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Some of its original readers, Virginia Woolf or T.S. Eliot, hailed Joyces
work as the most important expression which the present age has found. 1
Others, like Bennett or Aldington, were repelled by it, seeing it as a
tremendous libel on humanity.2 Yet, no matter if they praised it for being able
to come closer to life 3 or loathed it for being indecent, obscene, scatological
and licentious4, all agreed that Joyces work was remarkable, technically
successful, an astonishing literary phenomenon.
1
Derek Attridge, Reading Joyce, The Cambridge Companion to James Joyce, ed. Derek Attridge
(Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1990) 8.
John Paul Riquelme, Stephen Hero, Dubliners, and A Portrait of the Artist as A Young Man: styles of
realism and fantasy, Derek Attridge, ed., op. cit., 117.
Could it be that he, Stephen Dedalus, had done those things? His conscience
sighed in answer. Yes, he had done them, secretly, filthily, time after time,
and, hardened in sinful impenitence, he had dared to wear the mask of
holiness before the tabernacle itself while his soul within was a living mass
of corruption. How came it that God had not struck him dead? The leprous
company of his sins closed about him, breathing upon him, bending over
him from all sides. (A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, 156)
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self, and, more importantly, to forge, out of the ordinariness of his material,
language, the imperishable being, the artists and the artists art.
A Portrait alternates between two antagonistic styles of visionary
intensity and grim realism [] both characteristic of Stephens consciousness
in Joyces unusual attempt to represent the mental act of aesthetic creation. 11
Thus, we could also see in A Portrait less an intention to come closer to life
than a sustained effort to create an autonomous, self-sufficient alternative to
life. A Portrait would be in this sense less the work of a novelist than that of an
aesthete.
- Look here, Cranly, [Stephen] said. You have asked me what I would do
and what I would not do. I will tell you what I will do and what I will not
do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself
my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in
some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for
my defence the only arms I allow myself to use silence, exile, and
cunning. (281)
This may be seen as a synthesis of Joyces outlook on life and the status
of art. For him, life and art tend to overlap. Art is a form of expression of the
self through depersonalisation. The self, a receptacle of extraneous influences,
has a chance to self-knowledge only through art. And it is also through art that
the self can capture the meaning underlying all things, can catch a glimpse of
the universal wholeness. Art as an end, as a mode of life, not as a means to life,
presupposes, from Joyces point of view complete freedom of choice, of value
standards and of method. Joyces view of life-art is completed by his theory of
beauty and aesthetic pleasure. Beauty, according to Joyce, is dependent on the
artists imagination and his ability to capture the whatness of a thing in an
aesthetic image.
When you have apprehended that basket as a thing you make the only
synthesis which is logically and esthetically permissible. You see that it is
that thing which it is and no other thing. The radiance of which [Aquinas]
speaks is the scholastic quidditas, the whatness of a thing. This supreme
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quality is felt by the artist when the esthetic image is first conceived in his
imagination. The mind in that mysterious instant Shelley likened beautifully
to a fading coal. The instant wherein that supreme quality of beauty, the
clear radiance of the esthetic image, is apprehended luminously by the mind
which has been arrested by its wholeness and fascinated by its harmony is
the luminous silent stasis of esthetic pleasure [] (242-243)
see Northrop Frye , Anatomy of Criticism. Four Essays (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1973) Theory of
Genres.
through Ulysses. The range of languages and codes within which Ulysses is
inscribed has a great deal to do with Joyces sense of himself as a citizen. Irish
history, Catholicism, the Celtic Revival, popular culture, Dublin geography, and
a certain slice of middle-class Dublin life in the years before and after the turn
of the century all play their part.13 Ulysses embodies Joyces ambition to
include everything in one book, the trivial and the extraordinary, the particular
and the cosmic, present, past and future. He seems to have found the mode of
life or art through which he could express himself as freely as he could and as
wholly as he could. He allowed himself, to this purpose, the freedom of all
narrative or expressive techniques, risking at times to violate the very limits of
intelligibility. Yet, no matter how agreeable or disagreeable it might be to
individual readers, we have to acknowledge Ulysses as the mankinds book.
Ulysses would rather be called a fictional prose book than a novel. Joyces
intention of reaching completeness translated itself into the books
encompassing more than one form of prose fiction. If we accept this as a
premise, we may find it easier to identify the pattern underlying the
organisation of Ulysses beyond its formal shapelessness.
For one possible way of looking at Ulysses, we will adopt the model of
analysis that Northrop Frye proposes in his Anatomy of Criticism according to
which Ulysses is not a novel, but several forms of prose fiction at once. Frye
starts from the assumption that, once the distinction between non-fiction and
fiction has been made and fiction has been generally equated to the novel,
there have been productions, in the history of Western literature, that, though
fictional, resisted the categorisation as novels. This leads to Fryes concluding
that the novel is not to be seen as the only form of prose fiction, but rather as
one functioning alongside other forms, combinations between them being
always possible. Frye distinguishes thus the novel from romance, confession
and anatomy.
Novel versus romance. While the novel attempts to create the illusion of
real people, the romance produces more stylised figures, likely to expand into
psychological archetypes. The characters in a novel exist as personalities,
whereas those of the romance are seen in their individuality in vacuo, rather
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than within the framework of a society. In its tendency to allegory, the romance
deals with heroes, which makes it function as an intermediate between the
novel, which centres on men, and the myth, which deals with gods.
Novel versus confession. Having an autobiographical character, the
confession, though it implies selection of events and experiences of a writers
life, always foregrounds a theoretical and intellectual interest in various issues
such as politics, religion, art from a subjective standpoint. Unlike the
confession, the novel, through its technique, presupposes a process of
depersonalisation, ideas and theories being hidden, or rather dissolved, in
personal relationships.
Novel versus anatomy. The anatomy dissects or analyses intellectual
themes or attitudes by always displaying exhaustive erudition of treatment.
Developed from the Menippean satire, the anatomy deals less with people than
with mental attitudes. Various categories of villains are dealt with not in terms
of their position in society, but in terms of their approach to life. The novel
characterises people, while the anatomy makes them exponents of different
ideas.
Frye sums up the differences among forms showing that the novel is
extroverted and personal, the romance is introverted and personal, the
confession is introverted and intellectual, whereas the anatomy is extroverted
and intellectual. We should add that the two former forms deal with people, the
latter deal with ideas and attitudes.
According to Frye, his view being supported by the actual writings in the
history of Western literature, there are no pure forms. When the confession
enters the novel, the fictional autobiography is obtained. The anatomy merging
with the novel may end up in the roman thse, for instance.
Following this line of argument, Ulysses is a synthesis of all these forms.
It is a novel on account of the accuracy with which it represents the life of
Dublin, with all its smells, sounds and sights, and its inhabitants, by skilfully
portraying the characters and bringing them into dialogue. It is a romance if we
judge it by the way in which the story and the characters are placed,
parodically, against the archetypal heroic patterns found mainly in the analogy
with Homers Odyssey. It is a confession if we focus on the use of the
19
Ibid., 218.
Letters of James Joyce, quoted in Dorrit Cohn, op. cit., 218.
21
Ibid.
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to the unconscious, bring readers into immediate contact with a far richer
world, that of the characters thoughts, feelings, emotions and sensations.
The most often employed is the technique of the quoted interior
monologue, though not in a conventional manner, but in a typically Joycean
one. The quotation marks that used to signal the passage from the authorial
narrative voice to the characters consciousness are omitted. The entry into the
fictional characters mind is smooth and almost imperceptible, marked
grammatically by the change of person and tense and stylistically by adopting
the characters idiom, which significantly reduces the distance between the
outer and the inner world.
Mr. Bloom stooped and turned over a piece of paper on the strand. He
brought it near his eyes and peered. Letter? No. Cant read. Better go.
Better. Im tired to move. Page of an old copybook. All those holes and
pebbles. Who could count them? Never know what you find. Bottle with
story of a treasure in it thrown from a wreck. Parcels post. Children always
want to throw things in the sea. Trust? Bread cast on the waters. Whats
this? Bit of stick. (Ulysses, 403)
What is, however, worthwhile noticing is that Joyces use of psychonarration comes closer to the realist convention than to the manner the same
technique is employed by Lawrence, for instance, i.e. to reveal the sub- or
beyond verbal layers of human consciousness. The fact that he did not give it
up, rather unexpectedly if we consider that he was the most radical
experimenter of all, can only point to Joyces intending to preserve, through it,
the illusion of the narrative being kept under control by a superior instance. As
the characters in Ulysses represent mature consciousnesses capable of
expressing themselves, psycho-narration could have been easily dispensed with
if it had not been for Joyces intention to preserve the illusion of realism.
That this idea is correct is proved by the fact that, when dealing with the
deeper strata of being, the sub- and the unconscious, Joyce resorts to devices
that do not pertain to the narrative art, but rather to the dramatic one. In the
Circe episode, he adopts the technique of the expressionist drama to objectify
an inner world violently distorted under the pressure of intense personal
moods, ideas, and emotions.22 Language no longer refers to a reality outside
the characters mind, it is exclusively used to express feeling and imagination.
ZOE
STEPHEN
22
Thursday. Today.
ZOE
Thursdays child has far to go. (She traces lines on his hand.) Line
of fate. Influential friends.
FLORRY
ZOE
(Pointing.) Imagination.
Mount of the moon. Youll meet with a (She peers at his hands
abruptly.) I wont tell you whats not good for you. Or do you want
to know?
(Ulysses, 554)
in the individuals mind accounts for the use of those techniques meant to help
move closer to the essence of what the modernists understood by life, not
exterior reality, but the individuals subjective response to it. Reality is thus
decomposed through numberless subjective centres of consciousness. The
change of focus from the outside to the inside is accompanied by a new view of
time, understood not as chronology, but as duration. The subjectively distilled
present moment expands into infinity. Time and timelessness fuse. Ulysses is
essentially a modernist work in its effort to reach completeness out of
fragments, to cast coherence upon a dismembering system.
Yet, through an artful assimilation and reprocessing of tradition, Ulysses
connects the literary tradition, of which it becomes part, to postmodernism. By
its highly unusual use of language, Ulysses draws attention to language itself as
the specific medium of literature, pointing thus to the status of literature as art.
Drawing on other books and other ways of writing, Ulysses asserts and denies
simultaneously, being at the same time confident in and sceptical about each
and all truths.
Ulysses is in essence the expression of the modern, with language lying
central to it, either in its modernist or in its postmodernist manifestations.
Ulysses is modernist in its search for a meaning, in its striving to reach stability,
to shape a disordered world - not, in the first instance, either to reform or
escape it but, instead, to establish, if only negatively, a relationship with it. 25 It
is postmodernist in its distrust of all meanings, in its turning upon itself and
asserting the fictional truth as the only one valid. We would agree thus to
Faulkners evaluation of Ulysses, under the reserve that his modernist
literature should be read as modern literature, which would comfortably
include both the modernist and the postmodernist enterprise.
Ulysses manifests pre-eminently the self-consciousness characteristic of
modernist literature. Sceptical of the truth of all else, its attention must rest
initially and ultimately upon itself, upon its own paradoxical actuality of
fiction, a reality which is not true, a truth which is not reality. This selfconsciousness [] involves the recognition of a disparity [between self and
world], a disparity contained however within an integer, the work of art itself.
25
Ulysses thus insists, first and last, upon its status and quality as artefact and
fiction.26
26