To say James Joyce is well-known novelist would be an understatement. As a key contributing member of the modernist avant-garde movement, Joyce’s writings challenged writing conventions, social norms and the politics of Ireland in the early 1900s. Ulysses, one of his most renowned works, incorporated many of these themes and was judged to be so “obscene” that it was even banned across a number English-speaking nations during the era. To get a better idea of how Joyce crafts his worlds and grants his characters realistic emotion, let’s examine the first episode from the book!
“If Ulysses isn’t fit to read, life isn’t fit to live.”
~ James Joyce
Don’t be surprised if you find yourself unable to understand what Joyce is writing about. Ulysses is the kind of book where you need to read and reread before things start falling into place. (There’s no shame in consulting a study guide either!)
Setting the scene
Most authors begin their books by describing the time or the environment. Not Joyce though, as he likes to begin each episode with very graphic descriptions. Here’s the opening of Part 1 – Episode 1 (titled “Telemachus”):
“Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:
—Introibo ad altare Dei.
Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:
—Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!
Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak.”
A large man shaving whilst wearing a discoloured night gown is our introduction to the world of Ulysses. While it’s not the most attractive picture out there, it’s one that is very genuine. This is Buck Mulligan’s home after all. Why wouldn’t he be dressed casually and doing something completely ordinary? From the first line, Joyce is already subverting reader expectations. Furthermore, take note that Buck and his roommate Stephen Dedalus lived not in an apartment or house – they lived in a Martello tower, a sort of squat turret by the coast that can house a naval gun for repelling invaders.
Ulysses has several protagonists, and although we meet the stately and plump Buck first, Stephen Dedalus is our protagonist. If you’re familiar with Joyce’s previous work A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, then you’ll also know that Stephen is a literary alter ego of himself. Once Stephen enters the scene, the episode takes on his perspective through a literary device called “stream of consciousness”. Given that he’s an aspiring poet, he has a very romantic and stylistic way of describing a scene. Consider how Stephen looks at the ocean outside his home:
“Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words shimmering on the dim tide.”
There is an abundance of imagery and metaphors that Joyce weaves into the scenery. He gives the waves feet so that they may travel. The froth of the waves a white breast of the sea, the clear waters a mirror – together, the two intersect like twining chords of a harp. It’s obvious that Stephen has a fondness for the beauty of the ocean… but did you notice that there’s something lacking in his description? Despite putting the ocean on a pedestal, he merely observes it. Not once does he yearn for the warm embrace of the waves or to feel its breezes.
Now compare how Stephen describes the environment to how he describes Buck below:
“He skipped off the gunrest and looked gravely at his watcher, gathering about his legs the loose folds of his gown. The plump shadowed face and sullen oval jowl recalled a prelate, patron of arts in the middle ages.”
Stephen is not as kind and loving to Buck as he was to the ocean. Rather, it feels like Stephen would rather be anywhere than here with Buck, doesn’t it? That’s because Joyce designed Stephen to be unsympathetic protagonist – a character who audiences (should) have trouble empathising with because he has distanced himself from the people around him. Is it not ironic that a man as sullen as Stephen has to live with someone as boisterous as Buck? You could almost say that the Martello tower, a building used for keeping away enemies, was also a prison that isolated Stephen from the outside world!
Tying in social and emotional dilemmas
Despite Stephen being the protagonist, he doesn’t show much emotion aside from gloominess. Buck on the other hand, shows a trove of emotions over the episode. While primarily goofy and witty, he also exhibits anger and discomfort when pressed. Consider the following argument between Buck and Stephen over a joke that Buck had made:
—You said, Stephen answered, O, it’s only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead.
A flush which made him seem younger and more engaging rose to Buck Mulligan’s cheek.
—Did I say that? he asked. Well? What harm is that? He shook his constraint from him nervously
—And what is death, he asked, your mother’s or yours or my own? You saw only your mother die. I see them pop off every day in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the dissecting room. It’s a beastly thing and nothing else. It simply doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t kneel down to pray for your mother on her deathbed when she asked you. Why? Because you have the cursed jesuit strain in you, only it’s injected the wrong way. To me it’s all a mockery and beastly. Her cerebral lobes are not functioning. She calls the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the quilt. Humour her till it’s over. You crossed her last wish in death and yet you sulk with me because I don’t whinge like some hired mute from Lalouette’s. Absurd! I suppose I did say it. I didn’t mean to offend the memory of your mother.
Although many novice writers treat emotions on a skin-deep level (eg. Stephen being upset solely because of his mother’s death), Joyce dives deeper into his character’s struggles to give their emotions authenticity. Despite Stephen being unsympathetic, we can still empathise with him because his problems are real. Perhaps this is why Joyce’s characters are so widely celebrated amongst the literary world.
It’s amazing how much we can learn about a character and their setting from just a handful of pages. Joyce combines stream of consciousness with colourful imagery to create a truly unique perspective. Although Stephen’s perspective of the world may be a little too descriptive for most everyday scenarios, we can dial it back! Let’s say we’re writing a short advertising piece on coffee:
The land of dreams brings both blessing and curse. From the pearly gates of our fondest desires to the hellish shackles of our greatest nightmares, where we visit each night is ultimately a roll of the dice. Neither just nor fair, certainty and rule are churned and forgotten in this realm – save for one binding law. As every dream must ebb and flow, so must it end. Whether awakened by peace or rudity, the veil between fantasy and reality sits like a boulder upon the mind. Seconds blur into minutes as we contemplate the once vivid scene. “What are you doing still in bed? You’ll be late for work,” nag spouse, family and itinerary. There is but one way to ground reality and put dream aside: coffee. Angels and demon alike hiss at the permeating miasma of the boiled black ichor – its intoxicating allure wrestling consciousness free from the corrupting tendrils of weariness. Soak in the blend. Take a sip. There’s work to be done.
Ulysses offers a wealth of insight into how Joyce explores genuine settings, relationships and tough choices through streams of consciousness. Be it Stephen’s grandiloquent prose or Buck’s sardonic wit, if emulating and applying their styles is what you’re after, either put in the time to read Joyce’s opus… or give your well-read local copywriters a call!