Ulysses Funmary # 9: Scylla & Charybdis

Ok– it is long past time for me to write this funmary, but admittedly I’ve been bogged down in the minutie of academia (not unlike our librarians here).  So, after far too much ado and many apologies, through the twin dangers we must sail.

Now, in The Odyssey, Odysseus knows what dangers await him.  He has advanced warning from Circe (remember her?) and chooses to lose a few crew members to the many-headed monster Scylla rather than to lose his entire ship to the whirlpool of Charybdis.  We see just an echo of this as Steven Daedalus sails cautiously into the librarian’s discussion: “A hesitating soul taking arms against a sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts” (184).  We also get our first hint of how heavily Shakespeare and Hamlet are going to feature.  Despite his hesitations, though, Stevie soon jumps into the argument with both feet (and several other body parts as well).

In fact, take a moment to Brush Up Your Shakespeare and your Hamlet, ladies and gentlemen.

Don’t we all feel better about things now?

Odysseus and his crew spend their time gawking at the revolving, churning, spewing, and generally attention-seeking Charybdis.  Meanwhile, Scylla sneaks up behind from her cliff and grabs up 9 of the sailors for a snack.  Our Joyce has pulled a similar trick with this section.  He has us all gaping agog as Stevie argues round and round about Shakespeare, Hamlet, Anne, and assorted other personages{few of Stevie’s arguments are new ones, and most are terribly outlandish, but doesn’t he describe them well!}, so we nearly fail to notice the crucial things happening in the background.

What exactly is happening behind the scenes, you ask?  Well…

I’m sensing a list coming on:

1. Our characters are all gathering: Stevie, Buck, and Leo are all together at the same time, and young Kinch has just been and gone.

2. We are finally getting to see Stevie away from the world that makes him so uncomfortable.  While firmly entrenched in his murky library, he feels like the master puppeteer– manipulating minds with his words.  It is only at the end of the section that he reemerges “into a shattering daylight of no thoughts” (215).

3. Stevie, though he claims not to believe in his own argument, is living proof of his own “ghosting” theories.  Having left Ireland as a young man, he has returned to its shores to act out his scenes without truely experiencing them.  He cannot connect with the world around him, and instead lives in foggy flashbacks of his mother, his father, and his regrets.

4. Though he feels most comfortable in their company, we get the distinct feeling that the librarians are mocking Stevie– winding him up and watching him go through his dance.

Yet, for all the foaming verbiage of this chapter, despite its hushed reading room setting, Our Hero (well… our boyo at any rate) navigates himself safely and ends the section in a peaceful place, free from any foreboding omens, and on his way to the nearest pub.

Up next… Our Namesake!

A “Lestrygonians” Preview and 13 Good Reasons

By JERRY GRIT

There are many reasons I’ve gone astray the last few weeks and haven’t been administering to full capacity. Here are 13 good ones…

1. I moved.
2. To a fixer-upper.
3. I got a metal shared in my eye.
4. It rusted.
5. It infected my eye.
6. I assembled these chairs.

They sort-of work, too.

7. I also painted them.

I mostly painted them.

8. My cat is an unrelenting attention magnet.

How could you resist this pussens?

9. I’ve been downturned by the Great American Downturn.
10. I’ve been working on upturning.
11. I’ve upturned.
12. I weeded this yard.

I haven’t weeded in a decade.

13. Hey, I freaking moved!

But this is all behind us…all but for the infection and the cat. I am now able to focus my sophomoric scholarship and feeble wit on the next episode in Ulysses, “Lestrygonians”!

If you remember from my fun summary of the relevant episode from The Odyssey, this was the apex of Odysseus’ douche-y-ness. Peeved because 2 crew members let the air out of the Aeolus bag, he basically sets up his entire fleet to be shish kabob’d by a bunch of giants.

Turning to Ulysses, we’ll be thinking about who gets (metaphorically) eaten. And get ready for Bloom’s erotic musings!

Much thanks to Brendan for ably taking on the “Aeolus” episode. Tweets start tomorrow!

ULYSSES Funmary #6: Hades

By KATIE ELSE

Okay, so Saturday turned into Sunday (which is rapidly turning into Monday…) But! we are done with Hades in all of it’s gloominess. The good news is, friends, that we are out of hell. One can only assume that it’s just going to be kittens and rainbows from here on out!

I hope I’m not wrong! Anywho, back to “Hades.” So much has come to light about Bloom throughout this chapter. First I’m going to touch on how it related to its Homeric parallel. There are many bridges you can draw between the two. First of all and most obvious are the four rivers and Odysseus and crew must cross on the way to Hades and the four rivers the Dubliners cross on their way to the cemetery. In “The Odyssey” they are the Archeron, Pyriphlegethon, Cocytos and Styx and in “Ulysses” there is the Dodder, Grand Canal, Liffey and Grand Canal.

Odysseus finds out from Theban Theiresias that  there are a pack of men at his house trying to get there grubby little hands on his stuff and his woman. Right as Bloom is thinking of just such a man, Blazes Boylen passes by. But, unlike Penelope, Molly has (allegedly) accepted his advances.

There are characters from the two chapters that (the internet tells me) directly correspond. But what I find more interesting is the way that the dead appear to both Odysseus and Bloom but in different ways. Down in the real Hades, the dead approach Oddyseus, drink from the pool of blood and address him directly. For Bloom, they appear in his mind. Memories of those who have gone before him are triggered by images on his ride through Dublin and when he contemplates the whole idea of cemeteries and burial. Odysseus’s mother comes to him in Hades and Bloom’s father comes to him in his thoughts. And while Odysseus inquires about what has become of his son, Bloom wonders what would have become of Rudy, had he lived.

Another idea that we know going into this chapter (well, if you looked it up like I did) is that the organ of choice is the heart. Bloom thinks of it repeatedly as a part of the bodies machinery, pumping blood throughout and when it stops, game over. That was how Paddy Dignam died. In fact, Cunningham just says that singular word as an explanation, “Heart”. But there was another fleeting reference to the heart in the way that it relates to Catholic Ireland in their devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

This brings us to another theme in the book that was really driven home in this chapter and that is Bloom’s alienation from those around him. The greatest factor in this is religion. He is surrounded by (supposedly) practicing Catholics. Not only is he non-practicing but he is ethnically Jewish. And even though his mother is Irish, it seems it is his otherness that people see. There doesn’t seem to be any malicious intent to exclude him, he just exists on a different plane. Death means something completely different to him than it does to the other men. He can not give nor accept the condolences that they do. And the whole action of this chapter, the ride to the cemetery and the perfunctory activities of the requiem mass and burial, are meaningless to him. He believes it is of no consequence to the dead because they have ceased to exist and it is of no consolation to him as one of the living. He is at complete odds with the culture of Ireland in this way. It is also against his nature as a pragmatist. Mush of the chapter is spent with him thinking about how this is all a waste of money, land and other resources and how it could be done in a way that is more beneficial to those who are left on the earth above.

This is not to say that he is not a compassionate individual, though. I think we see just the opposite in this chapter. He notices the people around him, be they the family of the deceased or the people they’re passing in the carriage, and empathizes with them. And even when his first reaction is judgemental, after a moment of reflection, he can be more compassionate. When Simon goes on his Mulligan-induced rant, Bloom initially sees him as loud and pompous. But he turns on a dime when he realizes that, had only Rudy lived, he would probably be just as protective.

So there it is folks. There’s more I could write and I’m sure there’s much I’ve missed. Please fill in my blanks and discuss below. For now, I will leave you with a classic from the band Styx, named after the aforementioned river on the way to Hades. I dare say our friends Odysseus and Bloom might have been singing a tune like this to themselves as they were passing through those glimmering gates, on their way out of the underworld.

NEXT: Sail away with Brendan (new contributor!) as he sets sail for Aeolus!

ULYSSES Funmary #4: Calypso

By LIZAANNE

All right, Folks, it’s time for another funmary!  Let’s hear it for Calypso!

The Calypso section serves as an introduction to Leopold Bloom, his family, his personal issues, and his role in the novel. 

In this chaper, Leo is the active character.  He’s the Energizer Bunny as he makes breakfast for himself, his wife, and the cat; goes to the butcher; gets the mail; defines a word for his wife; promises to return a library book; eats a kidney; reads a letter from his daughter; uses the outhouse; and throughout, he daydreams– particularly of lush gardens.  

Continuing with the Homeric parallels, the *Calypso* here is Molly Bloom.  She is still and quiet (except for her bedsprings).  She sits in her room as the queen bee at the center of her universe as Leopold buzzes busily around her.  Molly is the nymph of the title, holding Leopold to her; poor Leo is as effectively caught in a honey trap as Odysseus was.  The contrast, though, is that Leo is not desperate to leave [though he suspects her of cheating]. 

As Hermes arrives to Calypso’s island, so also several messages arrive to the Blooms, but unlike Zeus’s missive, these letters do not set Leopold free.  Instead, they tie him further to his family by reminding him of his and Molly’s daughter & their son. They also sour the honey a bit by reminding Leopold of Molly’s unfaithfulness.

Calypso gives us our first glimpse at Leopold in contrast to Stephen. To finish our funmary, let’s take a quick look at this awesome two-some: 

Stephen: is so over-educated that everything reminds him of a line of poetry; estranged from his father & uncle; Catholic; desperately single; poet who is teaching; booted out of his tower by roomate

Leopold: has trouble remembering history lessons and multiplication tables; strongly connected to wife & daughter; Jewish; married; salesman who is an aspiring writer; didn’t want to disturb wife in her room

Both: thinkers & daydreamers; have a dead family member & are both in mourning black; don’t practice their religion but are strongly influenced by it ; live on the edge of poverty; have no key to their homes 

Quite the pair.

ULYSSES pp. 60-65, “Calypso”

By LIZAANNE

Now that we’ve all had a chance to refuel (with our beverage of choice), time to get back on track with the next few pages of Calypso.  While the rest of the passengers are boarding, let’s take a few moments to review my tweets covering this section.  Pay careful attention, please, because Joyce loads us up with insight into Leopold and Molly Bloom over the course of these 6 pages:

60-LB buys sausage, avoiding eye contact w/ butcher; saunters back towards home, reading posters cut sheets adverting far-away farms; leads 2 daydream

61-recalls estranged friends; cloud brings dark thoughts of barren land & people; thinks of home & Molly 2 cheer up; @ home finds mail on mat

62-LB delivers postcard & letter 2 Molly in bed; moves dirty clothes; makes tea; cooks kidney; scans letter from daughter w/ fond memory

63-LB takes b-fast tray 2 Molly, sees she has opened letter; LB lavishly describes her body; letter is from her manager Boylan about concert

64-M asks L 2 define “metempsychosis” from her smutty book; he tries; he recalls day they met & how much he hates circuses; M wants new book

65-still explaining migration of souls; puts book in pocket; kidney burns; LB rescues it & eats alone in kitchen; thinks of daughter’s note

 Let me ‘splain– no, there is too much.  Let me sum up:

 1. Leo here follows the plan that he set out for himself earlier in the section, so we can see he is goal-oriented, which fits what we already know of him as a businessman.  He has his day planned out carefully.  So carefully, in fact, that he refuses to acknowledge any connection to the butcher (just as he previously only made small-talk with the store-keeper), lest it lead to something for which Leo is unprepared: “No: better not: another time” (60).  [side note– his reaction to Molly’s novel is certainly startling.  Who knew that Leo circus-o-phobic?]

2. Leo multi-tasks at home as he does the job of both husband and wife (cooking, tidying, bringing in the mail, organizing laundry, etc) because that slovenly, slug-a-bed Molly has yet to arise from her Spanish?, squeeky-springed mattress {as the astute Scooter Thomas noted, she is an excellent napper}; although she does awaken enough to gobble her breakfast and to clandestinely read the letter from her lover, Boylan.  

2a. As the first female character to be properly introduced in the novel, Madame Molly does not demand our sympathies.  Instead, she plays the part of the over-indulged and over-sexed nymphette to a tee (by having her tea and drinking it too, so to speak). 

2b. However, we do have her question about “metempsychosis” to thank for illuminating a central premise of this novel: the transference of Odysseus’s spirit into Leopold.  There’s also a nice little example for us pointing to Molly as a nymph.

3. Despite his domestic placidity, however, there are dark depths to our Irish Odysseus.  During his trip back home from the butcher’s, Leo is unexpectedly overcome by a wave of despair (interrupting another lovely daydream of ripening fruit in the Promised Land) when he sees a cloud pass over him–an example of pathetic fallacy in reverse.  This incident, although Leo dismisses it out of hand as “morning mouth” (61) clearly throws him off his stride.  It echoes Stephen’s previous imagery of barren lands and sexually-unproductive women, here with the added themes of the lost and abandoned Israelites throughout the world.  Leo’s feelings of loneliness and disconnection also match Odysseus’s emotions as he weeps at the shore of Calypso’s island. 

3. In another of his refreshing contrasts to Stephen, though, Leo does not wallow in his misery.  Thoughts of Molly lift him out of his funk and cheer him as he arrives home.  Thus, Leo manages to score two points up on our Stephen in that he successfully makes it back home without his key and he does it cheerfully [interestingly enough, Leo brings himself back by conjuring up pleasant sensory images– echoing the experiment Stephen was trying earlier]. OH– make that three points, Leo actually likes his family members and recalls them fondly, as evidenced by his brief flashback to when young Milly gave him the mustache cup for his birthday. 

Right, time for nibbles and questions.  Buy some sweets from the nice lady’s tray– mind the chocolate frogs. 

Questions for discussion:

–How many sexual innuendos did you count in these 6 pages?  The “tender gland” one doesn’t count as it is too easy. 

–What do you think was REALLY in that letter from young Master Boylan?

–Would you like to see the Blooms on an episode of “How Clean is Your House?”  Explain using details.

–Calculate the probability of the word “metempsychosis” appearing in an dirty novel about circuses to at least 10 decimal places.

Bonus points: 

 a. Jerry mentioned several posts ago that each section has its own color.  Can you identify the color for this section? 

b. Did you catch the cameo appearance of rosy-fingered Dawn?

ULYSSES p. 14-23, “Telemachus”

By JERRY GRIT

Seriously, these twreads are pretty awesome. I’m not missing a thing. You’re all suckers if you’re still reading the book.

• P14. BM patronizes milkmaid. SD’s sympathetic to her but resents her submissiveness. Haines (Brit) speaks Gaelic, but maid doesnt understand.
• P15. Haines guilts BM 2 pay milkmaid. BM underpays. Maid leaves. BM begs SD 2 bring money 4 drinks. BM 2 swim with Haines. SD doesn’t bathe.
• P16. SD quips agn. Haines wants 2 collect SD’s quips. BM tries 2 get SD 2 ask Haines 4 $. SD refuses. BM resigned, says SD needs 2 play them.
• P17. All get dressed 2 leave, SD takes cane & tower’s only key. All 3 walk together. Some tower talk. Haines asks 4 SD’s Hamlet theory.
• P18. BM makes fun of theory, SD lets him. Haines says tower recalls Elsinore, one-ups w/another theory. SD feels odd as the only 1 in black.
• P19. BM sings his own song about a joking Jesus, dances away. Haines laughs but says 2 SD he shouldn’t. Asks if SD a believer, SD rebuffs.
• P20. Haines criticizes personal god idea. SD says SD’s misunderstood. SD knows they want 2 take the key. SD says SDs servant 2 church&England.
• P21. SD’s esoteric thoughts about Church heresies, links thm 2 BM. Haines’ an antisemite. They watch boats. Mention Milly Bloom’s dirty? pic.
• P22. BM gets ready 2 swim w/another dude already in sea. Old dude jumps out of sea. Redheads are horny liars. BM says he’s Adam, asks 4 key.
• P23. SD gives BM key & money. BM extols theft & swims. Haines says theyll meet later. SD leaves knowing he’s been screwed & can’t come back.

So that brings us to the end of the “Telemachus” chapter. So far so good. 

Just a few more notes. I want to call attention to the subtle parallels to the Odyssey’s 1st books. We start with absent fathers (there are no dads here, but possibly for the old dude who pops out of the sea). There’s a milkmaid recalling Athena’s disguise, when she went to Telemachus to get him off his duff to find out about Odysseus. The maid shows up just as Stephen-Telemachus is usurped from his home, to begin his journey.

There are also a lot of references to the Irish Renaissance which was all the rage in turn-of-the-century Ireland (Yeats, Synge, and that crew), which meant to celebrate authentic Irish country folk (of the west, east was more cosmopolitan and British-influenced). The British rich guy Haines is there to collect Irish folklore and knows Gaelic. The old Irish lady is unfamiliar with Gaelic. It suggests Joyce’s dubiousness about this movement.

There are also references to what will be developed later: Stephen’s Hamlet theory, the “photo girl” picture of Milly Bloom (Leopold’s daughter), the drinking later that day.

My favorite word from this reading: dewsilky.

NEXT: Onward into “Nestor”! The “Telemachus” Funmary (huh?)

There’s still time to join the fun and recruit for more fun!

Odyssey Funmaries #18: Penelope (Book XXIII) **FINAL!**

By BROOKE JACKSON

As the first lady to contribute to Wandering Rocks, it is of course appropriate that I be the one funmarizing about our hero’s first lady, Penelope.

So as we know by now, back at the ranch, Penelope is on year 20 of same sh*t, different day. She has waited, weaved, unweaved, weaved again, unweaved again, wailed, whined, weaved some more and waited some more. I mean, it has been a really long freaking time.

Let’s put this in some perspective here: Remember Castaway? You know, Tom Hanks gets stuck on a tropical island, loses 140 pounds, learns how make fire and becomes BFF with a volleyball. All the while Helen Hunt keeps the search going for him, is told she’s crazy to think he’s still alive, holds a funeral, then finally gets over it and ‘lets him go.’ By the time Tom finally makes his odyssey back to Memphis, she’s married, has a new house, and even has a kid with the guy (a.k.a. “the suitor”). (But hey, at least she kept the car!) All this, in only FIVE YEARS, people. Five.

You can’t wait 5 years for this guy?

I guess when you look at it from this vantage, it’s not so difficult to understand that Penelope was in bed and depressed, deep in an Athena-induced-Vicodin-like sleep, when Odysseus came home. Penelope literally slept through the genocide of every Ithacan prince who has bothered her for the last two decades. Now they’re all heaped in a burning pile out back, and Odysseus is softscrubbing the whole bloody palace. And when her faithful, lifetime nurse comes upstairs to tell Penelope that her husband finally got home, Penelope gets ticked off that she was awoken from the best sleep she’s had in ages.

When she learns that the suitors have been slaughtered, she’s pretty excited, but she still refuses to believe that her husband has returned. It must be the gods, she explains to her loony nurse. But they still go downstairs to check out the scene.

Odysseus, long-enduring though he is, is probably pushing 50, which is no small thing given the life-expectancy back then (50 was the old 90). Plus, he still looks like a bum, smells like the doghouse, and just washed off gallons of blood with more gallons of household disinfectant and whatever he used to “purify” the castle. So, again, you can’t begrudge Penelope for being a little apprehensive.

Telly throws a hissy-fit that mom and dad aren’t getting along, so dad delegates him to take the wait-staff and throw a fake wedding party, to cover up the groans coming from the pile of mostly dead guys. I mean, we can’t have the neighbors talking. Better to have them first feel bad about not being invited to the wedding, and then have to hear it through the grapevine that the “party” was actually a mass murder.

So off they go, leaving the old lovers to chat. They go back and forth—half flirting and half fighting about who is more stubborn, and eventually Odysseus, master of tactics, simply threatens to go sleep in the guest room.

Of course, Penelope’s got a few tricks up her own sleeve. And they all involve the bed. (Cue sleazy porn music… now.) Penelope, calls the maid in, and asks her to move the bed out of the bridal chamber for their strange guest to sleep on.

Odysseus calls her bluff and proceeds to tell all about his mighty craftsmanship in building their unmovable tree-bed. An original, DIYer, Odysseus built the bedroom himself–around a big olive tree. But since left no room for a BED (hello!?), he chopped off the top of the tree, and carved a bed right into the trunk. Alright, it’s pretty cool, but it’s no treehouse:

Complete with tree-toilet!

He responds:

Woman—your words, they cut me to the core!

Who could move my bed? Impossible task,

Even for some skilled craftsman—unless a god

Came down in person, quick to lend a hand,

Lifted it out with ease and moved it elsewhere.

Not a man on earth, not even at peak strength,

Would find it easy to prise it up and shift it, no,

A great sign, a hallmark lies in its construction.

I know, I built it myself—no one else…

Ah yes, the great bed. This is an important symbol in our main attraction, Ulysses readers, so wake up, wipe the drool off your desk, and write this in your moleskine: Bed.

So Penelope finally believes that it is Odysseus after he spills the beans on the big tree-bed secret. And it MUST be him, since the gods can’t read blueprints, no one else could possibly know about this crazy bed that Odysseus, ever the talker, so mightily crafted. But I digress. They are happy, and eventually make their way to the big soft bed to “delight in each other.” But not before Odysseus tells Penelope that he’s going to have to leave again on a dangerous trip and kill a bunch of farm animals in order to apologize to Poseidon. If he does that, though, then they get a long, full life together.

Athena keeps it dark out (making this the Longest. Night. Ever.), and they make their way to bed, and now “rejoice in each other,” and then get caught up on the last twenty years, eventually falling asleep.

And great Odysseus told his wife of the pains

He had dealt out to other men and all the hardships

He’d endured himself—his story first to last—

And she listened on, enchanted…

Sleep never sealed her eyes till all was told.

Wandering Rocks starts Ulysses To-freaking-day!!!

Follow along in real time as Jerry tweets his way through page 1!

Starts at noon-ish!

Odyssey Funmaries #17: Ithaca (Books XVII-XX)

By MARK HOOBLER

 

For all of our 4 books to funmarized below, our hero, the wily Odysseus, Sacker of Cities & Goddesses, goes about incognito as a beggar. Why does he do this? Why not just run into his home, or castle, and shout that he is back? Why does he not run up to Penelope and plant a big wet one on her lips? It’s been 20 freakin’ years after all. Why delay even more? It was the German Homeric scholar, F.A. Wolf, who first identified this as Die Odysseusverkleidetalsobdachlosebettlerverzögernthema. [The Odysseus disguised as a homeless beggar delaying theme]*. This funmarizer read the whole of Wolf’s 1,300 page opus, Identity and Otherness in Homer in an attempt to get to the bottom of this narrative mystery, only to find this on the last page: “Here I can go no further. I have identified this theme in Homer: I leave it to those who shall come after me to explicate it.” Well. I am afraid I am going to have to be content to funmarize these books, and leave the analysis to others.

Let’s get on with it, shall we?

Book 17 opens with a funmary of its own! Telemachus leaves Odysseus with Eumaeus in the country and heads to the palace. (The suitors are hanging around the palace as usual, watching dvds, ordering pizzas, making crank calls, drinking milk right from the bottle in the fridge, etc.) When he gets there Penelope (“Mom”) has Telly funmarize his trip. He does a decent job, but he is no Ben Vore. (Luckily he makes no reference to Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey.)

Soon thereafter Eumaeus with the disguised Odysseus leave the country and head into town. They are not on the road long when Odysseus earns the ire of one of the suitors’ swineherds, Melanthius. (In addition to having really bad houseguest manners, the suitors and their swineherds do NOT like beggars; the next time Odysseus comes back to his homeland after a 20-year odyssey, I would advise him to disguise himself as a king, hell, maybe a god.) So Odysseus has to suffer these outrageous slings & arrows from this guy, and all the while we are thinking, ‘If this dope only knew who he was insulting! It’s King Odysseus, Most Wily of Men and Sacker of Cities!!’

We will get many more chances to think this same thought in the course of the next 4 books.

When Eumaeus and Odysseus reach the palace there is a heartfelt moment when Odysseus’ old dog Argos recognizes his master. Our hero must fight back a tear. Then the dog dies, foreshadowing the fate of every dog in Western Literature from here on in. Then it is time for the crazy Greek gods to meddle in human affairs yet again. Athena commands Odysseus to go around to all the suitors and ask for food to separate the wheat from the chaff. A real annoying suitor, Antinous, not only heaps abuse on Odysseus, but also heaves his wooden stool at Odysseus, whom it hits square in the back. You just know things are not going to end well for this Antinous guy. When Penelope hears of the abuse this beggar has suffered, she invites him to come speak to her. Odysseus-beggar has Eumaeus tell her he will come at night-fall when it is safer.

But first Antinous stirs up trouble between Odysseus and a real beggar, Arnaeus. He proposes a boxing match between them for a fat, sizzling goat sausage. Odysseus ‘belts up’ and the suitors notice he is stacked, cut like like a UFC fighter. No one seems to think this is strange. Odysseus dispatches the real beggar with one punch and gets the sausage.

Just give him the sausage.

Then Athena descends from the heavens to give Penelope a royal-makeover, a mani-pedi good enough for a queen. She inspires her with a plan, and Penelope goes to talk to the suitors. When they see her royal hotness, the suitors are entranced. Penelope tells them they need to start bringing her gifts. And so they do. After this, the suitors really party. You can almost hear the C&C Music Factory and smell the wine. Things get out-of-hand, there is more stool-tossing, and Telemachus shuts the party down, kicking everyone out (sort-of) except for Odysseus.

Telly and Odysseus use this opportunity to hide all the weapons in the palace. But lest we forget Odysseus-beggar has a date with Penelope. You would think, knowing this guy’s libido, he would toss off the costume and, er, announce himself, to his wife. You would be wrong. He goes through a whole charade, weaving a story for the weaver, of how he met Odysseus many years ago on his way to Troy. Penelope buys it. She then tells her maids to make a splendid bed for the beggar and bathe his feet. When she is washing his feet, Penelope’s maid recognizes Odysseus by a scar on his foot. She exclaims out loud that it is him, but once again Athena saves the day by making sure Penelope does not hear. Then Odysseus tells the maid if she tells anyone he will kill her. Oof. Bet she isn’t too glad he came home.

Now Penelope tells us something strange:

When night falls and the world lies lost in sleep
I take to my bed, my heart throbbing, about to break,
Anxieties, swarming, piercing – I may go mad…

Penelope has Restless Leg Syndrome!

Penelope tells Odysseus she is going to have a contest to win her hand in marriage; the suitor who can string O’s bow (not his oboe; many people do not know Odysseus was a world class oboe player) and shoot an arrow through 12 axe heads will win her hand, if not heart.

Not so much happens in the next book. Odysseus has some restless sleep. Penelope has some restless sleep. They both pray to the gods. Odysseus asks Zeus for a sign. Zeus sends him one (thunder & lightning; not very original for Zeus, but Odysseus buys it.). Odysseus-beggar goes to see his old stableman who comments that he looks a lot like Odysseus. We get another raucous feast with the suitors in which Odysseus-beggar gets a cow’s foot tossed at him, along with more verbal abuse.

Jeez! These suitors are real JERKS! Someone needs to teach them a lesson!

I wonder what will happen next…

Wandering Rocks starts Ulysses tomorrow!

Follow along in real time as Jerry tweets his way through page 1!

Starts at noon!

——

* = Wolf spent the rest of his life trying to establish this trope in other works of art but to little avail. In his twilight years Wolf claimed to have found it in several episodes of the OC on the WB, but he was mocked by his colleagues with a strain of vitriol that was excessive – even by German standards – and forced to recant. He was found dead at his desk in 1998 clutching a photograph of Misca Barton wearing a magic marker beard he had doodled in.

Odyssey Funmaries #11: Hades (Book XI)

By JERRY GRIT

I will efficiently deal with this book in the 3 parts. Part 3’s most relevant to Ulysses.

PART 1: The Trip Down

Odysseus continues the long version of his story to the Phaeacians … he attempts to cut it short, but one of them claims that, “The night’s still young, I’d say the night’s endless”[11.422]. We’ve all had to deal with that guy.

Odysseus and the remains of his crew follow Circe’s detailed and bizarre instructions to get to Hades, where they need to find Tiresias, the blind prophet who will tell him how to get home.

They need to board a “black craft” which will pilot itself to their destination (the Knight Rider of the Mediterranean?). Odysseus needs to find where the River of Fire and the River of Tears meet, make some animal sacrifices, dig a trench, and fill it with the animal blood.

He then has to guard this bloody trench and wait for Tiresias to show. Blood is like coffee to the spirits. It gets them perky and chatty.

PART 2: Tiresias’ Prophecy

Tiresias the prophet shows up, drinks the blood, and basically tell how the rest of the Odyssey will go.

He says that Odysseus and crew will get home if they practice self-restraint. They better not touch the Oxen of the Sun on Thrinacia Island. If they do, his men and ship will be destroyed.

Given the crew’s history with self-control, they’re doomed.

If Odysseus is able to escape, Tiresias, tells him of the troubles he will face at home with the slobs. Once Odysseus kills all the slobs, Tiresias says he’ll have to take an oar on a trip “to a race of people who know nothing of the sea.” Then he has to make a sacrifice. He then says Odysseus will grow old and die peacefully.

PART 3: The Parade of Dead

Hades is not exactly Hell, despite Mark Hoobler’s descriptions to the contrary. At least in the Odyssey, Homer doesn’t conceive of an afterlife with a heaven and hell.

But it’s definitely hellish. Hades is like a open-invitation liquor-less cocktail party, where the great and the not-so great mingle and mope. Life in antiquity must have been miserable already, without antibiotics or Twitter. And then, they only had to look forward to an eternal dry mixer with a bunch of Debbie-downers. How did these people get out of bed?

So Odysseus runs into a bunch of friends and family, and has an unrelentingly depressing series of conversations.

He sees his mom, who tells him she died from missing him. “Gee, thanks, Mom. I’ve only been lost for 10 years and killed my entire fleet, but now I’m also responsible for your death.” She also tells him his dad is still alive, but is wrapped up in rags, sleeping with his goats. Odysseus tries to hug her, but she’s bodiless, of course.

He then meets up with a bunch of famous women, basically mortals who hooked up with gods (the goomahs of the gods?).

There’s also a reunion of the Archaean Rat Pack. Agamemnon-Sinatra, who understandably has a touch of the old misogyny after getting betrayed by his wife, bitches about the undependability of women and warns that Odysseus should be very skeptical of Penelope.

So even your own wife–never indulge her too far.
Never reveal the whole truth, whatever you may know;
just tell her a part of it, be sure to hide the rest. [11.500-502]

Great advice. Who is this, Tom Leykus?

If you don’t know Tom Leykus, he’s a really, really awesome guy. 

There are also appearances by Achilles, who now is not so hot on honor anymore, preferring to be a living slave than staying any longer in Hades. Leykus must be getting to him.

There are also cameos from Ajax, Elpenor, Sisyphus, Hercules (who had yet to achieve his 13th labor).

They complain about their fate and beg for dirt on their living children.

Since he’s still living, Odysseus can leave this horrible party. He sneaks out.

Countdown to Bloomsday…

We read page 1 of Ulysses in 8 days!

Board our dark craft to Wandering Rocks!

Odyssey Funmaries #6: The Lotus Eaters (Book IX.I-LXX)

by BEN VORE

Those of you still reeling from yet another pastel color-coded schedule should take comfort in today’s assignment for The Lotus Eaters, an episode from The Odyssey which merits — wait for it — a whopping 25 lines. Thus, this funmary is going to have three primary objectives:

1. Detailed exploration of margin settings and font sizes so as to stretch this puppy out to a suitable length for completion.
2. Some recapping of what has transpired since butt-naked, brine-encrusted Odysseus got creative with an olive branch. 
3. Some actual thoughts about the Lotus Eaters (not to be confused with The Lotus Eaters).

First, though, let’s watch a cat play a keyboard!

 

Man, that’s brilliant. I mean, it looks as though the cat is actually playing the notes! And he’s wearing a cute little shirt too!

Ahem. On with the funmary, and a lightning-quick recap of what has taken place since Nausicaa brought Odysseus home to meet the parents:

Queen Arete and King Alcinous are such hospitable and generous hosts that they welcome Odysseus into their home without even asking who he is. (Had Homer opted to take the epic poem in a grislier, made-for TV thriller direction, Arete and Alcinous would have been the oblivious murder victims who pick up a hitchhiker carrying an axe and then, after making sure he’s comfortable in the back seat with food and drink, ask if they can sharpen the blade for him.) Odysseus gives them the woe-is-me-I’ve-been-bedding-up-with-nymphs speech and stuffs his face with their food. The next day he takes part in a pentathlon and then listens to a blind guy named Demodocus perform two songs, one of which is about the Trojan War and, specifically, Odysseus and Achilles. Scholars are divided on the form of these songs; more recent Homeric enthusiasts such as Robert Christgau contend that Demodocus was a prog rock enthusiast who used a timbral palette heavy on electronic keyboards and Moog synthesizers, and who changed time signatures as if his life depended on it. Still-anonymous Odysseus finally reveals himself once Demodocus starts crooning about the Trojan Horse, which leads to his recounting of how storms drove his crew off course to the land of the Lotus Eaters.

The Lotus Eaters were, essentially, addicts. They loved the sweet, narcotic taste of the lotus plants (described as “honey-sweet fruit” — I’m thinking something along the lines of a Honey Nut Cheerios fruit smoothee). Once Odysseus’s crew starts hanging around with the Lotus Eaters, they become fellow deadbeats. They

lost all desire to send a message back, much less return,

their only wish to linger there with the Lotus-eaters,

grazing on lotus, all memory of the journey home

dissolved forever. [9.107-110]

 

Odysseus rouses them from their complacent slumber and lashes them under the rowing benches so everyone can hightail it out of there. 

There are numerous parallels to lotus in pop culture down through the ages (think, for example, of Turkish Delight in The Chronicles of Narnia or soma in Brave New World). Medical researchers today are rather certain that Swedish Fish have the same chemical properties and lethargy-inducing effects as lotus, particularly when ingested by the box. 

So is this episode simply one big “Just Say No” ad campaign disguised in epic verse? The detrimental effects of the lotus start small by offering temporary relief from the daily grind (in the case of Odysseus’s crew, constant seastorms, occasional death and, unlike the captain, not-getting-any from nymph goddesses) but escalate by making a bed so comfortable and enticing one never wants to get out of it. The root temptation here is escapism. The lesson for those of us who 1) don’t care for the taste of lotus, and/or 2) have kicked or avoided altogether any crippling addictions to narcotics*, is that our lotus could be almost anything, even the most commonplace. The currently unemployed Jerry Grit’s lotus may very well be this blog.** Mine, in the course of writing this post, was spending an hour on YouTube researching Keyboard Cat. What is your lotus? All of us find our central ambitions derailed by the prospect of temporal, ignorant bliss. If we are not strong enough (or disciplined, obedient, wise or simply lucky enough), we can only hope our own Odysseus should lash us under the rowing bench as we stroke to safety. Or, as the case may be, into the path of a foul-tempered Cyclops.

Countdown to Bloomsday…

Don’t let lotus-eating interfere with YOUR central ambition!

We read page 1 of Ulysses in 13 days!

 

* = If you are considering developing a possible addiction to drugs of any sort, may we recommend you watch Darren Aronofsky’s Requiem For a Dream? Doing so would also enhance your critical understanding of the Lotus Eaters episode as a whole. Maybe make it a twinbill with Red Dawn!

** = PROSPECTIVE EMPLOYER: “So, according to your resume, you’ve been spending your recent stint of unemployment by — do I have this correct? — ‘forming an online reading collective for James Joyce’s Ulysses’? And this involves pornographic pictures of barely-clothed 80s wrestlers how, exactly?” JERRY GRIT: “Let me explain.” PROSPECTIVE EMPLOYER: “Oh, please do!”

Odyssey Funmaries … THE REVISED SCHEDULE!

A quarter of the way through, popularity for the funmaries is through the roof! And folks are hungry for a piece of the action. We are scheduled to have 4 new contributors to our fun review of Homer’s Odyssey in preparation for our reading of James Joyce’s Ulysses.

Tad, Mark Hoobler (deuce!), Andrew Sweeney, and Brooke (it’s a lady!) have all volunteered their reviews of key events in the Odyssey. Here’s the revised schedule with our new funmarizers, but with the same ridiculous color scheme! 

Write a funmary…

You won’t know how fun they are until you do!

———-

* = You can still write one of Ben or Jerry’s Funmaries. Just let us know! Jerry’s totally freaking out!

** = Don’t expect much here.

Odyssey Funmaries #5: Nausicaa (Book VI)

By JERRY GRIT

The events of this next book play out like an eighties sitcom.

Odysseus washes up on the Phaeacian shore after Poseidon tries to kill him with another storm. He’s also butt-naked, that’s how strong the storm was.

While Odysseus recovers on the shore, Athena goes to Nausicaa, the young daughter of the Phaeacian king, Alcinous. Athena is of course in disguise, this time as one of Nausicaa’s girlfriends. And as girlfriends do, she teases mercilessly. While Nausicaa is still in bed, disguised Athena makes fun of Nausicaa’s dirty laundry, and says she’ll never get married with linens like those.

Low blow, Athena. Taking advantage of adolescent gullibility and soiled linen-sensitivities.

This of course makes young Nausicaa really self-conscious and she begs her dad the next morning to go to the shore to wash up. She takes two friends.

While they’re washing, butt-naked, brine-encrusted, and starving Odysseus sees them. Classy guy that he is, he

crept out of the bushes,

Stripping off with his massive hands a leafy branch

from the tangled olive growth to shield his body,

hide is private parts. [6.139-143]

First, “private parts”? Is Big Bird translating this thing?

Second, for a man of reputed inventiveness, is a branch seriously the best this guy could do for clothes? Couldn’t weave a grass skirt, man of twists and turns?

The girls freak out and run, but for Nausicaa. She stands still b/c “Athena planted courage within her heart.” Whatever.

Odysseus lays it on thick with compliments, which must have been pretty sweet to hear, especially after getting an ear load about her linens. Although Odysseus has no such intentions, too focussed on survival and all, he unintentionally smites the little girl’s heart.

Thus smitten, she agrees to help Odysseus, giving him clothes and directions to dad King Alcinous’ palace. She said she would take him on her chariot, but what would the neighbors say?

The assistance Nausicaa provides Odysseus on the beach is paralleled in Ulysses, along with the dramatically different consciousnesses (i.e., old resourceful dude and impressionable sentimental girl).

Nausicaa directs him to enter the palace and grasp her mother’s knees and beg for help. I hope the queen’s sitting down!

Countdown to Bloomsday…

We read page 1 of Ulysses in 14 days!

If you think funmaries are fun,  just wait for the joy in Joyce!

Odyssey Funmaries #3: Proteus (Book IV)

By JERRY GRIT

Let me start this funmary by saying … and this probably doesn’t have much to do with our Ulysses reading (but a helluva more relevant than Ben’s Nestor, the Long-Eared Donkey reference) … that this Helen of Troy person is one piece of work.

This lady…yeesh.

Events proceed according to Athena’s most ridiculous plan ever (Athena, *not* the goddess of efficiency optimization).  Telemachus and Nestor’s son Pisistratus (who was probably itching to get away from the old windbag) arrive in Sparta to visit with Menelaus and *maybe* learn about Odysseus.

If we apply the Rat Pack schema to the Trojan War Archaean military leadership, it goes something like this…

Menelaus?

• Menelaus is like the Nat Benchley of the crew (dupe and historian) 
• Agamemnon is Sinatra (conniving and greasy pack leader)
• Achilles, Peter Lawford (whiney pretty boy)
• Odysseus, Humphrey Bogart (wit and PR guy) … or maybe Sammy Davis, Jr.? (clown, wily dancer)
• Ajax … Dean Martin … maybe? (self-destructive dope).  

Achilles, Agamemnon, Odysseus, and Ajax…Live at the Sands!

So Telemachus and Pisistratus show up at Menelaus’ palace while he’s hosting a double wedding feast for both his son “hardy” Megapenthes (quite a name)  and his daughter. And in ancient Greece, when you have uninvited guests, you’re pretty much expected to drop everything. Double wedding feast plans be damned.

The film reputedly inspired by the road trip Telemachus and Pisistratus take to the kingdom of Sparta.

So Telemachus and Pisistratus derail this double wedding, and instead of celebrating the the brides and grooms, Menelaus throws a dinner honoring the wedding crashers. Athena is still with them, and still dressed like a dude.

At the dinner, Helen comes prancing in from her “scented, lofty chamber.” This lady ran off with Orlando Bloom to Troy, which was used as a pretext to start the largest war in all antiquity, with countless lives, years, and resources wasted, and who is basically the reason Odysseus is stranded on some island with a horny nymph and Ithaca is without its king. 

How does she act, now that’s she back with Menelaus? 

Like a piece of work.

At first, she seems to show the appropriate shame for all the death and destruction, by denouncing herself  a “shameless whore.” But before they can really grasp the scope of loss she is responsible for (just as Pisistratus breaks down in tears while retelling the story of his brother’s death at Troy), she loads them all up on “magic to make us all forget our pains” (valium?). More appropriately, it’s magic to make them forget all the pains she caused.

With everyone strung out on valium, Helen tells everyone that at Troy she knew all about Odysseus’ horse trick, but decided not to tell the Trojans or her lover because, “my heart had changed by now…I yearned to sail back home again!” And then she blames Aphrodite for luring her out to Troy.

Whatever, lady.

And Menelaus, good sport that he is, seems to call her b.s. (well-acquainted with it as he must be by now), telling another story about how when the Archaeans were hiding in the wood horse after it was brought into Troy, Helen paraded around it calling their names out, putting at risk the entire mission.

What do you want, lady?

The night ends, the guests are oiled up and bedded.

The next dawn (which is invariably rose-red fingered I’m finding) Telemachus and Menelaus get some alone time. Telemachus asks if Menelaus knows anything about his dad (like does he really have to ask?). Here, Menelaus tells him the story of Proteus, which is of essential significance to Ulysses.

On the trip back from Troy, Menelaus says that his ship was stranded by a calm sea and everyone was starving (I’m sure old Helen was doing fine). They go onshore to a nearby rocky island Pharos, where Menelaus runs into, and starts complaining to, Eidothea, daughter of Proteus (some sort of sea God that sleeps with seals). She tells him if he’s able to hold down Proteus when he comes out of the sea (to go sleep with his seals), Proteus will tell him why he’s stranded and anything else he wants.

So Menelaus dresses like a seal and and gets the drop seal-loving Proteus.

Proteus begins turning into things: a lion, serpent, panther, torrent of water (huh?). Exhausted, Proteus finally gives in. (Note: The notions of a mutable identity and shape-shifting through time characterize chapter 3 in Ulysses.)  

Proteus starts spilling the beans on the post-Trojan War deaths of Ajax and Brian Cox…er, Agamemnon (i.e., the Clytemnestra fiasco), and tells him about Odysseus stranded with the nymph.

Doomed Agamemnon (Brian Cox) and cuckolded Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson) give each other face time in 2004’s “Troy” (which was not that bad, btw).

Proteus also tells Menelaus that his own future is secured. Since he has Helen now (who is a daughter of Zeus), the gods will make sure he lives on easy street. No wonder Menelaus puts up with Miss Thang. 

Telemachus is grateful for the story and announces he needs to get back to Ithaca. Menelaus gives him a bowl.

Back at Ithaca, the couch-surfing slobs realize Telemachus has been away. (Why this is a surprise after Telemachus announced that he was going away is further evidence of their doomed ineptitude.) They decide to get a ship together and kill him on his return. 

Penelope finds out and is worried. But Athena has the message delivered that Telemachus will be fine.

Are we allowed to feel any suspense reading this thing?

Countdown to Bloomsday…

We read page 1 of Ulysses in 16 days!

Be a good person and join Wandering Rocks!

Odyssey Funmaries #2: Nestor (Book III)

by BEN VORE

First off, let’s dispel some misconceptions that have been passed down through the ages concerning King Nestor:

• Though described (in the Fagles translation) as a “breaker of horses,” Nestor was not — as has been widely rumored — the Greek equivalent of Luca Brasi. (Consider.) “Breaker of horses” can be roughly translated as an accolade meaning “Marlboro man who engages in cowpunching and/or battle in a better fashion than all the others.” (I consulted David Stanley and Elaine Thatcher’s indispensable Cowboy Poets & Cowboy Poetry for this bit of scholarship.) In Richard Lattimore’s translation of Homer’s The Iliad, the final line of the poem is, “Such was their burial of Hektor, breaker of horses.” In summary, “breaker of horses” = the shit.
• The Greek Nestor was not the inspiration for the animated Christmas special “Nestor, the Long-Eared Donkey.” (Shelly Hines voiced Nestor.) The Greek Nestor did, however, have Spock-like ears which frequently drew the jibes of his junior high classmates.

• Finally, to find yet another way to bring up “Lost” as it may or may not relate to Wandering Rocks, the mythological Nestor is not in fact the inspiration for “Lost’s” Richard Alpert … but that character is played by the eyeliner-loving Nestor Carbonell! Possibly true fact: Carbonell was doomed to a forgotten Hollywood career until ear-reduction surgery made him palatable to behold with mortal eyes.

 

Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s cut to the chase: Nestor is a good-natured windbag. Nestor is basically that war veteran you had to interview for a fourth grade English assignment, the one where your teacher told you to pick someone from your church or community who had Valuable Life Experience and Wisdom to impart. Your parents knew Nestor from the nursing home where your grandmother stayed, so they arranged the interview. You went into it thinking, “This might be all right if this guy was in combat and is going to recount for me thrilling tales of heroism.” But once the interview begins, you realize that this whole assignment is merely an exercise better described as “Listening To Old People Ramble And Impart Unsolicited Advice” and could go on for as long as three hours. Because once Nestor has an audience, all he wants to do is talk it to death. (Lucky you!)

This is what garrulous Nestor does to poor Telemachus, who just wants to track down his dad. A simple “Go talk to Menelaus” from Nestor would have sufficed. Instead, he winds himself up with ominous, throat-clearing lines like, “Ah dear boy, since you call back such memories,” and “Gladly, my boy, I’ll tell you the story first to last.” In a bit of dramatic irony, Nestor tells Telemachus

“But so many things we suffered, past that count–

what mortal in this wide world could tell it all?

Not if you sat and probed his memory, five, six years,

delving for all the pains our brave Achaeans bore there.

Your patience would fray, you’d soon head for home…” [3.125-130]

 

Frayed patience, indeed. There are so many red flags in Nestor’s preambles that it’s hard to keep track. Nestor addressing Telemachus as “boy” (a sure sign that the elder has long-winded wisdom to impart); repeated acknowledgments of “such memories,” a black hole of nostalgia the hearer will soon vanish in; and Fagles translating Nestor’s first words with this preface: “Nestor the noble charioteer replied at length.” Indeed.

Telemachus is shrewd enough to know that flattering Nestor is better than saying, “Enough, old man, I’m out like the fat kid in dodgeball.” He eggs Nestor on with lines like, “Nestor excels all men for sense and justice/his knowledge of the world.” Like many old people who ramble on and on, though, Nestor works up an appetite and rewards Telemachus’s patience with a whole bunch of food. Say this much for Nestor: He knows hospitality. He invites Telemachus back to his “regal palace” and mixes a bowl of eleven-year-old wine (no Two Buck Chuck, these spirits). The next morning he gets his son Thrasymedes to chop up a heifer ( “the ax chopped/the neck tendons through,” translates Fagles), tells his youngest daughter Polycaste to rub Telemachus down with oil (awkward), then serves up prime cuts and more wine before giving Telemachus “a good full-maned team” of horses. So all-in-all he’s a pretty swell guy. You’d just better be comfortable once he starts talking.

Countdown to Bloomsday…

We read page 1 of Ulysses in 17 days!

Don’t get caught unawares!

Odyssey Funmaries #1: Telemachus (Books I-II)

By JERRY GRIT

So how does an epic poem begin? With an invocation to the muse, of course. The writer (or more properly, the singer) asks for the strength to tell the story of “the man of twists and turns”…i.e., Odysseus. I wonder how Ulysses will begin?

The singer catches us up on how things are. Things are crappy. After defeating Hector and conquering Troy with his Trojan horse trick (seriously, how do you fall for that one?), Odysseus is still not home since leaving Ithaca 20 years ago. The singer tells us King Odysseus’ crew is dead, he’s the only survivor, and he’s homesick on some  island, where the bewitching nymph Calypso spends all day trying to get in his draws.

On top of that, a bunch of freeloaders (calling themselves “suitors”) have overrun his palace in Ithaca, drinking and eating his wealth, threatening his kid Telemachus, and trying to sleep with his ever-faithful wife Penelope.

Also, the sea god Poseidon has it in for him. Because Odysseus blinded his one-eyed son (ha!). 

However, Poseidon is now “worlds away.” Which means, what, Saturn? Nope, Ethiopia, which is only like a couple hundred miles from Greece. Couldn’t Fagles have revised this thing to give us a more appropriately distant place…like Indiana?

With Poseidon away, Athena (Zeus’ sparkling-eyed daughter and goddess of wisdom, war, the arts, industry, justice, and skill…a real Type A goddess) recognizes an opportunity.  As the rest of the gods are complaining that mortals wrongfully blame them for miseries in the wake of the Clytemnestra fiasco, Athena tactfully points out Poseidon has been serving up a shit sandwich to Odysseus. The gods (recognizing an opportunity for damage control?) agree to support her helping out. Athena, also the goddess of PR? 

So she teleports Odysseus home to Ithaca and slaughters all the suitors.

Of course not. Instead, she goes to his son, Telemachus, in some gender-bending disguise (which doesn’t fool anymone) and encourages him to sail off to Pylos and Sparta where he *might* learn something about a dad that he doesn’t know.

Way to lend a hand, war god.

We also learn that Penelope has been successful putting off the suitors who are spend all day at her house, eating her food, drinking her wine, while trying to marry her (what kind of courtship is this?). She tells them she’ll marry whoever after she finishes sewing a shroud, which she begins everyday and secretly undoes everynight. She gets away with this FOR THREE YEARS. Holy moly, the detachable thumb trick would have these people on the floor.

No wonder Penelope is holding out for Odysseus. It’s been a lonely 2 decades, but that’s no reason to slum it with one of these numbskulls.

Telemachus announces his travel plans to an assembly of Ithaca elders, who are all pretty disgusted by what’s happening at Chez Odysseus. And they support him, but he still gets beef from the freeloaders. They demand if Telemachus is unsuccessful in finding any information, he has to give up his moms to one of the couch-surfing slobs.

And then (and I think this comes up in Ulysses), two eagles “wing to wingtip” fly over the assembled crowd and then start fighting each other. Old man Halitherses recognizes this as a symbol that Odysseus will be coming home and that he will kill the slobs.

The slobs respond, “flocks of birds go fluttering under the sun’s rays / not all are fraught with meaning” [2.204-205]…i.e., a cigar’s just a cigar…meaning they’ll die horrible deaths.

Telemachus once more announces his plans to leave. If he finds out that his dad is dead, he’ll give Odysseus the proper funeral rites and gives his mom away to one of the douchebags. If not, he’ll wait *another* year.  

Why does it take this guy 20 years and divine intervention to get the rocks to simply find out what happened to pops?  

Athena secretly puts together a crew and fully supplies a ship so Telemachus can sneak off to Pylos. Maybe she should have told Telemachus that it was going to be a secret trip before he announced it to the entire kingdom?

Great job, Athena.

Countdown to Bloomsday…

We read page 1 of Ulysses in 18 days.

Join THE FUN!

Odyssey Funmaries…THE SCHEDULE!

By JERRY GRIT

Tad’s comment yesterday made me realize that I needed to be clearer about what and when we’re funmarizing from the Odyssey.

As I mentioned, Joyce plays it pretty loose with the events he uses from the Odyssey to structure Ulysses. The events Joyce uses in Ulysses do not occur in the same order as they do in the Odyssey, although the 3 major sections are the same. He also uses multiple events from a single book in the Odyssey to frame entire chapters. If you’re not familiar with Ulysses, confusion may abound.

 So to help all those playing along at home, I’ve created this helpful and colorful fun schedule! Print it and keep it in your pocket!

*You are sincerely encouraged to contribute a funmary. Ben and I are already burning the candle at both ends here, and he’s totally freaking out. Pick one toward the end, let me know, and it’s all yours. Learn how fun a funmary can be!

 

**An event involving some Wandering Rocks does not occur in Odyssey. It’s only referred to. Not sure what’s going to happen here.

Odyssey Funmaries Begin THIS FRIDAY, May 28th!

We Read Page 1 of Ulysses on Tuesday, June 16th!

We’re Coming for You!

Ultimate Army: Nathan Jones and John Heidenreich (UPW – NJPW)

Odyssey Funmaries…THIS FRIDAY!

By JERRY GRIT

Ben Vore and I are hard at work practicing our body slams and drilling our analytical skills, to get ready for our countdown to Bloomsday…The Tag-Team Odyssey Funmaries! Super fun summaries of each of Odyssey’s 18 books Joyce uses to structure Ulysses…culminating in day 1 of our reading of Ulysses, when we read page 1 on June 16th, Bloomsday (we’re starting slow, so no worries).

Ben Vore and I look like this! 

The Dynamic Dudes: Johnny Aces and Shane Douglas (WCW)

We’ll begin posting Funmaries THIS FRIDAY. We’ll focus on only those 18 books (and the events therein) that Joyce uses to structure Ulysses (not all 24 books of the Odyssey). And we’ll post them in the order in which they appear in the Odyssey, not the order they occur in Ulysses, for the sake of those reading along. Joyce loosely uses the events in the Odyssey to structure his book, and he also plays it pretty loose with their order. For example, “Nausicaa” should come in 5th, after “Calypso”…but in Ulysses, it happens 13th.

Head spinning? Splash some cold water on your face!

If you have a chance to read the Odyssey before we begin Ulysses on June 16th, I strongly recommend you read along with us. Knowing the Odyssey won’t leave you completely clueless during the Ulysses, but it will deepen your experience. It helps to come to Ulysses with some outside knowledge, and the Odyssey is a key “knowledge piece.” 

For those following the stomach ache-inducing Eastern Conference Finals, think of it as a coping strategy. Here’s to Hedo Turkoglu getting a charybdis in his eye!

Odyssey Funmaries Begin THIS FRIDAY, May 28th!

We Read Page 1 of Ulysses on Tuesday, June 16th!

Brace Yourself for Rad Awesometimes!

Some Stuff To Know About Ulysses Before Reading It, Part 3: Ulysses and Music

“Lord knows what my prose means. In a word, it is pleasing to the ear…That is enough it seems to me”

–J.J.

This post focuses not so much on what you could know to help you read Ulysses, but more on how you could read it.

There will be a lot of seemingly impenetrable passages throughout the book. My suggestion: appreciate their sound, don’t try to understand their meaning. Although Joyce vowed he could justify the meaning of every single line in all his books, it’s very unwise for you to have he same expectation of understanding.

Instead, appreciate the sound.

And keep turning pages.

Some connections between Joyce, Ulysses and music.

• Joyce had a great voice. Like Stephen Dedalus, he was an exceptional tenor, had voice teachers, and toyed with the idea of going professional.
• Although Joyce has a modernist ambition to represent human consciousness, he still has that musician’s desire to make it pleasing to the ear. This makes a big difference. Check out Djuana Barnes’ Nightwood if you want modernism without music. Yech.
• There are songs throughout the Ulysses. Ben has promised to post his own recordings of each and every one.
• Joyce wrote using musical structures to structure the text. The “Sirens” chapter is structured is like a fugue. 
• Joyce identified Odysseus as an artist in that he is willing to put himself a great risk just to hear a tune. Here’s my favorite Joyce quote recorded in Ellman’s biography: 

The most beautiful, most human traits are contained in the “Odyssey”…Ulysses is a great musician: he wishes to and must listen; he has himself tied to the mast [in order to listen to the beautiful but destructive sirens’ song]. The motif of the artist, who will lay down his life, than renounce his interest.

So when you come across some Joycean muddle, don’t be disheartened. Step back. Read through it not to figure out what’s going on, but to simply appreciate the order of sounds. Whatever self-destruction you risk, preserve your interest…in finishing.

And keep turning them pages.

Odyssey Funmaries Start Thursday!

We Read Page 1 of Ulysses in 24 Days!

Announcing Odyssey Funmaries … BEGINNING MAY 29th!

By JERRY GRIT

In order to get AMPED for day 1 of our Ulysses reading project (launching in 26 days!) Ben Vore and I thought it would be pretty rad to reread Homer’s Odyssey (specifically, the Fagles translation). And while we’re rereading, we’ll blog about it! Sound cool?

Ben and I will tag-team write summaries, alternating authorship, focusing only on the 18 books Joyce used for each chapter of Ulysses. We’ll use Joyce’s chapters as the template and elucidate on those characters/events from The Odyssey that will frame our reading of Ulysses.

If all goes to plan, we will finish these summaries the day before we begin Ulysses on June 16th. It’ll be our countdown to Bloomsday! 

And I mean, it will literally be like an eighties-era WWF tag team writing these things…like two muscled mullet dudes in tight matching spandex underwear sitting down to a computer, trying to find something to say about antiquity’s greatest epic poem.

The Killer Bees: “Jumping” Jim Brunzell and B.Brian Blair (WWE)

“Jumping” Jim sez, “Odysseus is going to kick suitor ass!”

In order to lessen the burden the task, we’ve decided to focus on the more fun aspects of the Odyssey. So instead of lame plot summaries and banal commentary (where you can get anywhere in these internets), we’re giving you…that’s right…FUNmaries. We’ll be angling for laughs and joy, not insight!

If you would like to contribute a funmary or two, that would be awesome! But not as awesome as these guys…

The Midnight Rockers: Shawn Michaels and Marty Janetty (AWA)

Marty sez, “No one can beat the Toxic Telemachus Torso Flip!”   

Odyssey Funmaries Begin Next Thursday, May 28th Friday, May 29th!

We Read Page 1 of Ulysses on Tuesday, June 16th!

Join the team!

And check out this tag team gallery. Holy moly.

 

 

 

 

Some Stuff To Know About Ulysses Before Reading It, Part 1: Ulysses and the Odyssey

By JERRY GRIT

I may have oversystematized “Ulysses.”
–J.J. to Samuel Beckett

To help everyone who’s preparing to read Ulysses beginning on June 16th (and even for those few eager beavers who started early), I will tell you about stuff that might help. And I will do so with slick levity, utilizing my marketing career-honed bulletpoint skill, to ensure–respectively–fun and easy-reading.
 
I’ll contain my first set of bullets to Ulysses’ tangled relationship to the Odyssey. 
 
Caveat: I am no expert. So take my information with great suspicion, or lax scrutiny.

• The Odyssey takes place over years. Ulysses is just one day.
• The Odyssey follows Odysseus all over the Mediterreanean. Bloom just wanders through Dublin.  
• Leopold Bloom is a comic Odysseus. He’s an advertising salesman, not an exulted king/military leader. He can’t go home, not because a cyclops or a charybdis or a sea is in the way, but because he knows his wife (Molly Bloom) intends to boink a douchebag (Blazes Boylan). He’s also looked down upon by most his contacts because of their anti-semitism (Bloom is Jewish, furthering his identification with exiles…more on that later). And he has major paranoia and self-consciousness issues concerning his wife’s adultery and his own feelings of impotence. 
• Leopold Bloom is a real-deal Odysseus. Whatever laughs J.J. intended with Bloom’s homeric parallel, it also amplifies Bloom’s more tragic and heroic characteristics. Much like Odysseus, Bloom is also motivated by the same love of home. But unlike Odysseus, his wife is unfaithful, his child died very young. His return to a loving home is irrecoverably lost to him. He also displays similar heroic qualities such as presence-of-mind and paternal protectiveness, generosity.
•  The Odyssey is used to structure Ulysses. Although Joyce didn’t explicitly title his chapters based on the Odyssey, he did lay out the Odyssey-system in letters to various critics at the time (each chapter also has its own color, symbol, body organ, style, etc…we’ll get into that later…or not). Now it’s customary to see the book in three parts: Part 1. “The Telemachiad”–The first three chapters focusing mainly on the Telemachus-like character, Stephen Dedalus. Part 2. “The Odyssey”–The next 12 chapters (and the majority of the book) focusing mainly on Bloom’s wanderings, culminating in Bloom’s and Dedalus’ meeting in Dublin’s red-light district. Part 3. “The Nostos”–The last 3 chapters depicting Bloom’s homecoming and the infamous  “Penelope” chapter (an unpunctuated stream of Molly Bloom’s consciousness as she drifts to sleep).
• Homeric references recur throughout Ulysses, to both comic and dramatic effect. There are cameos from a cyclops, sirens, a Nausicaa-like hottie. If you have the Odyssey fresh in mind, you can have a pretty satisfying time picking out the subtle (and not s0) correspondences.  

I’ll probably add to this list. I just started rereading the Odyssey (this time, the Fagles edition!). 29 days before we start our voyage, just enough time to do your own reading of the Odyssey!