Today we completed reading Sirens, the 11th episode, the episode which is composed like a musical piece. The 'Sirens' here are Ormond hotel's barmaids, Mina Kennedy and Lydia Douce. They along with Simon Dedalus, Ben Dollard, and Father Cowley play apparently prominent roles in this episode. Bloom, the so lonely Bloom, plays a significant role too, even though not as loud a one as the others.
Last week we had left Ms. Douce occupied with the beerpull. On the piano in the bar, Father Cowley was accompanying Ben Dollard singing The Croppy Boy. (Links to the lyric and a recording are given in the previous post.) Bloom, after having paid his bill and two pence tip to deaf Pat, and after having written a reply - in the guise of answering an ad - to Martha, has got up to go. He wants to get out before the song ends. (Very sad thing.) Bloom is still thinking of Blazes Boylan, imagining how at that very time Boylan would perhaps be knocking ( ... a cock with a carra...) at the door of Eccles street 7.
Geneva barrack was a depot for army recruits in southeastern Ireland that was converted into a prison in 1798 for the confinement of rebels. (Gifford 11.1131). Miss Kennedy whispers the name of the singer to one of customers. He murmured that he knew the name.
In Ormond's bar, Dedalus and others are talking about Bloom and Molly. The blind stripling is walking, tapping his way with his stock. Bloom, walking along Ormond Quay Upper feels queasy stomach. Gassy thing that cider... A wee little wind piped eeee. He wishes that he had that medicine, the wonderworker, he had ordered. This naughty Henry is carrying a letter for Martha, and the book, sweets of sin for Molly. He is thinking of music, of musical instruments. Even Molly in her shift in Lombard street west, hair down, is like an instrument. He sees a frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat. He glances at the objects, including a gallant pictured hero, in Leonel Mark's antique saleshop window. Remembers the last words of Robert Emmet, an Irish patriot (late 18th century), who attempted to get Napoleon's assistance for an Irish uprising:
"Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dares now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth then and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done." (Gifford, 11.1275)
These sombre words are interspersed with the gas escaping from Bloom's stomach!
Now, after having completed reading the last lines of Sirens, it is time to go back to the first two pages, to the overture of the episode. Suddenly everything becomes quite clear indeed!
Next we move on to 'Cyclops', where we shall be meeting The Citizen.
Last week we had left Ms. Douce occupied with the beerpull. On the piano in the bar, Father Cowley was accompanying Ben Dollard singing The Croppy Boy. (Links to the lyric and a recording are given in the previous post.) Bloom, after having paid his bill and two pence tip to deaf Pat, and after having written a reply - in the guise of answering an ad - to Martha, has got up to go. He wants to get out before the song ends. (Very sad thing.) Bloom is still thinking of Blazes Boylan, imagining how at that very time Boylan would perhaps be knocking ( ... a cock with a carra...) at the door of Eccles street 7.
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| (FS in front of the door of Eccles street 7 at the James Joyce Center in Dublin) |
Perhaps Bloom wants to avoid thinking of Molly (Suppose she were the?---). So he decides to walk, walk, walk. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall Farrell, a real Dubliner! As he gets up to go, he feels the lemon soap that has become rather sticky in his pocket. (Must have sweated...)
Ben Dollard sings the last lines of The Croppy Boy:
At Geneva Barrack that young man died,
And at Passage they have his body laid.
Good people who live in peace and joy,
Breathe a pray'r and a tear for the Croppy Boy.
In Ormond's bar, Dedalus and others are talking about Bloom and Molly. The blind stripling is walking, tapping his way with his stock. Bloom, walking along Ormond Quay Upper feels queasy stomach. Gassy thing that cider... A wee little wind piped eeee. He wishes that he had that medicine, the wonderworker, he had ordered. This naughty Henry is carrying a letter for Martha, and the book, sweets of sin for Molly. He is thinking of music, of musical instruments. Even Molly in her shift in Lombard street west, hair down, is like an instrument. He sees a frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat. He glances at the objects, including a gallant pictured hero, in Leonel Mark's antique saleshop window. Remembers the last words of Robert Emmet, an Irish patriot (late 18th century), who attempted to get Napoleon's assistance for an Irish uprising:
"Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dares now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth then and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done." (Gifford, 11.1275)
These sombre words are interspersed with the gas escaping from Bloom's stomach!
I have. Pprrpffrrppffff. Done.
Now, after having completed reading the last lines of Sirens, it is time to go back to the first two pages, to the overture of the episode. Suddenly everything becomes quite clear indeed!
Next we move on to 'Cyclops', where we shall be meeting The Citizen.
