REPORT ON JAMES JOYCE'S ULYSSES

EPISODE 5--THE LOTUS EATERS (71-86)

The episode begins with Leopold Bloom walking along the city streets, absorbed and wandering in thought. The time is 10am, as the previous episode alludes to the chiming of the bells at St. George's church, and Bloom has walked one and a quarter miles south of Eccles Street to Sir John Robertson's Quay on the south bank (Gifford 84). Bloom reminds himself the funeral he plans to attend this morning is at 11am, and since he has "time enough" to make it, he leisurely strolls through the streets taking in all of the sights and sounds (71). His stop in front of the Oriental Tea Company's window allows further "reverie of sun-drenched ease," and as he wipes his brow, he speculates on life in the far east (Blamires 29). His revealed pseudonym, Henry Flowers, and his thoughts of "the garden of the world, big lazy leaves to float about on . . . not doing a hand's turn all day . . . too hot . . . lethargy . . . flowers of idleness" also set and support the mood of induced drowsiness and dream-like languor.

Finally, Bloom crosses the road to the post office and receives Flowers' mail. He is intercepted by M'Coy, and as they talk, Bloom speculates on what is inside the letter: "something pinned on: photo perhaps. Hair? No" (73). During the conversation with M'Coy, Bloom spots a well-dressed woman waiting to get into a car. He observes her carefully, noting the "silk flash rich stockings white" as she gets into the car. His voyeuristic fantasy is obstructed by a passing car, and he misses catching a glimpse of her legs, reminding himself that he is always on the outside, that he "feels locked out of it

. . . paradise and the peri" (74).

He loses M'Coy and finds privacy on Cumberland Street to open and read the letter from his amorous pen pal, Martha. She has enclosed a flower, which he places in his pocket, and begins to walk again reflecting on the letter. She fervently wants to meet him, and he takes pleasure in her words, yet he refuses to meet her, not wanting to become involved with the usual love affair complications; "thank you: not having any . . . usual love scrimmage . . . running around corners" (78). Bloom throws out the pin, shreds the letter, and thus, destroys Henry Flower, as easily destroyed as a check. He then briefly speculates on the check cashed by millionaire Lord Iveagh of Guinness and wonders how much porter it would take to sell "fifteen millions of barrels of porter" (79).

He steps into All Hallow's Church and contemplates the Catholic ceremony -- "there's a big idea behind it" ( 81 ) -- and compares the feeling of "one family party" to the loneliness of his religion. The communion wine reminds him of the porter being sold by the millions to the Dubliners, a "pious fraud but quite right" (81-82). After the ceremony, he walks to the drug store to get face lotion for Molly. He leaves the drugstore with a cake of lemon-scented soap and decides to return for the lotion later. Then he runs into Bantom Lyons who wants to borrow his newspaper, which Bloom was going to throw away. However, Bantom mistakenly interprets Bloom's "throwaway" as a lead for a bet since one of the horses is named "Throwaway" (86).

Bloom greets Hornblower at the baths, and he fantasizes about how cool and refreshing the water will feel, "naked in a womb of warmth" (86). He visualizes himself floating in the water, his torso, his navel, his "bud of flesh . . . limp father of thousands, a languid floating flower" (86).

After escaping the island of Calypso, Odysseus and his men land on Scheria and are entertained by King Alcinous and his court. There, Odysseus recounts some of his adventures to the king, one of which was the tale of the Lotus-Eaters. Early in his voyage from Troy, he and his men were forced from the sea by storm to the land of the Lotus-Eaters (Gifford 84). Seeking water and refuge, he and his men leave the ship, meet the friendly natives, eat the lotus flower and succumb to the lethargy and apathy it affects. The men forget their desire to return to their homeland, and Odysseus must drag them back to the ship to let the drug wear off and set sail himself.

As Bloom wanders through the streets, his mood is fragmented, reflective, brooding, and dream-like -- "a mood of drugged surrender to the impression of the moment" -- that expresses the idle, slow-moving sequence of this episode (Blamires 29). Indeed, the references to the Oriental Tea Company induce thoughts of warmth, flowers, and gardens, which quickly transfer Bloom to a state of languor. In fact, the thought Bloom carries on of relaxation and "sleep six months out of twelve" refers to the Lotus-Eaters, according to post-Homeric Greek mythology, who actually slept half the year (Gifford 85). Bloom's own name as well as his pseudonym, Henry Flower, correspond with the flower imagery so prevalent in the opening of this episode and thus link together the mythic lotus flower and the fantasy world of Bloom/Flower.

Bloom's identification with Odysseus can be connected through the use of the newspaper as a baton, "the Ulyssean sword of the modern advertising agent" and the cake of soap, "the shield," that he later purchases at the drug store (Blamires 29 & 33). In fact, the drug store can be seen as the main focus of the lotus-eating world; surrounded by perfumes, oils, lotions, baths, messages, Bloom is enticed to "combine business with pleasure" (85). He quickly forgets the nature of his business, Molly's face lotion formula, and is absorbed with the drug-like pleasure of scents and oils (the lotus flowers' effects). He decides to purchase a refreshing, lemony-scented soap and go to the bathhouse, therefore remaining in the pleasurable state of listlessness.

Joyce's antipathy for the Catholic religion is clearly revealed in this episode as Bloom observes the ceremony of the Eucharist being performed in All Hallow's Church. Again, Joyce points out the debilitating nature of religion and the betrayal of priests. The rites of the ceremony induce assimilation and submission as the women taking communion sublimely accept the Holy wine and bread with "shut your eyes and open your mouth"; the Latin serves to "stupefy them, " and the idea of Confession "lulls all pain" and induces "blind faith" (80-81). To further support his argument, Joyce has Bloom actually admire the Church on the grounds of competent organization, practical psychological devices (such as Confession), and proficient financial administration (Blamires 33).

To further connect the enervation of Catholicism with the sloth-like quality of the Irish people, Joyce holds responsible the two drugs of Ireland: communion wine and (Guinness) porter. Bloom observes that wine "makes it more aristocratic" than the porter and thus equals "pious fraud but quite right" (81-82). Earlier in the episode, Bloom reflects on the millions Lord Iveagh has made from selling millions of barrels of Guinness porter to Dubliners. The two are brought together to reflect the trappings of the Catholic religion and the Irish culture, a theme most predominant in Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist.

Perhaps the parody of the Mass in the opening episode with Stephen and Mulligan is further explored in the Lotus-Eaters episode to reveal the nature of outsider perspective. Since Joyce self-imposed his exile from Ireland, Bloom's own feelings of "loneliness" and separation from the "one family party" (of Catholicism) suggests representation of Joyce's feelings of isolation and disconnection. Bloom’s mentioning of the "paradise and the peri" after the scene with the well-dressed lady symbolizes the "locked out" feeling Bloom admits is "always happening like that" and signifies his isolation and separation from society (74). Ironically, the peri, according to Persian mythology, are creatures descended from the fallen angels and excluded from paradise until their penance has been served (Thornton 78). Since Joyce allows Stephen Dedalus and Leopold Bloom to express feelings of separation and detachment from Ireland and its religion, perhaps it is to voice his own poignant feelings of disappointment and rejection from his own country and its people.

Blamires, Harry. The New Bloomsday Book: A Guide Through Ulysses. Third edition.

London: Routledge, 1996.

Gifford, Don. Ulysses Annotated. Second edition. Berkley and Los Angels: University of

California Press, 1988.

Joyce, James. Ulysses. New York: Random House, 1934.

Thornton, Weldon. Allusions In Ulysses: An Annotated List. Chapel Hill, University of

North Carolina Press, 1961.