…a constant mid-movie refrain of mine. And yet again, as I read,
His hand looking for the where did I put found in his pocket soap… Ah soap there! Yes. Gate. Safe!
all I can think at the top of my lungs is, “Punch him in the face!” Bloom sees Boylan, the man he knows is giving him the horn, and he’s reduced to the obsequious coward?!
For all my ranting, I’d probably do/be the same…
I’m just over a third though Ulysses and I’m struck by Joyce’s preoccupation with bodily fluids and functions. I wager I’ll read about cum before this book ends.
There is none now to be for Leopold what Leopold was for Rudolph.
Bloom is the only one left in the trinity, having survived father and son, Rudolph and Rudolph/Rudy.
The man was alive fifteen minutes before he was dead.
the met him pike hoses of milk
Corpse is meat gone bad. So what is cheese? Corpse of milk?
Things that wither express more than things that are immortal.
Sex and Death are irretrievably conflated in Nighttown: Corpse roam the streets along with the vestal not so virgins. Bloom sees Rabi Rudolph behind a crone with a lamp and tries to hide the swine in his coat pocket. Stephen sees his mother’s dead body as the guilt of the cardinal’s son/sin takes hold. Telemachus and Odysseus are united in grief.
Life is many days. This will end.