Penelope
Odysseus's reunion with his wife Penelope takes up a good portion of the end of the Odyssey; she is satisfied that the man before her is indeed her husband when he reveals his knowledge of the unusual history of their marriage bed—one of the posts was a living tree that is still rooted in the ground. In Ulysses we have Molly Bloom's internal monologue from her bed; the parallel to the Odyssey is an ironic one, for, unlike Penelope, Molly's bed is secondhand and has had another man in it.
Molly Bloom is a well-drawn, complex and memorable character, and what is remarkable is that Joyce is able to present an unapologetic adulteress who is not simply a villain or the cliché of a woman swept away by her emotions. She recognizes her husband's good points, but she wants another man, and what is interesting is that she has no illusions about Boylan either; though he excites her, he is just a man, and so just as thickheaded and selfish as any other of his gender.
What was interesting reading the episode this time through is that I realized that in the past I had seen things that weren't really there; I had assumed that at heart Molly loved Bloom and that Boylan was a passing fling, but now I don't think that this is really the case. There is no remorse or impending reconciliation; Bloom exasperates her, Boylan is her lover, and there is nothing to suggest that that situation will change. There seems to be a hint of a reconciliation at the very end when she is carried away by the memory of Bloom's proposal of marriage, lying beneath the rhododendrons on the Hill of Howth, overcome by his words and by nature, until we learn that at the deciding moment she thought "as well him as another." It is a bit shocking that the book ends on such a cutting note, and yet it is their moment of union regardless, a sacred moment, "and yes I said yes I will yes."
Incidentally, the ambiguous passage from Ithaca that I mentioned previously is more or less explained in Penelope; the list of men that Bloom reels off were not infatuations of Molly's but rather her "suitors," men who were attracted to her.
Molly Bloom is a well-drawn, complex and memorable character, and what is remarkable is that Joyce is able to present an unapologetic adulteress who is not simply a villain or the cliché of a woman swept away by her emotions. She recognizes her husband's good points, but she wants another man, and what is interesting is that she has no illusions about Boylan either; though he excites her, he is just a man, and so just as thickheaded and selfish as any other of his gender.
What was interesting reading the episode this time through is that I realized that in the past I had seen things that weren't really there; I had assumed that at heart Molly loved Bloom and that Boylan was a passing fling, but now I don't think that this is really the case. There is no remorse or impending reconciliation; Bloom exasperates her, Boylan is her lover, and there is nothing to suggest that that situation will change. There seems to be a hint of a reconciliation at the very end when she is carried away by the memory of Bloom's proposal of marriage, lying beneath the rhododendrons on the Hill of Howth, overcome by his words and by nature, until we learn that at the deciding moment she thought "as well him as another." It is a bit shocking that the book ends on such a cutting note, and yet it is their moment of union regardless, a sacred moment, "and yes I said yes I will yes."
Incidentally, the ambiguous passage from Ithaca that I mentioned previously is more or less explained in Penelope; the list of men that Bloom reels off were not infatuations of Molly's but rather her "suitors," men who were attracted to her.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home