Today we completed episode 7 and started 8. Thus this week's blog posting will be in two parts. This, PART A, will deal with the concluding pages of the episode 7, whereas PART B will deal with the beginning of episode 8.
Last week, we had left Stephen and Professor MacHugh walking to the boosing shed (pub), Mooney's. They were followed by the editor, Myles Crawford and J.J. O'Molloy. Stephen was telling the professor about two Dublin vestals (elderly women), climbing up the Nelson's pillar. Bloom has rushed back - just as Odysseus is driven back to the island of Aeolus (Gifford 7.962) - after meeting with Keyes. His effort at catching the attention of the editor regarding the advertisement only elicits highly rude remarks from Myles Crawford.
The photo at left shows how the Nelson's pillar looked before it was blown up (photo at right) in 1966.
The editor tells J. J. O'Molloy that there is no way (Nulla Bona) that he can give him any money. Just as they catch up with MacHugh and Stephen, they hear Stephen telling the professor about the two ladies who sat on top of the pillar eating the brawn and bread and wiping their twenty fingers (4 hands x 5 fingers each!) Myles Crawford makes fun of the women saying, 'out for the waxies Dargel." (Dargel was a favored picnic spot of the rich. Waxies (= cobblers/shoemakers) Dargle is the picnic spot frequented by the poor.)
Stephen finishes his story and lets out a sudden loud young laugh. The professor, obviously impressed by Stephen, tells him that he reminds him of Antisthenes, the greek philosopher, who wrote the book, 'Of Helen and Penelope', which is believed to have been lost for over a thousand years. Hearing the name, Penelope, Stephen thinks of Penelope Rich, the Countess of Devonshire, known also as Shakespeare's Dark Lady.
They cross O'Connell street where tramcars of eight lines are standing motionless due to a short circuit ( a common enough occurrence in the early days of electrifying trams), with Stephen and the professor talking about the title to be given to the story. The professor comes up with a title in Latin, and Stephen suggests two alternatives alluding to the Bible. Looking at the statue, the professor recalls Stephen's referring Nelson as the onehanded adulterer, and remarks that it tickles him to which the newspaper man adds, 'Tickled the old ones too... if the God Almighty's truth was known.'
Thus Horatio Nelson (1758 - 1805) was the cynosure (center of attention) on this fair June day!
Last week, we had left Stephen and Professor MacHugh walking to the boosing shed (pub), Mooney's. They were followed by the editor, Myles Crawford and J.J. O'Molloy. Stephen was telling the professor about two Dublin vestals (elderly women), climbing up the Nelson's pillar. Bloom has rushed back - just as Odysseus is driven back to the island of Aeolus (Gifford 7.962) - after meeting with Keyes. His effort at catching the attention of the editor regarding the advertisement only elicits highly rude remarks from Myles Crawford.
The photo at left shows how the Nelson's pillar looked before it was blown up (photo at right) in 1966.
(Source: http://www.mixedmartialarts.com/thread/2359314/Forgotten-Architecture-Nelsons-Pillar-Pics/?pc=6)
Stephen finishes his story and lets out a sudden loud young laugh. The professor, obviously impressed by Stephen, tells him that he reminds him of Antisthenes, the greek philosopher, who wrote the book, 'Of Helen and Penelope', which is believed to have been lost for over a thousand years. Hearing the name, Penelope, Stephen thinks of Penelope Rich, the Countess of Devonshire, known also as Shakespeare's Dark Lady.
They cross O'Connell street where tramcars of eight lines are standing motionless due to a short circuit ( a common enough occurrence in the early days of electrifying trams), with Stephen and the professor talking about the title to be given to the story. The professor comes up with a title in Latin, and Stephen suggests two alternatives alluding to the Bible. Looking at the statue, the professor recalls Stephen's referring Nelson as the onehanded adulterer, and remarks that it tickles him to which the newspaper man adds, 'Tickled the old ones too... if the God Almighty's truth was known.'
Thus Horatio Nelson (1758 - 1805) was the cynosure (center of attention) on this fair June day!
(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horatio_Nelson,_1st_Viscount_Nelson)
