Ithaca as Resolution and Access to Eternity

In the second half of Ulysses, we are treated to a wide variety of

literary styles and experimentations. A naive reader might be utterly baffled
by the repeated shifts and style, but those who are familiar with the criticism
on Joyce acknowledge that he altered the language not arbitrarily, but as a
reflection of the internal life of the character's minds. In the first half of the
novel, the language is meant to reflect as nearly as possible the internal
monologue of Stephan and Bloom, to the point where narration, dialogue,
and thought are made utterly indistinct, bumping up against each other as a
fluid collection of words. However, through the second half of the novel, it is
clear that our perspective grows gradually, being handed off to omniscient
narrators, or other quirky "characters". This starts with "Wandering Rocks", in
which we follow several Dubliners on their paths through life, no longer
limited to Stephen and Bloom. In "Sirens", we receive knowledge of acts that
Bloom is unaware of - namely Douce and Kennedy's mockery of him and
Boylan's intercourse with Molly. In the next two sections, we are fully
deposited in the perspective of other Dubliners distinct from Bloom - the
nameless narrator of "Cyclops" and Gerty McDowell. In "Eumaeus", we are
treated to a third person narration by a deliberately tedious and incompetent
author. So it is clear that while the style has some sort of correspondence
with the mental state of the characters, it is obviously not a literal translation
of the contents of their mind.
In most of the experimental chapters, however, we can come to a fairly
obvious conclusion as to the relationship between the literary style and the
events of the chapter. "Sirens" is musical because it takes place in a bar
where people are singing, and also because the music is related to the sex
act between Molly and Boylan. "Cyclops" is written from the perspective of a
kind of nasty Dubliner because the primary event is Bloom's encounter with
that type of person. "Oxen of the Sun", taking place in a maternity ward,
gives birth to the English language. "Eumaeus" is long-winded and rambling
to imitate the exhaustion of the characters. But what do we make of
"Ithaca"? This chapter is perhaps one of the ones that is most highly defined
by its style - it is the only one that is totally divorced from the usual
conventions of the novel as narrating a series of linear events. It is also the
grand finale of the novel - Penelope is an epilogue. So it is clear that this
chapter is significant. And it is clear that the style used must be very
purposeful and not arbitrarily chosen. However it is not necessarily
immediately obvious what the events - a homecoming, a final union between
Stephen and Bloom - have to do with a Q&A format. This paper will argue
that in Ithaca, through language alone, a satisfying resolution is created in
which Bloom's "passport to eternity", as Joyce calls it, becomes clear.
Ulysses can be described as a massive novel in which nothing
happens. The entirety of the action takes place in one totally normal day. The

central conflict of the book - Molly's affair with Boylan - is essentially a nonconflict. Bloom is aware during the entire course of the novel of Molly's
infidelity, and the entire time he does nothing about it. Beginning, middle,
and end, he is in the exact same situation - nothing changes. The secondary
plot is the union of Bloom and Stephen as father and son figures. While this
is eventually fulfilled, their initial meeting in "Eumaeus" is said to be slightly
disappointing, as there seems to be a huge gap in their communications due
to Stephen's somewhat obnoxious and inebriated state. (Interestingly, both
these themes are very quiet and understated in the confusing mass of
language that is Ulysses. One can easily imagine a naive reader getting to
"Ithaca" without picking up on the fact that Molly has been unfaithful, or that
Stephen is meant to be Bloom's adopted son. It almost seems more likely
than the reverse.) So, the natural question is: how can Joyce create a
satisfying conclusion, given the almost plotless nature of the book?
Perhaps he doesn't. In this book, Joyce constantly defies expectation.
Every element of the Homeric parallel is parodied and subverted in some
sort of way. Odysseus, an almost perfect figure widely beloved by all,
becomes Bloom, who despite some strong suits is creepy, a social outcast,
and has a somewhat pathetic life. Nestor, the wise old man of the Odyssey,
is transformed into the obnoxious and narrow-minded Mr. Deasy. Penelope,
Odysseus' faithful wife, becomes Molly sleeping around behind Bloom's back.
The Sirens, figures of seduction who draw Odysseus towards them, are
turned into the nasty Douce and Kennedy, who are repulsed by Bloom. The
dramatic action scene of stormy seas and great monsters that Scylla and
Charybdis implies is instead turned into an incredibly dull lecture on
Shakespeare. With all these disappointing subversions, it might even be
expected that the conclusion would be unsatisfying. However, as this essay
will show, this is not in fact the case.
Joyce wrote about his intentions in a letter to Frank Budgen in 1921: "I
am writing Ithaca in the form of a mathematical catechism. All events are
resolved into their cosmic physical, psychical etc equivalents so that not
only will the reader know everything and know it in the baldest coldest way,
but Bloom and Stephen thereby become heavenly bodies, wanderers like the
stars at which they gaze." These few sentences very effectively summarize
the nature of the universal perspective of the chapter, in a manner that this
essay will lay clear.
In order to understand what he means, we must look towards what the
central theses of Ulysses is. Originally known as Ulysses in Dublin, we can
see by what Joyce chose to title his work what the central point is, and that is
Bloom's journey through life in a single day reliving the legendary quest of
Odysseus. That single day is, of course, blown up to epic proportions, all the
various details and random thoughts and musings laid out in front of us. It is
at least a one to one scale model - each chapter probably takes at least an
hour to read. The point is that while our lives may seem uninteresting,
tedious, sometimes even pathetic, if we can look closely enough we will find
great drama and beauty. The implication is that we relive these great mythic

arcs every day, without even realizing it. This theme would again be
elaborated on in Joyce's follow-up novel, Finnegans Wake, in which a man
relives all of the history of civilization in his sleep. In "Ithaca", Bloom finally
fulfills both halves of the Odyssean quest - homecoming, and reunion with
his son. Even if he doesn't know it, he has completed an eternal journey, and
in doing so has fulfilled his role as a Odysseus figure. He has earned his
"passport to eternity", in the sense that he has become a part of a larger
eternal archetype, and therefore has achieved union with something greater
than himself.
This is touched upon in one of the question-answer pairs: "If he had
smiled why would he have smiled? To reflect that each one who enters
imagines himself to be the first to enter whereas he is always the last term of
a preceding series even if the first term of a succeeding one, each imagining
himself to be first, last, only and alone, whereas he is neither first nor last
nor only nor alone in a series originating In and repeated to infinity" (2125).
We see here that Bloom has a moment stepping into bed in which he has a
vision of a series of an infinitude of men all fulfilling the same role. In the
context of the novel, this seems to refer to Molly's many sexual partners, but
of course things in Ulysses are allowed to convey multiple meanings. The
extremely lofty language including references to infinity seems inappropriate
to merely refer to a string of infidelities. We see here that Bloom is "neither
first nor last nor only not alone in a series originating In and repeated to
infinity", or in other words that the role of Odysseus is taken on over and
over and over by many people, of which Bloom is just one iteration.
Another reference that conveys the same idea occurs at the end of the
chapter. "He rests. He has travelled. With? Sinbad the Sailor and Tinbad the
Tailor and Jinbad the Jailer and Whinbad the Whaler and Ninbad the Nailer
and Finbad the Failer and Binbad the Bailer and Pinbad the Pailer and Minbad
the Mailer and Hinbad the Hailer and Rinbad the Railer and Dinbad the Kailer
and Vinbad the Quailer and Linbad the Yailer and Xinbad the Phthailer"
(2320). Sinbad the Sailor is obviously a reference to Odysseus, as both are
mythical sailors who go on fantastic adventures. Here we see that there are a
wide variety of individuals who are analogous to Sinbad and yet have slightly
different characteristics. This is a reference to the infinite series of Odysseus
figures that Bloom is just one of. Bloom, according to the text, has travelled
with all of them in his journey throughout the day, meaning that he has
made a sort of spiritual connection with the infinite series of heroes, which
implies a deeper connection to eternity.
The final question-answer pair in the chapter is perhaps the most
fascinating one of all. The ultimate question is simply "Where?". In some
editions of the text, the question is simply unanswered. However, in others,
the chapter - and the story, really - culminates with a final period, an
oversized inky black perfect circle that stands alone on its own line. It is clear
that this is meant to be an answer, perhaps The Answer. Perhaps the period
represents the spherical Earth, maybe even the universe as a whole. The
answer to the question, therefore, is "Everywhere". We see a similar

expression of universality at an earlier point in the chapter: "What universal

binomial denominations would be his as entity and nonentity? Assumed by
any or known to none. Everyman or Noman" (2008).
As previously mentioned, the perspective in Ulysses can be modeled as
gradually widening throughout the second half of the book. This trend
reaches its final conclusion in "Ithaca", in which the vantage point becomes
wholly universal. The most obvious sense in which this is true is that for the
first time the narration is totally omniscient. The first voice asks a question,
and the second responds with a torrent of highly specific details, including
things that no mortal would ever think to commit to memory or attempt to
understand. For example observe the absurd degree of detail in this answer:
"Did he fall? By his body's known weight of eleven stone and four pounds in
avoirdupois measure, as certified by the graduated machine for periodical
selfweighing in the premises of Francis Froedman, pharmaceutical chemist of
19 Frederick street, north, on the last feast of the Ascension, to wit, the
twelfth day of May of the bissextile year one thousand nine hundred and four
of the christian era (jewish era five thousand six hundred and sixtyfour,
mohammadan era one thousand three hundred and twentytwo), golden
number 5, epact 13, solar cycle 9, dominical letters C B, Roman indiction 2,
Julian period 6617, MCMIV" (90).
A question that is constantly asked about the various voices used in
Ulysses is: who exactly is speaking? Can these characters be said to have
any consistent personality or ambitions that comes through in their writing?
In terms of "Ithaca", we have two distinct voices, the inquirer and the
answerer. It is clear that the answerer at the very least is some sort of
omniscient, eternal intelligence. In that sense, the prose begins to take the
form of a conversation between two gods or celestial beings. This recalls
aspects of the Odyssey. Many scenes of Homer's epic involve gods discussing
the exploits of Odysseus, who is a figure constantly worthy of attention in the
eye of the universe. Since Bloom is now Odysseus, or at least one of his
avatars scattered across space and time, he briefly becomes the center of
the universe himself: a figure worthy of special notice.
The style of this chapter is also often related to Catholic catechism, an
educational tool that describes God, the Bible, and the teachings of the
Catholic church. This is unlikely to be a coincidence, as Joyce was raised in a
Catholic institution and heavily influenced by his experiences there. Given
that the catechism is meant to describe God, and God is in a sense
equivalent to the entirety of the universe, there is an implication that in this
chapter, we are given literally everything - the entire universe is laid out
before us. Stephen Sicari describes the significance of this as such: "Joyce is
not abandoning realism but instead has followed ninteenth-century
naturalism to its limit, exhausting its resources and needing new ones if he is
to be able to present in Bloom what he wishes for us to find, that in this
unassuming ordinary man lies, hidden from the naturalistic narrator's eyes, a
dimension that can be called a 'Christ dimension'" (Sicari).
This utter universality explains passages such as the previously quoted

one about Bloom's weight. Every possible bit of information regarding the
subject is revealed. Obviously, even considering Joyce's tendencies to make
things go on for much longer than they should, this chapter had to end at
some point, so its infinite nature must be somewhat illusory. (That being said,
this is one of the longest chapters of the book - only "Circe", "Eumaeus", and
"Penelope" exceed it. By word count, "Ithaca" is over five times as long as
"Nestor".) Joyce creates these illusions by, as previously mentioned,
describing things in as much detail as possible. The other technique he uses
is to describe as many far reaching things as he can as if he is exploring all
the things in the heavens and the Earth. Consider the "water" Q&A pair,
perhaps the most extensive answer in the chapter. The journey of water, the
very essence of life, is outlined from the bottom of the sea floor to the ice of
the Antarctic to the condensation of vapor in the sky to "its variety of forms
in loughs and bays and gulfs and bights and guts and lagoons and atolls and
archipelagos and sounds and fjords and minches and tidal estuaries and
arms of sea". In fact, the way this answer begins is with the words "Its
universality". Additionally, a few questions later, the oppositional element of
fire is later considered.
Even Molly's butt is compared to all the lands in the world:
"Satisfaction at the ubiquity in eastern and western terrestrial hemispheres,
in all habitable lands and islands explored or unexplored (the land of the
midnight sun, the islands of the blessed, the isles of Greece, the land of
promise) of adipose posterior female hemispheres, redolent of milk and
honey and of excretory sanguine and seminal warmth, reminiscent of secular
families of curves of amplitude, insusceptible of moods of impression or of
contrarieties of expression, expressive of mute immutable mature animality"
(2229).
It must finally be said that for the reader, there is another way that this
chapter creates a sense of satisfaction and resolution: all answers are given.
At no point in the novel is the narration expository regarding Bloom's lifestyle
- we are simply dropped into his head, and any details in his life we must
infer via what he is thinking or what other characters are saying about him.
But here, finally, at the end of the book, we are treated to a wealth of
biographical and expository information about our hero.
So, far, what has been discussed is the implications of the writing style
and what it says about Bloom's position in the eye of the universe. But
earlier, it was mentioned how the writing style, even when it is clearly not
coming from inside the character's head, still always mirrors the character's
mental state to an extent. Critic Karen R. Lawrence argues cynically for a
lack of resolution in "Ithaca", describing the mechanical nature of the writing
as following: "Bloom psychologically displaces his anxieties onto a physical
object; in 'Ithaca' it is as if the story were displaced onto objects, as if the
mechanism of avoidance characterized the behavior of the text. This
narrative displacement, in fact, sometimes dovetails with Bloom's own
mechanism of avoidance, as in the answer to the question 'By what
reflections did he, a conscious reactor against the void incertitude, justify to

himself his sentiments?' The answer includes a disquisition on everything

from the 'frangibility of the hymen' to the 'apathy of the stars'. A. Walton Litz
has observed, rightly I think, that this answer 'is a reflection of Bloom's
thought as he strives for equanimity by sinking his own anxieties in the
processes of nature'" (Lawrence). It is true that Bloom uses meditation on the
processes of nature to reach equanimity. However, there is no reason to
believe that he is not successful.
Bloom is home, finally, at the end of a long day. He has a pleasant
interaction with Stephen. In line ____, it is finally stated that he reaches
"equanimity" regarding Boylan. We also see his reasoning for reaching
equanimity, and it can be said stem from a new "big picture" way of viewing
things, where the minor transgressions of the figures in his life do not seem
so important: "As natural as any and every natural act of a nature expressed
or understood executed in natured nature by natural creatures in accordance
with his, her and their natured natures, of dissimilar similarity. As not as
calamitous as a cataclysmic annihilation of the planet in consequence of
collision with a dark sun. As less reprehensible than theft, highway robbery,
cruelty to children and animals, obtaining money under false pretences,
forgery, embezzlement, misappropriation of public money, betrayal of public
trust, malingering, mayhem, corruption of minors" (2178). In this way, we
see that not only is the reader given a universal perspective and a satisfying
ending, but Bloom feels his perspective expanding, and is also content.
Sometimes in our lives we just have these little spiritual moments where a
sudden calm comes to us, and we become aware of the big picture. And we
feel very small, but also content to be a part of this unfathomable cosmic
machine. That is what Bloom is feeling as he goes to sleep. And that is why
Ulysses has a happy ending.

Rereading Ulysses: "Ithaca" and Modernist Allegory

Stephen Sicari
Twentieth Century Literature, Vol. 43, No. 3 (Autumn, 1997), pp. 264-290
Style and Narrative in the "Ithaca" Chapter of Joyce's Ulysses
Karen R. Lawrence
ELH, Vol. 47, No. 3 (Autumn, 1980), pp. 559-574