Telemachus 0047

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Mulligan’s friendly condescension in the first part of this chapter has now turned into something a little darker. “You have eaten all we left, I suppose,” a comment directed at Stephen, is basically insulting. Stephen is the last to leave the tower, and he has the key. He’s being treated like the help, like unreliable help, the “server of a servant” again.

For the sake of clarity we left a line out here — after the “You have eaten” line, Mulligan says “And going forth he met Butterly.” It’s yet another instance of Mulligan using scripture for a (rather elliptical) joke. It’s based on a passage in the passion of the Gospel of Matthew where the apostle Peter realizes that he has betrayed Jesus three times over the course of one night, as Jesus had predicted he would. The original passage is: “And going forth he wept bitterly.” Mulligan’s quote puts him, curiously, in the place of Peter, whereas before he was Jesus. There is no other mention of a Butterly in the book, by the way.

Finally, keep an eye on the key. It’s a symbol of ownership, property, and power.

Oh and one more thing — Rob, is it time to say something about the “Latin Quarter Hat”?

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6 thoughts on “Telemachus 0047

  1. The “Mystery of the Hamlet Hat”? Here’s a link to that particular problem;

    Again, I’m very much indebted to Aida Yared and her Joyce Images site for visual reference, but I need some help here from Joyce-heads. There’s some prevailing questions that I’ve not solved yet about the final pages of “Telemachus”;
    -What is the shape and style of Stephen’s necktie (it’s commented on in “Aeolus” but not described)?
    -Should Stephen’s ashplant have crown? If so, what shape and material?
    -The man in the 40-foot hole that Mulligan is gossiping with goes unnamed. But he could easily be a character from later in the book like in “Wandering Rocks.” Any suggestions?
    -How about details of Haines’ cigarette case?

    Any suggestions people have on these kind of details will definitely be appreciated and, for as long as possible, rewarded with some original art. Josh and I are already working on the details of Bloom’s house for our next chapter, “Calypso”, so expect many more opportunities to help with costuming and set design to come up in the next week or so.


  2. (Continued)

    For confirmation, see ‘Ulysses’ (Gabler edition):

    Chapter 1, line 519: “And there’s your Latin quarter hat, he said.”
    Chapter 3, line 174: “My Latin quarter hat.”
    Chapter 6, lines 39-40: “Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, clad in mourning, a wide hat.”

  3. (Continued)

    For a close-up image, see the following.

    Beckett’s Sacrifice of Archaic Theatre on the Altar of Modernism

    (image here)
    “Latin Quarter hat” surely sounds like a phrase originating in English; one that would not, perhaps, translate readily into French. It will certainly sound English to the quite numerous listeners who recall it from Joyce’s Ulysses as Buck Mulligan’s designation of the headgear that Stephen Dedalus (for whom it is his “Hamlet hat”) wears around Dublin, to show off (Joyce, 1961, p. 17, 47).

  4. Gearing up for another BloomsDay and all the discussion/argument tat might bring!

    Good to have you back, Frank, and I can’t wait to hear what you’ve got for me on the “Calypso” pages.

    After a lot of exhaustive search and plenty of asking-before-drawing, I steered away from the wide-brimmed hat Frank has here. This was an artistic decision about what made sense for slowly presenting archaic forms of dress to a new and younger audience within the comic. This wide-brimmed hat would’ve sat out like a sore thumb in the first chapter while I was taking the approach of keeping the story relevant to modern audiences by down-playing “old-fashioned” costumes and locale. This is easier to do in “Telemachus” than in other chapters of course, but my plan has always been, like in a modern staging of a Beckett play, to let the environment come in a bit behind our attachment to the characters. The wide-brimmed “friars” hat would’ve made that less possible.

    But history shows us options and another burgeoning and popular hat in the Latin Quarter of Paris at the time was the beret. The one shown on Dr Yared’s site shows us the modern stage’s idea of linking Hamlet the scholar with the fashions of late 19th century at the Sorbonne. And since the beret is so indelibly French to those of us in current Western culture, and was unquestionably correct for the period, I went there for the sake of emphasis; “French”, “Latrin-quarter”, and “Hamlet”. The big take-aways for a new audience understanding who Stephen is.

    But the beauty of what we’ve got here on the digital page and in our Readers’ Guide aspect of the project is our ability to question and argue for both newcomers and long-time readers. Frank is right. While I don’t use the Gabler text he’s sited above, even the ’22 mentions Stephen’s wide-brim in the “Hades” episode. I’ve no doubt in my mind that this hat, one he himself owned, was what Joyce had in mind during the writing. And Frank brings that here in ways I’ve decided would be contradictory to the look of my comic.

    And that’s what makes this so cool.

    But the choices I make along the way are for reasons. I’d rather have had this argument before I drew the hat than after. It doesn’t mean the evidence isn’t valid, it just means that it doesn’t help. I looked for the right hat for a long time, and asked for advise of all the new subscribers and users. But, Frank, as deep as your knowledge is, posting what you’ve believe I got wrong isn’t what I need to do this correctly nor what helps thew project move along. I’m not likely to change pages because you’ve said that I’m wrong, but I’m very likely to take your advise on fixture pages that will make more people happy.

    So it seems to be a good time for you ad me to start talking about “Nestor” and “Lotus Eaters”.

    Bring it.

  5. Not meaning to be overly critical here (though I’m afraid I am) — it’s your creative work — but I get the feeling from your exposition above as I did some years ago when presented with the magician’s trick of offering one a deck of cards and saying “I have red cards and black cards. Which do you prefer?” I replied “I like the red.” Then I heard “Good. That leaves the black. Now of the black, which do you prefer. . . ” and so on down to the card the magician originally had in mind. No magic there at all, just the illusion of choice where there was none. You’ve heard my preferences and have argued them away. So then, what remains to be commented on? I say this regretfully: I’m being both invited to critique and though admitted to be valid yet held invalid. I would like to see this site add to Joyce’s textual work with a visual dimension that amplifies his, but not distorts it.

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