The Wanderer

 

Night at last approaches, when the sun paints the weary west with fiery pictures of glowing seas, of golden islands hanging in the sky, of lonely magic waterways unsailed by mortal keels; then, indeed, there comes into the heart and brain another warmth, the mysterious quickening of Romance.

The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of adjoining paraheliotropic trees. And men who have shared their bed with death know when the call is sounded. A fine poet, a great player, are to give us an Ulysses who must perforce be not only full of the spirit of his own age of myth, but instinct with the spirit of this.

But the sun swept back on its northern journey, the black of midnight changed to the steely color of dawn, the snow slipped away, the water dashed again over the glacial drift, and the wash-up began. Day and night the yellow clay and scraped bedrock hurried through the swift sluices, yielding up its ransom to the strong men from the Southland.

That is as inevitable as it is interesting. Someone ought to take them and give them a good hiding for themselves to keep them in their places, the both of them. Where was Moses when the candle went out?

A man with such immensity of glory ceases to be a man. He becomes a Force. The world has changed. Great empires have risen, flowered and passed. He saw the priest bend down and kiss the altar and then face about and bless all the people. All crossed themselves and stood up. For 3000 years his fame has streamed down the ages. In the shadow of the glen he cooees for them. My soul's youth I gave him, night by night. God speed. Good hunting. What did his limbs, when gradually extended, encounter?

He showed them the rising column of disks on the right. He holds my follies hostage. Then the beaten brutes crept to the edge of the firelight, licking their wounds, voicing their misery to the stars. Begob he drew his hand and made a swipe and let fly.

The beautiful ineffectual dreamer who comes to grief against hard facts. Folly. Persist. I walked by his side, upright. And he looked at me during the moments he rested, and wondered that I was so strong. I could see it, though he no longer spoke; and when his lips moved, they moved without sound.

All the lordly residences in the vicinity of the palace of justice were demolished and that noble edifice itself, in which at the time of the catastrophe important legal debates were in progress, is literally a mass of ruins beneath which it is to be feared all the occupants have been buried alive.

Gone. They sing. Forgotten. I too. And one day she with. Leave her: get tired. Suffer then. Snivel. Big spanishy eyes googling at nothing. Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing. The catastrophe was terrific and instantaneous in its effect. We have come here to witness a clean straight fight and we heartily wish both men the best of good luck. Mahak makar a bak.

At sea, septentrional, by night the polestar, located at the point of intersection of the right line from beta to alpha in Ursa Maior produced and divided externally at omega and the hypotenuse of the rightangled triangle formed by the line alpha omega so produced and the line alpha delta of Ursa Maior. On land, meridional, a bispherical moon, revealed in imperfect varying phases of lunation through the posterior interstice of the imperfectly occluded skirt of a carnose negligent perambulating female, a pillar of the cloud by day.

And there rises a shining palace whose crystal glittering roof is seen by mariners who traverse the extensive sea in barks built expressly for that purpose, and thither come all herds and fatlings and firstfruits of that land takes toll of them.

But I would take that adroit simile and draw another meaning from it, the winds are blowing, the seas moaning, and the estranged sad spectres of the night flit noiselessly across the printed page. The most pathetic part, perhaps, was the businesslike way in which they went about it. Reaping the whirlwind. Circe had enthralled Ulysses for a year in her palace of wine and sorcery and lust. That was a time of fierce sinful pleasures, of wild deliriums.

The next stage of his adventures brings him to Hades, where he goes to consult the shade of the wise Tiresias as to the means of reaching home in safety. He passes the terrible coasts of the Sirens unhurt, and escaped the monsters Scylla and Charybdis by a series of narrow chances.

Among the grove of stately trees which bordered the smooth pneumatic lawn in front of the cave Ulysses lay sleeping on a bed of fresh-born violets. A purple mantle shot with gold, woven by Calypso, was spread over him. She did the work; he got the credit and reward. In the Northwest Territory a married woman cannot stake or record a creek, bench, or quartz claim. They waited still, their knees jogging, till they had turned and were passing along the tramtracks. Quicker. The wheels rattled rolling over the cobbled causeway and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the doorframes.

I am a fool perhaps. He gets the plums, and I the plumstones. Where I come in. All that old hill has seen. He pulled the door to after him and slammed it twice till it shut tight. It was bright sunlight, a great fire of cedar wood burnt on an altar before the cave of the goddess who loved the hero, and the smoke scented all the island.

His face got all grey instead of being red like it was and there was a fly walking over it up to his eye. The scrunch that was when they were screwing the screws into the coffin: and the bumps when they were bringing it downstairs.

No more blow hot and cold. What you longed for has come to pass. Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing under the yoke. Now for your punishment frock. Contradiction. Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. Mercurial Malachi. A limp black missile flew out of his talking hands.

Still the white mist circled round them. Interest deepened. Here was a fresh enigma. No more pain. Wake no more. Nobody owns.

When the first faint hintings of dawn brightened through the mist a little breeze arose, and before the sky was more than faintly flushed with day the night fog was blown away like thistledown. This was the home and kingdom of the Goddess Calypso, and was so beautiful a place that the fame of it had even reached Olympus, and the gods knew of the island.

Boots giving evidence. Thought he was asleep first. Then saw like yellow streaks on his face. Had slipped down to the foot of the bed. Verdict: overdose. Death by misadventure. The letter. For I think that the ringing sound of arms, the vibrant thriddings of bows, the clash of heroes, are far less wonderful than the long, lonely wanderings of Ulysses.

As the sun climbed up the sky the companions found that they had been carried to a scene of singular beauty. They were on an island, a small, rich place at the mouth of a great bay. Rich level grass meadows, green as bright enamel and brilliant with flowers, sloped gently down to the violet sea. Behind was a thickly-wooded hill, at the foot of which was a sparkling spring surrounded by a tall grove of poplar trees.

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On a red evening Calypso stood alone on a rock that jutted out into the sea. A server bearing a brass bucket with something in it came out through a door. The whitesmocked priest came after him, tidying his stole with one hand, balancing with the other a little book against his toads belly. Who shall read the book? I, said the rook.

Bloom was pointing out all the stars and the comets in the heavens to Chris Callinan and the jarvey: the great bear and Hercules and the dragon, and the whole jingbang lot. But, by God, I was lost, so to speak, in the milky way. He knows them all, faith. At last she spotted a weeny weeshy one miles away. Rough jests and rougher jokes went up and down, and great hazards by trail and river were spoken of in the light of commonplaces, only to be recalled by virtue of some grain of humor or ludicrous happening. 

The ghosts began to call and cry to the living hero. Some had little squeaky voices like bats, others made a louder and more hollow sound. Fresh clouds of spirits pricked the twilight, increased in size, amalgamated, thickened, and hurried towards him, crying. Just as the beast raised his head from the water the spear flashed like a gleam of light from the clump of fern, and the quarry stumbled, clattering among the stones with a sob. The howlings of the formless increased all round Ulysses.

And as I spoke I saw the promise grow in her eyes, full and large like the break of dawn. And I read pity there, the tenderness of woman, the love, the heart and the soul of Unga. And I was a stripling again, for the look was the look of Unga as she ran up the beach, laughing, to the home of her mother. The stern unrest was gone, and the hunger, and the weary waiting. The inarticulate found utterance in the indefinite.

A thick column of blue smoke was rising from among the trees, and looking more intently than before he could see the gleam of white marble here and there through the greenwood, and catch the sunlight glinting upon copper. The waves of weird and hopeless voices rose, fell, undulated, now loud and shrill, now sobbing into silence. Little eager whispers filled the hero's ear.

He began to retrace his steps down towards his comrades on the shore to tell them what he had seen. And to the terror of these great murmurs were added the sight of superhuman outlines, which melted away in the gloom almost as they appeared.

A second messenger interrupted with imperative summons from the council. The song of the men broke suddenly and there was a hubbub of many voices as he whirled the old woman roughly to her couch of skins. Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a pocket but keened in a querulous brogue:

Lots of them like that at this moment all over the world. All butting with their skulls to get out of it. Child born every minute somewhere. And I seen a man killed in Trieste by an Italian chap. Knife in his back. Knife like that. His heavy glance drowsily roaming about kind of defied their further questions even should they by any chance want to.

Whilst speaking he produced a dangerous looking claspknife quite in keeping with his character and held it in the striking position. So Ulysses, being hungry, though innocent of the initial sacrilege, makes his unhallowed meal with the rest. He must endure the pain, so plucks the pelf also. To enlarge upon his courage and endurance were unnecessary. How can one judge the man of 3000 years ago by the standards of today?

The goddess turned into light and was no more, and with slow, tottering footsteps Ulysses took a lonely way among the well-remembered paths of his native hills. The necessity of order, a place for everything and everything in its place: the deficient appreciation of literature possessed by females: the incongruity of an apple incuneated in a tumbler and of an umbrella inclined in a closestool: the insecurity of hiding any secret document behind, beneath or between the pages of a book.

And as they wended their way by Nelson's Pillar, Henry street, Mary street, Capel street, Little Britain street chanting the introit in Epiphania Domini which beginneth Surge, illuminare and thereafter most sweetly the gradual Omnes which saith de Saba venient they did divers wonders such as casting out devils, raising the dead to life, multiplying fishes, healing the halt and the blind, discovering various articles which had been mislaid, interpreting and fulfilling the scriptures, blessing and prophesying.

Listen to the Law of the Wolf: Whoso taketh the life of one Wolf, the forfeit shall ten of his people pay. In many lands has the price been paid; in many lands shall it yet be paid. There was a silence of consternation in the great banqueting hall of the palace. The giant looked fixedly at the trembling band for a moment. Then, with a sudden movement, he snatched among the mariners and grasped two of them in his mighty hand. Then Eurylochus took up his spear as if he had decided and the discussion was over. There was neither pity nor passion in his face, but rather the patient, stolid look of one who has certain work to do and goes about it methodically.

The decision was for war. In a trice, scores of moccasins were widening the space of beaten snow by the fire. There was much chatter about the seeming defeat of the Shaman; some averred he had but withheld his power, while others conned past events and agreed with the Wolf. The Bear came to the center of the battle-ground, a long naked hunting-knife of Russian make in his hand. The swift horror remained with them in all their after life. He stripped the clothes from each like a man strips the scales from a prawn with one quick twirl of his fingers.

The hours wore on and the flames of the fire sank into a bright red glow. The loud stertorous breathing of the monster became more deep and regular. Very silently the five rose from among the rest and stole towards the fire with the great stake. They pressed it into the heart of the white hot embers and sat watching it change from black to crimson, while little sparks ran up and down the sides like flies upon the wall.

What is that flying about? Swallow? Bat probably. Thinks I'm a tree, so blind. Have birds no smell? Metempsychosis. They believed you could be changed into a tree from grief. Weeping willow. Ba. There he goes. Funny little beggar. Wonder where he lives. Belfry up there. Very likely. Hanging by his heels in the odor of sanctity. Bell scared him out, I suppose. But for example the chap that wallops the big drum. 

But her next move disarmed his doubt, and he smiled with pleasure. She took from her sewing bag a moosehide sheath, brave with bright beadwork, fantastically designed. She drew his great hunting-knife, gazed reverently along the keen edge, half tempted to try it with her thumb, and shot it into place in its new home. Then she slipped the sheath along the belt to its customary resting-place, just above the hip. For all the world, it was like a scene of olden time, a lady and her knight. Soft hands drew him from the deep, soft voices welcomed him; it seemed as if one queenly presence, a tall woman with golden hair which shone, towered among the rest, and he fell into a gentle swoon, a soft surrender to sleep.

The cessation of existence of both or either, the inauguration of a new era or calendar, the annihilation of the world and consequent extermination of the human species, inevitable but impredictable. Hand in hand, they would quit this horrid dream and journey back to the Southland. They lurched blindly forward, and their hands met, their poor maimed hands, swollen and distorted beneath their mittens.

Then they helped him shove open the cabin door, and he felt sure they shut it after him, at least he heard it slam and the latch fall sharply into place. And he knew they were waiting just without, waiting for him to do his task. Home did not seem so very far away now.

Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. As he was walking towards the chamber of the queen an old woman came towards them, a very old woman with a lined brown face and little, brilliant twinkling eyes. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak.

This time, though the multitude of the dead circled over him with cries, begging his help to take them out of Hades, he felt no fear, for his mind was burning with other thoughts. The cries grew fainter and more faint. The light changed from grey to primrose, from primrose to yellow. The little star which was the mouth of the cave became a sun and then a world, and the yellow turned into the white hot sunshine as Hell faded utterly away.

He went out by the open porch and down the gravel path under the trees, hearing the cries of voices and crack of sticks from the playfield. The lions couchant on the pillars as he passed out through the gate: toothless terrors. Still I will help him in his fight. Mulligan will dub me a new name: the bullockbefriending bard.

But they had lost in the race with winter, and one day they tied their rafts to the thick eddy-ice and hurried their goods ashore. That night the river jammed and broke several times; the following morning it had fallen asleep for good. He goes wandering alone among the rocks and sleeps all day. And his eye is clouded and courage has left his voice. 

Friends, shall we die thus? No man of ye loveth Ulysses better than I love him. Is he not my kinsman indeed? He brought us from the Cyclops cave and dared the perils of Hell. All this I know and say before you now. But the king is distraught and moody. He does not know what he is doing. Sauntering sadly, gold no more, she twisted twined a hair. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear. He would be the first to join us with the merry and grateful word were he to come back and find the good red beef roasting on the fire and smell the savoury smoke.

Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in the Ormond hallway heard the growls and roars of bravo, fat backslapping, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. General chorus off for a swill to wash it down. Glad I avoided. Through the open window of the church the fragrant incense was wafted and with it the fragrant names of her who was conceived without stain of original sin, spiritual vessel, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, mystical rose. And careworn hearts were there and toilers for their daily bread and many who had erred and wandered, their eyes wet with contrition. I carried the strong, strange blood of this white man who came out of the sea. It is said we had other laws in the days before these men; but they were fierce and quarrelsome, and fought with our men till there were no more left who dared to fight.

He strolled out to the doorway. Buck Mulligan bent across to Stephen and said with coarse vigour: Mankind is incorrigible. Sir Walter Ralegh brought from the new world that potato and that weed, the one a killer of pestilence by absorption, the other a poisoner of the ear, eye, heart, memory, will, understanding, all. That is to say he brought the poison a hundred years before another person whose name I forget brought the food. Suicide. Lies. All our habits. Why, look at our public life! Tap blind walked tapping by the tap the curbstone tapping, tap by tap.

We farmed the salt seas for the fish, the seal, and the otter; and our homes shouldered about one another on the rocky strip between the rim of the forest and the yellow beach where our kayaks lay. The still smoke rose into the soft air and a great calm seemed to brood over the place. No birds flew about the roofs.

The wood was as still as before, but when he came to the meadow lands below he dropped quickly behind a clump of fern, for his keen eyes had seen a smooth brown flank not far away. A great stag was drinking at a little stream which sang its way down from the mountain to the sea. They had touched at the island with very little food left, and the king had promised that he would return with spoils from hunting.

In the leafy wood the wild goats leapt under the wild vine trees like Pan at play, as fearless of the intruders as if they had never seen men before. All the bright morning the sailors made the wood ring with happy laughter as they speared the goats for a feast. All trouble passed from their minds, and as the spears flashed swiftly through the green wood the shrill, jocund voices of the hunters made all the island musical. Ulysses plunged into a translucent pool at the foot of the spring, and the cool water flashed like diamonds over his strong brown arms, and he looked indeed as if he were some river-god and this his fairy home.

Our dogs were many and ate much; nor could our sleds carry till the break of spring. We must come back before the river ran free. He stumbled to the feet of Ulysses. When he touched him the old dogs lay down in the dust and with a long sigh they died. If She have spoken a word, remember thy lips are sealed, And the brand of the Dog is upon him by whom is the secret revealed. 

A curious white mist suddenly rolled over the still surface of the sea, thick and ghostly. The mast and sail, which was now drooping and lifeless, swayed through it like giant spectres. Ulysses could see none of his companions, but when he hailed the watch the voice of Phocion came back to him through the ghostly curtain, curiously thick and muffled.

Then with a long grinding noise the ship seemed suddenly lifted up in the water, jerked forward, and then dropped again. She began to heel over a little out of the perpendicular, and then remained still, stranded upon an unknown and mysterious shore, where the waves were all asleep. 

A bat flew. Here. There. Here. Far in the grey a bell chimed. Mr Bloom with open mouth, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Just for a few. Buck Mulligan peeped an instant under the mirror and then covered the bowl smartly. What ails you, brother, that you call us from sleep in the night?

At this awful sound mighty footsteps were heard outside the cave as the other giants rushed down from the hills. There came great and terrible voices shouting together, and it was as though a great storm was racing through the world. A cloud began to cover the sun slowly, wholly. Grey. Far.

To smell the gentle smoke of tea, fume of the pan, sizzling butter. Be near her ample bedwarmed flesh. Yes, yes. One way of getting on in the world. And that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Hard time she must have with him. The cords of all link back, strandentwining cable of all flesh. That is why mystic monks. Will you be as gods?

A barren land, bare waste. Vulcanic lake, the dead sea: no fish, weedless, sunk deep in the earth. No wind could lift those waves, grey metal, poisonous foggy waters. Brimstone they called it raining down: the cities of the plain: Sodom, Gomorrah, Edom. All dead names. A dead sea in a dead land, grey and old. Old now. It bore the oldest, the first race. A bent hag crossed from Cassidyas, clutching a naggin bottle by the neck. The oldest people. Wandered far away over all the earth, captivity to captivity, multiplying, dying, being born everywhere. It lay there now. Now it could bear no more.

SOURCES: James Joyce, Jack London, Homer