In tracking various instances of storytelling and narration in episodes seven and eight, I was particularly drawn to instances where Bloom tells us stories about his relationship with Molly and gives us insight into the nature of their past together. Specifically in episode eight, such stories come about via Bloom’s vivid flashbacks to his past, and as he walks around Dublin a sort of “then vs. now” dichotomy develops between Bloom as he sees himself now and Bloom as he existed during the peak happiness of his relationship with Molly.
Over the course of episode eight it has become evident that Bloom is still somewhat infatuated with Molly – she constantly appears in his internal narration, and most interactions he has with people in real life remind him of Molly. Bloom thinks, “Lucky Molly got over hers lightly” (132) when thinking about Mrs. Purefoy’s pregnancies, he remembers that “Molly had the elephantgrey dress with the braided frogs” (127) that she wore to the races that happened “six years. Ten years ago” (127), he plans ahead for her birthday (138), and plans to buy her “silk petticoats” (147) to match her new garters. He says, “remember her laughing at the wind, her blizzard collar up. Corner of Harcourt road remember that gust. Brrfoo! Blew up her skirts and her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin …” (128), and we come to understand Bloom’s relationship with Molly as one that makes him inclined to fantasize about his own past.
These subtle references to Molly climax as Bloom sits and relives a love scene between himself and Molly in his mind and he explicitly defines “Me. And me now” (144), his “downcast eyes” at present contrasting with his “ravished” “wild” state in his memory with Molly. The love scene that he describes between himself and Molly is an extremely detailed sensory experience, and his retelling makes it evident to us as readers that the two of them once shared a very real connection that seems to have disintegrated over time. Passages such as these that embody Bloom’s longing for his past relationship make earlier passages, such as Bloom’s paused presence outside of Molly’s door, even more poignant.
Joyce manifests Bloom’s description of “me now” in moments where other individuals ask him how his wife is doing and Bloom gives only surface level responses. When Nosey Flynn asks him, “Wife well?” he only responds “quite well, thanks … “ (141) and then changes the subject to his sandwich – these guarded replies contrast starkly with the sensory experiences that Bloom relays to us in his own consciousness, the “me” he seems to feel represents his true self. But of course no narration can ever be straightforward, so Bloom posits, “I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I?” (137) and ultimately questioning whether or not the person he was during the peak of his relationship with Molly can actually be defined as “himself”.
Regardless, though, Molly’s constant presence in Bloom’s internal narration helps us track him as a character and better understand his various thought processes. Just like Joyce continually references “trams passing one another” (134) to give us a narrative constant and help us keep track of reality, he plants Molly in Bloom’s internal narrative to remind us of one fundamental aspect of Bloom’s personal narrative.
