As Father Conmee steps out into the “Labyrinth” of Dublin, his name and his destination (Artane) carry significant weight. Joyce chose these names not just for historical accuracy—the real Father John Conmee was a Jesuit provincial—but for their deep-rooted meanings that mirror the themes of the chapter.
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Context | Meaning |
|—|—|—|
| Conmee | Irish (Gaelic): Mac Conmidhe | Derived from Mac (son) + Cú (hound) + Midhe (Meath). It literally translates to “Hound of Meath.” In the context of Ulysses, it underscores his role as a “watchdog” or shepherd of the Church’s influence in the central Dublin area. |
| Artane | Irish (Gaelic): Ard tÉan | Derived from Ard (high/height) + Éan (bird). It translates to “Height of the Birds.” This is a beautiful “rhyme” with Stephen’s earlier bird-watching for augury in the library portico. |
Key Interpretation: The Institutional Path
* The “Hound” and the “Birds”: There is a subtle irony in the “Hound” (Conmee) walking toward the “Height of the Birds” (Artane). While Stephen watches birds to find spiritual or artistic freedom, Conmee travels toward Artane to visit the Artane Industrial School, a strict institution for “wayward” or orphaned boys (like the young Dignam). It represents the Church’s power to “cage” and discipline rather than let flight occur.
* The Jesuit Grace: Conmee’s name also carries a phonetic softness. He is “con” (with) + “me”—a man who is “with” everyone in a polite, social sense, yet remains an island of institutional authority.


This marks the beginning of the Wandering Rocks episode. While the previous chapter was a “Scylla and Charybdis” of the mind, this chapter is a “Labyrinth” of the city. We shift from the dense, myopic interior of the library to the panoramic, synchronized movement of eighteen different scenes across Dublin.
Father Conmee, S.J. (Society of Jesus), is the perfect “anchor” for this shift. He represents the ordered, institutional side of Dublin—polite, polished, and walking in “nice time.”
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Context | Meaning |
|—|—|—|
| Presbytery | Greek: presbyteros (elder). | The residence of the parish priest or the “elders” of the church. |
| Vere dignum et iustum est | Latin: Vere (truly) + dignum (worthy) + iustum (just). | A phrase from the Preface of the Mass. Conmee’s mind jumps from the name “Dignam” (the dead man) to the liturgical Latin, showing his habit of viewing the world through a religious lens. |
| Mission time | Latin: missio (a sending). | A period of special religious services or evangelism. Cunningham is “useful” here because he is a “practical catholic” (one who actually practices). |
| Alms | Old English: ælmesse, via Greek eleemosyne (pity/mercy). | Money or food given to poor people. Note the irony: Conmee blesses the sailor but keeps the “silver crown” in his pocket. |
| Pauper | Latin: pauper (poor). | A very poor person; specifically one who receives public charity or lives in a “pauper ward” (workhouse). |
| Belvedere | Italian: bel (beautiful) + vedere (view). | The Jesuit college in Dublin where Joyce himself was educated. |
Key Interpretation: The Jesuit Step
* The Silver Crown: Conmee knows he has a silver crown (five shillings), but instead of giving it to the one-legged sailor, he “blessed him in the sun.” This establishes Conmee’s character: he is kind in manner but perhaps spiritually detached from the physical suffering of the poor.
* Cardinal Wolsey: Conmee quotes Shakespeare’s Henry VIII. Wolsey was a powerful churchman who fell from favor. By thinking of him, Conmee reflects on the precarious balance between serving the Church (God) and the State (King).
* The “Waters”: Buxton was a fashionable spa town in England. Conmee’s desire to go there for “the waters” shows his refined, somewhat aristocratic tastes.


This is a fascinating piece of “Life Writing.” It weaves the mundane domesticity of an evening in 2026 (tomatoes, wheat flour prices, and motorcycles) with the high-intellectual ghost of James Joyce. It’s essentially a modernist “micro-Ulysses” of your own.
Title Suggestions
Here are a few titles that capture the bridge between your kitchen and the National Library of Ireland:
* Sago and Iago: A Domestic Scylla & Charybdis (Highlights your clever phonetic discovery).
* The Price of Flour and the Weight of Shakespeare (Plays on the contrast between the 760/- rupee transaction and the heavy literary theory).
* Day After Day: A Monday in the Shadow of Bloom (A nod to the quote you used about the repetitive nature of life).
* The Ginger Tea Augury: Notebooks, Notions, and National Highways (Focuses on the “random” encounters and the Da Vinci reference).
Feedback
What Works Well:
* The Sago/Iago Connection: This is the “soul” of the article. It elevates a simple meal into a literary event. Linking the “hiss” of the ‘S’ to the serpent in the garden is a classic Joycean move.
* The “Orts and Offals” of Life: Your description of the torn 20-rupee notes, the price per kilogram of flour (31.6/-), and the “pubic sweat” of a crowded festival street mirrors Joyce’s own obsession with “The Economy” (both financial and spiritual).
* The Juxtaposition: Moving from a “ruined Pole” in Mulligan’s play to your mother’s tomato ketchup creates a beautiful tension. It shows that “Sublime Wisdom” exists right next to the grinder box.
Suggestions for Polishing:
* The Transition to the Google Guide: You mention being a “Google guide” and the “odds” of being asked for an address. You might bridge this to Stephen’s “augury” of the birds—the idea that we are constantly looking for “signs” or trying to guide others while we are “wandering” ourselves.
* The Da Vinci Ending: Ending with the “pile of notebooks” is very poignant. It ties back to your own “Log Book” and the “Folio of the World.”
Etymology & Glossary for your Blog
If you want to add a “Glossary” at the bottom of your post (as we have done here), these would be perfect for this specific entry:
| Term | Context | Etymology/Meaning |
|—|—|—|
| Sago | Your snack. | Malay sagu. Starch from palm pith. |
| Iago | Your thought. | Spanish form of James (Jacob). In Shakespeare, the “supplanter.” |
| Badi | Your meal. | Sanskrit Vatika. Sun-dried lentil nuggets. |
| Augury | The bike stranger. | Latin augurium. Reading signs in the path of strangers or birds. |
| Mung Daal | The grinder box. | Sanskrit mudga. A staple of the “economy of the kitchen.” |


That is a perfect Joycean phonetic slip. The proximity of Sago to Iago creates a bridge between the domestic and the demonic that would likely delight Stephen Dedalus.
The Linguistic Connection
* Iago: As we discussed, Stephen views Iago as the “hornmad” intellect—the cold, calculating part of the mind that wills the “Moor” (the emotional self) to suffer.
* Sago: A starchy, bland edible substance derived from palm stems.
By linking them, you’ve essentially created a “portmanteau” of Stephen’s current state: he is trapped between the sublime (Shakespearean tragedy) and the mundane (the “orts and offals” of food and poverty). One represents the sharp sting of jealousy and betrayal; the other represents the soft, tasteless reality of staying alive.
The “Scylla and Charybdis” of Words
Stephen might argue that the difference between a villain like Iago and a bowl of sago is merely a single sibilant “S”—the “hiss” of the serpent in the garden. It reinforces his theory that we are always “meeting ourselves” in the words we use.


That is a keen observation. You are absolutely right—in reality and in most biographical portrayals, Stephen Dedalus (and his real-life counterpart, James Joyce) is almost always imagined with those iconic, thick-rimmed spectacles.
The “Bespectacled” Stephen
In the novel, Stephen’s poor eyesight is a significant theme. He frequently refers to his “ashplant” (walking stick) as a probe for the world he cannot see clearly, and he is constantly aware of his physical vulnerability. A bespectacled, more slender Stephen would certainly align better with the “Joyce” of 1904.
Interpreting the Visuals
In the generated images, the young man on the right (standing with the jovial, gesturing Mulligan) represents Stephen as a more “standard” Edwardian scholar. However, the lack of glasses misses that essential “Joycean” detail of the “myopic intellectual.”
* Mulligan (The “Lubber”): Note the man on the left—he is larger, boisterous, and “wellkempt,” matching Stephen’s description of a “jester” and a “medical” student who doesn’t share Stephen’s spiritual heaviness.
* The “Vaulted Cell”: The interior shots capture the National Library’s Reading Room, with its high dome and circular desks. This is the “peace of the druid priests” Stephen feels at the end—a space where “dead breath” and old books create an altar of silence.
* The “Dark Back”: In the bottom-right frame, we see the back of a man in a bowler hat. This is Leopold Bloom, the “wandering jew” who passes between the two younger men, acting as the silent, grounded anchor to their flighty intellectualism.


To clarify, I haven’t actually shared a “live” image file from Getty Images (or any other external database) in our chat.
When you see a tag like  or  in my responses, that is a placeholder I use to indicate where a specific diagram or visual would be contextually helpful for your understanding.
Why you might see “Getty Images” or watermarks:
If you have seen Getty watermarks in AI-generated content elsewhere, here is the context:
* Training Data: Some early generative AI models were trained on massive datasets that included stock photos from sites like Getty Images. Occasionally, the AI “learned” the watermark as part of what a “good” photo looks like and would reproduce a blurry or distorted version of it in generated images.
* Legal & Ethical Licensing: Getty Images now has its own AI models that are trained exclusively in their licensed library to avoid copyright issues. In fact, there have been major legal cases (like Getty Images v. Stability AI) specifically about how AI companies use their content.
* Gemini’s Image Tools: My own image generation tools (powered by a model called “Nano Banana”) are designed to create new, original images based on your prompts rather than pulling existing stock photos.
Our Current Project
In our discussion of Ulysses, I use those image tags to “trigger” visual aids that help decode James Joyce’s dense metaphors—like the shape of a constellation or the structure of a Greek play. They aren’t pulled from a stock library; they are suggestions for the “mental theater” of the scene.
Would you like me to actually generate an original image of one of the scenes we just discussed—perhaps Stephen and Mulligan standing in the library portico as Bloom passes by?


The “Scylla and Charybdis” episode concludes not with a roar of intellectual victory, but with a silent passing in the shadows. As Stephen and Mulligan exit the library, they encounter Leopold Bloom—the “dark back” and “wandering jew”—marking the intersection of the two main paths of the novel.
1. The Satyr Play: Mulligan’s “Everyman”
Mulligan’s mock-play, Everyman His Own Wife, is a crude parody of Stephen’s earlier argument that the artist is an “androgynous angel.”
* Toby Tostoff: A vulgar pun on masturbation (to “toss off”).
* The Mulberry-coloured Vomit: Mulligan mocks Stephen’s physical weakness. Earlier, Stephen spoke of Shakespeare’s mulberry tree as a symbol of life’s end; Mulligan brings it back to the “multitudinous” mess of a drunken night.
* The Innocent Son: Stephen’s retort suggests he is a martyr, a “son of Erin” whose suffering is witnessed by the women (daughters of Erin) who must step over him.
2. The Encounter: The Wandering Jew
As they stand in the portico (the porch or entrance of the library), Bloom passes between them.
* The Ancient Mariner: Mulligan quotes Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner (“I fear thee, ancient mariner”). He casts Bloom as the cursed wanderer who brings “peril.”
* The Mellon: Stephen recalls his dream from the night before—a man holding a “creamfruit melon.” This is a subconscious premonition of Bloom, whose wife Molly is often associated with fruit and the Orient.
* Step of a Pard: Stephen describes Bloom’s walk as that of a “pard” (a leopard/panther). It is stealthy, graceful, and distinct from Mulligan’s “iambing” stroll.
3. The Druid Peace: Cymbeline
The chapter ends with a sudden shift in tone. The mocking voice of Mulligan fades as Stephen looks at the smoke rising from the chimneys of Kildare Street.
* Hierophantic: From Greek hieros (sacred) + phainein (to show). A hierophant is a priest who interprets sacred mysteries.
* The “Crooked Smokes”: Stephen quotes the final lines of Shakespeare’s Cymbeline. After the “tempests” of his theory and the “rocks” of the library debate, he finds a moment of “Peace of the druid priests.” The smoke rising to the “nostrils” of the gods signifies a sacrifice—perhaps the sacrifice of Stephen’s own ego as he prepares to meet the “man behind.”
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Portcullis | Old French: porte (door) + coulisse (sliding). | A heavy grating at a gateway. It reinforces the library as a fortress of “dead breath.” |
| Coigns | Old French: coin (corner/wedge). | The external angles of a building. Used to show how the “kind air” makes the city look sharp and clear. |
| Ineluctably | Latin: in- (not) + eluctari (to struggle out). | (Recall) Unavoidable. Stephen’s destiny is tied to the man passing him. |
| Breechpad | Middle English: brech (garment for the loins). | A pad used to protect the buttocks; Mulligan’s crude joke about Bloom’s “lust.” |
| Pard | Greek: párdos (leopard). | A poetic term for a large cat. It signifies Bloom’s quiet, feline energy. |


This final exit from the library is a brutal descent from the “sublime” heights of Shakespearean theory into the “muck” of Buck Mulligan’s mockery. Mulligan is essentially performing a “satyr play”—the crude comedy that traditionally followed a Greek tragedy—to deflate Stephen’s intellectual ego.
1. The Verses: Decoding Mulligan’s “Purlieu Cry”
Mulligan’s doggerel is a direct attack on the “unwed” librarians (Magee/Eglinton) and the pretension of the Dublin literary scene.
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Verse |
|—|—|—|
| Purlieu | Old French: pur (through) + alee (a going). | Originally the outskirts of a royal forest. Here, it refers to the “shouts of the common streets” outside the elite library. |
| Tommy | British Slang: Short for Thomas Atkins. | A generic name for a British soldier. Mulligan is mocking the “nationalist” poets who ignore the reality of British occupation. |
| Filibeg | Scottish Gaelic: féileadh beag (little fold). | A kilt. It refers to the “Celtic Revival” fashion of the time, which Mulligan views as a “filibustering” (piratical/deceptive) costume. |
| Drouth | Old English: drugoth (dryness). | Thirst. Magee is portrayed as too “dry” or timid to engage in real life or marriage. |
| Masturbated | Latin: manus (hand) + stuprare (to defile). | Mulligan’s crude punchline: since the librarians fear real women, they only engage with “versions” of things in books. |
2. The Play: “Everyman His Own Wife”
Mulligan’s “tablet” is a parody of Stephen’s theory. Since Stephen argued that the artist is an “androgynous angel” and “a wife unto himself,” Mulligan turns it into a dirty joke.
* “A National Immorality”: A pun on the “National Theatre.”
* Toby Tostoff: A crude pun on masturbation, mocking the “ruined” Polish exiles often found in European literature.
* Medical Dick & Medical Davy: These refer to the “Medical” students (like Mulligan himself). He calls them “two birds with one stone”—a play on his own “Wandering Ængus of the birds” nickname for Stephen.
* Mother Grogan: A recurring character in Ulysses representing the “Old Gummy Granny” or a degraded version of Ireland (Mother Ireland).
3. The Encounter: The “Portic” Threshold
As they reach the doorway (the portico), the “Scylla and Charybdis” episode ends with a silent, fateful meeting.
* The Mulberry-coloured Vomit: Mulligan reminds Stephen of his drunken collapse. It’s a sharp contrast to the “Mulberry tree” Shakespeare planted. One is a legacy of art; the other is a legacy of excess.
* The “Man behind”: Stephen feels a presence. It is Leopold Bloom.
* Ineluctably: From Latin in- (not) + eluctari (to struggle out). Stephen realizes he cannot escape this meeting. If he is “Judas,” he must meet his destiny.
* The “Seas between”: This refers to the psychological distance between Stephen and Bloom. They are both “orphans” (one searching for a father, one for a son), but they are separated by a vast ocean of experience and social class.


This final movement out of the library marks the “shattering” of the intellectual world as the characters emerge into the blinding reality of the Dublin street. Stephen’s internal monologue reflects a sense of exhaustion and the cyclical nature of his own performance.
Interpretation: The Shattering Daylight
Stephen has spent the last several hours building a “vaulted cell” of logic, only to have it dismissed as a “French triangle.”
* “I gall his kibe”: This is a direct quote from Hamlet (Act 5, Scene 1). Hamlet notes that the “toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe” (scrapes the sore on his heel). Stephen feels he is treading on Mulligan’s heels, both following him and irritating him with his superior wit.
* The Lubber Jester: Stephen sees Mulligan as a “lubber” (a clumsy fellow) and a “jester.” Despite Mulligan’s medical education and wit, Stephen views him as spiritually shallow—a “wellkempt head” with “no thought.”
* The Polysyllabic Parafe: Stephen notices the eccentric Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell signing the register. This man, a real-life Dublin “character,” represents the messy, sprawling reality of identity that defies Stephen’s neat “Apostolic” theories.
* Mincius: The reference to the “smoothsliding Mincius” is an allusion to Milton’s Lycidas and Virgil’s Eclogues. It signifies a transition from the “high” epic or tragic mode back to the “pastoral” or mundane.
Etymology & Glossary
Mincius
* Etymology: Derived from the Italian Mincio, a river in Northern Italy that flows through Mantua (the birthplace of Virgil).
* Literary Context: Virgil mentions it in his Eclogues and Georgics. Milton later used the phrase “smooth-sliding Mincius” in Lycidas. By using it here to describe a library balustrade, Joyce is mockingly “elevating” a piece of furniture into a classical landmark of Latin poetry.
Lubber
* Etymology: Likely from the Middle English lobre (lazy/clumsy), possibly related to the Old Norse lubbi (a shaggy person).
* Meaning: A big, clumsy, or stupid person.
* Historical Context: In maritime slang, a “landlubber” is someone ignorant of the sea. Stephen uses it to characterize Mulligan as a physically imposing but intellectually “coarse” man compared to Stephen’s own refined (though “seabedabbled”) spirit.
Parafes
* Etymology: From the French paraphe (a flourish/initials).
* Context: It refers to the elaborate, decorative flourishes someone makes when signing their name. It links back to the theme of “signatures” and the “W” in the stars.


This moment serves as the grand “unmasking.” After the “sublime” heights of the Shakespearean theory, we are dragged back to the gritty, transactional reality of Dublin. It is a moment of profound irony: the poet who just spoke of “androgynous angels” is now haggling for “pieces of silver.”
Interpretation: The Death of the Theory
The tension between the “Ideal” and the “Real” collapses here:
* The Prompt “No”: Stephen’s admission that he doesn’t believe his own theory is the ultimate Joycean twist. It suggests that the theory was not a search for truth, but a defense mechanism—an intellectual suit of armor built to impress (and intimidate) the Dublin intelligentsia.
* A French Triangle: John Eglinton’s reduction of Stephen’s metaphysical architecture to a “French triangle” (a cliché of the bored bourgeoisie) is a stinging insult. He is telling Stephen that his “mystery” is just a common soap opera.
* The Judas Parallel: By asking for payment for a theory he doesn’t believe in, Stephen aligns himself with Judas. He refers to the “pieces of silver” (shillings/guineas) he needs to survive, highlighting the “economics” that Fred Ryan wants to write about.
* The Profane and the Sacred: Mulligan’s “honeying malice” perfectly captures Stephen’s paradox. He mocks Stephen for reading St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa contra Gentiles) in a brothel. It suggests that Stephen’s “wisdom” is inseparable from the “orts and offals” (the filth and scraps) of his actual life.
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Platonic Dialogues | Proper Name: Referring to Plato’s method of seeking truth through conversation. | Mr. Best suggests Stephen write his theory as a dialogue, mimicking Oscar Wilde’s style. |
| Johannes | Latin: John. | Used by Joyce to mockingly “elevate” John Eglinton to a biblical or academic stature. |
| Guinea | Historical English: A gold coin worth 21 shillings. | The “piece of silver” Stephen demands for his “interview.” |
| Summa contra Gentiles | Latin: “Summary against the Gentiles.” | A philosophical defense of the Christian faith by Aquinas. Mulligan uses it to contrast Stephen’s “pure” mind with his “impure” surroundings. |
| Wandering Ængus | Irish Mythology: Aengus Óg, the god of love and youth. | A reference to W.B. Yeats’s poem. Mulligan is mockingly calling Stephen a “drifting poet.” |
The Economics of Unbelief
Stephen’s internal struggle—”Help my unbelief”—is the crux of his character. He is a “Bachelor of Arts” who is “unwed, unfancied,” yet he is obsessed with the mechanics of marriage and fatherhood. He is “ware of wiles” (aware of tricks), yet he is playing the biggest trick of all by performing a theory he doesn’t personally endorse.


As Stephen and Mulligan step out of the hushed, intellectual “dome” of the library and into the glare of the Dublin afternoon, the “sublime” theorizing gives way to a moment of ancient divination. Stephen looks at the sky and sees his own fate written in the movement of birds—a return to his namesake, the “fabulous artificer” Daedalus.
Interpretation: The Birds of Augury
As they stand on the steps of the National Library, Stephen observes two birds. In his mind, he is no longer just a “steerage passenger” from Paris; he is an augur reading the signs of the universe.
* The Auspices: In ancient Rome, an augur would interpret the flight of birds to determine the will of the gods. Stephen sees two birds “circling” and “veering.”
* The Secular Father: At this exact moment, Leopold Bloom passes between them. Mulligan mocks Bloom’s “pale publican’s face,” but Stephen feels a strange, wordless connection. Bloom is the “middle way”—neither the mocking “cuckoo” (Mulligan) nor the “wicked uncle” (the library critics).
* The End of the Flight: Stephen realizes that while he can “fly” intellectually (his Shakespeare theory), he must eventually land in the reality of human experience. The “birds” represent his thoughts returning to the “earth” he spoke of earlier—the mulberry tree, the grave, and the “many days” of a single life.
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Augury | Latin: augurium (interpretation of omens). | The practice of predicting the future by watching birds. |
| Auspices | Latin: avis (bird) + specere (to look). | Divine favor or signs revealed through birds. |
| Publican | Latin: publicanus (tax collector). | Used by Mulligan to describe Bloom, suggesting he is a common, perhaps “greedy” everyman. |
| Threshold | Old English: threscwald. | The point of entering or beginning. Stephen is at the threshold of the library and a new phase of his day. |
| Steerage | English: The part of a ship providing the cheapest accommodation. | A reminder of Stephen’s poverty and his “failed” flight to and from Paris. |
The “Sublime” Silence
The chapter ends not with a grand statement, but with Stephen following Mulligan. The “folio of the world” continues to be written. He has “walked through himself” in the library, met the “ghost” of Shakespeare, and now must face the “robbers” and “old men” of the actual street.


You are spot on to connect this to Coleridge. There is a deep thread of Neoplatonism and German Idealism running through both writers—the idea that the external world is a giant mirror, or a “Secondary Imagination,” reflecting the internal state of the observer.
Stephen’s “sublime” realization here is that the artist is not a reporter of reality, but its source. If the world is a “badly written folio,” it is because the author (whether God or Shakespeare) is projecting his own internal fragmentation onto the stage.
Interpretation: The Solipsistic Sublime
Stephen’s “wisdom” is a double-edged sword: it offers the power of a creator but the loneliness of a prisoner.
* The Maeterlinckian Mirror: The quote about Socrates and Judas is the heart of the passage. It suggests a “destiny of character.” We do not “happen” upon robbers or giants; we are the kind of people to whom robbers and giants happen.
* The Ghostly Father/Son: By saying “Gravediggers bury Hamlet père and Hamlet fils,” Stephen resolves his theory. In death, the distinction between the Father (the ghost/creator) and the Son (the actor/created) vanishes. They are buried together because they were always the same person.
* The Hangman God (Dio Boia): This is Stephen’s critique of a deterministic universe. If we only ever “meet ourselves,” then the God who designed this system is a “hangman” who traps us in our own skin.
* The Androgynous Angel: This is the “sublime” resolution. By becoming “a wife unto himself,” the artist (like Shakespeare) achieves a state of self-fecundation. He no longer needs the “legal fiction” of a wife or the “bodily shame” of a son because he contains the entire universe within his own mind.
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Folio | Latin: folium (leaf). | A large sheet of paper folded once. The “First Folio” is the first collected edition of Shakespeare’s plays. |
| Bewept | Old English: bewēpan. | To weep over or lament. It carries a heavy, archaic poetic weight. |
| Nuncle | Middle English: Contraction of “mine uncle.” | Traditional fool’s address to a superior in Elizabethan drama (used famously by the Fool in King Lear). |
| Incidental Music | Latin: incidens (falling upon). | Music played during a play to accompany the action. Stephen views death as the final “scene” with music. |
| Ostler | Old French: hostelier. | A stableman. Stephen uses it to show the “Hangman God” in the most mundane, gritty roles of society. |
Coleridgean Resonance
The “wisdom” you noted echoes Coleridge’s view in Dejection: An Ode:
> “O Lady! we receive but what we give, > And in our life alone does Nature live.”
>
Stephen’s “Every life is many days… always meeting ourselves” is the prose equivalent of this Romantic epiphany. He realizes that the “shadow” he has been chasing (Shakespeare’s ghost) is actually his own reflection in the library windows.


This moment is the “deflation” of the intellectual balloon. After hours of cosmic theorizing, the reality of Dublin life—money, mockery, and the “orts and offals” of a strained friendship—crashes back into the room.
Interpretation: The Great “No”
The most significant moment in this passage is Stephen’s prompt “No” when asked if he believes his own theory.
* The Performance: Stephen’s “No” reveals that the entire theory was a defensive intellectual mask. He doesn’t need to believe it; he just needed to prove he could out-think the older men in the room.
* The French Triangle: Eglinton calls it a “French triangle” (a ménage à trois), reducing Stephen’s grand metaphysical architecture to a common plot about a cheating wife and two brothers.
* Mulligan’s Malice: Buck Mulligan’s joke about Stephen studying Thomas Aquinas (Summa contra Gentiles) in a brothel with “gonorrheal ladies” is a direct strike at Stephen’s attempt to reconcile the sacred with the profane. He calls Stephen “Wandering Ængus,” mocking him as a failed, drifting poet of the Celtic Twilight.
* Pieces of Silver: The mention of “pieces of silver” links Stephen to Judas again. He is selling his ideas (which he doesn’t believe in) for a guinea, just as he feels he has sold his integrity by hanging around Mulligan.
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Douce | French: doux (sweet/soft). | Used ironically to describe Mr. Best as a “sweet” but perhaps shallow herald. |
| Variorum | Latin: cum notis variorum (with notes of various people). | An edition of a text containing various readings and interpretations. |
| Egomen | Greek/Latin Hybrid: Ego (I) + Men. | Stephen’s play on “Amen.” He wonders if he is the only one who can help himself believe. |
| Orts and Offals | Middle English: Ort (scraps) + Offal (waste parts). | Leftovers or rubbish. It signifies the intellectual and literal scraps Stephen feels he is being fed. |
| Fraidrine | Portmanteau: Fred Ryan + “Fraid” (afraid). | Stephen’s nickname for the economist, playing on his name and perhaps his personality. |
The “Apostolic” Ending
Stephen’s thought, “I believe, O Lord, help my unbelief,” is a direct quote from the Gospel of Mark. It perfectly captures his state: he is a man who wants the structure of faith and the authority of a father, but possesses the cold, analytical mind of a skeptic.


This passage represents the “catastrophe” (the final resolution) of Stephen’s Shakespearean argument. He moves from the biographical details of a 17th-century playwright to a terrifying, modernist vision of the soul as a closed loop.
Interpretation: The World as a Badly Written Folio
Stephen is arguing that we are essentially trapped in the “theatre” of our own minds.
* The Circular Return: Shakespeare returning to Stratford to plant a mulberry tree is, for Stephen, the ultimate symbol of the artistic cycle. The “motion is ended” when the artist returns to his literal and metaphorical roots to die.
* The “Man Delights Him Not” Echo: Stephen quotes Hamlet (Act 2, Scene 2) to show the artist’s ultimate disillusionment. By the end, the creator realizes that the world they built is just a shadow of their own internal struggles.
* The Dio Boia (Hangman God): This is one of the most famous blasphemies in Ulysses. Stephen views the Creator not as a loving father, but as a “butcher” or “hangman” who bungled the script of the universe (creating light before the sun). If God is “all in all,” then God must also embody the roles of the betrayed (cuckold) and the betrayer (bawd).
* The Androgynous Angel: Stephen concludes that the only way to escape the “shame” of paternity and the “legal fiction” of marriage is to become an “androgynous angel”—a being who is self-contained, being “a wife unto himself.” This is the ultimate state of the artist: someone who creates from within themselves, needing no outside “other.”
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Hamlet Père / Fils | French: Father / Son. | Stephen insists they are both Shakespeare; the creator is both the dead father and the living son. |
| Prosperous Prospero | Latin: prosperare (to make happy/successful). | The protagonist of The Tempest; Stephen sees him as the retired Shakespeare finally “rewarded” with peace. |
| Dio Boia | Italian: Dio (God) + Boia (Executioner). | A visceral Italian curse. Stephen uses it to describe a God who kills His own creations. |
| Bawd | Middle English: baude (bold/shameless). | A person who procures women for lustful purposes; a pimp. |
| Ostler | Middle English: hosteler. | Someone who looks after horses at an inn. Used here to show God’s presence in the lowliest roles. |
.)


In this climactic summary, Stephen moves from Shakespeare the man to a terrifying, all-encompassing vision of the “Creator” as a cosmic playwright. He suggests that we are all trapped in a script of our own making.
Interpretation: The Mirror of the Soul
Stephen’s argument reaches its peak with a series of psychological and theological paradoxes:
* The Internal Conflict: He describes Shakespeare’s mind as both the victim (the Moor/Othello) and the torturer (Iago). Iago is the “hornmad” (insanely jealous) intellect that forces the emotional self to suffer.
* The Return to the Source: He notes that Shakespeare returned to Stratford at the end of his life to plant a mulberry tree. To Stephen, this signifies the closing of a circle—returning to the “spot of earth where he was born” to witness his own end.
* The Socrates/Judas Principle: Citing the Belgian playwright Maeterlinck, Stephen argues that our external reality is just a projection of our internal state. We never truly meet “others”; we only ever meet versions of ourselves—ghosts, giants, or brothers—as we “walk through ourselves.”
* The Hangman God: Stephen offers a dark view of the Creator. He calls God the “dio boia” (Hangman God), a bungling playwright who created light before the sun. He posits that God, being “all in all,” would be a “cuckold” too, except that in heaven there is no marriage—only an “androgynous angel” who is self-sufficient.
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Cuckold | Old French: cucuault (from cucu, the cuckoo bird). | A man whose wife is unfaithful. The cuckoo lays eggs in other birds’ nests. |
| Hornmad | Early Modern English: Jealousy so intense it leads to madness. | Alluding to the “horns” of a cuckold. |
| Maeterlinck | Proper Name: Maurice Maeterlinck. | A Symbolist playwright who believed the external world was a mirror of the soul. |
| Dio Boia | Italian: dio (god) + boia (executioner/hangman). | A blasphemous Italian slur for God as a cruel cosmic joker. |
| Androgynous | Greek: andros (man) + gyne (woman). | Having both male and female characteristics; a state of spiritual “completion” in Stephen’s view. |
| Eureka | Greek: heureka (I have found it). | Archimedes’ famous cry; used here by Mulligan to mock Stephen’s “grand discovery.” |
The “Brothers-in-love”
Stephen uses the term “brothers-in-love” instead of “brothers-in-law.” This is a subtle dig at his theory that Shakespeare’s brothers were “in love” with Shakespeare’s wife, Anne. It reinforces his belief that every person we encounter is merely a character in our personal drama.


Stephen is now delivering the “grand unified theory” of Shakespeare’s psyche. He argues that Shakespeare wasn’t just writing stories; he was obsessively re-enacting a single, traumatic psychological wound: Banishment.
Interpretation: The Architecture of Obsession
Stephen’s argument moves from the literary to the theological, and finally to the hilariously honest.
* The Usurping Brother: Stephen posits that Shakespeare’s preoccupation with brothers who steal crowns or wives (Claudius in Hamlet, Antonio in The Tempest, Edmund in Lear) stems from a real-life betrayal by his own brothers, Richard and Edmund.
* The Dramatic Arc: He uses the classical Greek structure of drama—Protasis (introduction), Epitasis (complication), Catastasis (climax), and Catastrophe (resolution)—to show that this theme followed Shakespeare from his first play to his last.
* The “Original Sin”: Stephen borrows the language of the Maynooth Catechism (the standard Catholic teaching in Ireland at the time). He suggests Shakespeare’s “original sin” wasn’t his own, but one “committed by another”—implying his wife Anne Hathaway’s alleged infidelity with his brothers.
* The Tombstone: He refers to the famous curse on Shakespeare’s grave (“Curst be he that moves my bones”). Stephen notes that Shakespeare’s wife is buried near him but not with him, which he interprets as a final, “petrified” act of banishment.
* The Honest Admission: After this brilliant display of erudition, Stephen admits he hasn’t even read all the plays he’s citing. It’s a moment of “candor” that reveals his whole argument as a desperate, beautiful piece of performance art.
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Protasis | Greek: pro (before) + teinein (to stretch). | The introductory part of a play where characters are set. |
| Epitasis | Greek: epi (upon) + teinein. | The main action where the plot thickens. |
| Catastasis | Greek: kata (down) + stasis (standing). | The climax or the point where the action is at its height. |
| Catastrophe | Greek: kata (down) + strephein (to turn). | The final resolution or “down-turning” of the plot. |
| Maynooth | Irish Place Name: Maigh Nuad. | The site of the premier Irish Catholic seminary; shorthand for rigid, orthodox dogma. |
| Sable / Or / Argent | Heraldic French: Black / Gold / Silver. | (Recall) The colors of the crest he “toadied” for. |
The “Sua Donna” of it All
When Stephen mentions Shakespeare’s daughter Susan (Susanna) being a “chip of the old block” regarding adultery, he is linking the “sins of the father” to the next generation. He sees a cycle of betrayal that even the “Infinite variety” of the plays cannot mask.


In this movement, the intellectual “performance” begins to crumble under the weight of Stephen’s own exhaustion and self-doubt. He is moving from the cosmic (the stars) back to the mundane (his holes in his socks).
Interpretation: The Falling Icarus
Stephen’s internal monologue shifts to his own name, Stephen Dedalus, and the heavy mythological burden it carries.
* Bous Stephanoumenos: Greek for “ox-soul crowned.” It refers to a sacrificial ox. Stephen sees himself as a martyr to his own intellect, “crowned” by his name but led to the slaughter of public mockery.
* The Fabulous Artificer: He invokes Daedalus, the great craftsman of Greek myth who built wings to fly. But Stephen immediately undercuts this: “You flew. Whereto?” He reminds himself of his failed flight to Paris, where he lived in poverty before returning to Dublin.
* Lapwing / Icarus: He calls himself a Lapwing—a bird known for its halting flight and for luring predators away from its nest with cries. He feels like a “seabedabbled” Icarus who has fallen into the “void” he spoke of earlier.
* The “Brother” Motive: Mr. Best tries to simplify Stephen’s complex theory into a “fairytale” trope (the three brothers). Stephen scorns this. To him, the brothers (Richard and Edmund) aren’t fairytale heroes; they are the “wicked uncles” of Shakespeare’s life—the usurpers of his “good name.”
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Autontimorumenos | Greek: Heauton Timoroumenos (The Self-Tormentor). | A play by Terence. Stephen identifies as his own tormentor. |
| Sua donna | Italian: “His lady.” | Referring to S. D. (Stephen Dedalus) but playing on the initials. |
| Springhalted | Veterinary/English: A lameness in horses causing a sudden jerk of the leg. | Describes the librarian’s nervous, twitchy movement. |
| Rectly | Contraction: Of “Directly.” | Joyce uses this to mimic the speed and “creaking” efficiency of Lyster’s departure. |
| Whetstone | Old English: hwetstān. A stone used for sharpening tools. | Stephen uses his brother (and others) as “whetstones” to sharpen his own wit. |
| Esau | Biblical: The brother of Jacob who sold his birthright for a bowl of stew. | Stephen feels he has “sold” his soul for the “stew” of intellectual fame/drinks. |
The “Brother as Umbrella”
Stephen’s line, “A brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella,” is classic Joycean cynicism. It highlights the theme of paternity vs. fraternity. In the “Apostolic Succession,” the line goes Father to Son; the brother is a lateral distraction, a “wicked uncle” like Richard III or Edmund who tries to steal the inheritance.


That is a striking parallel. The “Arunachala Meteor” of April 14, 1950, is well-documented; as Ramana Maharshi took his final breath, a bright luminous body moved slowly across the sky toward the peak of the holy mountain.
Stephen Dedalus would argue that it is not a coincidence, but he would do so through the lens of symbolism, not necessarily physical causality.
1. The Argument for “Signature”
Stephen’s view is that the “great man” is a microcosm. If the universe is a coherent text (as he believes, following the mystical traditions of the “void” and the “macrocosm”), then a significant shift in the human spirit—like the birth of Shakespeare or the Mahasamadhi of a sage—must have a corresponding “punctuation mark” in the heavens.
* For Shakespeare: The supernova in Cassiopeia acts as a “W” (William), a celestial branding.
* For Ramana Maharshi: The comet/meteor moving toward Arunachala acts as a “Return,” a visual representation of the Atman merging back into the source.
2. The “Many People” Problem
You raised a vital point: thousands of people are born (or die) during these astronomical events. Why do we only link them to the “Greats”?
* The Statistical View (The “Unco Guid” Logic): There are millions of stars and constant astronomical phenomena. Given enough time, a comet will eventually coincide with a famous person’s death. To a statistician, this is a “Texas Sharpshooter” fallacy—we draw the bullseye around the bullet hole after it hits.
* The Joycean/Stephen View: Stephen would say that only the “Poet” or the “Sage” has the power to claim the event. The thousands of other people born that day are “porous” (to use your word); they don’t leave a “signature” on history. Only the one who “devises that mystical estate” (like fatherhood or art) effectively “owns” the star.
3. Synchronicity vs. Coincidence
Carl Jung (who was a contemporary of Joyce and actually treated Joyce’s daughter) called these “meaningful coincidences” Synchronicity.
* Synchronicity suggests that the internal world (the soul) and the external world (the stars) are not separate. They are like two clocks synchronized to the same time. When a massive internal event happens, the external world “ticks” in unison.


That is a magnificent, monstrous construction! You’ve essentially taken Shakespeare’s longest word and turned it into a Joycean “Thunderword”—the kind of 100-letter linguistic explosion he used in Finnegans Wake to represent a fall, a crash, or a cosmic shift.
Your extension adds a layer of modern sensory decay and legalistic weight to the original Latin “honor.”
Deconstructing Your Compound Word
If we peel back the layers of Honorificabilitudinitatibusteducatorporousufructifiedeinsofferingulchopinetzahametenthompsonneteereeleeryemennuendomorphicicle, we find a fascinating “stream of consciousness” narrative:
* Educator/Porous: Suggests the leaking or “porous” nature of knowledge being taught.
* Usufructified: From Usufruct (the legal right to enjoy the fruits of someone else’s property). It fits perfectly with Stephen’s theme of Shakespeare “using” his family’s names.
* Einsoffering: A blend of Ein Sof (the infinite God in Kabbalah) and a sacrificial “offering.”
* Chopine: An Elizabethan platform shoe—very Shakespearean.
* Zahamet/Thompson/Nete: You’ve pulled in Hamnet (the son) and hidden it inside “Thompson” and “Net,” mirroring how Stephen says names are hidden in the plays.
* Nuendomorphic: Merging Innuendo with Morphic (shape-changing).
* Icicle: Ending on a cold, frozen note—perhaps the “corpse of John Shakespeare” that Stephen mentioned earlier.
The “Initial among the Stars”
Stephen would love your word because it functions like the constellation Cassiopeia he describes. It’s a “signature” that looks like a chaotic jumble until you know how to read the “W” (or in this case, the “William” and “Hamnet”) hidden within it.
Etymology of the “Firedrake” Star
Stephen mentions a star that “shone by day.” He is likely referring to Tycho’s Supernova (SN 1572).
* Scientific Etymology: From Super (above) and Nova (new).
* Historical Context: In 1572 (when Shakespeare was 8 years old), a star appeared in Cassiopeia that was so bright it was visible during the day for weeks. Stephen uses this real astronomical event to claim that the universe itself was signing Shakespeare’s name (“W”) at his birth.


Stephen is moving from “family drama” into a cosmic sort of ego-mysticism here. He is arguing that Shakespeare’s name wasn’t just a label, but a “signature” written into his art and even the stars themselves.
Interpretation: The Signature in the Stars
Stephen is at his most poetic here, using several layers of imagery to describe Shakespeare’s obsession with his own name and status:
* The Painter’s Cameo: He compares Shakespeare to a Renaissance painter (like Michelangelo or Botticelli) who hides his own face in a corner of a massive fresco. Shakespeare does this by including characters named “William” in minor roles (like the country fellow in As You Like It).
* The Coat of Arms: Stephen mocks Shakespeare for “toadying” (sucking up) to the authorities to get a coat of arms for his father. The description “on a bend sable a spear or steeled argent” is the actual heraldic description of Shakespeare’s crest.
* The Celestial “W”: This is the most brilliant part of Stephen’s rhetoric. He points to Cassiopeia, a constellation shaped like a “W”. He claims a supernova (the “firedrake”) appeared there when Shakespeare was born, effectively branding the sky with the poet’s initial.
The “Big Compound Word”: Honorificabilitudinitatibus
You caught the “big one.” This isn’t just a Joyce invention; it’s a real word that Shakespeare himself used in Love’s Labour’s Lost.
* Etymology: It is the ablative plural of the Medieval Latin word honorificabilitudinitas.
* Meaning: “The state of being able to achieve honors.”
* Significance: It was long cited as the longest word in the English language (or at least, the longest word consisting only of alternating consonants and vowels). In the context of Ulysses, it represents the “long-winded” vanity of the literati and the absurdity of chasing titles and crests.
Etymology & Glossary
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Quakerlyster | Portmanteau: Quaker + Lyster (the librarian’s name). | Joyce fusing the man’s religion with his identity. |
| A tempo / Stringendo | Italian (Musical): “At the original speed” / “Pressing forward/speeding up.” | Musical cues for how the dialogue is being spoken—Stephen is getting excited. |
| Filches | Middle English: filchen (to steal). | A quote from Othello about the value of a “good name.” |
| Sable / Or / Argent | Heraldic French: Black / Gold / Silver. | The specific colors of Shakespeare’s official family crest. |
| Firedrake | Old English: fyr (fire) + draca (dragon). | A term for a meteor or a supernova; a “fire-dragon” in the sky. |
| Shottery | Place Name: A small village near Stratford. | Where Anne Hathaway (Shakespeare’s wife) lived; Stephen imagines Shakespeare walking home from her “arms.” |


You’re very welcome! It’s fascinating how Joyce layers these meanings—taking a tragic family name like Hamnet, a legendary Norse “madman” like Amleth, and a quiet English hamlet, then weaving them into a single intellectual ghost story.
Stephen Dedalus would likely argue that Shakespeare chose the name specifically because it contained all those echoes: the death of a son, the “village” of the mind, and the “foolishness” of feigning madness.
Since we’ve navigated the “Scylla and Charybdis” of Shakespearean theory today, we can move on whenever you’re ready.
This passage is from the “Scylla and Charybdis” episode of James Joyce’s Ulysses. Set in the National Library of Ireland, Stephen Dedalus is performing a high-wire intellectual act: he is defending his idiosyncratic theory that Shakespeare’s Hamlet is not based on Shakespeare-as-Hamlet, but rather Shakespeare-as-the-Ghost (the dead father).
Interpretation: The Ghost of Paternity
Stephen’s argument is a profound, albeit cynical, meditation on the nature of fatherhood versus motherhood.
* Paternity as a “Legal Fiction”: Stephen argues that while motherhood is an objective, biological reality (Amor matris), fatherhood is a social and “mystical” construct. Because a man cannot “feel” himself with child (citing Boccaccio’s Calandrino), he must rely on faith and law to claim a son.
* The Theological Parallel: He links fatherhood to the “Apostolic Succession” of the Catholic Church. Just as the Church is built on the “void” of uncertain succession from Peter, the family unit is built on the “incertitude” of whether a father is truly the biological progenitor.
* The Oedipal Conflict: Stephen paints a bleak picture of the father-son relationship. The son is a “new male” whose very existence marks the “father’s decline.” They are separated by a “bodily shame” so strong that even the most depraved criminal annals rarely record father-son incest; they are inherently rivals.
* Shakespeare’s Catharsis: Stephen posits that Shakespeare wrote Hamlet shortly after his own father’s (John Shakespeare) death to exorcise the “mystical estate” of fatherhood, passing the burden of “the son” onto his own creation while he himself took on the role of the ghost.
Etymology & Glossary of Difficult Terms
Joyce’s prose is a dense thicket of Hiberno-English, Elizabethan slang, and Latin. Here is a breakdown of the most obscure terms:
| Term | Etymology / Meaning | Context in Passage |
|—|—|—|
| Unco guid | Scots: Unco (extraordinarily) + guid (good). | Satirical term for the “strictly righteous” or hypocritically moral. |
| Kern | Middle Irish: ceithern (a band of foot soldiers). | Refers to an Irish foot soldier; used here to describe a rugged, rustic man. |
| Strossers | Irish: triubhas (trousers). | Tight-fitting breeches or trousers worn by Irishmen in the 16th/17th centuries. |
| Codpiece | Middle English: cod (bag/scrotum) + piece. | A flap or pouch on the front of tight-fitting breeches. |
| Clauber | Irish: clabar (mud/muck). | Wet, sticky mud or clay. |
| Wilding | Old English: wild. | A wild apple tree or a branch from one (a rustic walking stick). |
| Nel mezzo del cammin… | Italian: “In the middle of the journey of our life.” | The famous opening line of Dante’s Inferno, marking age 35. |
| Amor matris | Latin: “Love of a mother.” | Stephen notes it can be subjective (mother’s love for child) or objective (child’s love for mother). |
| Amplius, Adhuc… | Latin: “More, still, again, afterwards.” | Stephen’s internal “director” or the library surroundings prompting him to continue his performance. |

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