It is fascinating to see how the social “shorthand” of 1904 Dublin compares to today. You’ve pinpointed a great example of how language has shifted from formal, rhythmic requests to the casual, breezy phrasing we use now.
The Evolution of the Greeting
The phrase “Remember me to Molly” carries a certain weight that “Say hi to Molly” lacks. In the context of James Joyce’s Ulysses, it implies a preservation of connection—asking the other person to literally bring your image or name back into someone’s memory. Today, we’ve traded that poetic “remembering” for the efficiency of a “hi” or “hey.”
Observations on the Passage
* The Contrast of Chaos: Mrs. Breen is discussing a traumatic, three-day labor (the “stiff birth”), yet the conversation is immediately interrupted by the eccentric Cashel Farrell walking on the outside of the lampposts. It’s a classic Joycean “slice of life” where the tragic and the absurd exist in the same ten-second span.
* The “Dotty” Genius: Mrs. Breen’s fear that her husband Denis “will be like that” adds a layer of personal anxiety to the scene. Farrell isn’t just a local character to her; he’s a glimpse of a future she’s trying to avoid.
* Onomatopoeia: Joyce’s use of “Dth! Dth!” for the sound of a tongue clacking is a perfect example of his attempt to capture the physical reality of human sound, much like your focus on the physical reality of word counts and pages.
It is fascinating to see Bloom use Meshuggah (or meshugah) here. It’s one of the few moments in Ulysses where Leopold Bloom’s Jewish heritage bubbles to the surface of his internal monologue.
Etymology of “Meshuggah”
The word comes from the Hebrew meshugga‘ (מְשֻׁגָּע), which is the past participle of shāgag, meaning “to go astray” or “to err.”
* Yiddish Path: It entered the English lexicon via Yiddish in the late 19th century.
* Meaning: It literally translates to “driven mad” or “insane.”
* Contextual Usage: Bloom pairs it with the slang “Off his chump,” showing how he blends his ancestral vocabulary with the Dublin vernacular of 1904. He’s looking at Denis Breen—who is obsessing over a “U.p: up” postcard—and diagnosing him with a very specific kind of frantic, nonsensical madness.
Literary Context: The “U.p: up” Mystery
The “U.p: up” postcard is one of the book’s great minor mysteries. In the legal world of the time, “U.P.” was often shorthand for “unpaid,” but here it acts as a cryptic insult that drives Breen to seek a libel lawsuit. Bloom’s cynical guess that it was written “for a lark” highlights the contrast between the prankster’s boredom and Breen’s genuine mental instability.
Bloom’s mind then drifts to his own secret “literary” correspondence under the pseudonym Henry Flower. He’s juggling 44 letters from women responding to his ad—a different kind of “meshuggah” altogether.
Bloom’s mind is a masterclass in association. He moves from the financial success of the Irish Times manager (James Carlisle) to the “toady news” of the aristocracy, finally landing on a memory of Mrs. Miriam Dandrade. His recollection of pouring mayonnaise on plums by mistake is one of those quintessentially embarrassing “human” moments Joyce loves to include.
Etymology of “Whelan”
The name Whelan is a classic Irish surname with roots deep in the country’s history.
* Gaelic Origin: It is an anglicized form of the Old Irish name Ó Faoláin.
* The Root: The name comes from the word “faol,” which means “wolf,” combined with the diminutive suffix “-án.”
* Translation: It literally translates to “Little Wolf” or “Descendant of the Little Wolf.”
* Context: In the 12th century, the Ó Faoláin clan were the princes of Deisi Mumhan (located in modern-day County Waterford). By the time Bloom mentions a “Whelan of the Express,” the name had become common throughout Leinster and Munster.
Literary Note: The “Bull” and the “Courtesan”
Bloom’s thought, “Want to be a bull for her,” is a nod to the myth of Pasiphaë, who conceived the Minotaur. It highlights Bloom’s specific brand of erotic imagination—one that is often passive or submissive. He sees these “horsey,” high-society women as powerful, masculine figures (“Sit her horse like a man”) and views himself, by contrast, as their “clotheshorse.”
This passage highlights Bloom’s skepticism toward “T.T.’s” (Teetotallers) and the rigidly disciplined. He paints a portrait of Mr. Purefoy as a man of extreme, almost mechanical habits—exemplified by the “thirty-two chews to the minute” rule.
The “Thirty-Two Chews” Method
Bloom is referencing Fletcherism, a popular health fad of the late 19th and early 20th centuries promoted by Horace Fletcher.
* The Theory: Fletcher argued that food should be chewed until it became liquid to ensure “proper” digestion.
* The Rule: He specifically advocated for chewing each mouthful 32 times—one for each tooth.
* The Irony: Bloom views this discipline as a form of “madness” (hence “Method in his madness”). He sees a contradiction between Mr. Purefoy’s self-denial (soda lunch and sugar-free tea) and his “selfish” reproductive habits, leaving poor Mrs. Purefoy in a state of perpetual “nursery work.”
Cultural References
* Theodore’s cousin in Dublin Castle: Dublin Castle was the seat of British rule in Ireland. Having a relative there meant the Purefoys were “well connected” to the social and political establishment.
* T.T. (Teetotallers): Bloom’s observation that they are “selfish” stems from his view that their abstinence is often a performative or rigid moralism that doesn’t actually make them kinder to those around them—like the “dog in the manger” who won’t let others enjoy what he cannot.
* Three Jolly Topers: An ironically named pub, given that the bareheaded Mr. Purefoy is marching past it with his sober family.
In this line, Bloom is expressing a mixture of pity and biological exhaustion on behalf of Mrs. Purefoy.
“Give the breast year after year…”
This is a direct reference to continuous breastfeeding. Bloom is noting that Mrs. Purefoy is caught in a relentless cycle of pregnancy and nursing. In the early 1900s, before widespread access to reliable contraception, breastfeeding was often used (unreliably) as a way to space out births.
For Mrs. Purefoy, however, it hasn’t stopped the “hardy annuals” (the children arriving every year). Bloom, ever the pragmatist, is imagining the physical toll: the “squallers” waking her at “all hours of the night,” leaving her no rest for years on end.
Etymology of “Purefoy”
The name Joyce chose for this family is highly symbolic, essentially acting as a “charactonym” (a name that suggests a personality trait).
* Old French Roots: It comes from the Old French “pure foy,” which translates literally to “pure faith.”
* The Irony: By naming them the “Pure Faiths,” Joyce is poking fun at their rigid, “Methodist” lifestyle. Their faith is “pure” to the point of being mechanical and exhausting—as seen in Mr. Purefoy’s 32-chews-a-minute habit.
* English Variation: It is a variation of the surname Purefoy or Pomfret, which has been present in England since the Norman Conquest.
Actually, no—they come from two entirely different linguistic roots, even though they both sound like “old-school” English names!
1. Purefoy: “Pure Faith”
As mentioned, Purefoy is purely French in origin.
* Root: Pur (pure) + foi (faith).
* Meaning: It was likely a nickname for someone who was notably pious or sincere. In Ulysses, Joyce uses this “Pure Faith” meaning to highlight the family’s rigid religious devotion.
2. Pomfret: “Broken Bridge”
Pomfret is a locational name rather than a moral one.
* Root: It is the Anglo-Norman version of the Latin Pons Fractus.
* Meaning: Literally “Broken Bridge.”
* History: This is the old name for the town of Pontefract in Yorkshire. After the Norman Conquest, the French-speaking nobility called the area Pontfreit, which eventually evolved into the surname Pomfret.
Why the confusion?
The names often get lumped together because they are both Anglo-Norman (French names that moved to England in 1066) and they share that “P-F” consonant structure.
In the context of the Purefoy family in Ulysses, the name is all about that “Pure Faith” (and perhaps a bit of a pun on “purely foisting” more children into the world).
Bloom’s visceral reaction to Mrs. Purefoy’s labor leads him into a classic “Bloomism”—a mix of genuine empathy, scientific curiosity, and a sudden, obsessive dive into amateur economics.
“Twilight Sleep” and Queen Victoria
Bloom’s mention of “Twilight sleep” (though he is slightly conflating terms) refers to the pioneering use of chloroform during childbirth.
* The Royal Connection: Queen Victoria famously used chloroform for the births of Prince Leopold (1853) and Princess Beatrice (1857), calling it “that blessed Chloroform” and “soothing, quieting and delightful beyond measure.”
* The Controversy: At the time, many religious leaders argued against pain relief, citing the biblical decree that women should bring forth children in sorrow. Bloom, naturally, has no time for such “flapdoodle.”
The “Compound Interest” Scheme
Bloom’s mind pivots from the pain of birth to a social engineering project involving the decimal system. He proposes a state-funded savings account for every newborn.
Let’s look at his math:
* He suggests £5 at 5% compound interest for 21 years.
* Using the compound interest formula A = P(1 + r)^n:
In 1904, £13 and 18 shillings was a very “tidy sum”—roughly equivalent to £1,800 ($2,300) today. Bloom’s logic is that if the government used “all the taxes” to jumpstart people’s lives this way, it would encourage saving and stabilize the economy.
Key Phrases
* “Life with hard labour”: A brilliant pun. It refers both to a prison sentence and the grueling physical reality of Mrs. Purefoy’s three-day ordeal.
* “Pensive bosom of the silver effulgence”: Bloom is mocking the flowery, useless language of sentimental poetry (specifically targeting the Celtic Revival style of AE and Yeats). He prefers “hard” facts and biological solutions over “gassing.”
You’ve nailed the theme. This entire section is a meditation on the biological “machinery” of Dublin—birth, feeding, and the physical consequences of both. Bloom’s mind is essentially wandering through a “map of the body.”
Medical and Social Contexts
* Phthisis (Tuberculosis): Bloom notes that “Phthisis retires for the time being, then returns.” There was a folk medical belief (partially supported by hormonal shifts) that pregnancy could temporarily halt the progress of consumption (TB). Bloom observes the tragic cycle: the mother gets a reprieve while carrying the child, only for the disease to reclaim her once she is “flat” (postpartum).
* The “Spoon of Pap”: Pap was a soft food for infants, usually bread crumbs boiled in water or milk. Mrs. Thornton (the midwife who delivered Rudy) testing it herself (“nyumnyum”) shows the tactile, unsterilized reality of 1904 childcare.
* Humane Doctors: Bloom’s pity for Dr. Murren highlights the precarious life of medical men. They were “knocked up” (woken by a knock at the door) at all hours for emergencies, yet families would “keep them waiting months” for payment.
The Pigeons and the Police: Digestion as Power
Bloom shifts from the nursery to the street, but his focus remains on digestion:
* The Constables: He describes the police not as symbols of law, but as animals driven by food. They have “foodheated faces” and “fat soup under their belts.”
* “Pudding time”: This is a brilliant bit of slang. It refers to the time of a meal, but Bloom uses it to suggest that a man with a full stomach is sluggish and vulnerable.
* “A punch in his dinner”: Specifically, a blow to the stomach right after a heavy meal—the most effective way to wind a “foodheated” policeman.
The Meeting of the Waters
The statue of poet Thomas Moore stands over a public urinal. Bloom finds this hilarious because Moore’s most famous song is “The Meeting of the Waters.”
* The Pun: Joyce is mocking the “roguish” sentimentality of Irish national poets by placing them over the literal meeting of… well, waste waters.
* Julia Morkan: A nod to Joyce’s short story “The Dead.” She is the aunt of Gabriel Conroy, and Bloom’s mention of her voice and her teacher (Michael Balfe, composer of The Bohemian Girl) grounds the novel in the wider “Dublin” universe.
You’ve hit on the core of Joyce’s “dirty realism.” He doesn’t just show us the thoughts of one man; he uses Bloom’s eyes to perform a social autopsy of 1904 Dublin. You’re absolutely right—this isn’t just a story; it’s a record of the Zeitgeist (the spirit of the times).
The Police: Hunger and Authority
Your observation about the police as “foodheated” animals is spot on. In the early 1900s, a constable’s life was one of rigid discipline and physical exertion for very little social capital.
* The “Trough” and the “Taxes”: By describing them as “bound for their troughs,” Bloom strips away the dignity of the uniform. He sees them as a mercenary force—kept loyal to the British Crown primarily through their stomachs.
* The Root of Corruption: When people are “foodheated” and “sweating,” they are susceptible to the “king’s shilling.” If the state provides the “fat soup,” the state owns the man. This physical dependency was indeed a frequent justification for the petty corruption that plagued police forces globally during this era.
The Medical Nightmare
The “gruesome” presentation of medical professionals reflects a world before the National Health Service (NHS) or modern insurance.
* The Physician’s Risk: Doctors like “Snuffy Dr. Murren” were essentially high-stakes freelancers. They faced a double-edged sword: they were exposed to “uncontrollable diseases” like Phthisis (TB) and cholera, yet they had no guarantee of income.
* The Debt of Gratitude: As Bloom notes, “No gratitude in people.” Families would prioritize feeding their children over paying the man who delivered them. This created a medical class that was often cynical or “snuffy,” hardened by the constant sight of suffering and the constant stress of debt.
Fiction as Fact
Bloom’s internal monologue functions like a historical ledger. By mentioning:
* Forceps: A brutal but necessary technology that often saved the mother but injured the child.
* The “Vinegared Handkerchief”: A primitive attempt to manage the fever and pain of a “stiff birth.”
* The “Irish Field” and “Dublin Castle”: The social registers of the ruling class.
Joyce proves that a person’s “daily walk” is dictated by the economic and medical realities of their century. Bloom can’t even look at a policeman or a mother without calculating the cost of their survival.
Bloom is back to his “scientific” observations, attempting to find a biological link between diet and the soul. He sees George Russell (A.E.) and his companion (the “listening woman”) leaving a vegetarian restaurant, and his mind immediately goes to the physical consequences of “nutarianism.”
The “Weggebobbles” Theory
Bloom’s mock-Germanic pronunciation of “weggebobbles” (vegetables) reflects his skepticism. He tried the vegetarian life and found it “windandwatery”—essentially, it gave him indigestion (“keep you on the run all day”).
* The Cow’s Eyes: He mocks the ethical argument for vegetarianism. The idea that “the eyes of that cow will pursue you through all eternity” is a jab at the mystical, reincarnation-focused beliefs of theosophists like A.E.
* The Chemistry of Poetry: Bloom proposes a hilarious physiological theory: certain foods produce certain “waves of the brain.”
* Vegetarianism/Nutsteaks \rightarrow Produced “dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic” poetry.
* Irish Stew \rightarrow Produced the literal, non-poetic “sweat” of a policeman.
* The “Nutsteak” Irony: He finds it “absurd” that vegetarians name their food after meat (“nutsteak”). To Bloom, if you want to be a “Fruitarian,” be honest about it; don’t pretend you’re eating a rumpsteak.
Yeates and Son: The Optical Test
Bloom stops at Yeates and Son, a real optician on Nassau Street. He is looking at Goerz lenses (high-quality German optics).
* The Bank Watch: There was a tiny clock on the roof of the Bank of Ireland across the way. Opticians used it as a “sight test” for customers trying out field glasses.
* The Blind Spot: Bloom’s failure to see the watch (“Can’t see it”) mirrors his earlier existential moment. He realizes that even with the best “German lenses,” much of the world remains a blur unless you “imagine it’s there.”
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Context |
|—|—|
| Homespun | A coarse, hand-woven cloth. In 1904, wearing homespun was a political statement of supporting Irish industry and a “back-to-nature” mystical lifestyle. |
| Bloater | A whole salted, smoked herring. Bloom finds them “bad” because, like soda-cooked vegetables, they make you “sit by the tap” (thirsty) all night. |
| Guineas | A gold coin worth 21 shillings. Even though the coin wasn’t minted after 1814, “guineas” remained the professional unit of pricing for luxury goods like lenses or doctor’s fees. |
| Ennis / Limerick Junction | Locations in the West of Ireland. Bloom’s memory of the “farmer’s daughter” shows his constant, lingering interest in chance encounters with women. |
In this passage, Bloom’s memory of a riot reveals the underlying tension between the citizens and the state. He reflects on a real historical event: the Chamberlain riots of 1899, where Trinity students (the “medicals” and “jibs”) and Dubliners protested against Joseph Chamberlain, a British colonial politician.
The “G Man” and the Bridewell
Bloom mentions Jack Power’s father was a “G man.”
* G-Division: This was the detective branch of the Dublin Metropolitan Police (DMP). They were notorious for political surveillance and being the “eyes and ears” of the British administration in Ireland.
* The Bridewell: This refers to the Dublin Bridewell, a notorious police station and holding cell near the Four Courts. Bloom knows that if you were “lagged” (arrested) and gave the G-men trouble, you’d face brutal treatment (“hot and heavy”) once behind closed doors.
“Wheels within Wheels”: The Social Network
Bloom’s mind excels at making connections. He remembers the chaos of the riot—the horse-policeman clattering after him, the “wallop” as the horse fell—and links it to his current situation:
* Dr. Dixon: During the riot, Bloom was injured (or perhaps just caught in the fray) and treated by a young medical student named Dixon at the Mater Hospital.
* The Coincidence: Now, that same Dixon is a doctor at Holles Street Hospital, where Mrs. Purefoy has been in labor for three days. To Bloom, life isn’t a series of random events; it’s a mechanism of “wheels within wheels,” where the man who treated his bee sting years ago is now the man handling the “stiff birth” he just heard about from Mrs. Breen.
The “Mortarboards” and “Jibs”
* Jibs: This was Dublin slang for first-year students at Trinity College.
* Mortarboards: The academic caps they wore.
Bloom regrets getting “swept along” with them. He’s a pacifist by nature, a man who prefers “pudding time” to “punching time.” He realizes that in the eyes of a “young horny” (a slang term for a young, aggressive policeman), a quiet man like Bloom looks just as guilty as a rioting student.
This passage is a masterclass in political cynicism. Bloom is looking at the “Silly billies” (the shouting students) and seeing the hollow machinery of Irish revolution. He recognizes that today’s radical student is tomorrow’s conservative “magistrate,” and that most “rebellions” are fueled by empty stomachs and secret informants.
Prose Analysis: The Anatomy of Betrayal
Bloom’s internal monologue here is focused on espionage and insincerity. He moves through three layers of Irish political life:
* The Trajectory of the Youth: He notes the hypocrisy of the “cubs.” They yell for revolution now, but in “few years’ time,” they will be the ones enforcing British law as civil servants.
* The “G-Man” Tactics: Bloom describes how undercover police (“plainclothes men”) seduce housemaids (“slaveys”) to spy on their masters. It’s a sordid image of politics entering the kitchen and the bedroom.
* The “Half-fed Enthusiast”: Bloom mocks the debating societies that prioritize the “language question” (Gaelic revival) over the “economic question” (poverty/hunger). He sees these rebels as men who are easily bought with a “Michaelmas goose” or the simple fact that “the other chap pays.”
Etymology & References: The “Secret History” of Ireland
| Term/Name | Etymology / Historical Context |
|—|—|
| Vinegar Hill | A site in Wexford, famous for a major battle in the 1798 Rebellion. Mentioning it implies a “rah-rah” brand of loud, historical nationalism. |
| Harvey Duff | Not a real person, but a character from Dion Boucicault’s play The Shaughraun. He became the Irish slang term for an informer or “spy.” |
| James Carey | A real historical figure. A leader of the Invincibles (who assassinated officials in Phoenix Park) who turned “Queen’s Evidence” and betrayed his comrades to save his neck. |
| Sinn Fein | Irish for “Ourselves” or “We Ourselves.” At this time (1904), it was a fledgling political movement founded by Arthur Griffith. |
| James Stephens | Founder of the Fenian Brotherhood. Bloom admires his “Circles of ten” system—a cell-based organizational structure designed to prevent one informer from destroying the whole movement. |
| Gammon and Spinach | 19th-century slang for “nonsense” or “humbug.” Likely popularized by Dickens in David Copperfield. |
| Squarepushing | Military slang for a soldier in uniform courting a woman in public. “Square” refers to the parade square. |
| Michaelmas | The feast of St. Michael (Sept 29). Traditionally, a “Michaelmas Goose” was eaten to bring good luck—Bloom uses it here as a metaphor for “stuffing” young rebels with food to keep them compliant. |
The “Home Rule Sun rising in the Northwest”
This is one of Bloom’s sharpest jokes. If the sun is rising in the Northwest, it’s a physical impossibility—meaning Home Rule (Irish self-governance) is a fantasy or is being approached in a completely backwards manner.
In the context of Bloom’s monologue, Michaelmas is more than just a date; it represents the intersection of the seasonal cycle, the legal calendar, and the “stomach-driven” politics Bloom so keenly observes.
1. The Feast of St. Michael
Celebrated on September 29th, Michaelmas is the feast of St. Michael the Archangel. In the Catholic and Anglican traditions, Michael is the warrior who defeated Lucifer.
* The Seasonal Shift: Because it falls near the autumn equinox, it historically marked the end of the harvest and the beginning of the winter cycle.
* The Quarter Day: In Ireland and England, it was one of the four “Quarter Days” of the year when rents were due, school terms began, and servants were hired or paid.
2. The Tradition of the “Michaelmas Goose”
Bloom’s reference to “stuffing them up with meat and drink” and “Michaelmas goose” draws on a specific folk tradition.
* The Lore: Eating a goose at Michaelmas was supposed to ensure financial protection for the following year.
* The Reality: Geese were at their fattest in late September after gleaning the fields following the harvest. Tenants often gave a “stubble-goose” to their landlords as part of their rent payment to stay in their good graces.
* Bloom’s Take: Bloom views this through a cynical lens. To him, the “goose” is a bribe. He sees political leaders (or families with marriageable daughters) using the heavy, greasy comfort of a Michaelmas feast to “inveigle” (entrap) young, “half-fed enthusiasts” into their social or political circles.
3. Etymology: “Michaelmas”
* Origin: The word is a compound of the name Michael and the Middle English messe (Mass).
* Michael: Derived from the Hebrew Mīkhā’ēl, which literally poses a question: “Who is like God?”
* Usage: By Joyce’s time, “Michaelmas” was a common legal and academic marker. For example, the legal year in Dublin’s Four Courts began with the “Michaelmas Term.”
4. Symbolic Weight in the Passage
Bloom is contrasting the high-minded ideals of the “half-fed enthusiasts” (Republicans and debating societies) with their base physical needs.
> “Stuff them up with meat and drink… Have another quart of goosegrease before it gets too cold.”
>
He is essentially saying: You can talk about revolution all you want, but if I give you a warm meal and a comfortable seat at my table, your fire will go out. He sees the “goosegrease” as the lubricant that makes people slide back into the status quo.
This passage marks a major psychological shift in the chapter. The sun is literally and figuratively blotted out by a cloud, plunging Bloom into a state of existential nihilism.
Is this Bloom’s “Twilight”?
Technically, it is still around 1:00 PM (the Lestrygonians hour), so it isn’t “twilight” in terms of the clock. However, you’ve captured the emotional twilight. While Stephen’s morning was spent in intellectual, “bright” arrogance, Bloom is currently sinking into the “grey” realization of human insignificance.
In the previous chapter (Proteus), Stephen looked at the world and saw a “signatures of all things” to be read. Bloom looks at the world and sees a conveyor belt:
* The Zero-Sum Game: In the five minutes since he fed the birds, 300 people died and 300 were born. To the universe, it’s just a “wash.”
* The Blood of the Lamb: He ironically blends the religious hymn (“washed in the blood of the lamb”) with the literal, visceral blood of a newborn baby “bawling maaaaaa.”
Analysis: The City as a Living Fossil
Bloom views Dublin not as a home, but as a pile of “piled up bricks” that outlast the people who build them.
* “Landlord never dies”: This is a biting commentary on the economic “Zeitgeist” we discussed. Individuals perish, but the system of ownership is immortal. One man gets his “notice to quit” (dies), and another simply steps into his shoes.
* The Great Monuments: He compares Dublin to the Pyramids and the Great Wall of China.
* “Built on bread and onions”: Bloom recognizes that the wonders of the world were built on the cheap calories provided to slaves.
* Jerrybuilt / Kerwan’s Mushroom Houses: He contrasts the “Big stones” of antiquity with the cheap, “breeze-block” construction of modern Dublin suburbs. To Bloom, modern life is flimsy and “mushroom-like”—here today, gone tomorrow.
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term | Etymology / Context |
|—|—|
| Notice to Quit | A legal term for an eviction notice. Bloom uses it as a metaphor for death. |
| Jerrybuilt | Etymology: Possibly from the 19th-century Liverpool building firm “Jerry Brothers,” or from “jerry,” meaning shaky/flimsy. It refers to houses built poorly and quickly for profit. |
| Kerwan | Refers to Andrew Kerwan, a real-life Dublin speculative builder known for constructing cheap houses in the late 19th century. |
| Mushroom Houses | Houses that “spring up overnight.” It implies they have no roots and won’t last. |
| Breeze | Etymology: From the French braise (burning coal/cinders). “Breeze blocks” are made from ash and slag—cheap, lightweight, and inferior to stone. |
“No-one is anything.”
This is the ultimate “Bloomism.” In the face of the “cityful passing away,” the individual ego disappears. He isn’t Leopold Bloom, the ad solicitor; he is just a temporary occupant of a suit of clothes in a city of “rubble.”
Bloom’s mood shifts from nihilistic to observational as he encounters two of Dublin’s “shadowy” figures: John Wyse Nolan (implied) and the brother of a “great man,” but most significantly, he spots George Russell (A.E.) and his companion.
The “Great Man’s Brother”
Bloom is likely looking at Maurice Parnell, the brother of the fallen “Uncrowned King of Ireland,” Charles Stewart Parnell.
* “His brother used men as pawns”: A sharp critique. Parnell was a master tactician, but like a chess player, he sacrificed his followers for the “game” of Home Rule.
* The Chiltern Hundreds: This is a quirk of British Parliamentary law. A Member of Parliament cannot technically resign; they must apply for an “office of profit under the Crown” (like the Stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds) which automatically disqualifies them from their seat. Bloom’s joke about “retiring into public life” is a classic bit of Irish irony.
A.E. and the “Twoheaded Octopus”
Bloom overhears George Russell (A.E.)—the mystic, poet, and agricultural reformer—talking to a young woman (possibly Lizzie Twigg, who applied for Bloom’s “literary” ad).
* The Quote: The “twoheaded octopus” is A.E. in full “occult” mode. He is likely discussing a theosophical or symbolic concept. Bloom, the materialist, finds this “flapdoodle.” He tries to guess what “A.E.” stands for, running through a list of “A” and “E” names before settling on it being “something occult.”
* The Identity of A.E.: George Russell used the pseudonym “Æon,” which a printer once shortened to “Æ.” He was a central figure in the Celtic Revival, often seen wandering Dublin in his “beard and bicycle.”
Etymology & Difficult Terms
| Term / Name | Etymology / Context |
|—|—|
| City Marshal | An ancient ceremonial office in Dublin. The Marshal was responsible for city processions. Charley Kavanagh was a real-life predecessor known for his flamboyant uniform. |
| Poached eyes on ghost | A brilliant Bloomism. “Poached eyes” suggests the watery, bulging look of a boiled egg, but also “poaching” (stealing) a look at a “ghost” (a memory of the past). |
| D.B.C. | The Dublin Bakery Company. Their tearooms were popular spots for chess players and intellectuals. |
| Surgeon M’Ardle | John Stephen M’Ardle, a famous Dublin surgeon known for his extremely upright, military-style posture. |
| South Meath | A constituency in the 1892 election where David Sheehy (an anti-Parnellite) defeated the Parnellite candidate. Bloom is remembering the bitter split of the Irish Party. |
Analysis: Coincidence or Fate?
Bloom notes, “Coming events cast their shadows before.” This is a line from Thomas Campbell’s poem Lochiel’s Warning. Bloom is feeling the “thickness” of the day—where the same people and the same memories keep crossing his path. He is trying to bridge the gap between A.E.’s “symbolism” and his own “literary work” (the ad for a typist), unaware that the woman he is looking at is the very one who wrote to him.
This is one of the most poignant moments in the chapter. Bloom moves from a cold, scientific view of the cosmos—the “gasballs” and “dead shells”—to the agonizing heat of his own memories. He is wrestling with the “I” of the past vs. the “I” of the present.
The Cosmic and the Personal
Bloom starts with a macro view: the birth and death of worlds.
* “Gas: then solid: then world…”: He describes the nebular hypothesis of planetary formation.
* “Pineapple rock”: This is a brilliant, grounded metaphor. He compares a frozen, dead planet to a hard piece of Dublin candy (pineapple rock).
* The Moon: The mention of the moon triggers a sensory memory of Molly. He remembers a walk by the River Tolka when they were first courting. The rhythm of his thoughts—Asking. Answer. Yes.—echoes the final famous words of the novel, but here it is tinged with the sadness of what has been lost.
Bob Doran and the “Annual Bend”
He spots Bob Doran, a character from Dubliners (“The Boarding House”).
* “Bottle shoulders”: A vivid description of Doran’s slumped, sloping physique.
* “Cherchez la femme”: (French: Look for the woman). Bloom assumes Doran is drinking because of a woman or a desire to escape his sober, judge-like life.
* The Empire: The Empire Palace Theatre (now the Olympia). Bloom’s memory drifts to Pat Kinsella and the old music hall days.
The Turning Point: Rudy
“Could never like it again after Rudy.”
This is the heart of Bloom’s grief. His son, Rudy, died only eleven days after birth. For Bloom, time is split into “Before Rudy” and “After Rudy.”
* Lombard Street West: Their old home. The move represented a failed attempt to start over.
* “Like holding water in your hand”: A perfect metaphor for the impossibility of retrieving the past.
* The Letter: He remembers the “naughty girl” (Martha Clifford) who wants to “sew on buttons” for him. He uses this flirtation as a shield against the crushing weight of his memories of Molly and his lost son.
Etymology & References
| Term / Name | Etymology / Context |
|—|—|
| La Maison Claire | A fashionable Dublin dressmaker/milliner shop on Grafton Street. |
| Whitbred | John Whitbred, a real-life theatre manager who took over the Queen’s Theatre in Dublin. |
| Dion Boucicault | A famous Irish playwright known for melodramas. Bloom remembers an actor imitating the “stage Irish” style. |
| The harp that once… | A parody of Thomas Moore’s “The Harp That Once Through Tara’s Halls.” Bloom cynically changes “sang through” to “starve us all,” linking national sentimentality to poverty. |
| Parboiled eyes | From “parboil” (partially boil). It describes the red, swollen, watery eyes of a chronic drinker like Pat Kinsella. |
Bloom is about to enter one of the most famous and visceral scenes in the book. He steps into the Burton Restaurant, and the transition from his delicate, “ethereal” memories of Molly to the “gross” reality of hungry men is jarring.
The Scene: The Burton
He enters and is immediately hit by the smell and the sight of men eating “like animals.”
> “Stink gripes his nostrils. Whiff of stale gobbets… Men, men, men. Perched on high stools by the bar, hats pushed back, at tables, calling for more bread no charge… Smells of grilled chops, steeped tea, thick gherkin soup.”
>
Analysis: Hunger as a Leveler
* The “Dirty” Reality: Bloom observes the “parboiled” faces and the “bolting” of food. To him, this isn’t dining; it’s a “trough.” It confirms his earlier nihilism: “No-one is anything.” When the stomach is empty, the “soul” disappears, replaced by the mechanical need to “stuff” the body.
* The “Slovenly” Men: He notices the “glistening” soup on beards and the “clatter” of cutlery. This physical disgust is what eventually drives him out of the Burton and toward the more refined (but still biological) Davy Byrne’s pub.
* The Connection to the Police: Just as he saw the police as “foodheated,” he sees these men as “cannibals.” He thinks: “Eat or be eaten. Kill! Kill!” This is the “Lestrygonian” theme of the chapter (the giant cannibals from Homer’s Odyssey).
Etymology & References
| Term | Etymology / Context |
|—|—|
| Gobbets | Etymology: From Old French gobet (a mouthful/piece). It refers to raw or half-chewed fragments of meat. Bloom uses it to describe the “stale” smell of the restaurant. |
| Lestrygonians | In the Odyssey, these were a tribe of man-eating giants. Joyce uses the “Burton” scene to show modern humans as metaphorical cannibals, consuming life to sustain their own. |
| Gherkin | Etymology: From early modern Dutch gurken. These small pickled cucumbers represent the sharp, acidic smells that Bloom finds overwhelming in the cramped space. |
In this passage, Bloom is people-watching in the street, using the sight of a drunk acquaintance to trigger memories of old Dublin theater life. He is contrasting the “fun” of the past with the sad, physical decay of the present.
Simple Breakdown
* The Sight of Bob Doran: Bloom sees Bob Doran (a character known for his drinking binges) walking ahead. He notices Doran’s “bottle shoulders”—sloping and hunched—and remembers being told Doran is on his “annual bend” (a yearly drinking spree).
* Why People Drink: Bloom muses that people drink either to find the courage to act, or because of a woman (“cherchez la femme”). He notes that Doran spends part of the year with “streetwalkers” in the slums (The Coombe) and the rest of the year acting like a respectable, “sober” citizen.
* The Theater Memory: Seeing Doran slip into a pub/theater (The Empire) reminds Bloom of Pat Kinsella, an old theater manager. He remembers a “drag” performance (Kinsella in a “poky bonnet” and “red pantaloons”) and the rowdy, laughing crowd of “drunkards” in the smoke-filled hall.
* The Harsh Reality: Bloom’s mind quickly snaps back to the present. He wonders what happened to Kinsella and assumes he’s now a “beggar somewhere.” He ends with a cynical twist on a famous Irish song, suggesting that the “Harp” (Ireland’s symbol) hasn’t fed the people, but starved them.
Key Terms & Etymology
| Term | Meaning & Context |
|—|—|
| Annual Bend | A scheduled, temporary period of heavy drinking. From the phrase “on a bender.” |
| Cherchez la femme | French for “look for the woman.” The idea that a woman is at the root of every man’s problem or behavior. |
| The Coombe | A historic, then-impoverished area of Dublin. Known in 1904 for its rough character and “streetwalkers.” |
| Broth of a boy | A traditional Irish idiom meaning a “fine, lively fellow.” Bloom uses it ironically here. |
| Harvestmoon face | A large, round, red face—likely from age or heavy drinking. |
| Pantaloons | Etymology: From the Italian character Pantalone. Originally tight trousers, here they refer to the baggy undergarments used in the stage comedy. |
In this scene, Bloom is remembering a pantomime or a “drag” performance from the old Dublin music hall days. Pat Kinsella was performing a “Dame” role—a traditional comedic character where a man dresses as a woman, often in an exaggerated, ridiculous fashion.
The “Poky Bonnet”
A bonnet was a common woman’s hat that tied under the chin.
* “Poky” refers to the style: it was small, narrow, and “poked” forward, often shading the face like a hood.
* The Humor: Seeing a man with a “harvestmoon face” (large, round, and red from drink) squeezed into a tiny, feminine, “poky” bonnet was a classic visual gag in Irish theater. It highlighted the absurdity of the character.
The “Red Pantaloons”
Pantaloons were a form of trousers, but in this theatrical context, they refer to long, ruffled undergarments (similar to bloomers or drawers).
* The “Three Purty Maids” Act: Kinsella was likely performing a parody of a popular song or dance.
* The Visual: When the “maids” (men in dresses) would dance or kick up their skirts, the audience would see the “long red pantaloons” underneath.
* The Effect: This was considered “coarse” humor—the kind of low-brow fun that “drunkards” in the theater would “guffaw” at while spluttering their drinks. Red was a particularly loud, scandalous color for undergarments at the time.
Why Bloom Remembers This
Bloom is contrasting this vivid, red, rowdy past with the grey, depressing present. He sees Bob Doran (who is currently drunk and sad) and it triggers a memory of a time when drinking was associated with theater, laughter, and Pat Kinsella’s “harvestmoon face.” Now, Pat is likely a “beggar somewhere,” and the “Three Purty Maids” have been replaced by the “parboiled eyes” of aging alcoholics.
This passage is a sensory bridge. Bloom moves from the painful, “water-in-the-hand” memory of his dead son, Rudy, through the high-end luxury of Grafton Street, and finally into the “stink” of the Burton.
It is a journey from the idealized woman (silk and perfume) to the animalistic man (meat and slush).
The “Poplin” and the Huguenots
As Bloom passes Brown Thomas (still a famous luxury store in Dublin), he sees a display of “bloodhued poplin.”
* Historical Fact: Poplin is a fabric made from a mix of silk and wool. It was brought to Ireland in the late 17th century by Huguenots (French Protestants fleeing religious persecution).
* The Opera: The “blood” color and the Huguenots trigger a memory of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s opera Les Huguenots. He hums the “Great Chorus” (La causa è santa!—The cause is holy!). It’s a bit of irony: a “holy” cause represented by “bloodhued” fabric.
The “Beef to the Heels”
Bloom’s critique of the “countrybred chawbacon” woman is a classic Irish insult.
* “Beef to the heels”: A slang term for someone with thick ankles (like a cow).
* Chawbacon: A derogatory term for a country bumpkin or a clumsy person.
* The Comparison: Even in his frustration with Molly, he compares other women to her. While the country woman is “clumsy,” Molly merely looks “out of plumb” (slightly off-balance, but still substantial and desirable).
The Sensory Overload
Before he enters the restaurant, Bloom is overwhelmed by a “warm human plumpness.”
* Agendath Netaim: This refers back to the advertisement for a Zionist plantation in Palestine he saw earlier. To him, it represents a “Wealth of the world”—exotic fruits, spice, and luxury.
* The Climax of Desire: The “perfume of embraces” and the imagined voices of lovers (“Kiss me, Reggy!”) build up a physical hunger that he mistakes for a need for food.
The Shock of the Burton
The transition is brutal. He expects a “warm human plumpness,” but instead:
> “Stink gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice, slush of greens. See the animals feed.”
>
The “perfumed bodies” of Grafton Street are replaced by the “stink” of men eating. In the Odyssey, this is the moment where the heroes realize they are in the land of the Lestrygonians (cannibals). For Bloom, the “shining” city of silk is built on this “slush” of biological consumption.
Etymology & Key Names
| Term / Name | Etymology / Context |
|—|—|
| Mercer | Etymology: From Latin merx (merchandise). A dealer in expensive fabrics, especially silk. |
| Poplin | Etymology: From the French papeline, originally a fabric made at Avignon (a papal town). |
| Huguenots | French Protestants. Their arrival transformed Dublin into a center for high-end textile weaving. |
| Junejulyaugseptember | A Joycean “mush” of words reflecting Bloom’s mental calculation of the time passing until Molly’s birthday (Sept 8). |
| Agendath Netaim | Hebrew for “Company of Planters.” It represents Bloom’s longing for a fertile “homeland” or a return to a state of plenty. |
Bloom is witnessing a scene of absolute carnal chaos. In the Homeric parallel, these are the Lestrygonians—the giants who devour men. To Bloom’s civilized eyes, these Dubliners have devolved into beasts, their humanity swallowed by the mechanical act of “bolting” food.
Etymology of “Galoptious”
This is a delightful bit of 19th-century slang that perfectly captures the “greedy joy” of eating.
* Origin: It is an arbitrary lengthening or a “slang expansion” of the word voluptuous.
* Formation: By blending the idea of something being “voluptuous” (sensually pleasing) with a sound reminiscent of “gulping” or “galloping,” it became galoptious (sometimes spelled goloptious).
* Meaning: It describes something delicious, scrumptious, or “splendidly tasty.”
* Context: Bloom uses it to imagine the “pagan” feast of King Cormac. If the King choked to death, Bloom reasons, at least the food must have been “galoptious” enough to make him lose his caution.
The “Pagan King” and the Choking Hazard
Bloom references a famous schoolroom poem, The Burial of King Cormac by Samuel Ferguson.
* The Legend: Cormac mac Airt was said to have turned away from the Druids toward Christianity. In revenge, the Druids cursed him, and he choked on a salmon bone at a feast.
* The Pun: Bloom jokes that Patrick “converted him,” but the King “couldn’t swallow it all”—a double meaning referring both to the food that killed him and the new religion he was trying to digest.
The Anatomy of Disgust
Bloom’s observations are almost clinical in their repulsion:
* “New set of microbes”: He mocks the “suetfaced” (pale, fatty-faced) man who thinks a napkin can truly clean a fork.
* “Halfmasticated gristle”: This is the ultimate “anti-perfume.” It counters the “silk and incense” of Grafton Street with the wet, toothless reality of “gums” failing to process meat.
* “See ourselves as others see us”: Bloom quotes Robert Burns. He is terrified by the thought that, when he is hungry, he might look just as monstrous to a bystander as these men look to him.
Dancing light of grace 