A Modern Odyssey

In the ambit of literature, there are inevitably works that cause quite an uproar upon their publication. They have become the subject of debates and, in some extreme cases, some were even censored. Some of the most controversial works of literature include Geroge Orwell’s 1984 (1949), Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses (1988), J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye (1951), Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar (1963), James Baldwin’s Go Tell it on the Mountain (1953), and more recently, Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code (2003). Each book tackled subjects and topics that are deemed controversial if not taboo by certain groups of people such as suicide, homosexuality, teenage angst, authoritarian regimes, and even contentious religious dogmas. In the case of The Satanic Verses, a fatwa was issued by Ruhollah Khomeini, Supreme Leader of Iran, against Rushdie, prompting him to live incognito for years.

Sex and illicit affairs are also sensitive and vulgar subjects that have raised the eyebrows of different sectors of society, even among literary circles. Novels like Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita (1955), D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1928), and Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer (1934) are just among the many titles that have elicited negative feedback. These works are considered heretical texts. While acts of heresy are generally frowned upon, they can also be seen as catalysts for instigating change and challenging long-established beliefs, conventions, and even social mores. Several of these controversial literary works would transcend all of these controversies to become some of the most influential works of fiction.

Another literary work that has attracted similar controversy and scrutiny upon its publication was James Joyce’s Ulysses. Joyce was no stranger to such critique as his short story collection, Dubliners, had to overcome the same level of derision before it finally got published in 1914, nearly a decade after Joyce submitted the initial manuscripts to publishers. Ulysses, on the other hand, was initially published from March 1918 to December 1920 in the United States as a series in the journal The Little Review before it was banned for further publication. Authorities deemed the series obscene. It was then published collectively as a single volume on February 2, 1922, Joyce’s fortieth birthday, by Sylvia Beach, the proprietor of the Paris bookstore Shakespeare and Company.

“His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. Why not endless till the farthest star? Darkly they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Me sits there with his augur’s rod of ash, in borrowed sandals, by day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in violet nigh walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. I throw this ended shadow from me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. Endless, would it be mine, form of my form? Who watches me here? Who ever anywhere will read these written words?”

~ James Joyce, Ulysses
Journeys and Encounters

Ulysses tracks the experiences of three central characters in Dublin over a single day, June 16, 1904; devout fans of Joyce now celebrate June 16 as Bloomsday. The novel drew inspiration from the adventures of Odysseus, the King of Ithaca, from Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey; the Latinized version of Odysseus was Ulysses, hence, the book’s title. The story opens with Stephen Dedalus, the main character of Joyce’s first published novel, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, being roused from his slumber at 8 AM by his boisterous and irreverent roommate, Malachi “Buck” Mulligan. Stephen, an aspiring writer, and Buck, a medical student, shared a lodging at the Martello Tower at Sandycove. However, the atmosphere at the Martello Tower was pregnant with tension.

22-year-old Stephen, who recently returned to Dublin from his studies in Paris, confronted Buck for his roommate’s distasteful remarks about Stephen’s recently deceased mother. This was exacerbated by the presence of Haines, an English student whom Buck invited to stay with them. Haines’ nighttime ravings from his dreams kept Stephen awake. The trio then prepared for the day and headed out to their respective but after Buck asked Stephen for the key to the tower and a loan. At 10 AM, Stephen was teaching a history class on the victories of Pyrrhus of Epirus at Mr. Deasy’s school for Protestant boys in the Dublin suburb of Dalkey. Stephen spent the remainder of his morning walking alone on Sandymount Strand while contemplating philosophical concepts and thinking critically about his family and younger self.

At this juncture, the story shifts abruptly as the readers are finally introduced to the modern representation of Ulysses, Leopold Bloom, a 38-year Dublin-born Jew of Hungarian ancestry who canvasses newspaper advertisements for a living. At the same time that Stephen woke up, Leopold Bloom was fixing breakfast for his wife Molly at their home at 7 Eccles Street. Along with the mail, Leopold delivered the breakfast to his wife who was still lounging on the bed. The couple has a daughter, Milly whose letter Leopold read. She informed her parents about her progress in the photography business in Mullingar. The story then moves forward tracking Leopold’s adventures and misadventures during the rest of the day.

For the characters, it was anything but an uneventful day; after all, the novel was inspired by a Greek epic. Leopold’s second order of business for the day took him to the post office at Westland Row where he collected a love letter from Martha Clifford addressed to a man named Henry Flower. He then rode a funeral carriage with Simon Dedalus (Stephen’s father), Martin Cunningham, and Jack Power on the way to the funeral of Paddy Dignam; they were among an eclectic cast of characters that Leopold, Stephen, and Molly would encounter throughout the day. Interestingly, the carriage passes by Stephen and Blazes Boylan, Molly’s concert manager whom Molly would meet later in the day. Earlier in the day, Stephen paid a visit to his school headmaster Garrett Deasy to collect his pay.

“It grieved him plaguily, he said, to see the nuptial couch defrauded of its dearest pledges: and to reflect upon so many agreeable females with rich jointures, a prey for the vilest bonzes, who hide their flambeau under a bushel in an uncongenial cloister or lose their womanly bloom in the embraces of some unaccountable muskin when they might multiply the inlets of happiness, sacrificing the inestimable jewel of their sex when a hundred pretty fellows were at hand to caress, this, he assured them, made his heart weep.”

~ James Joyce, Ulysses
Eclectic Cast of Characters

The story finds strength in its characters, their idiosyncrasies, and the individual concerns they have to contend with. Leopold, the book’s hero, loomed above the story. He is the modern Ulysses. However, there hovered an air of insularity. For a city that teemed with life, Dublin felt like a world away from Leopold. In a Dublin crowd comprised primarily of Roman Catholics, Leopold was an anomaly. Because of his religion, he experienced prejudice, even from his peers. He was also disrespected by his colleagues. But it was not only Leopold who was experiencing alienation. Stephen, who was the conduit for Odysseus’ son Telemachus, was experiencing the same. The opening scene at his lodging was a foreshadowing of the detachment between him and the world around him. As an aspiring writer, no one seems to be taking Stephen’s craft seriously. Those around him, however, had no scruples taking advantage of him.

The alienation the two main characters experience is not local to the greater society. It started at home. Following his mother’s demise, Stephen’s family sank into poverty and despair because of his irresponsible father, to Stephen’s utter dismay. There was also a chasm between father and son. Stephen was, in a way, searching for a father, mirroring Telemachus’ own search for Odysseus. Meanwhile, Leopold had his own troubles at home. In Episode 6, during the funeral of Paddy Dignam, he was still coming to terms with his father’s suicide. He also meditated on the death of his son, Rudy, who passed away when he was still an infant. While Stephen wanted a father, Leopold wanted to have a son but his fear of losing another son weighed heavily on him.

The untimely demise of Rudy placed a proverbial wedge between Leopold and Molly. Because of this, Molly sought the company of other men. It was through Molly that the aspect of sex was explored in the story. The novel’s realistic depiction of sex was one of the elements for which the novel was assailed by its critics. Literary pundits and casual readers found the subject it dealt with too vulgar for its time, hence, the obscenity trial in 1921 in the United States. In the story, Molly is depicted as a temptress. She has liberal ideas, with details of her sexual fantasies embedded into the story. She was sure of her sexual self, something her husband recognized as well. In the book’s final episode, we hear from Molly as she openly talks about sexual pleasure and fertility.

Leopold, however, was not an innocent party either. In Episode 13, we read about him masturbating on the public beach. He felt an ounce of regret for harassing other women. Compared to his peers, Joyce had a more open view of sex which came across in his magnum opus. This was a stark contrast to early 20th century Ireland’s conservative view of sex. Beyond sex, Joyce was more preoccupied with another element of the story: love. Love came in different forms, between a father and his departed son, between a wife and her husband, and between a son and his departed mother. Despite his own flaws, Leopold was the highest manifestation of love. The sympathy and understanding he extends to those beyond his circles, including animals and those who did him harm and malice. Leopold sees love as a unifying element and a means to heal wounds, even those of war.

“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.”

~ James Joyce, Ulysses
A Most Difficult and Intimidating Read

Ulysses has a reputation that precedes it. Many readers have tagged it as one of the most challenging reads of all time. It was bereft of a robust plot. The subjects it probed were complex and frowned upon. Beyond tackling abandonment, sexuality, and love, the novel also explored two staples in Joyce’s oeuvre: religion and the Irish identity. In Dubliners, the values of the Roman Catholic Church were cited as one of two key factors that held back Ireland from progress; in one of the discourses between Stephen and his friends, it was cited as one of Ireland’s masters. This was again underlined in Ulysses. The Church and its influences were still ubiquitous. However, the Church was significantly losing its stranglehold on Irish society in light of the corruption that overshadowed the Church and the inevitable modernization of Irish society.

It is also of note that both Leopold and Stephen are atheists although Leopold was raised as a Jewish. However, they also represented two different alternatives to religion. Stephen stood for art, creativity, and ideas. Meanwhile, Leopold was anchored on science and rationality. Another perspective vis-a-vis religion was provided by Molly. She had a more worldly view of existence, and, consequently, of religion. At one point, she expressed her vexation with people arguing about God and the human soul. For Molly, nature is the manifestation of the soul. Despite the extensive discourse on religion, Joyce was hardly pietistic. He was not advocating for a specific principle. Rather, he provided readers the liberty to examine these subjects and come up with their own ideas.

The literary journey also takes the readers across Dublin, with Joyce astutely guiding them to places such as the Post Office, Ormond Hotel, the National Library of Ireland, and the National Maternity Hospital. Details of residences, pubs, and even brothels provide a strong sense of place and time. Through the characters’ encounters across the city that commences in Sandycove to the South and closes on Howth Head to the North, Ulysses painted an elaborate portrait of Joyce’s Dublin. Astutely woven into this diverse geography was the subject of politics. Rising above the din were political discourses anchored on the lingering presence of England. Nationalists have been advocating for independence. Joyce, vocally pro-Irish independence, captured how British colonialism has stymied Ireland’s progress.

“It was a subject of regret and absurd as well on the face of it and no small blame to our vaunted society that the man in the street, when the system really needed toning up, for the matter of a couple of paltry pounds was debarred from seeing more of the world they lived in instead of being always and ever cooped up since my old stick-in-the-mud took me for a wife. After all, hang it, they had their eleven and more humdrum months of it and merited a radical change of venue after the grind of city life in the summertime for choice when dame Nature is at her spectacular best constituting nothing short of a new lease of life.”

~ James Joyce, Ulysses
Challenging Conventions

A further layer of challenge to reading Ulysses was Joyce’s refusal to conform to literary conventions. Ulysses is a multilayered novel with a distinct structure. This structure is one of its most interesting facets but it can also be one of its most polarizing. The novel was essentially divided into eighteen episodes which, on the surface, was nothing out of the ordinary. But as the complexity of subjects it grapples with has exemplified, there was nothing mundane or straightforward about Ulysses, including its structure. These eighteen episodes were individually unique, each narrated from different perspectives and by different voices. Interestingly, the original volume does not carry Homeric titles for the episodes although Joyce referred to them in his letters. These episode titles, e.g. Telemachus for Episode 1, were added in subsequent editions.

Apart from the polyphonic narrative, each episode was written using different literary techniques. It was yet another deviation from the standard narrative form although some episodes adapted standard historical prose. For instance, Episode 7 (Aeolus) was written using newspaper-style headlines. Rhetorical figures and devices also characterized this episode. Episode 15 (Circe), meanwhile, was written in a play form. With its alternating Episode 10 (Wandering Rocks) was a novel within a novel with alternating perspectives. Examined from a different vantage point, this aspect of the novel was a stroke of brilliance. Not only was Joyce challenging conventions but he was also alluding to how storytelling and writing take different forms and shapes. The possibilities of storytelling and writing are boundless.

If there was one literary technique that elevated the story it would be stream-of-consciousness. Ulysses contains some of the best examples of stream-of-consciousness in modern fiction. Coupled with interior monologues, this writing technique provides glimpses into the psychological profile of the characters. In making the readers inhabit the characters’ minds, more vivid portraits of the characters emerge. Joyce provided access to the characters’ unfiltered thoughts on the people they encounter and their memories. We learn about their concerns about the future and their idiosyncrasies. We also learn about their regrets, their heartbreaks, and the crosses they continue to bear. They became more human and more relatable.

“When, lo, there came about them all a great brightness and they beheld the chariot wherein He stood ascend to heaven. And they beheld Him in the chariot, clothed upon in the glory of the brightness, having raiment as of the sun, fair as the moon and terrible that for awe they durst not look upon Him. And there came a voice out of heaven, calling: Elijah! Elijah! And he answered with a main cry: Abba! Adonai! And they beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom Elijah, amid clouds of angels ascend to the glory of the brightness at an angle of fortyfive degrees over Donohoe’s in Little Green street like a shot off a shovel.”

~ James Joyce, Ulysses
A Personal Take

To say that Ulysses is a challenging read is an understatement. I started reading the novel in 2017, driven by my desire to read some of the world’s most revered titles. Ulysses, obviously, is widely regarded as one of the most important published texts in literary history. However, midway through the book, I had a challenging time making sense of the story. Despite eyeing the book for a couple of years, I had to put it down. I did promise that I would read the book later when I have matured as a reader. In retrospect, I was too eager to read the book. I didn’t realize that it was flagged by many readers as one of the most challenging books of all time. It even has some high-profile critics back in its heyday. Even the esteemed Virginia Woolf had an unfavorable view of the book.

Nevertheless, I finally achieved what I never thought I would achieve: completing Ulysses. Getting to point B from point A was no easy feat. In the interim between my first encounter with Ulysses and the second one, I read some of the most complex and challenging books like Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest, Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace, and Roberto Bolaño’s The Savage Detectives and 2666. Reading these books has provided me a different insight into the dynamics of storytelling and writing. These books push the boundaries of imagination and what storytelling can do and even achieve. There is a reason why these books transcended time, boundaries, and even criticism. They remain relevant in literary discourses.

On the subject of difficult novels, I was reminded of an essay about the value of reading difficult novels. The essay was written in light of Anna Burns’ Booker Prize win for her novel Milkman which was also a challenging read in its own right. These difficult books, as I have experienced, find value in challenging literary conventions. In challenging the norms, these books make the readers think critically. Sure, they can be daunting but they also provide a different level of pleasure that cannot be derived from the mainstream. However, these books are not for everyone. Most of the time, they are shelved as books that readers read just for the sake of saying that they were able to read them. Who can blame them when reading these books requires time and undivided attention?

I am glad I can now call myself one of those who were able to read Ulysses, and the original version to boot. I can boast I was able to finish one of the most challenging reads. But there is more to it than just being able to read Ulysses. There is so much to appreciate about the book. Reading the book was an Oddysey in itself that took readers to his Dublin, and consequently, Ireland, which was marred by the Church and England. With his brilliant characterization, he introduced three of the most memorable literary characters. All of the novel’s wonderful elements were woven together by Joyce’s innovative and, for its time, experimental writing. His nonconformance to literary conventions which flummoxed me the first time around was, I later on realized, a stroke of genius. Reading Ulysses showed me the wonders of literature, including the tumultuous portions in between.

“Not wholly for the smooth caress. For them too history was a tale like any other too often heard, their land a pawnshop. Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldam’s hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not been knifed to death. They are not to be thought away. Time has branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing that they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? Weave, weaver of the wind.”

~ James Joyce, Ulysses
Book Specs

Author: James Joyce
Publisher: Dover Publications, Inc.
Publishing Date: 2009 (1918-1920, 1922)
No. of Pages: 732
Genre: Literary, Postmodernism

Synopsis

Originally reviled as obscure and obscene, Joyce’s masterpiece now stands as one of the great literary achievement of the twentieth century. Loosely based on Homer’s Odyssey, the novel traces the paths of Leopold Bloom and other Dubliners through an ordinary summer day and night in 1904-a typical day, transformed by Joyce’s narrative powers into an epic celebration of life.

About the Author

To learn more about one of the most influential figures in modern Irish literature, James Joyce, click here.