Essay on Stream of Consciousness Technique in James Joyce's "Ulysses". docx

Bruton

“Ulysses is perhaps chiefly famous for Joyce’s use of the technique of “stream of consciousness”. Compare and contrast the use of “stream of consciousness” in relation to any two characters in Ulysses. You should consider at least some of the following issues: language and form, how an idea of character is created in the interior monologues; the role of individual memory; the place of the specific voices of these characters in the overall structure and meaning of Ulysses.”

When we consider the term “stream of consciousness” in relation to literature, we tend to think of authours such as Virginia Woolf, Samuel Beckett, or William Faulkner; however, the most notable writer often discussed in modernist literature James Joyce and his novel Ulysses. Joyce uses the technique of “stream of consciousness” throughout Ulysses, especially in episodes relating to the main characters of Stephen Dedalus and Leopold Bloom. There are other episodes which contain the use of stream-of-consciousness, such as episode 10 “Wandering Rocks” and the notable chapter 18, “Penelope” which is narrated from Molly Bloom’s point of view. Due to the unconventional and abstract nature of stream-of-consciousness technique, Ulysses is regarded as both one of the most influential novels of the 20th century, one of the most difficult novels in literature in general. In this essay, I will attempt to discuss to the links and contrasts between the characters of Stephen Dedalus and Leopold Bloom, with specific references to their inner monologues in episode 3 “Proetus” and episode 4 “Calypso”, and several references to episodes 5 “Lotus Eaters” and 13 “Nausicaa” in relation to Bloom.

Stream-of-consciousness is an interesting technique used in Joyce’s writing style. According to David Lodge, it is a term which is derived from William James’ Principles of Psychology (1880). James noted the use of a “stream” to aid the description of “the ceaseless flow of disparate ideas, feelings, memories and so on” as they occur in the mind of an individual in their active state of awareness.
Upon examination of the character of Stephen Dedalus, we see that he is a troubled individual. Stephen is bombarded by the stimulations of his surroundings and the solipsism of his thoughts, which include parenthood, family and religion. In episode 3 “Proteus”, he reflects on his parents, and alludes to imagery of them: His father is described as having “my voice and my eyes”, and he describes his mother as “a ghost-woman with ashes on her breath” which makes us think of how Stephen almost always portrays his mother as a mottled and rotten corpse; yet it is possible to argue that since the end of Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man, this ghost no longer represents Stephen’s mother, but the ghost of his own remorse. He has begun to mature since her death, seeing the problems that arise when he cuts himself off from the world.
Stephen’s desire to become his own parent implies that he does not wish inherit his parents’ perceived biological weaknesses. However this search for purity seems very religious. It is possible to consider that Stephen may, to some degree, believe that he bears some similarities to Christ: this is highlighted in his consideration of the existence of Christ, and whether His existence was “willed” by God, like Adam and Eve’s was. Yet Stephen is pessimistic about his own existence: “He willed me and now may not will me away or ever.” Stephen also seems to think that maybe Christ did not come to Earth as the Son of God, but as an extension of Him - “Is that then the divine substance wherein Father and Son are consubstantial?” The final word here, “consubstantial”, alludes not just to God and Christ, but to the Holy Trinity; thus it is simpler to argue that Stephen does not consider himself to be similar to Christ, he is simply obsessed with His status in relation to God. Though Stephen wants to transcend his own flesh - his mother’s flesh - he is still unhappy with any explanation of his existence, and is clearly ashamed of being his parent’s child. This ties in with stream-of-consciousness as religious thoughts resurface whenever Stephen thinks about his family - “My consubstantial father’s voice... O weeping God... Cousin Stephen, you will never be a saint.”
In almost complete contrast to Stephen’s mental and chaotic entrapment, Leopold Bloom is very much a man rooted to reality, modernisation, and the city. From the very beginning of episode 4 “Calypso”, we are aware of Bloom’s lavish and almost animalistic love of offal, especially kidney. His SOC in this episode is much more organised and very connected to his surroundings, for example his thoughts on the absorption of heat in relation to colour: “Be a warm day I fancy. Specially in these black clothes feel it more”. Where Stephen is philosophical and reluctantly connected to Irish nationalism, Bloom is more interested in science and mathematics. He is constantly playing with numbers: “Put down three and carry five... Say he got ten per cent off. O more. Ten. Fifteen”. His mind appears to be very organised, with concerns mostly for the day-to-day, of fetching groceries, and looking forward to coming home to his wife Molly, who is lounging in bed. For a character like Bloom, Joyce seems to enjoy writing about the simplicity of city life, and simple acts such as Bloom’s defecation in the outhouse.
It is also worth noting that Bloom is the first character through whom we get the first glimpse of Dublin city. He is our camera, our window through which we experience most of the city life in Ulysses. He frequently narrates his surroundings and makes connections with what he sees, and the people he knows: “Boland’s breadvan delivering with trays our daily but she prefers yesterday’s loaves turnovers crisp crowns hot.” However, Bloom was not created solely to make us aware of Dublin or to show us the activity around the city; as one of the main protagonists of the novel, he has his own experiences and mundane stories, such as his awareness of Molly’s infidelity with Blazes Boylan, and how he knows that while he is out for the day, Blazes will most likely be with Molly. Like much of the novel, the title of this episode is a reference to a nymph in Homer’s Odyssey, and also refers to a semi-erotic picture of the nymph hanging above Leopold and Molly’s bed. Many critics of Ulysses believed that the episode’s title referred to Molly, and thus drew arguments from this conclusion to eroticise Molly - however, she is not the nymph to which the title refers.
In comparison to episode 3, episode 4 is much more straightforward. Both episodes occurs at roughly the same time during the same day. Leopold is going about his morning, interacting with Molly, fetching breakfast for himself from the butcher’s, greeting neighbours on the streets: “Good day, Mr O’Rourke.” and making plans to attend Paddy Dignam’s funeral later that day. He also admires some scenery around Dublin, such as the steeple of George’s church. He imagines Molly’s father Tweedy guarding gates into the city: “come to a city gate, sentry there... old Tweedy’s bug moustaches leaning on a long kind of spear”.
This large amount of activity contrasts with the lonely and mental setting of episode 3. Stephen is taking a walk along Sandymount Strand and is allowing his mind to almost explode with thoughts, emotions, memories, fragments of language - mostly French, as he frequently recalls his time in Paris - philosophy, history and many other topics and concepts. He observes a couple walking their dog, “a bloated carcass of a dog” lying “on bladderwrack”, he thinks about his “Latin quarter hat”, and writes a small note to himself which he subsequently crams into his pocket. The paragraphs in this chapter are mostly composed of Stephen’s thoughts, with one or two lines of narration or description before leading us to his internal monologue and stream-of-consciousness. We are brought back to the physical world - which is secondary in this episode - when he turns to see “a silent ship” coming into the bay. The absence of Stephen’s awareness of his surroundings is evident when he barely notices his Aunt Sara’s house and wonders if he will visit: “Am I going to Aunt Sara’s or not?” Apparently not, as he slips back into his thoughts - the imagery here refers to the Ancient Greek myth of Icarus and Daedalus: “Couldn’t he fly a bit higher than that, eh?” - and passes by. This contrast relates back to the difference between Stephen’s guilt-ridden solipsistic mind and Bloom’s focused and mathematical stream-of-consciousness.
Where we see philosophy and mythical legend surface in Stephen’s mind, Leopold’s thoughts are, not only more linear and logical, but overall they are very sexual For example, when he goes to the butcher’s to pick up a kidney for his breakfast. While he is waiting to be served, he realises he is next to his neighbour’s daughter, and he admires her hips while the butcher wraps her sausages: “His eyes rested on her vigorous hips.” He subsequently examines her arms, with a mixed sense of innuendo and wonder: “Strong pair of arms... She does whack it, by George. The way her crooked skirt swings at each whack.” In episode 5 “Lotus Eaters”, we notice Bloom’s correspondence with Martha Clifford, whom he encountered when he put out an ad to recruit a typist. She expresses an almost desperate need to meet him - “when will we meet? I think of you so often you have no idea.” - she calls him “naughty boy” and declares that she will “punish (him)” if he doesn’t write back. Leopold is aroused by this, but knows he will not meet her: “not having any” and dismissively discards her pin to the gutter: “Common pin... He threw it on the road”. Despite the illicit sexual nature of this correspondence, it is not a blatant example of Bloom’s sexual nature. Rather, it seems to precede the popular subject of internet dating and relationships. This hints at a development of then-modern Dublin and the world of Ulysses in general. Bloom’s sexual deviance is more evident in episode 13 “Nausicaa”, where he sees the attractive Gerty McDowell, and while partially concealed by a rock, he begins to masturbate, climaxing symbolically with the explosion of fireworks: “And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind and O!” This is a notorious example of Bloom’s indirect and unconsummated sexual behaviour - it also gives rise to the inappropriateness of his masturbation. He berates himself afterwards: “What a brute he had been!... A fair unsullied soul had called to him and, wretch that he was, how had he answered?” While we are aware of Bloom’s sexual nature, he is conscious of it too, especially in relation to Molly, with whom he hasn’t been able to sleep with since their son Rudy died. Bloom’s mind is different here to Stephen’s, who may have been in a brothel but he was there to play the piano, philosophise, and to start a brawl.
In relation to stream-of-consciousness, Bloom’s inner monologue may be more practical, more logical and mathematical, but it is also very self-aware. His sexual mind is evidence of his awareness of his body, and helps us to verify him more as a character instead of a lens through which we see and experience Dublin city. Joyce may have written Bloom with this in mind, but he also may have just been satisfied to write about an ordinary man living his life, a man with a calculating and mathematical mind interested in his surroundings and how to improve the lives of the modern Dublin denizens. With Stephen, Joyce brings philosophy, tradition, family, religion, a relentless barrage of solipsism, an awareness of the the self in the world, and a guilty conscience. Stephen is used to evoke sensations of reluctance to accept Irish nationalism, nostalgia, and many other emotions and thoughts in an uncontrollable and difficult manner. This is where we see a difference regarding SOC, and how it helps to form characters with their stylistic forms of inner monologue.

Bibliography / Works Cited
1] Joyce, James. “Ulysses”. Paris: The Odyssey Press, 1922, Print.
2] Lodge, David. “The best stream-of-consciousness novels”. The Guardian. The Guardian, 20 January 2009. Accessed 9-12 November 2013. http://www.theguardian.com/books/2009/jan/20/1000-novels-classic-novels.