ENGL 5698: Reading "The Dead" @reading-the-dead - Tumblr Blog

Circe: Bringing back the dead

As we conclude the semester by reading the chapter based on Joyce’s chapter in Ulysses, I wanted to focus on the dead and the visions that occur in the last few pages of “Circe.” Firstly, the section we are to look at today begins with the reappearance of Stephen’s mother’s ghost. Stephen is haunted by the memory of his late mother and obviously still feels guilty for the way they parted, for lack of a better term. When she says, “all must go through it, Stephen. More women than men in the world. You too. Time will come” (35). The following stage direction says that Stephen “chok[es] with fright, remorse and horror” (35). By the reappearance of her ghost, Stephen is not only reminded of her death and his rejection of prayer, but he is also reminded of his mortality. Once again Stephen must face the dead - and his own death - and in the process, proceed living. This is a challenge that links him to Leopold Bloom.

Bloom, in turn, has his own issues to deal with. He must confront visions of others, ones that a psychoanalyst might call the subconscious trying to break through to his reality. Bloom’s problems with identity and expression become almost tangible as he makes his way through the city as he follows Stephen, even into the brothel. The portion of the chapter ends with a vision of Bloom’s own deceased son, Rudy, dressed to the nines but still dead all the same. It is a plausible suggestion to say that Bloom’s paternal care for Stephen is related to his unconscious desire to project fatherly love onto a son-replacement. Rudy’s ghost, though we aren’t given much of a reaction in the text to work with, affects Bloom. When he sees the ghost of his boy, he looks on, “wonderstruck” (42). Rudy’s ghost, or the changeling, as he is called, doesn’t speak but maintains the mythical and untouchable air about him. This last moment shows that Bloom’s ghosts still haunt him too. From this, Bloom’s relationship and care for Stephen demonstrates that Bloom too, is lost between reminders of the dead and of death itself, but must continue to live in the present.

-Keira

Hail, Sisyphus

In these pages from Ulysses, Stephen Dedalus offers the reader a poignant image for a loss of selfhood, or rather the loss of what once defined one’s selfhood: “My centre of gravity is displaced” (38). He is off balance, easily tipped over, teetering between uprightness and tumbling to the ground, because of an existential dislocation. The soldiers he confronts in the scene, however, are still firmly placed on the Earth, defined as they are by their occupation. As Stephen says, “shirt is synechdoche,” and the association of soldierhood with uniforms situates the identities of Privates Carr and Compton with the broader military collective (38). The description of the British poet laureate Alfred Lord Tennyson, too, intensifies this sartorial/selfhood relationship – Tennyson is clad in a “Union Jack blazer and cricket flannels,” stereotypically and enthusiastically British in his dress (38). It is interesting to note, too, that Tennyson is the other English language writer who produced a famous work entitled “Ulysses,” though his was far less a modern interpretation of Homer than it was an imagining of wily Odysseus’ later days.

The juxtaposition of Stephen Dedalus – young, Irish, Joyce’s stand-in – and Tennyson – aging (he’s “flowingbearded”), successful, British – reorients the conflict in this scene away from “drunk man vs. his antagonizers” and towards one of identity vs. identity. Dedalus, after all, rejects what Tennyson, Carr, and Compton use to assert their selfhoods – their king. “ In his mind, he says, “he must kill the priest and king,” identifying both the political head of England (and of Ireland) and the spiritual heads of Ireland. And he seems to have succeeded with his intellectual regicide – “I have no king for myself for the moment,” he says – though considered his displaced centre of gravity it seems that this has caused him some existential trouble (38). This, I believe, is illuminated by a line from the page before – “Hail, Sisyphus,” Stephen says, invoking the perpetually tormented, boulder-pushing denizen of Hades (37). A Sisyphean reading of Stephen’s regicide, therefore, means that it must a constant effort, a never-ceasing revolution against the rulers of the mind. He might be displaced at the moment, but that displacement allows him to find his own footing.

-Emmett Schlenz

Poor old Ireland haunts the living and the dead

I think what touched me most in “Circe” was the debate between Stephen and the private carr at the end of the story. Stephen claims that he doesn't have a king at the moment. He dies for his country, and his real wish is to let his country die for him. Afterwards, he said:” Damn death. Long live life” (38).

If there is some consistency between “The Dead’ and “Circe,” I would say that it is how James Joyce thinks about the relationship between the living and the dead. He uses haunting to discuss patriarchy and patriotism. The haunting is only an agency that brings back the past that affects the living. If the past is not treated in a right way, the ghosts will never rest because they were not probably buried. In “Circe,” Stephen’s uneasiness towards his mother and Bloom’s excitement when he sees Rudy both indicate the complicated relationship between parent and child. In other words, we can see it as how Joyce symbolizes the relationship between Ireland and its people.

At the end of “Circe,” Stephen brings out the dilemma between who dies for whom. At the end of “The Dead,” Gretta is expressing her guilt of how Micheal Furey has “died for her” and Gabriel is shedding "generous tears" because he never had that kind of feelings in his life. However, what I think is interesting is that, no matter who died for whom, it will change the fate of the other permanently. A part of Gretta is dead with the death of Micheal Furey. A part of Stephen is dead with the dead of his mother, and a part of Bloom is dead with the dead of Ruby. I think it is brilliant of Joyce to write about the relationship between his country and its people by using romantic or parental relationships. Nothing stays unpaid; the dead will always come back to haunt the living and remind them what could have been or was lost.

I bear no hate to a living thing,

but I love my country beyond the king.

No matter where these people go, poor old Ireland haunts them. In "Ghostly Matters", Avery Gordon claims that novel writers are social theorists who try to diagnose the political disease of our historical moment and envision what it will take to put things right. I believe that this is the case with Joyce and his writing.

Wendy

Haunting

My reading of Stephen is that he rivals Gabriel Conroy in the way that unfortunate things just seem to blow up in his face. For this blog post I wanted to talk about his mother, and how his consciousness changes the way he views her, and how his mind projects his real thoughts of death onto her body. When Stephen sees his mother he doesn’t appear to be very happy about it, even though he had been paralyzed by the thought of her through out most of the text. When he finally sees her again, she doesn’t give him the sort of redemption that he so hoped for, but instead, I believe that she scared him because of her dead state. This feeling that Stephen gets when he finally gets what he asks for is a mixture between horror, and guilt and leaves him feeling self-conscious when he originally thought that it would leave his mind at peace. He appears to not even recognize her as she appears to him, probably due to the fact that she is dead and this makes him very uncomfortable subconsciously. I found that this section of Circe also made Stephen look like a total coward because he finally gets what he wants after so long, and when he has the chance to embrace it, he doesn’t because of the fear factor that is involved. In my opinion he deserves the haunting and needs the haunting to shake him from the paralysis that he seems to be stuck in, but he rejects the haunting of his mother and in turn remains the person that he is.

-Levi Eackelbary

Stephen’s Mother

When re-reading the passage for today’s blog, I found myself focusing on the sections where Stephen’s mother makes reappearance. Haunted by this idea that he had killed his mother, Stephan sees her and interacts with her when he is in the brothel. The interaction that Stephan has with his mother reminded me so much of the ghosts’ episodes in A Christmas Carol. Although Dickens portrays these encounters in a more happy and hopeful way, they reminded me of each other because all of the ghosts, and the purposes for their appearances seem to be in an attempt to convince someone to change their lifestyle in a better way. While the ghosts in A Christmas Carol are there to try and convince Scrooge to be nicer, it seems to me that Stephen’s mother is there to try and convince him to believe in God and be more religious. The whole scene is this scary, frantic plea towards religion. It actually reminded me a great deal of Basil Hallward’s plea for Dorian to repent his sins in the end of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Both Basil and the mother beg the other person to repent and return to God in prayer. Yet, both Dorian and Stephan refuse and end the scenes themselves in a violent outburst.

marisa

Hospitality in “Circe”

The ending of “Circe” made me think about the theme of hospitality that we’ve seen in “The Dead.” Certainly, Bloom is attempting to be hospitable to Stephen by finding him and helping him in his intoxicated state. Stephen repeatedly gets into trouble; he makes a scene at Bella’s brothel and then gets into a fight with Carr and Compton. Bloom comes to his rescue every time. Stephen, though, is not so accepting of Bloom’s help or hospitality. When Bloom tries to pull him away, Stephen continues prodding Carr: “Why should I not speak to him or to any human being who walks upright on this oblate orange” (38)? In the end, Stephen seems to allow Bloom to take him, but I wonder whether Stephen will be appreciative of Bloom’s intervention.

Stephen’s response to his mother’s ghost also made me consider hospitality in “Circe.” At one point, he yells, “Non serviam,” a Latin phrase meaning “I will not serve” (35). To me, this phrase shows that Stephen is refusing to offer hospitality to his mother and, at first, to Bloom. He refuses to repent or to give the ghost of his mother the answer she is seeking. Rather than face her further, Stephen runs away from her and out of Bella’s brothel. Stephen is also trying to take a stand – he will not be led by the ghost of his mother, by Bloom, or by Buck Mulligan. Stephen feels that he is a failure and no longer wants to be a slave to his students or even to his country. He is trying to take a stand, but at this point, he is incapable of doing so. He is unwilling, and incapable, of extending hospitality to these various forces that want something from him. Gabriel also seems to have “non serviam” moments in “The Dead” in which he refuses to be a slave to the past or to the dead that make their presence known that evening. Gabriel ends up accepting the presence of the dead, and I am interested to see if Stephen is able to respond to his mother’s ghost or come to terms with her death.

-Kalene VanHuss

The Horror

I found it an interesting juxtaposition the inclusion of these maternal and paternal relationships. While Stephen’s mother is a source of guilt, a horrendous apparition that of Bloom and Rudy seems to be more of sadness for he is depicted angelically and unaware that Bloom is even there. As we have discussed in class we can also consider the interaction between Bloom and Stephen as fatherly. He is following him in an attempt to help and protect him and this is interesting as we see the relationship of a mother as entirely negative. Not only is she a dreadful apparition she is demanding an act from Stephen and one that would actually go against his beliefs. She reminds him, “ Years and years I loved you, O my son, first born, when you lay in my womb”(35). I couldn’t help and feel that she was using these notions of motherhood- unconditional love, source of life as leverage against Stephen- a way to increase his guilt as a son. She is even described as somewhat of a demon clutching for his heart and attempting to convince him into a betrayal of the self. She carries on about religion, repentance a topic Stephen is adamant about on a personal and moral level. He is an atheist and this is the reason he could not concede to her wishes- it was a stand of principle of staying to true to ones belief and self. Yet there is commentary here that relates to Ireland and the figure of a mother. The figure of mother in Ireland is one Joyce found problematic and Stephens comment, “ Fabled by mothers memory” is one I believe to be directly connected to the romanticized figure of Ireland. This imagotype created a certain expectation and was used to promote the death of the self for the nation. The mother/nation is responsible for perpetuating these notions and their consequences. This is further exposed by Stephen when he blatantly discusses dying for ones country. He rejects this idea on both sides, “Let my country die for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn’t want it to die. Dam death. Long live life ”(38). Sacrifice is not triumph and martyrdom is presented as a unjustly eulogized. Stephen asserts that life instead is to be praised and this with regards to dying for revolution as opposed to living for it as well as the apparition of his mother whose requests attempt to break his spirit and in a way enact a sort of death of the self. Ireland as a figure is also discussed when we see the Old Gummy Granny a character who I believe to be be from W.B Yates’ play Cathleen Ni Houlihan. Both claim there are strangers in their house, “uninvited guests” which Stephen had used to describe people on the street earlier. I would venture to say that these instances are Joyce voicing his rejections of revivalism. He is ridiculing Yates’s figures of Ireland from both The Countess Cathleen who gives up everything including her soul to save her people- self sacrifice and Cathleen Ni Houlihan who asks others to die for her. Sacrifice and martyrdom are thought of pragmatically and Joyce negates these notion of love, duty and obligation. Similarly, we see this in “The Dead” when Michael Furey’s notions of love (dying for Gretta) interferes and leads to the disintegration of Gabriel’s relationship and selfhood. This romanticized notion of selflessness and sacrifice is rebutted with what I believe to be the question of “Why not live for it instead?”. The dead are a source of horror and if allowed to influence the living they only negatively affect them. Joyce negates these romanticized notions of the figure Ireland because he ultimately rejects the foundation of revivalism. I do not think that he sees the positivity in a movement that seems to embody regression. To revert and not attempt to incorporate the new and just as relevant facets of the nation as are those of history is not conducive to anyone.

Mayra Cortez

Stephen

I thought it was very interesting how Stephen did not get any comfort from the ghost of his mother. He tried to defend himself, which implies he was judging himself in a sort of trial, but that didn’t really work. In the moment he tells his mother what “they said” (Joyce 35), instead of the mother replying with a no, he wasn’t responsible for her death, she prays over Stephen. This is damning because all her prayers over him involve her telling him to repent and praying that he is saved. It seems that the hallucination or haunting of Stephen’s mother does nothing to assuage his guilt, but rather dwells on it, and by dwelling on it, increases it.

I related this passage to the scenes where Hamlet gets visited by his father because they were both similar in that neither child hears what they want to hear. With Hamlet, or anyone who has a family member die, all that person wants to hear is that their loved one is with them and that their loved one is happy in the afterlife, or at least in death. But Hamlet hears that his father is murdered and that Hamlet must enact revenge. Stephen just wants to hear that he is not responsible for his mother’s death, but both Hamlet and Stephen are denied. This is disturbing because the ghosts only seem to instigate more tension and conflict. The ghost or illusion of the mother seems to increase Stephen’s horror and guilt.

-MariaCarolina Gomez

Stephen’s Self Conscious

When Stephen sees his mother, the other characters present in the room do not see her. If we assume that he is hallucinating her presence, then we can assume that his own self conscious is reflected upon her. From the exchange between Stephen and his mother (or his own self conscious) is that he is afraid of death, is afraid of his fate after death, and feels guilty about his rejection of his religion. His mother’s image is horrifying and reflects the feelings that Stephen has towards death. He is “horrorstruck” by this image of death and doesn’t even recognize this as his mother. While he speaks to her, he confirms that he did not kill his mother, but his mother fears for his salvation. Stephen is also afraid of what will happen to him after he dies. His mother is with God, but she begs God not to send Stephen to hell. Stephen probably feels this way because of the guilt he carries for not keeping the religion that his mother raised him with. If he doesn’t keep his faith, will that prevent him from having a less horrifying death or a less uncertain future? I think that this section really brings out these fears for Stephen.

Megan Cullor

Parents & Stolen Children

The comedic chapter of Circe ends on a fairly tragic note with Rudy appearing before his stricken father. Rudy appears before Bloom after Stephen vanishes and it is clear that Stephen stands now stands in as a son figure. As classmates are making connections between “Circe” and “The Dead” I am considering that Gabriel’s epiphany and sudden empathy at the end of “The Dead” may be signs that he develops a paternal role over Michael Furey. After all, Furey was essentially a child when he passed away and his relationship with Gretta was naive. Gabriel is not literally taking on the role of Michael’s father but it is clear that Joyce cares deeply about portraying children and fathers in nuanced ways. Joyce’s daughter, Lucia had her own demons and a large portion of Finnegans Wake is devoted to Joyce’s complicated (and unusually close) relationship with her. Perhaps Lucia’s mental illness stood between Joyce and Nora at times as the death of Rudy does for Bloom and Molly. It has been argued that the incestuous thoughts of Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker in the Wake are a manifestation of Joyce’s own thoughts and it is interesting that Lucia’s romantic partner, Samuel Beckett became somewhat of a son figure for Joyce.

Gabriel’s sexual urges are repressed by the appearance of the young, Dead Michael Furey. Similarly, the thing which prevents Bloom from having a healthy sexual relationship with Molly is the death of Rudy. These figures frustrate them but they still mourn them and hold a deep sense of compassion for them. The sexual frustrations of Gabriel and Bloom are interesting when comparing side by side. I believe that Gabriel’s shame and anxiety parallels that of Bloom and Gabriel would perform sadomasochism as Bloom does if Joyce’s earlier text was not so demure. As I consider the very last passages of “Circe” I am noticing that Rudy appears as a “stolen child” like the one in Yeats’ famous poem. He is described as a “fairy boy...a changeling, kidnapped...” (Joyce 42). This may be of some comfort to Bloom because he can imagine that Rudy has passed over into a more sensitive world filled with ethereal children and wonder. It is surely of some comfort to Bloom that Rudy is smiling but this does not take away from the fact that Bloom is heartbroken. The lucid vision of Rudy is blocked by enough distance that Rudy cannot meet his glance. When Rudy kisses the page of his book we realize that Bloom couldn’t want anything more than the opportunity of teaching him how to read.

Mat Levitt

History? Mothers?

The end of Circe depicts Stephen as rather bitter about the state of his country. He shouts at the soldier, calling them uninvited guests, mocks the earlier quote “history is to blame” mentions killing the priest and the king within his mind, wishes his country would die for him instead of the other way around, and then the Croppy Boy is hanged violently and grotesquely. Though we saw some of this side of Stephen in the beginning of the story, it is never so blatant and forthright that Stephen is politically motivated and angry about the state of affairs.

I found it interesting that the uninvited soldiers and the ghost of his mother are so close together in the text, especially considering the connotation we have established of ‘uninvited guests’ being ghosts. As he addresses the soldiers, he uses the phrase “Fabled by mothers of memory” (37). A page earlier he was remembering his mother and she was remembering her death. How is the death of Stephen’s mother connected to the British presence in Dublin? Joyce seems to be paralleling the two and for the life of me i am unable to come to a conclusion about it. I suspect that this will return and be clarified in future chapters but without having read those I am left with the vague notion that Stephen’s mother and British occupation are the same somehow.

The Story as a Play and the Play as a Story

Our discussion in class on Monday charting the differences between “The Dead”-era Joyce and Ulysses-era Joyce was really interesting to me, and I wanted to continue that discussion in my post for this week (which is slightly off-topic, sorry. Just couldn’t resist.) Kalene and I discussed the strangeness of the entrances and exits in “Circe” and in class we discussed the (im?)possibility of staging the “Circe” chapter. It made me think about how strange it is that the story Joyce wrote as a play would be an incredibly difficult play to stage, yet the story Joyce didn’t write as a play would be far easier to adapt for the stage.

“The Dead,” as we have discussed frequently, is so strikingly close to a play, with its attention to detail concerning the appearance of characters, the order in which they enter and leave, speeches, etc. It seems to me that “The Dead” would make a much more successful play than film, because the idea of the monologue could (if written correctly) work for Gabriel’s interiority. Breaking the fourth wall usually comes across as hokey on film, but on the stage it’s a convention that is not frowned upon in the same way. But “Circe” is a different case. There are so few instances (in the selection we’ve read) of actually helpful or clarifying stage directions that would work for a stage adaptation of “Circe.” There are so many different characters that the cast would be enormous; we aren’t given visual descriptions of these characters and most of the time, we aren’t told when they enter the scene and when they leave, so it’s much less structured than “The Dead,” which is such a rigid, orderly text. (I say that with love.) I do wonder what the effectiveness of “Circe” would have been if it had been written as a regular chapter in Ulysses, but, because I haven’t read it, I don’t want to speculate about it. (It does very much make me want to read Ulysses, though!)

The exception to that for me is the very last page of the “Circe” episode we’ve read, when Bloom watches Rudy. That was so understandable and visual—especially compared to the rest of the excerpt—that it was extra devastating in its clearness. I could totally see that image: the stage, now backdrop-less, with one spotlight on Bloom and one on Rudy. It’s just heart-crushing. But the rest of the episode (which I do agree is quite funny) is so abstract and off the wall that if it was going to be adapted for the stage it would need to be totally experimental and revel in its absurdity.

-Erika Rothberg

The Concluding Scenes of Circe and “The Dead”

This might be an odd interpretation, but I read the last page of Circe (page 42) to be parallel to that of the conclusion in “The Dead.” In Circe, Bloom calls out to an unconscious Stephen (“Mr Dedalus! … Stephen!”) in hopes of evoking a certain response from him. This aligns with the way Gabriel calls upon his unconscious wife (“Gretta!”). Both Stephen and Gretta may be described as unconscious, but in different ways. Stephen was literally knocked unconscious by Private Carr. Gretta was merely unconscious of Gabriel’s presence because she was entranced by her nostalgic memories of Michael Furey.

Just as Stephen comes back to consciousness with a stream of fragmented recollections (“…shadows… the woods… white breast… dim…”), Gretta also redirects her attention to Gabriel in the hotel by recalling specific, poignant memories of Furey (“Such eyes as he had, big dark eyes! And such an expression in them – an expression! ...”).

Further, as Bloom is looking down upon Stephen’s “face and form,” he muses upon past recollections and future abstractions. Bloom’s musings on past recollections read: “[Stephen’s] Face reminds me of his poor mother… Ferguson, I think I caught. A girl… Best thing could happen him…” Here, the image of Stephen’s face brings Bloom back to the memories of Stephen’s mother and a Ferguson girl. This leads Bloom to quietly consider what he thinks is best for Stephen. The future abstractions read: “… swear that I will always hail, ever conceal, never reveal, any part or parts… in the rough sands of the sea… where the tide ebbs… and flows…” This musing reflects on Bloom’s promise to conceal a secret in the all-swallowing, abstract ocean, no matter what he faces in the future. This conclusion runs parallel with Gabriel’s process of gazing upon his sleeping wife, thinking of past memories with her and considering what the future might bring. “Gabriel… looked for a few moments unresentfully at her tangled hair and half open mouth… So she had had that romance in her life: a man had died for her sake. It hardly pained him now to think how poor a part he, her husband, had played in her life” (Joyce 193). After these musings, Gabriel also addresses the upcoming future by envisioning a vast landscape (like Bloom’s ocean). “He watched sleepily the [snow] flakes… The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward… His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe… upon all the living and the dead” (Joyce 194).

Finally, Bloom’s vision of Rudy is similar to Gabriel’s vision of Michael Furey. In Bloom’s case, he is described to see this vision: “Against the dark wall a figure appears slowly, a fairy boy…” This vision aligns with the apparition Gabriel sees. Just as Bloom sees the fairy boy, Rudy, “Against a dark wall,” Gabriel envisions the ghostly apparition of Michael Furey “in the partial darkness” of the hotel room. “[Gabriel’s] tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree” (Joyce 194). In the conclusion of each story, these apparitions evoke wonderment and new understanding in both Bloom and Gabriel.

- Alexa Bolton

Long Live...What?

Many have read the ending of “The Dead” as an epiphany for Gabriel. If it is not a redemption, as some read it, it is at least a realization. In my own paper, I argue that the ending represents Gabriel’s entrance into a deeper understanding of generosity. These readings of the ending as an ultimately positive (though perhaps painful) moment for Gabriel could be called into question if the ending is read in light of a brief line of Stephen Dedalus’s in “Circe.”

In his confrontation with the private, Stephen says, “I understand your point of view though I have no king myself for the moment. But this is the point. You die for your country. Suppose … not that I wish it for you. But I say: Let my country die for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn’t want it to die. Damn death. Long live life” (“Circe” 38). As we’ve discussed in class, in the ideology of Irish revivalism, sacrificing your life for the sake of the country was held up as an ideal, especially if you were a young man like Stephen is. Stephen is not a proponent of this ideal, however. What he seems to be saying is that if someone has to die, he would rather it be his country rather than himself. Beyond that, he would prefer if no one had to die. He would much rather celebrate life.

The ending of “The Dead,” however, seems like an acquiescence to death. Gabriel seems to be completely overcome by the figure of the sacrificial boy standing under a dripping tree, agreeing with the sentiment he stands for: “Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age” (“Dead” 194). With this reading, Gabriel accepts the Irish revivalist premise of the nobility of sacrificial death. He accedes to “that other world,” instead of embracing this one as Stephen does by claiming “Long live life.” Gabriel’s “epiphany,” then, is not a transformation, redemption, or even realization. Rather, it is represents his surrender to Ireland’s perceived demand on his life.

-Esther

Mother, the Bride of Death

When the apparition of Stephen’s mother appears , she is described in grotesque terms, contrasting her arrival with the lewd women of the brothel. The stage directions say, “Stephen’s mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor in leper grey with a wreath of faded orange blossoms and a torn bridal veil, fer face worn and noseless, green with grave mould. Her hair is scant and lank” (handout 34).

After working closely with “Arrayed for the Bridal,” my immediate thoughts about this passage go to the wreath and torn veil and the connotations of marriage associated with them. Stephen’s mother is presented as a decaying and, obviously, a dead bride. She is like the bride of death, the grotesque maiden -particularly since she refers to herself as the “once beautiful May Goulding” rather than May Dedalus. As a dead and grotesque bride, her apparition shocks Stephen into hysteria while he is dancing with the prostitutes, the opposite of the maiden/virgin bride. His mother’s ghost implores Stephen to “Repent! O, the fire of hell!” (35). With the contrast between the wild prostitutes and the torn bridal veil of his mother’s ghost, Stephen spirals and, with “his head and arms thrown back stark, beats the ground and flees from the room past the whores at the door” (36).

His mother crosses the threshold of the other world in her appearance to Stephen. Whether or not he is just hallucinating from guilt or if the ghost is real, it is enough to frighten Stephen out of the precarious situation in the brothel. The ghost forces Stephen to cross the threshold of the brothel and leave the women who have now made him feel more guilty and requiring repentance.

-Megan Barnes

Rudy the Changeling

When Rudy appears at the end of the section of “Circe” he is described in the stage direction as “a fairy boy of eleven, a changeling, kidnapped.” This reminded me of the W.B. Yeats poem we read, “The Stolen Child,” about children kidnapped by fairies and replaced with changelings. So Rudy is part of the legends of children being stolen by fairies, which makes a connect to Irish folktales and lessens the sadness of Rudy’s death. Rudy does seem happy, as he is “smiling,” and his “glass shoes,” “diamond and ruby button,” and reading “right to left” give Rudy this fairy tale kind of feel, in addition to being described as a “fairy boy.” Rudy remaining silent seems to line up with being a changeling as well. Even though this is Bloom’s imagination (or at least that’s one interpretation) Rudy still cannot communicate. Rudy appears as both a changeling and a kidnapped child; Bloom is seeing the child he lost and a version of Rudy that isn’t real. If the Rudy Bloom sees in this chapter is a changeling, then that implies that Rudy is at least saved from a world “more full of weeping than he can understand.” To me this puts a bright side or silver lining into this rather sad moment. Bloom is mourning is son’s death, and I think he is also disappointed to have lost the experience of having a son, but by Rudy being kidnapped by fairies (at least in Bloom’s imagination) Rudy gets to go to this happy place, supposedly some kind of fairy land, and death does not feel so tragic.

Austin Baker

Freddy and Camera Movement in Huston’s Adaptation

What I find very intriguing about Huston’s film is his interpretation of Freddy. Before he even arrives, Aunt Julia and Aunt Kate have mentioned him and their fear that he’s screwed at least five times. The camera also follows him quite a bit, maybe more than Gabriel or any other single character, during the first half of the film. Certainly, I think Huston made him more of a pathetic rather than humorous character. However, I think underlying his character in the text is the sense that he is somewhat pathetic and misunderstood. What I am hoping to examine in more detail is the film’s tone towards Freddy. I do not think his stronger presence in the film is meant to make him ridiculous. Instead, I feel the film is calling attention to his marginalization within the text; the other guests see him only as an inconvenience and immediately discredit everything he says. The film is overemphasizing his scenes, but I think this may point out a greater significance that Freddy’s character holds in the text

We also commented in class about Gabriel’s role in the film. The camera does not always follow him, even though in the text, most of the story is focalized through him. Although I do think Huston and McCann could have found more effective ways to portray Gabriel’s internal thought processes, I think the camera’s movement among the different guests of the party places more significance on the other characters and voices at the party. At times, the camera’s movement among the guests seems to help portray the many voices that shape the telling of the story. In the first weeks of class, we discussed how the characters’ linguistic structures constrict and shape the characters. This theme of the text is difficult to convey through film, but I am hoping to continue watching for how the camera’s movements and the elements of mise-en-scene show the linguistic worlds these characters occupy and the specific roles that they play. Gabriel’s paralysis is maybe heightened by focusing on and seeing how the other characters are constricted by their roles.

Also a quick note about the scene with Molly Ivors: Although I am a little disappointed in Gabriel and Molly Ivors’ interaction, I wonder if by making Molly somewhat abrasive, Huston is trying to emphasize (and is perhaps overemphasizing) the question of Irish identity and nationalism that is present in Joyce’s text.

-Kalene VanHuss

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