Episode 13 features some repeated allusions to the Virgin Mary, one of Catholicism’s most important figures and a principle symbol of divine maternity and pure femininity. Nausicaa seems to be offering blatant conflations of religious fervency and sexual arousal, paralleling Gerty’s beauty and sexuality with the Virgin Mary’s immaculacy.
The presences of the two women, one bodily and one spiritual, become influential forces that profoundly affect proximate male observers in both reverent and salacious ways. A particular juxtaposition I noticed can be made between the reverend John Hughes and his adherents and Leopold Bloom.  The Virgin Mary, being a paramount facet of the Catholic faith, inspires utmost incitement in a devout sense among the clergy members, “still the voices sang in supplication to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most beautiful” (303-304). Similarly, Bloom experiences stimulation, however, in an explicitly more sexual expression, “O! in raptures and it gushed out of it a stream of rain gold hair threads” (738-739).

Later in the Episode, Bloom has a contemplative moment that encapsulates the intersection of religion and sex, “Girl friends at school, arms round each other’s necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the convent garden. Nuns with whitewashed faces…their rosaries going up and down” (809-812). What are the implications of Joyce’s experimentation with combining religiosity and sexuality? Regardless of whether or not its outward appearance is divine or comely, Joyce seems to be conveying femininity as an inexorably sexual power over men.

There are 4 particular definitions of mass that I believe are especially important to note. (Sorry this is coming in a little later.)

1. Mass has a primary usage regarding the celebration of the Eucharist during a Roman Catholic service.
   1.  The Eucharist, esp. (in post-Reformation use) as understood and celebrated in the Roman Catholic Church.In the 16th cent. many Protestants objected to the term as unscriptural, and as being associated with the ‘popish’ view of the nature of the sacrament. The German liturgy formulated by Martin Luther in 1526 was, however, called the Deutsche Messe, and Swedish mässa and Danish messe are applied to the Lutheran rite. In the first Book of Common Prayer of Edward VI (1548–9) the heading of the service reads ‘The Holy Communion, commonly called the Masse’, but in the subsequent Prayer Books the word was not used.
2. Mass also relates to the bodily form or just objects with density in general.
   1. A body of matter, and related senses.
      1. A dense aggregation of objects having the appearance of a single, continuous body.
   2. A coherent body of matter of unspecified or indeterminate shape, and usually of relatively large bulk; a solid and distinct object occupying space.
3. Mass has also historically been utilized as a verb denoting the actual celebration.
   1. To celebrate mass; to say or sing mass.
      1. To hear or attend mass.
4. Akin to the object definition, mass can be used as a verb denoting collection.
   1. To form or gather into a mass; to collect, arrange, or bring together in masses; to amass.

      All definitions were gathered from the OED.

Throughout Ulysses, we are exposed to Joyce’s subtle conceptions and criticisms of religion. Episode 9 features an intriguing conflation of religiosity and Shakespearean discussion. Early in the episode, the writing of Hamlet is considered by the men to be a force that brings their “minds into contact with the eternal wisdom” (52, 152). Immediately, Shakespeare’s literature is depicted as something divine, Shakespeare being an exalted progenitor of sorts.

However, as the episode progresses, the topic of fatherhood is broached and Stephen offers some particularly scathing words, “A father…is a necessary evil” (828, 170). Going further, Stephen makes the claim, “Paternity may be a legal fiction. Who is the father of any son that any son should love him or he any son?” (844-845, 170). Essentially, Stephen argues that fathers and sons don’t have the physical and emotional bonds that a mother and a son would have. They two masculine figures exist to be in tacit conflict with one another, one waning, and one taking the other’s place.

From past class discussions regarding the history of Ulysses publication, we know that Stephen was viewed as a sort of literary alter ego of Joyce. If Stephen is perceived as a written representation of Joyce, and if Shakespeare is described as a father of English writing, do you think Joyce is to some degree challenging the paternalistic legacy of Shakespeare? Do you think Joyce is using Ulysses to make a claim of ascendency, experimental modernist prose finding its place in the wake of the classical verses of Hamlet?

Considering my obsession relates to religion, particularly Catholicism, I’m very interested in investigating Joyce’s utilization of “cross.” Obviously, this word has major resonance with Catholicism due to the Crucifixion of Christ being a paramount theological moment. In fact, the Catholic Church considers the Crucifixion and subsequent Resurrection the two most important moments in Christianity. However, in Ulysses, the eminence of the Cross seems complicated. For example, Bloom observes the mass he notices letters on the priest’s back, “I.N.R.I? No” (5, 372). However, his sight is wrong and he casually disregards the phrase “King of the Jews” that was carved over Jesus’ head as he was crucified, words that hold high significance in the Catholic tradition, words that should not easily be mixed up.

I’m also intrigued by the usage of “cross” as a verb. Mulligan’s cutting accusation against Dedalus stands as a particularly glaring application of this, “You crossed her last wish in death and yet you sulk with me because I don’t whinge like some hired mute” (1, 212-213). As I look into my obsession, the acts, performances, and rituals, of Catholicism stand out in Joyce’s writing. Joyce manipulates words related to these religious practices in very compelling and inciting ways. Perhaps “crossing” and/or the physical action of the Sign of the Cross will continue to meaningfully impact the forthcoming episodes.

The words “crown” and “mass” also stood out as pertinent due to their Christian connotations. The allusion to I.N.R.I and Bloom’s contemplation during the Catholic service convey that those two words do purposely intersect with the plot. However, unlike “cross,” they don’t have the verb usage that I find so insistently promising in its subtle, yet dramatic utilization.

Being set in Dublin, Ulysses is inextricably intertwined with the Roman Catholic Church, the predominant religious institution of Ireland. Catholicism, particularly the ritualistic behaviors of its prayers and gatherings, has a pronounced visibility within the plot.

Joyce’s depictions of the religion first began to glare at me during “Proteus.”

“Cousin Stephen, you will never be a saint. Isle of saints. You were awfully holy, weren’t you? You prayed to the Blessed Virgin that you might not have a red nose” (3, 128-130). This cutting condemnation of Stephen’s prayer stands as an encapsulation of many more of Joyce’s forthcoming descriptions of Catholicism. Often, Joyce focuses in on the ritual and performance of the religion. However, upon inspection of the images, these religious acts come off as empty, hopeless, and disingenuous.

“The Lotus Eaters” contains a lengthy illustration of a Catholic mass. The hollow performance of the event especially stands out as the priest feeds some of the churchgoers the host, “Good idea the Latin. Stupfies them first. Hospice for the dying. They don’t seem to chew it: only swallow it down. Rum idea eating bits of a corpse” (5, 350-352).

We have previously discussed in class various ways Joyce has critiqued Irish culture and politics. Religion has been only hinted at, but considering Catholicism’s large presence in Ireland, it seems essential that it too would be scrutinized by Joyce.

Prior passages in Ulysses have indicated that England, the Irish government, and The Catholic Church stand as an imposing trinity upon the plot. While Joyce has specific qualms with all of these authorities, he seems to be presenting the formalities of Catholicism to be distinctly onerous and destitute.

Hello All,

The editorial history of Joyce’s writing is absolutely fascinating. I do not have a background with Ulysses, so learning how the work was conceived and subsequently put together during the 20th Century is particularly intriguing.

According to Mahaffey, “editing seeks to produce a kind of literary monument” (239). This assertion stood out to me because I believe it aligns with Pound’s intentions while working with Joyce.

Based on Mullin’s historical detailing of Joyce’s transitions through the various modernist publications that distributed his literature, it is apparent that Pound held Ulysses in a high regard and aimed to advance its literary merit through close scrutiny.

I think it is utterly compelling that we all get to view Joyce’s work in its the Little Review form. We are allowed to see the literary monument that is the artistic intersection of two of the greatest writers in history. I want to look at the closing scene of “Calypso.” Mullin’s article informed that Pound paid special attention to that part of Ulysses and I would love to personally witness the final product of their collaboration.

Hello Everyone,

Last class, I posited that “Ive Day” conveys various images and conversations of irresolute nationalism.  My initial reading of the short story focused solely on the post-Parnellite nationalist perception.

Andrew Gibson’s critique of “Ivy Day” pushes against my primary analysis by proffering the influence of another political ideology on Joyce’s rhetoric, specifically that of James Conolly’s Marxist nationalism.

Gibson calls to mind an intriguing aspect of Connolly’s criticism of the Irish socioeconomic system and its intersections with the political realm, “Connolly’s analysis of the influence of drink and the drink industry in Irish politics, and specifically its use to bribe electors and election workers, appears to have influenced ‘Ivy Day'” (Gibson 268). Gibson further elaborates upon Connolly’s presence in Joyce’s writing, claiming that while Connolly is not a central figure in the story, his political theories still help to frame the events.

Personally, I’m not so sure that I agree with Gibson’s statement that in “Ivy Day,” Connolly is “more intellectual than real” (268).

When the men become thirsty, they note that the stout Tierney has promised them has yet to be delivered. Eventually the drinks arrive and Mr. Henchy, despite prior disgruntlement, accepts Tierney as “not so bad after all.” The more right leaning nationalist is not perfect, but still suitable, right?

Now that Gibson has introduced another ideologue into the discourse, what do you think of Connolly’s ideals and presence? How does a reading of “Ive Day” change once we acknowledge the influence of more than one political ideology?

I do not think it is necessary for Connolly’s name to be directly addressed by Joyce for him to be a central figure. My first analysis of “Ivy Day” concluded with the belief that Joyce devised characters who longed for the return of a Parnell-esque leader.  Understanding some of Connolly’s ideology, do you think that Joyce is somehow trying to complicate the nationalist legacy of Parnell?