages fade away after a crescendo. In Rosa Mundi the fade out begins with the line "then it was over..." and in Gerty's passage a similar type of fade occurs with, "Then all melted away dewily in the grey air: all was silent."


Whether or not Joyce was actually familiar with Rosa Mundi, that story is the typical sentimental romance he is parodying in the "Nausicaa" episode. It is the type of novel Gerty reads.Gerty does not mention Ethel Dell in her thoughts, but she does think about "Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales," whose novels are like Ethel Dell's.


It is ironic that a critic sympathetic to Ethel Dell's novels, Patrick Braybrooke, explains her popularity in terms that clearly indicate the appeal of this type of fiction to people
like Gerty MacDowell. These are the four reasons he gives for Ethel Dell's popularity:


1) They require no special effort to read.
2) Her books are clean.
3) "Many people base their delicious dreams on what they
    read, and Miss Dell"s books lend themselves to this
    service."12
4) They make people feel important by giving their
    characters good qualities.


In relation to the fourth reason, Braybrooke observes:


So many of our present day novelists, excellent as they
are as artists, only depict humanity as trivial, second
rate, without any sterling qualities, lust laden and
overawed by sex.13


For Dell, however,


The world is dark, the area steps look grimy, the clock
ticks monotonously on the mantelpiece. But Miss Dell
brings romance to the kitchen, romance to the
underlings of life.14


Joyce, in a very remarkable way, has transformed the unreal "escape" literature of the "underlings of life" and used it to capture the character of their lives. The following passage clearly shows the method Joyce has used to transform the diction of the sentimental novelette in order to capture Gerty's thoughts and feelings.

"Her words rang out crystal clear, more musical than the
cooing of the ringdove but they cut the silence icily.
There was that in her young voice that told that she
was not a one to be trifled with. As for Mr. Reggy with
his swank and his bit of money she could just chuck him
aside as if he was so much filth and never again would
she cast as much as a second thought on him and tear
his silly postcard into a dozen pieces."


Gerty's anger is delicately expressed in this passage. The
first half of the passage is descriptive in the narrator's parody of sentimental fiction. Then there is a sudden transition with "as for Mr. Reggy..." to Gerty's lower class Irish voice. As the narrator reflects less of Gerty's "stream of consciousness" through the mirror of parody, the tone becomes more that of a direct silent monologue. The repetitive use of "and" along with other connectives renders the syntax of Gerty's mind as she expresses her resentment. When she thinks that she will "tear his silly postcard into a dozen pieces," the language has moved some distance from the parody of the of the romantic novelette. It is not a letter she will tear up, but a "silly postcard."


The method of the "reflected internal monologue" allows the reader to grasp the ideal image Gerty has of herself while at the same time recognizing her personality within the context of her social reality. The few passages in which we get a glimpse of the real voice of Gerty usually relate to the two things which cause her genuine pain, i.e., her lameness and the fact that Reggy Wylie jilted her expressed by her tearing up his "silly postcard."


We hear Gerty's "natural" voice again when Cissy Caffrey
runs after a rolling ball, showing her legs, while the lame Gerty jealously thinks that Bloom is looking at her own legs and "not at her [Cissy's] insignificant ones that had neither shape nor form (the cheek of her!) because he had eyes in his head to see the difference for himself" (354). Here Gerty's voice comes in a parenthetical exclamation, as if her anger and jealously could not be kept within the decorous bounds of the conventional romantic novel.


Another way in which Gerty's true voice is heard is in the
Dublin dialect that slips through the tone of the reflected
internal monologue.
"...her own colour and the lucky colour too for a bride
to have a bit of blue somewhere on her because the
green she wore that day week brought grief because his
father brought him in to study for the intermediate
exhibition and because when she was dressing that
morning she nearly slipped up the old pair on her
inside out and that was for luck and lovers' meeting if
you put those things on inside out so long as it wasn't
of a Friday (344-45)."


With each "because" we slip deeper and deeper into Gerty's mind, until we reach her dialect ("as it wasn't of a Friday") and her folklore. Glimpses of Irish dialect seem to appear when domestic details such as cooking, laundry, and underclothes are mentioned.

Since sentimental novels rarely discuss such necessities of life, Gerty would have no language but her own with which to day dream of these domestic details.


Within the framework of the reflected internal monologue we do not have many occasions to see Gerty's non-literary mind because after a few short glimpses we are quickly pulled back into the tortuous ramblings of her novelistic day dream consciousness.


Gerty's mind is also a dump for other popular media besides
sentimental novels. Newspapers and magazines add considerably to the clutter. For example, there are the medical advertisements:
"Then there was blushing scientifically cured and how to be tall increase your height and you have a beautiful face but your nose?" (343). Note how the underpunctuation is suggestive both of the advertisement and of Gerty's associative process. Then there are the fashion magazines: " "Gerty was dressed simply but with the instinctive taste of a votary of Dame Fashion...A neat blue blouse of electric blue, selftinted by dolly dyes (because it was expected in Lady's Pictorial that electric blue should be
worn)..." (344).

From thence we pass to the social news columns
of the daily newspapers: "...she had known from the first that her daydream of a marriage has been arranged..." (345)., to the
recipe pages: "whisk well the white of eggs..." (346), to sales advertisements: "and chintz covers for the chairs and that silver toastrack in Glory's summer jumble sales..." (346), and so on.

Joyce achieves his parody largely by heaping together
hackneyed expressions and phrases which are derived from the material Gerty reads. In addition to heaping together a great number of cliches, Joyce often sets them incongruously side by side. For example, in the reflected internal monologue there are such inconsistent cliches as "boys will be boys and our twins were no exception to this golden rule" (356). Mixed metaphors and
inappropriate figures of speech not only provide a picture of the sentimental fiction that Gerty reads, they also reflect the
confusion in Gerty's mind toward that fiction.

The language used in Gerty's reflected monologue also serves to convey both her sexual feelings and Bloom's. The term "tumescence-detumescence" accurately describes the mounting turgidity, climax, and relief of the episode. Havelock Ellis's description of the term "tumescence-detumesence" to describe the "contents of the sexual impulse," clearly prefigures the close parallelism between the sexuality of the episode and its stylistic execution.


"We are now, in any event, in a better position to
define the contents of the sexual impulse. We see that
there are certainly two constituents in that impulse;
but instead of being unrelated, or only distantly
related, we see that they are really so intimately
connected as to form two distinct stages in the same
process; a first stage, in which--usually under the
parallel influence of internal and external stimuli--
images, desires, and ideals grow up within the mind,
while the organism generally is charged with energy and
the sexual apparatus is discharged amid profound sexual
excitement, followed by deep organic relief. By the
first process is constituted the tension which the
second process relieves. It seems best to call the
first impulse the process of tumescence; the second the
process of detumescence."15


The two stages of the sexual impulse which Havelock Ellis discusses
are conveyed in the "Nausicaa" episode through language, imagery,
and sound. In the first stage the reader experiences "the
parallel influences of internal and external stimuli" within
Gerty's "stream of consciousness." As "images, desires, and
ideals" grow up within her mind the prose becomes "congested" and
the episode is "charged with energy."


The rocket display midway through the episode symbolizes the
"second stage" in which "the sexual apparatus is discharged amid
profound sexual excitement." Bloom's internal monologue conveys the "deep organic relief" which is the remainder of the "process of detumescence." If we consider the
peculiar physiological design of Ulysses in which each episode
represents some organ and function of the body, then the orgasmic
functions of the genitals would be in keeping with the
physiological aspects of the book. In an earlier episode,
"Lestrygonians," the effects of hunger are presented, while in
"Nausicaa" the effects of sexual arousal are developed from
beginning to end.


To help understand how these effects develop an analogy may
be drawn between the "Liebstod" in Wagner's Tristan und Isolde
and the "Nausicaa" episode. Wagner slowly builds up the music by
a slow repetition of the melodic line, a hastening movement
toward the climax, and then a bursting forth of sound. Joyce
musically builds the first half of "Nausicaa" episode in a
similar fashion. Just as Wagner's music fades away, so does the
climatic prose of Gerty's section in the episode fade during
Bloom's internal monologue. The personalities of the characters
are never ignored for the effect. The swelling effect blends with
the characters and the action of the episode and serves to unify
the episode by allowing Bloom's thoughts to fade into a twilight
reverie.


Since the episode is written in words rather than musical
notes, the subtle verbal devices used to achieve this effect are
the careful ordering of grammatical units, the use of compound
words, various patterns of repetition, and the use of words for
their sound effect, as well as other devices.


The underpunctuation in the early part of Gerty's reflected
internal monologue, produces a strong, steady and flowing effect,
similar to Molly Bloom's unpunctuated internal monologue. The
flow of words is hypnotic:


But he was undeniably handsome with an exquisite nose
and he was what he looked, every inch a gentleman, the
shape of his head too at the back without his cap on
that she would know anywhere something off the common
and the way he turned the bicycle at the lamp with his
hands off the bars and also the nice perfume of those
good cigarettes and besides they were both of a size
and that was why Edy Boardman thought she was
frightfully clever because he didn't go and ride up and
down in front of her bit of a garden (343).


As the climax is approached the sleepiness of the prose is
relieved by the appearance of shorter and firmer sentences. A
count of the number of compounds words such as
"silkilyseductive," (342) and "self-tinted" (344) indicates that
they tend to diminish in frequency as the climax nears.
The tendency to compound words is characteristic of Joyce's
style and serves various functions. The tonal effect of compound
words in Gerty's internal monologue appears to retard the
swelling movement of the episode and as they occur less
frequently the pace of the episode picks up. This enlivening of
the pace of the prose coincides with the excitement of the
tumescent state approaching detumescence in Bloom's actions and
possibly Gerty's as well.


In the actual climax the repetition of exclamations is
highly emotive. The reserved and retarded language of Gerty's
daydreams are dissipated suddenly in a burst of language which is
genuinely realistic both of people beholding a display of rockets
and of Bloom's personal excitement. The words "sprang and bang,"
(360) in the passage describing the fireworks exemplifies the
effective use of onomatopoeia. Meaning and sound come together in
this climatic passage.


In addition to the particular verbal devices used, the
effect of swelling is reinforced by the ironic interweaving of
simultaneous sections. Gerty's inactivity contrasts sharply with
the activity surrounding her. Her only activity before she begins
to swing her legs is an unsuccessful attempt to kick a ball.
Otherwise, she is practically stationary throughout her
flirtation with Bloom. The sounds and movements of a service
coming from a nearby church in which a temperance retreat is
being held, and the activity of her friends on the beach
constitute the only other action. These two activities swell in
the same direction as her thoughts. The language of the church
ceremony, Gerty's friends, the mock narrator and Gerty's own
voice interweave ironically with each other in the direction of
the climax. Irony is gained through the sharp contrasts of these
different styles. The native idioms of Gerty and her friends
provide a deflating counterpoint to the inflated language of the
reflecting narrator and the service of the church.


Gustave Flaubert in Madame Bovary used this same technique,
which may be likened to a motion picture montage, in a somewhat
simpler form. While the opportunistic Rodolphe begins his
seduction of Emma Bovary, a Councillor, Monsieur Lieuvain,
addresses an audience at an agricultural show in the tones of the
artificial rhetoric which often commemorates national holidays.
In order to give the effect of Monsieur's Lieuvain's speech
to his rural audience as it is overheard from a neighboring room
by Emma and Rodolphe, Flaubert makes no attempt at transitions.
The lovers' conversation and the councillor's speech are simply
spaced apart:


"And, gentleman, I do not mean that superficial
intelligence, vain ornament of idle minds, but rather
that profound and balanced intelligence that applies
itself above all else to useful objects, thus
contributes to the good of all, to the common
amelioration and to the support of the state, born of
respect for law and the practice of duty---"


"Ah! again!" said Rodolphe. "Always `duty.' I am sick
of the word. They are a lot of old blockheads in
flannel vests and of old women with foot-warmers and
rosaries who constantly drone into our ears `Duty,
duty!' Ah! by Jove! one's duty is to feel what is
great, cherish the beautiful, and not accept all the
conventions of society..."16


Rodolphe's rhetoric is, of course, as false as Monsieur
Lieuvain's. The reader understands that without a direct comment
between the speech and Rodolphe's remarks. The point of view of
Emma and Rodolphe from their window alone justifies the fact that
they hear the speech while they are engaged in other matters. But
in the selectivity of detail the author is indirectly commenting
on and manipulating the scene through the presentation of actions
which seem to be external to the main action and occurring
autonomously from the main action.


Joyce uses this technique of external autonomous action by
running the various styles of speech parallel to each other
without explanatory transitions. Gerty apprehends and comments on
the actions of the ceremony and her friends just as Emma and
Rodolphe heed certain words of the orator. The attempt in both
cases is to portray a scene objectively without the direct
appearance of the author. Joyce, like Flaubert in the above cited
passage from Madam Bovary, is using the same crosscutting
techniques in the "Nausicaa" episode. those passages in which the
styles of Gerty's speech, the church ceremony, and the talk of
her friends interweave, we can clearly see both the ironic and
swelling effect the technique produces.


Gerty hears the sounds of the organ and the voices of "the
men's temperance retreat conducted by the missionary, the
reverend John Hughes, S.J. rosary, sermon and benediction of the
Most Blessed Sacrament," (347) as they drift across the beach
from the Star of the Sea Church. The ceremony begins quietly with
a description of the worshippers and rises with the praises of
the virgin: "They were there gathered together without
distinction of social class...beseeching her to intercede for
them, the old familiar words, holy Mary holy virgin of virgins.
How sad to poor Gerty's ears!" (347-48). The language of the
sermon is echoed in "They were there gathered...." Gerty is
saddened by the cries because her father had failed to take the
pledge.


Over and over again the dreary chant is intoned in rising praises:
Through the open window of the church the fragrant
incense was wafted and with it the fragrant incense was
wafted and with it the fragrant names of her who was
conceived without stain of original sin, spiritual
vessel, pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray
for us, mystical rose (350).


But the pious language of the chant is soon scattered by a sudden
transition to baby talk:


-Say papa, baby. Say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa.
And baby did his level best to say it for he was very
intelligent for eleven months everyone said and big for
his age and the picture of health, s perfect little
bunch of love, and he would certainly turn out to be
something great, they said.
-Haja ja ja haja (350).


The true vulgarians of the beach, Gerty's friends, are
constantly pin-pricking Gerty's daydream as well as the rhetoric
of the church by their earthy dialogue. Gerty wishes she were
well rid of them so that she can indulge in her fantasies without
their crude interruptions. The chant continues to crescendo as
Gerty thinks of her experiences in the confessional. The lofty
chant is again brought to earth by the movements and thoughts of
Gerty's friend Cissy:


Queen of angels, queen of patriarchs, queen of
prophets, of all saints, they prayed, queen of the most
holy rosary and then Father Conroy handed the thurible
to Canon O'Hanlon and he put in the incense and censed
the Blessed Sacrrement and Cissy Caffrey caught the two
twins and she was itching to give them a ringing good
clip on the ear...(353).


In this passage there is no transition between the sounds
coming from the church service and Cissy's catching the two
twins. The crosscutting of actions occurs within the passage
without any intervening spaces, unlike the crosscutting passages
in Madam Bovary. Cissy's actions and thoughts thus appear to
deflate the solemnity of the ceremony and satirically demonstrate
the earthly powers of "mariolatry," the worship of the Virgin.


Further on in the same section there is a delicate timing
between Gerty's flirtation with Bloom and the progress of the
ceremony:


...but she didn't because she thought he might be
watching but she never made a bigger mistake in all her
life because Gerty could see without looking that he
never took his eyes off of her and then Canon O'Hanlon
handed the thurible back to Father Conroy and knelt
down looking up at the Blessed Sacrament and the choir
began to sing Tantum Ergo and she just swung her feet
in and out in time as the music rose and fell to the
Tantumer gosa cramen tum (353).


After Gerty begins to swing her legs, then:


Canon O'Hanlon got up again and censed the Blessed
Sacrament and knelt down and he told Father Conroy that
one of the candles was just going to set fire to the
flowers and Father Conroy got up and settled it all
right and she could see the gentleman winding his watch
and listening to the works and she swung her leg more
in and out in time (355).


This passage is a masterpiece of indirection, clarity, and
irony. The flowers and burning candle can be seen as sexual
symbols within the context of the episode's sexual encounter. The
priests prevent any further heat from the candle from burning the
flowers. Bloom's winding his watch is suggestive of another
activity he is engaged in, and the rhythm of the organ music is
associated with Gerty's flirtatious strategy.


While the church service acts as an ironic comment on the
theme of mariolatry which runs throughout the episode, it also
adds to the swelling tumescent effect of the overall chapter. The
service starts out quietly, rises in intensity and then is along
with the actions of Gerty's friends, whose movements also add to
the quickening pace just before the climax of the fireworks. When
the friends see the fireworks they run toward them:


"And they all ran down the strand to see over the houses and the church,
helterskelter..."(359).


The service ends in the matter-of-fact tone of the priests preparing to leave just before the start of the fireworks.


Canon O'Hanlon...locked the tabernacle door because the
benediction was over and Father Conroy handed him his
hat to put on and crosscat Edy asked wasn't she coming
but Jacky Caffrey called out:


-O, look, Cissy!


And they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy
saw it too over the trees beside the church, blue and
then green and purple.


-It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey said.


And they all ran down the strand...(358-59).


The church service ends, Gerty's friends race down the beach, and
Gerty is then left to herself to show her legs to Bloom without
further interference amidst the brilliant rocket display which
brings the first half of the episode to its resolution.


Largely through a vigorous parody and inflation of the
language of piety, sentimentality, and vulgarity the stages of
Bloom's sexual excitement, orgasm and relief are presented. The
climax of the fireworks stands over the weakly sentimental,
pious, and vulgar evasions of life as a triumph of human biology
combined with the perversions of repressed feelings.


With Bloom's discovery of Gerty's lameness a touch of pathos
is added to her characterization. Once Gerty enters the world of
motion such lines as "come what might she would be free" (358)
and "the years were slipping by her..." (358) become more ironic,
since there the parody of Gerty's thoughts masks the pathos of
her position. Gerty's fantasy is disguised throughout by the
withholding of this detail until a critical moment when she limps
away from Bloom, waving her hand at him. At this point,
Gerty's daydream becomes an epiphany, Joyce's term for a moment
of insight into the nature of reality through art.


Gerty's monologue is further clarified by the candid
observations of Bloom which strip away any doubts or confusion
the reader may have as to what has taken place. Bloom's internal
monologue serves to shatter the false mirror that has been thrown
before Gerty's mind.


To sum up this chapter, Gerty's "stream of consciousness" is
rendered through the technique of the reflected internal
monologue, interspersed with the discreet use of Gerty's "real"
voice. In other words, Gerty's mind is seen through the
reflection of the language and style of the romance literature of
her time.


The use of the reflected internal monologue also captures
the process of tumescence-detumescence which informs the first
half of the episode. The swelling movement of Gerty's "stream of
consciousness" indirectly portrays the stages of Bloom's sexual
excitement while signalizing the satirical method of the novel as
a whole. In this chapter we have also examined some of the
devices used to bring about the swelling and releasing effect of
tumescence-detumescence, a technique which gives coherence and
unity to all the disparate elements in the scene.


NOTES


1 Letters of James Joyce, ed. Stuart Gilbert (New york:


Viking Press, 1957), 135.


2 Letters, 132.


3 Frank Budgen, James Joyce and the Making of Ulysses (New


York: Harrison Smith and Robert Haas, 1934), 204.


4 Levin, 105.


5 Melvin Friedman, Stream of Consciousness: A Study in


Literary Method (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955), 236.


6 Ethel M. Dell, Rosa Mundi and Other Stories (New York: The


Knickerbocker Press, 1921) 12.


7 Dell, 23.


8 Dell, 25.


9 Dell, 31.


10 Dell, 35.


11 Dell, 38.


12 Patrick Braybrooke, Some Goddesses of the Pen (London:


Daniel Co., 1927), 51.


13 Braybrooke, 52.


14 Braybrooke, 61.


15 Havelock Ellis, Studies in the Psychology of Sex New York:


Random House, 1942) volume I, 65.


16 Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary, trans. Eleanor M.


Aveling, Modern Library Edition (New York: Random House, n.d.),


166.






Chapter II


Bloom's Internal Monologue


In this chapter I show the nature of Bloom's internal


monologue, the relation of the intrusive to the monologue, and


the various ways in which the monologue unifies and gives a final


shape to the "Nausicaa" episode. In studying the basic techniques


used to portray Bloom's "stream of consciousness." I enter into a


discussion of Bloom's movements and thoughts outside the


"Nausicaa" episode in order to demonstrate how the episode


contributes to the total esthetic effect of Ulysses.


In order to achieve the first three objectives my method is


to compare and contrast certain aspects of Bloom's and Gerty's


monologues, to indicate how the effect of "tumescence-


detumescence" is continued throughout Bloom's monologue and to


study those passages in which the intrusive author makes his


appearance. Finally, I will try to show that the important role


of the "Nausicaa" episode is to rejuvenate Bloom's internal,


deepen our understanding of his character, motivate an important


action, and establish a definite feeling for his alienation.


The technique used to present Bloom's consciousness is the


reverse of the one used to present Gerty's mind. In giving the


impression of placing the reader in Gerty's mind, the narrator's


role of commenting, directing, and parodying is crucial. At times


the narrator's voice is subtly fused with Gerty's, and at other


times Gerty's actual voice can be heard. We refer to this


technique as the reflected internal monologue because the author


presents Gerty's "stream of consciousness" mainly through the


mirror in which she views herself and her ideals. Through the


apparent tones of parody, the author brings us closer to the


pitiful inadequacies of her mind.


But in Bloom's case the author dispenses with the mirror


technique. Bloom's thoughts are presented with a minimum amount


of interference by the author. Since most of Gerty's thoughts are


filtered, colored, and exaggerated by a mocking narrator, it is


assumed that her internal monologue is being shared with another


consciousness, i.e., the sentimental novelist's. Bloom's


thoughts, on the other hand, are presumably external to all other


minds, including that of the author of Ulysses who always sees


him from the outside for physical descriptions of his actions. No


one comments on, analyzes, or filters his thoughts. We do not


estimate his mind from the sound of another voice--we hear it as


it is. How do the qualities of his monologue compare with those


of Gerty's?


The two monologues are strikingly different in respect


syntax. Gerty's thoughts are underpunctuated; her sentences fuse


without control. While Gerty's thoughts are shown as fused


sentences, Bloom's are shown as fragments. The rhythm of his


sentences tends to be choppy and staccato; Gerty's sentences tend


to be rambling and slurred. Actually, Bloom's thoughts are


elliptical. For example, in such sentences as: "All quiet on


Howth now. The distant hills seem. Where we," the reader is


required to fill in the omissions of necessary sentence elements,


which are for the most part obvious. In Gerty's prolix monologue,


the reader must at times disregard inane repetitions in order to


understand the underlying thought of the passage. Whatever


grammatical inversions, ellipses, or prolixities we find, we can


assume that for the most part they are justified as an attempt to


capture pre-verbal thought. In any case, Joyce's grammar of the


mind can be further justified by the kind of character he has


created. Circumlocutions are natural for the delicately minded


Gerty. We must grope our way to the end of her periodic sentences


before a definite thought emerges. The frank and prosaic Bloom,


however, can express his thoughts completely in a few words.


Bloom's internal monologue then is characterized by its


candor. For the most part he doe not try to suppress what is on


his mind. Gerty, on the other hand, generally tries to suppress


painful thoughts. She alludes only once to her lameness as such


("and that was an accident coming down Dalkey Hill and she always


tried to conceal it" (358). When she thinks of her menstrual


difficulties, she remembers, "when she told about that in


confession up to the roots of her hair for fear he could


see..."(352), but she does not `that' even to herself. Bloom does


find the name for `that': "Some women for instance warn you off


when they have their period. Come near. Then get a hogo you could


hang your hat on. Like what: Potted herrings gone stale


or..."(358).


There are times when Bloom will not name what is bothering


him. He thinks, "I am a fool perhaps. He gets the plums and I the


plumstones. Where I come in...(370). The names of Molly Bloom and


Blazes Boylan are circumvented with `he' and `plums'.


In both Gerty's and Bloom's internal monologue, Joyce makes


as obvious effort to have the reader distinguish between


chronological time and psychological time. For example, at the


beginning of the episode little Tommy Caffrey is taken behind the


pushcar to relieve himself. Meanwhile, Gerty is introduced to us,


and for several pages we are exposed to her thoughts. After what


seems to be an interminable length of time in Gerty's mind, we


are returned to the completed action of Tommy Caffrey,


We are also made aware of the rapidity of Bloom's thoughts


through a similar device. Gerty waves a scented handkerchief in


Bloom's direction when she leaves. After seven pages of rapid


thought Bloom first detects the perfume. The difference in time


that it takes between Gerty and Bloom to arrive at a landmark


point in the action of the narrative would indicate the


difference in the rate of speed of the thoughts of the two


characters.


The very contrast in technique, tone, and style between the


two monologues helps to conclude the effect of "tumescence-


detumescence." This effect, as has been previously been pointed


out, is characterized by a mounting turgidity, a climactic


discharge, and a state of relief followed by exhaustion and rest.


The turgidity and climactic discharge appear in Gerty's


monologue. Bloom's monologue brings, with its short and concise


sentences, relief from the turgid prose of Gerty's monologue.


Gerty's internal monologue opens in the tranquil and sleepy


tones of the parodying narrator. With the introduction of Gerty


and the church service the prose becomes more turgid until it


reaches the climax of the rocket display. Bloom's monologue


begins at a point near the end of the climax and then descends to


a point of repose in which his thoughts cease. The concluding


phase of "tumescence-detumescence" are represented by a slowing


down of the pattern of Bloom's thoughts and exclamations.


Despite the apparent randomness of Bloom's thoughts, there


is a definite pattern established at the beginning of his


monologue. His thoughts move back and forth from observations of


the immediate scene, to reminiscences and generalizations on the


nature of love and life, to thoughts of his wife and daughter.


Each cycle of thought is punctuated by an emotional exclamation


which also represents his sexual excitement and subsequent


disgust. The first exclamation, "O!" (361) reflects his shock at


the discovery of Gerty's lameness. Shortly afterwards, after


commenting on Gerty and her friends, assuring himself that he


still has the letter from Martha Clifford (the woman with whom he


has been secretly corresponding), and reminiscing about the past


with his wife, Molly, and daughter, Milly, he exclaims, "Ah!" We


again hear the exclamation "Ah!" after he thinks of Molly and of


her present infidelity. These exclamations are set off by


themselves. Later, Bloom exclaims, "Lord," (366)--then, after


slightly hurting himself, he exclaims "Ow!" By this time the


pleasure has worn off, and he subsequently exclaims,


"Ba," several times in disgust at the circling bats. His thoughts


now tend to be more contemplative and gloomy. He thinks, "O!


Exhausted that female has me. Not so young now" (374). These


exclamations, set off as they are, clearly round out each group


of thoughts and express directly Bloom's post-detumescent feelings.


The fireworks, which symbolized Bloom's orgasm earlier in


the episode, have ended. A single rocket now symbolizes Bloom's


exhaustion: "A lost long candle wandered up the sky from Mirus


bazaar in search of funds for Mercer's hospital and broke,


drooping..."(372).


Towards the close of the episode there are two significant


passages within Bloom's monologue which further the feeling of


fatigue and repose. There is a summary of the day's events and an


erotic dream which focuses on Molly. Bloom, preparing to leave,


thinks:


Better not stick here all night like a limpet. This


weather makes you dull. Must be getting on for nine by


the light. Go home. Too late for Leah, Lilly of


Killarney. No. Might be still up. Call to the hospital


to see. Hope she's over. Long day I've had. Martha, the


bath, funeral, house of keys, museum with those


goddesses, Dedalus' song. Then that bawler in Barney


Kiernan's. Got my own back there (373).


This passage obviously connects the "Nausicaa" episode with the


events of the day and anticipates Bloom's visit to the hospital,


the subject of the following episode. But the summary of the


events in Bloom's day fixes in our mind the chronological


importance of the "Nausicaa" episode and draws the episode to a


close. Furthermore, these thoughts carry the weight of fatigue by


suggesting the wanderings of Bloom and the dangers he has faced.


Joyce explores Bloom's subconscious mind as Bloom dozes off


in an attempt to recapture a dream of Molly in Turkish costume.


The effect of the dream is gained by the fusion of phrases that


have become familiar to the reader from Bloom's monologue in this


and other episodes:


O sweety all your little girlwhite up I saw dirty


bracegirdle made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace


darling she him half past the bed met him pike hoses


frillies for Raoul to perfume your wife black hair


heave under embon senorita young eyes Mulvey plump


dreams return tail and Agendath swoony lovey showed me


her next year in drawers return next in her next her


next (375).


The dream, by focusing on the major preoccupations of


Bloom's mind presents them as a unified impression in contrast to


the random jumping of his conscious thoughts. Molly is identified


with the adulteress in the pornographic book, Sweets of Sin,


which Bloom had bought earlier in the day. Bloom's flirtation


with Gerty, his concern over Molly, and vague yearnings for his


Jewish homeland overlap and circle in a closed circuit. After


this unified impression, Bloom's thoughts cease. The intrusive


narrator steps in, and then, in the last paragraph of the


episode, we hear once more the language of Gerty's reflected


internal monologue.


Because it was a little canarybird that came out of its


little house to tell the time that Gerty MacDowell


noticed the time she was there because she was quick as


anything about a thing like that, was Gerty MacDowell,


and she noticed at once that that foreign gentleman


that was sitting on the rocks was


Cuckoo


Cuckoo


Cuckoo (376).


This ending recalls and recaptures the opening mood of


tranquility. At the same time it binds the episode together by


using material that had been introduced previously, such as the


clock in the priest's house. In addition, the sound of the clock


enables the episode to fit in naturally with the rest of the book


by reminding us that Bloom had been cuckolded that day. In short,


the close of the episode ties together the effect of "tumescence-


detumescence," Gerty's eroticism, the picture of the church


service and the priests, and Bloom's dropping off to sleep, with


a basic theme of the novel--Bloom's cuckoldry.


Bloom's internal monologue can in general be summed up as


being elliptical, candid, and rapid: Gerty's monologue tends to


be slurred, secretive, and drowsy. Unlike Gerty's monologue, it


is also characterized by a minimum amount of outside


interference. But that minimum amount of interference helps to


effect the passage from Gerty's to Bloom's mind. The brief


appearances of the intrusive author also help the reader to


distinguish Bloom's actions from his internal thoughts. Earlier


in the episode the brief dialogues of Gerty's friends performed


the same function of allowing the reader to know exactly what was


happening. Without the appearance of the intrusive author in


Bloom's monologue, the scene would be vague and lack texture. In


order to demonstrate this point, I will present some of the brief


intrusions of the author.


After Bloom's introductory and startled discovery, "tight


boots? no. She's lame! O!" (360), the narrator interjects one


short sentence to solidify the return to Bloom: "Mr Bloom watched


as she limped away." This statement is followed by about two


pages of Bloom's racy thoughts until the author again intervenes:


"Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt" (363).


Aside from being short, objective, and descriptive, these


statements are also highly unobtrusive. We are never signalled


back to Bloom's thoughts by a conventional transition. We are led


back to Bloom's mind without any difficulty because we are hardly


aware of the intrusive author who neither parodies nor evaluates.


When we next encounter the narrator there is a transformation


in his voice:


A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting


crackles. Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads. And Cissy and


Tommy ran out to see and Edy after with the pushcar and


then Gerty beyond the curve of the rocks (366).


In addition to the slight expansion of the narrator's voice here,


there is a return to the language of Gerty's reflected internal


monologue. The first sentence describes the fireworks and the


third sentence recalls the familiar "and...and...and..."


construction which the narrator used to capture Gerty's method of


associating thoughts. The passage has the effect of binding the


episode by recalling an earlier tone and action.


But we can again see how unobtrusively the author steps in


when Bloom curiously sniffs himself: "Mr Bloom inserted his nose.


Hm. Into the. Hm. Opening of his waistcoat" (369). The


discontinuity of the author's voice interspersed with Bloom's


thoughts creates a kind of syncopated counterpoint between both


of them, and it also shows how closely intertwined the narrator's


comments are with Bloom's actual musings. When Bloom notices


something on the beach he thinks, "What's that? Might be money."


Then the narrator steps in with: "Mr Bloom stopped and turned


over a piece of paper on the strand. He brought it near his eyes


and peered." Then we return to Bloom when he thinks: "Letter? No"


(374).


After Bloom falls asleep we hear again the narrator's voice,


but this time it is more poetic than it was in the previous short


intrusions: "A bat flew. Here. There. Here. Far in the grey a


bell chimed. Mr Bloom with open mouth, his left foot sanded


sideways, leaned, breathed. Just a few" (375). As the cuckoo


clock tells the hour there is a brief description of the priests


eating supper and finally a return to the reflecting narrator of


Gerty's "stream of consciousness."


The objective narrator therefore performs the function of


giving the reader information necessary for the understanding of


the action. He also helps to bind the episode together be


recalling the language and action of Gerty's internal monologue.


The intrusive narrator, however, performs one other function: he


helps to relate the episode to the rest of Ulysses. For we once


hear a voice that is neither Bloom's nor the stage-directing


author's. It is the voice which poetically summarizes the choppy


thoughts of Bloom.


As Bloom begins to doze off he thinks:


Howth. Bailey Light. Two, four, six, eight, nine...Sea.


Has to change or they might think it is a house...Also


glowworms, cyclists: lighting up time...All quiet on


Howth now. The distant hills seem. Where we. The


rhododendrons...All that old hill has seen. Names


change: that's all. Lovers: yum yum (369-70).






These musings are later recapitulated more fully by the


narrator:






A lost long candle wandered up the sky from Mirus


Bazaar in search of funds for Mercer's hospital and


broke, drooping, shed a cluster of violet but one white


stars. They floated, fell: they faded. The shepherd's


hour: the hour of holding: hour of tryst. From house to


house, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the


nine o'clock postman, the glowworm's lamp at his belt


gleaming here and there through the laurel hedges. And


among the five young trees a hoisted linstock lit the


lamp at Leahy's terrace. By screens of lighted windows,


by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing:


Evening Telegraph, stoppress edition! Result of the


Gold Cup Race! and from the door of Dingnam's house a


boy ran out and called. Twittering the bat flew here,


flew there. Far out over the sands the coming surf


crept, grey. Howth settled for slumber tired of long


days of yumyum rhododendrons (he was old) and felt


gladly the night breeze lift , ruffle the fell of


ferns. He lay but opened a red eye unsleeping, deep and


slowly breathing, slumbrous but awake. And far on Kish


bank the anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr


Bloom (372).


If we compare Bloom's passage with the intrusive author's


description, we can see first the restatement and development of


Bloom's musings. Bloom thinks: "glowworms, cyclists..." In the


author's description we have: "the glowworms lamp at his belt..."


For Bloom's thought, "The rhododendrons..." the authorial


intervention runs, "Howth settled for slumber..." The descriptive


passage which blankets Bloom's musings captures mood and ambience


of the setting from the Bloomian point of view, while still


maintaining a strong objective position outside of Bloom's mind.


The tone and style of the intrusive author's description


from the long passage just cited is not like the short and


objective statements inserted between Bloom's thoughts, nor like


the parody used to render Gerty's inner monologue. This tone


comes close to the undisguised Joycean literary voice. It is the


subterranean voice of Joyce's own consciousness.


This voice may be heard in his earlier work, Dubliners. "Two


Gallants," opens in a style similar to the descriptive passage


under discussion:


The grey warm evening of August had descended upon the


city and a mild warm air, a memory of summer,


circulated in the streets. The streets, shuttered for


the repose of Sunday, swarmed with a gaily coloured


crowd. Like illumined pearls the lamps shone from the


summits of their tall poles upon the living texture


below which, changing shape and hue unceasingly, sent


up into the warm grey evening air an unchanging,


unceasing murmur.1


Both these authorial descriptions show Joyce's virtuosity in


creating a pictorial landscape to surround the consciousness of


his characters' minds. The close of the "Anna Livia Plurabelle"


section of Finnegans Wake is also conveyed in the manner of


sleepy night music which rises to a high level of poetic


intensity: "Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters


of. Flittering bats...Dark Hawk hear us. Night! Night!"2


By summarizing and developing some of Bloom's thoughts in a


tone and style that lies outside of those heard in the "Nausicaa"


episode, the passage tends to relate the episode to the larger


framework of Ulysses. Echoes from another episode are also heard


in the middle of the passage: "By screens of open windows, by


equal gardens..." The phrase using the by construction in the


"Siren" episode runs: "Bronze by gold..." and the particular


construction was used throughout the episode in such sentences as


: "By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Elvery's elephant jingle


jogged"(267). In that episode Bloom was again a lonely viewer of


the scene which featured a group of singers. Thus the motif of


his isolation from the community is recalled by the use of


similar phrases from the earlier episode. There are associations


with other earlier episodes as well such as: "stoppress edition!


Result of the Gold Cup Race!" and the boy who runs out "from the


door of Dingnam's house," which seems to indicate that Joyce


intended to get a binding effect from this important and pivotal


passage we have been discussing. It is the voice of the Joycean


narrator that helps to relate the "Nausicaa" episode to the rest


of the book.


The "Nausicaa" episode allows Joyce to return once again,


for the last time, to the internal monologue for creating the


illusion of Bloom's "stream of consciousness." The use of Bloom's


internal monologue is discreetly apportioned throughout Ulysses.


The first three episodes of Bloom's introduction to the book--


"Calypso," "Lotus Eaters," and "Hades,"--are all cast in that


form. In those episodes we become acquainted with the various


aspects of Bloom as well as the important verbal motifs and


themes that run through the book. The internal monologue, as it


is used in the beginning of the "Calypso" episode, brings us


immediately into Bloom's wakened consciousness after a short and


pointed description by the unobtrusive narrator:


Mr Leopold Bloom ate the inner organs of beasts and


fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a


stuffed roast heart, liver slices fried with


crustcrumbs, fried hencod's roes...






The coals were reddening.






Another slice of bread and butter: three, four: right.


She didn't like her plate full. Right (55).


With the opening description and Bloom's internal musings, we are


immediately struck by his prosaic and earthy qualities as he


putters around, prepares breakfast for his wife, and feeds the


cat. But in the "Hades" episode we glance at another aspect of


Bloom when he reflects:


Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the six


feet by two with his toes to the daisies? No touching


that. Seat of the affections. Broken heart. A pump


after all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every


day. One fine day it gets bunged up and there you are.


Lots of them lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers.


Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else. The resurrection


and the life. Once you are dead you are dead (104).


Bloom can rise above the prosaic, as we can see from the


above passage reminiscent of Hamlet's graveyard scene. Bloom's


thoughts are philosophical and even poetical in their intensity.


The shift from prosaic internal monologue to "poetical" internal


monologue is subtle. In order to convey the poetry of Bloom's


mind, as well the complex relations of his central character in


relation to the people he encounters as he roams through the


city, Joyce supplements Bloom's internal monologue with other


stream-of-consciousness techniques. Examples of these other


techniques can be found in "Lestrygonians," "The Wandering


Rocks," "The Cyclops," and other episodes in which Bloom appears.


The use of these techniques broadens the scope of the novel and


allows the reader to see Bloom in the different contexts of his


daylong journey.


The importance of the "Nausicaa" episode, then, is that it


allows us to see Bloom through the eyes of a young daydreaming


girl and then through his own eyes. Then we see the daydreaming


young girl, Gerty MacDowell, through Bloom's eyes expressed in


his internal monologue. This strategy strengthens the objective


method of the book defined as the impersonal relationship between


the author and his characters. Joyce is showing us a personal


event in Bloom's life while preserving a maximum distance from


the event. He is also relieving the tedium of Bloom's internal


monologue by introducing an internal monologue with a


diametrically opposed principle of tediousness--wordiness. We


eagerly return to Bloom's racy self-talk with great relief after


the suspense of the break in the main narrative of Gerty's


romantic and homey thoughts.


We hear Bloom's internal monologue for the last time in the


"Nausicaa" episode. In the following episode, "The Oxen of the


Sun," the various styles of prose used throughout English


literary history are parodied for the apparent special effect of


representing the action of that episode, the birth of Mrs


Purefoy's baby. At the hospital where the birth is taking place


Bloom and Stephen meet amid the roistering of Buck Mulligan and


his friends. Later, in the "Circe" episode, effects are used to


create a fantasy state. After the exhaustion of the brothel scene


in the "Circe" episode, Stephen and Bloom enter a cabmen's


shelter in the following "Eumaeus" episode. In this episode


Bloom's internal monologue is cast in the same type of reflected


internal monologue used to render Gerty MacDowell's in the


"Nausicaa" episode. Here is a sample of Bloom's reflected


internal monologue from the "Eumaeus" episode:


After all, hang it, they had their eleven and more


humdrum months of it and merited a radical change of


venue after the grind of city life in the summertime,


for choice, when Dame Nature is at her spectacular


best, constituting nothing short of a new lease of


life. There were equally excellent opportunities for


vacationists in the home island, delightful sylvan


spots for rejuvenation, offering a plethora of


attractions as well as a bracing tonic for the system


in and around Dublin and its picturesque


environs...(612).


Compare Gerty's thoughts on honeymooning with the above passage:


...and they would go on the continent for their


honeymoon (three wonderful weeks!) and then, when they


settled down in a nice snug and cosy little homely


house, every morning they would both have brekky,


simple but perfectly served, for their own two selves


and before he went out to business he would give his


dear little wifey a good hearty hug and gaze for a


moment deep down into her eyes (346).


In both passages there are clich‚s and underpunctuations of


long and overelaborated sentences. While the language of the


sentimental novel is parodied in the "Nausicaa" episode, the


language of business, law, and advertising is parodied in the


"Eumaeus" episode. Also, Bloom and Stephen stand somewhat in the


same relation to each other as Gerty and Bloom did in the


disparity of their educational backgrounds, reflected in their


differences of language, thoughts, and values.


The absence of climax in the "Eumaeus" episode, the kind


found in the "Nausicaa," conveys the vitae taedium experienced by


Bloom and Stephen after their orgiastic experiences in the


"Circe" episode. Joyce's parodying of the various popular


"languages" and rhetoric commonly encountered richly serves the


purpose of rendering stream of consciousness of Bloom and Gerty.


Stephen and Molly Bloom also have their languages, but that calls


for another analysis.


In terms of the naturalistic ground plan of Ulysses, Bloom's


encounter with Gerty appears plausible and realistic. But how


about his meeting with Stephen Daedelus in the following episode,


"The Oxen of the Sun"? The break from the "Nausicaa" episode to


"The Oxen of the Sun" episode is a sharp one. While Bloom's visit


to the hospital where Mrs Purefoy is giving birth is convenient


for the author's plan to have the two main characters meet, can


it be justified as a natural development of the characters


movements throughout the course of the day? Stephen's appearance


at the hospital is motivated by his association with Buck


Mulligan. But why is Bloom there? Miles Hanley answers the


question as follows:


...the identification Bloom-Beaufoy-Purefoy is


unmistakable, and it is apparently this outgrowth of


the "prize titbit" image that is responsible for his


going to the hospital where he meets Stephen. We can be


reasonably sure of this, far-fetched as it may


seem...If Leopold Bloom had not found "prize titbit" in


his morning paper, he probably would not have gone to


the hospital, and the whole second half of Ulysses


would have been an entirely different story.3


Hanley's explanation fails to take into account the episodic


structure of Ulysses. I would revise the explanation of the


question by stating that if Bloom had not encountered Gerty


MacDowell "the whole second half of Ulysses would have been an


entirely different story." The best indication of the impact that


the encounter with Gerty has had upon Bloom lies in the following


passage where he reflects upon the destinies of Gerty and her


friends:


Sad however because it lasts only a few years till they


settle down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon


fit Willy and fuller's earth for the baby when they


hold him out to do ah. No soft job. Saves them. Keeps


them out of harm's way. Nature. Washing child, washing


corpse. Dignam. Children's hands always round them.


Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, not even closed at first.


Sour milk in their swaddles and tinted curds. Oughtn't


to have given that child an empty teat to suck. Fill it


up with wind. Mrs Beaufoy, Purefoy. Must call to the


hospital (366).


Bloom has, in a way, fallen to earth after soaring at the


end of "Cyclops." In his present earthbound state and in his


contemplation of the lame Gerty, he is returned to the community,


and his interest in it is restored. The Beaufoy-Purefoy


association referred to by Hanley lies within the entire context


of Bloom's reflections on Gerty and domesticity. Thus his visit


and interest in Mrs Purefoy is part of this whole movement back


to earth, back to the jobs of mothering and childrearing, home


and hearth.


Although Bloom's and Gerty's monologues must differ markedly


in tone, style, and point of view, they are related stylistically


through the techniques of "tumescence-detumescence" and by the


manner in which the outside author subtly binds the monologues.


The author's voice relates the episode to other episodes by


referring to past events and by its consistently flat and neutral


observation of the scene, merging at times poetically with


Bloom's and Gerty's drowsy subconscious musings.


The "Nausicaa" episode marks the end of Bloom's daytime


conscious internal monologue and begins the shift into the more


complex evening stream-of-consciousness episodes which are to


follow. It also provides the rationale for Bloom's visit to the


hospital where Mrs Purefoy is giving birth.






NOTES


1James Joyce, "Two Gallants," Dubliners, The Portable James


Joyce, ed. Harry Levin (The Viking Press, 1948), 59.






2James Joyce, Finnegans Wake (The Viking Press, 1939), 215.






3Miles L. Hanley and others, Word Index to James Joyce's


Ulysses (Univ. of Wisconsin Press, 1937), 392.










SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS


The techniques of internal monologue, "tumescence-


detumescence," montage, and symbolic action, enable us to enter


into the minds of Gerty MacDowell and Leopold Bloom. These


techniques are also successful in developing character and


unifying the episode to make it a part of the larger structure of


the novel.


The complexity of representing Gerty's stream of


consciousness consists of the interplay between a narrator who


mirrors her mind in the tones of a parody and Gerty's genuine


inner voice. What is parodied, for the most part, is the type of


fiction Gerty reads, love novels of the period. The effectiveness


of using the kind of clich‚s and sentiments found in love novels


of the Ethel Dell type lies in the exchange between the values


they create for the reader along with the readers ability to go


along with these values. The ideals of elegance and refinement


represented in this type of fiction helps someone like Gerty to


build her self-esteem, but the parody of the tender hearted


romances conflicts with the elemental simplicity and sexuality of


the scene, thus creating the parody and satire, which exists for


the reader but not for the characters. The entire movement of the


episode parallels and portrays the effects of Bloom's sexual


excitement, masturbation, orgasm, relief and exhaustion through


the technique of "tumescence-detumescence." This technique acts


in close conjunction with the technique of montage. Gerty's


flirtation, the prayers from the church, and the movements of


Gerty's friends are all closely timed. Bound by Gerty's point of


view, they intertwine and swell in the same direction of the main


climax. Just as the turgid language of the mocking narrator is


punctured by Gerty's simple and naive voice, so too is the turgid


language of the church service punctured by the earthy sounds of


Gerty's friends.


The contrast between Gerty's and Bloom's monologues assists


the techniques of "tumescence-detumescence." Bloom's short,


frank, and rapid sentences help to scatter the clich‚-structure


of Gerty's reflected internal monologue. The pattern of his


thoughts, the role of the intrusive author, and the montage at


the close of the episode further the effects of fatigue and


repose.


According to Joyce's esthetic theories, as they are


enunciated by Stephen Dedalus, does the episode arouse "the


feelings excited by proper art?" Is the mind "arrested and raised


above desire and loathing" or is it arrested solely to those


feelings--"desire or loathing"?1 Given the morbid sexuality of


the episode, the earthiness of Bloom's reflections and the


inanities of Gerty's mind, one might conclude that the readers'


mind is not "raised above desire and loathing." Behind the harsh


realities and the comic effects of the episode lies the more


ponderous reality of Bloom's solitude and Gerty MacDowell's


fantasy world. Their inability to communicate beyond the sexual


level is unfortunate but understandable given Gerty's


conventionality and Bloom's obsession with his wife, Molly. Yet


despite these and other barriers, the orgasmic climax of the


episode achieves the unifying at-oneness of the world of Ulysses,


a novel that is the mirror of our world as well.


NOTES


1 James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in


The Portable James Joyce, 470.










BIBLIOGRAPHY










Braybrooke, Patrick. Some Goddesses of the Pen. London: Daniel


Co., 1927.






Budgen, Frank. James Joyce and the Making of `Ulysses.' New York:


Harrison Smith and Robert Haas, 1934.






Dell, Ethel M. Rosa Mundi and Other Stories. New York: The


Knickerbocker Press, 1921.






Ellis, Havelock. Studies in the Psychology of Sex. Vol. I. New


York: Random House, 1942.






Ellman, Richard. "The Backgrounds of Ulysses," The Kenyon Review,


XVI (Summer, 1954), 337-86.






Flaubert, Gustave. Madam Bovary. Translated by Eleanor M.


Aveling. Modern Library Edition, New York: Random House, n.d.






Friedman, Melvin. Stream of Consciousness: a Study in Literary


Method. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955.






Gilbert, Stuart. James Joyce's `Ulysses.' New York: Vintage


Books, 1955.






Hanley, Miles L., and Others. Word-Index to James Joyce's


`Ulysses.' Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1937.






Hendry, Irene. "Joyce's Epiphanies," in James Joyce: Two Decades


of Criticism. Edited by Seon Givens. New York: Vanguard Press,


1948.






Humphrey, Robert. Stream of Consciousness in the Modern Novel.


Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press,


1954.






James, William. The Principles of Psychology. New York: Holt and


Co., 1904.






Joyce, James. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young man in The


Portable James Joyce. Edited by Harry Levin. New York: The


Viking Press, 1948.






. Dubliners in The Portable James Joyce. Edited by Harry


Levin. New York: The Viking Press, 1948.






. Finnegans Wake. New York: The Viking Press, 1939.






. Letters of James Joyce. Edited by Stuart Gilbert. New


York: The Viking Press. 1957.






. Ulysses, Modern Library, New York: Random house, 1946.






Kenner, Hugh. Dublin's Joyce. Bloomington: Indiana University


Press, 1956.






Levin, Harry. James Joyce: A Critical Introduction. Norfolk: New


Direction, 1941.






Tindall, William. Forces in Modern British Literature: 1885-1946


New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1947.






Toynbee, Philip. "A Study of James Joyce's Ulysses," in James


Joyce: Two Decades of Criticism. Edited by Seon Givens. New


York: Vanguard Press, 1948.