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Andrej Belyj's "Petersburg" and James Joyce's "Ulysses": A comparative study
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Andrej Belyj's "Petersburg" and James Joyce's "Ulysses": A comparative study
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Content
ANDREJ BELYJ'S PETERSBURG AND JAMES JOYCE'S ULYSSES
A COMPARATIVE STUDY
by
Alexander Woronzoff
W W « L .
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(Comparative Literature)
August 197 5
UMI Number: DP22530
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L O S A N G E L E S. C A L IF O R N IA 9 0 0 0 7
This dissertation, written by
Alexander^, Woro ............
under the direction of hL§.... Dissertation C om
mittee, and approved by all its members, has
been presented to and accepted by The Graduate
School, in partial fulfillment of requirements of
the degree of
D O C T O R O F P H I L O S O P H Y
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DISSERTATION COMMITTEE
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Section
INTRODUCTION ....
I. THE SYMBOLIST MOVEMENT
II. EPIPHANY AND SYMBOL .
III. EXPANSION OF MOMENT .
IV. POETIC DEVICES . . . .
V. ALLUSIVE CONSTRUCTION
CONCLUSION .........
BIBLIOGRAPHY ....
INTRODUCTION
t
Andrej Belyj has often, been dubbed the Russian James
Joyce;^ yet very little has been done with Belyj’s prose
works, in general, and almost nothing with those traits his
novels have in common with other European novelists at the
'beginning of the twentieth century. Belyj’s ability to
adapt and incorporate the devices of nineteenth century
poetry into the texture of his prose works and his experi
mentations with novelistic techniques, suggest a parallel
I
t
with novelists such as Proust, Mann, and especially Joyce.
Unlike Joyce, about whom an enormous literature
exists, there has been very little investigation into
Belyj's literary innovations. There is but a single arti
cle that focuses on a comparison between Andrej Belyj and
I
jJames Joyce: George Reavey’s "Le mot et le monde d'Andrej
Belyj et de James Joyce" was written in 1951 and has re
cently been reprinted in English as part of Reavey's
^ See for example Gleb Struve, "Andrej Belyj's Experi
ments with Novel Technique." Stil und Formprobierne in der
[Literature (Heidelberg, 1956), p. 459.
2 :
introduction to his own translation of The Silver Dove.
Reavey's study can only serve as an introduction, for it is ' •
a very general overview of both authors’ novels and criti
cal statements. The bases for Reavey's comparison is the
i
influence of the symbolist aesthetic on Joyce and Belyj:
both writers felt the impact of the Symbolist movement in
Europe and in Russia. They made use of the new movement's
Idevices in an attempt to renovate and rejuvenate prose
language as well as the genre of the novel. This disser
tation will explore Joyce's Ulysses and Belyj's Petersburg
as seen through the common heritage of the symbolist
aesthetic.
There are no correspondences that can be established
pbetween Joyce and Belyj: they did not read each other's
I
jworks. Petersburg was begun by Belyj in 1911 and was seri-
I
ialized in its entirety in 1913 and 1914 in the journal
jSirin. It is this version that was reprinted without
i
|change in book form in 1916. A reworked Berlin edition,
i
jwhere Belyj omitted some of the anthroposophic imagery and
^softened passages dealing with the revolution, appeared in
I 3
jtwo volumes in 1922 . To this day the major studies of
I
I
I 2
i George Reavey, "Le mot et le monde d'Andrej Belyj et
jde James Joyce." Roman, No. 2 (1951), 103-11. Also
preprinted and translated into English as an introduction
ito The Silver Dove. Trans. George Reavey (New York, 197-4).
3
There is some controversy concerning which of the two
i
i 2
. ^
Petersburg have been written in German. James Joyce _
Ulysses was published in 1922 when the Shakespeare Bookshop
Belyj's work, the publication of Ulysses unleashed a tor
rent of studies, articles, books, and dissertations that
interpret the novel from a myriad of conceivable approaches.
This dissertation will attempt a systematic analysis
of Joyce's and Belyj's use of symbolist poetic devices in
the novels Ulysses and Petersburg. Since Joyce and Belyj
did not know each other's works, and any comparison of
the two novels must deal with a case of parallel
editions is superior: Ivanov-Razumnik and Mocul'skij side
with the 1916 edition, while Holthusen feels it is the
1922 version. This study will make use of the 1916
edition as reprinted by Bradda Books: Andrey Bely,
Petersburg (Letchworth: Bradda Books, 1967). All quota
tions will refer to this edition and page numbers will be
found in parentheses. Translations are taken from the
jEnglish language version: John Cournos, St. Petersburg
!(New York: Grove Press Inc., 1959). When passages are
lomitted in Cournos's translation or when they are modified
Ito the point where they are no longer useful to the pur
poses of this study, alternate translations are used.
i
I 4
; See especially Dagmar Burkhart, "Leitmotivik und
jSymbolik in Andrej Belyj's Roman Peterburg." Die Welt der
;Slaven, IS (1964), 277-323, and Johannes Holthusen, StudXen
|zur Aesthetic und Poetic des russischen Symbolismus
i(G&*ttingen, 1957) . The former traces Belyj's use of
jleitmotif, while the latter interprets the novel as the
jsummit of Russian symbolist prose.
| ^
| All quotations to Joyce's work refer to: Ulysses
|(New York: Modern Library, 1961). Page references will
ibe found in parentheses.
of Paris came out with a limited edition.
5
As opposed to
development, this study will initially briefly outline the
intellectual climate in Europe and Russia at the beginning
of the twentieth century. It will also isolate some of
the poetic devices that will be discussed in later chap
ters .
Of central importance to the organizational patterns
of Ulysses and Petersburg are Joyce's use of epiphany and
Belyj's use of the aesthetic symbol. For them, any defi
nition of epiphany and symbol is first and foremost a
definition of the novels' structure and the organization
of language. They are units of meaning that create a laby
rinthine network of correspondences with only an elliptical
connective fiber. Through countless associations, epiph
anies and symbols expand to ever widening paradigmatic
possibilities, and then return upon themselves. In this
i
i
manner, the infinitely inclusive and the infinitely minute
t
i
Jare of equal importance: a cosmic view of reality is fused
j
with the common occurances of everyday existence.
I
| Movement in both novels, instead of following a
jcertain line of development, is stilled and expanded about
ja single point in time: the novels proceed by expansion
and agglomeration not by development. The moment in time
is the point from which a retracing of apprehension begins:
construction, reconstruction, and recapitulation are a
means for discovering reality as well as being the creative !
i
process itself. The effects of expansion and agglomeration >
are achieved through analogical juxtaposition of epiphanies j
!
and symbols; juxtaposition provides the artist with a
method of shaping reality that is both critical and drama
tic. The narrator's function, however, in the two novels
is essentially different. In Ulysses, there is a constantly
shifting mode of narration while the author is refined out
of existence. In Petersburg, the narrator is the author
himself: his function is to create, organize, and clarify
the novel for the reader.
i
i
To achieve a structure based on epiphany and symbol,
Joyce and Belyj make use of devices such as the creation
of correspondences through metaphorical analogy, interior
i
imonologue and stream of consciousness, synesthesia, musical
(effects and refrain, leitmotif, linguistic and technical
I
(virtuosity, and an allusive construction. But because of
i
;the narrator's organizational function in Petersburg,
Belyj's use of these devices is narrower, more restricted,
i
'and less varied than Joyce's. Finally, another major
[difference between the two novels is. the "dehumanized"
quality of Belyj's work. The characters are not human
beings but abstract and geometrical forms, and the final
synthesis of disparate elements at the end of Petersburg
produces a much bleaker picture of reality.
CHAPTER I
THE SYMBOLIST MOVEMENT
For both James Joyce and Andrej Belyj the cultural and
historical moment was similar. Both writers were faced with
the breakdown of old forms and conventions. The novel had
reached what seemed to be its summit in the nineteenth cen
tury, but in the last decade of the century, a new spirit,
partially expressed in the Symbolist movement, was felt in
the West as well as in Russia.^ In Joyce's Ulysses and in
Belyj's Petersburg we see the influence of this new spirit.
Both novels are attempts to make the modern world possible
for art. Such a task can be achieved only after an adequate
synthesis of all the dichotomies of modern existence, such
as: past and present, inner and outer, anarchy and culture.
To achieve a union of vision that is structured around
entirety, unity, and expansion rather than dichotomy, Joyce
and Belyj employ aesthetic principles and literary devices
inherited from French symbolist poetry. The use of epiphany
^ See George Reavey in a forward to Andrey Biely,
St. Petersburg, trans. John Cournos, (New York, 1959), p. ix
7
and aesthetic symbol; interior monologue; the creation of
correspondences through metaphorical analogy; suggestion,
evocation, and synesthesia; musical effects and refrain;
linguistic and technical virtuosity; and the allusive con
structions of both novels are aspects more commonly associ-
2
ated with Symbolist poetry rather than with the novel.
This dissertation will investigate the literary devices
inherited by Joyce and Belyj from Symbolist poetry, and how
they were put to work in the. novels Ulysses and Petersburg.
This is not to imply that Joyce and Belyj are derivative;
rather, this study will trace some of the intellectual and
aesthetic ideas that were translated by these two authors
into imaginative fiction. Furthermore, this is not an
influence study. Although both authors lived as "keyless
citizens" in Switzerland during the war years of 1915-1916,
they never met and they did not know each other’s works.
[For this reason, any comparative study of the novels Ulysses
and Petersburg must take into account a case of parallel
development. Therefore, this chapter will examine the out
side forces and influences that created the intellectual
climate of both Joyce's and Belyj's formative years. It
will also isolate those literary devices that will be dis
cussed in more detail in subsequent chapters.
2
Many of these devices are listed by David Hayman,
Joyce et Mallarme, 2 vols., (Paris, 1956), 1, 79ff. Also
see S. L. Goldberg, The Classical Temper (New York, 1961),
■p. 211.
8
In his brief but illuminating study of James Joyce,
Harry Levin points out that no easy distinction can be made
3
between naturalism and symbolism.in Ulysses. Writers at
the beginning of the twentieth century were faced with two
seemingly exclusive choices: "1 'art pour l'art" and "une
tranche de vie.” Joyce and Belyj attempt to come to terms
with both the naturalistic tradition and the symbolistic
reaction. As Harry Levin puts it in regards to Joyce, they
cross the two keys of topography and myth. In their novels
they unite the cross-purposes of the mythmaking quality of
literature and the everyday business of modern life. Any
too easy distinction between symbolism and naturalism, as
for example, symbolist structure versus naturalistic sub
ject, in effect, only defeats the purpose of the two novels.
Joyce's and Belyj's interest in symbolic expression attests
to their attempt to avoid the dichotomy completely, and to
create a union. Therefore, correspondences between macro
cosm and microcosm, musical evocation and suggestiveness,
ellipsis, implication, and the creation of "myth" must be
seen in this light.
Symbolism has to be considered as part of the total
meaning of these novels, while the literary devices in
herited mostly from Symbolist poetry make up their organi
zational patterns and structure. All events and details
3
Harry Levin, James Joyce (Norfolk, 1960).
9
seem to be connected. There is a recurrance of images,
thoughts, and details that are sometimes suggested, while at
other times they are stated explicitly. Commentators have
created the misconception that special and esoteric fields
of knowledge must be acquired before any understanding or
enjoyment can be derived from Ulysses and Petersburg. Also,
that an elaborate special knowledge should be acquired
before we can even begin comprehending Joyce's and Belyj's
literary techniques. Stuart Gilbert writes that it is
"impossible to grasp the meaning of Ulysses, its symbolism
and the significance of its leitmotifs without an under-
4
standing of the esoteric theories which underlie the work."
It has also been suggested that anybody who attempts to
read Belyj's Petersburg, must be equipped with a thorough
knowledge of anthroposophy and its doctrines. Ivanov-
Razumnik states outright that without a knowledge of theos
ophy, it is impossible to understand Belyj's Petersburg.^
But these two novels are not written in an esoteric
language which is available only to initiates. The meaning
of any symbol which is found in these novels is first and
foremost created by the novels themselves. Joyce and Belyj
^ Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce's "Ulysses" (New York,
1952), p. 53.
^ R. J. Ivanov-Razumnik, A. Belyj i^ A. Blok
(Petersburg, 1919), pp. 96-109. See this study for an out
line of the anthroposophic doctrines of Rudolf Steiner and
Vladimir Solovjov’s ideas of Mongolism in the novel.
1C
do not use symbols and images whose meanings must be derived
outside the work and then attributed to it. Epiphanies and
symbols exist only as they are perceived by the characters
and exist only in the reality described; they are not
superimposed from outside. Although it is interesting to
compare their use of symbolism to that of Plato, Blake, Mme.
Blavatsky, Rudolf Steiner, Swedenborg, French symbolists,
and Hermeticists,^ it must be kept in mind that Joyce and
Belyj put symbolism to their own use. There is seemingly
no end to the material that went into the building of
Ulysses and Petersburg, and there are as many interpre
tations and approaches as there are critics. For example,
in the case of Ulysses, Kain documents the realistic fore
ground; Levin, the modern world; Gilbert, the Homeric
7
parallels and occult themes; Tindall, the anagogical.
Much is introduced that is not explained in the novels,
so that they are lifelike and give us the impression that
there are many threads, all of which we cannot follow.
For studies that deal with the influence of the
Hermetic tradition on these two novels, see William York
Tindall, "James Joyce and the Hermetic Tradition," The
Journal of the History of Ideas, X5 (1954), 23-29, and
Helene Hartmann, "Andrej Belyj and the Hermetic Tradition:
A Study of the Novel Petersburg," Piss. Columbia, 1969.
7
Especially Richard M. Kain, Fabulous Voyager: James
Joyce1s Ulysses (New York, 1966); Harry Levin, 0£. cit.;
Stuart Gilbert, op. cit.; William York Tindall, James Joyce,
His Way of Interpreting the Modern World (New York, 1950) .
I l l
Joyce's Ulysses and Belyj's Petersburg strive for, and to a
great extent attain, almost infinite inclusion: from sym
bolism to naturalism, from the characters' apprehensions
and perceptions to the macrocosm, from the intimately per
sonal to the cosmic view of reality. They are neither so
chaotic and haphazard as some readers find them to be, nor
as meticulously contrived as others would have us believe.
There are two forces at work, standing in opposition to each
8
other and creating organizational tension. The first is
one of strict order, based on the interrelationship of
correspondences, associations, and allusions. The second
is a thrust to freedom, expanding outward to wider areas of
significance. The novels are then both dynamic and static.
Yet both forces conform to integritas, consonantia, and
claritas, the three qualities that according to Stephen
Dedalus are essential components of a work of art.
Both Joyce and Belyj strive toward a comprehensive and
simultaneous view of reality. The novels are not organized
around a story, but rather around an intricate structure of
motifs. There is no single active element, but several in
relationship to each other. For this reason, we are not so
much interested in what happens to the hero, as we are in
g
See Richard M. Kain's discussion in "Motif as Meaning:
The Case of Leopold Bloom" in Approaches to Ulysses, eds.
Thomas F. Staley and Bernard Benstock, ("Pittsburg, 1970),
p. 78.
12
observing the performance of the author. However, Ulysses
and Petersburg are not mechanical contrivances; they are
enormous structures containing trifles, accidents, and
errors. In this way, they create the illusion of reality
more successfully than a perfectly created work might. The
reader, even after a third and fourth reading, cannot fully
comprehend the infinite number of motifs and allusions. In
any discussion of these novels, there is always the danger
of either grossly simplifying them, or, on the other hand,
pointing out allusions of such remoteness that they are of
very little interest. How important is it for us to know
that in 1866, which is the year of Bloom's birth and the
year of Hungary's independence, the English ambassador to
q
Vienna was a Lord Bloomfield?
The art of Joyce and Belyj is one of revealing and
concealing. Through suggestion, they create a prismatic
reality of fragments and reflections. In their novels
there are endless possible themes, motifs, correspondences,
analogies, and symbols; that are stated, developed, inter
woven, and retraced. But to say that all the themes of the
novels are connected is to miss the point. Robert Adams
quite correctly raises a good many questions about the
consistency of the symbolism in Ulysses.^ He especially
9
Kain, Approaches, p. 63.
10
Robert M. Adams, Surface and Symbol: The Consistency
of James Joyce's Ulysses (New York, 1962) .
__________________________________________________, __________ 13
calls attention to facts taken randomly from newspapers and
also to Joyce’s dislikes, prejudices, and personal esoteric
jokes. In Ulysses and Petersburg, it is left up to the
reader to choose a strand or some aspect of the novel, and
while participating in the poetic process, to reconstruct it
through individual ingenuity and creative power. Such a
structure in the novels is. achieved through the use of
literary devices inherited from Symbolist poetry.
Joyce from childhood read French literature. Enid
Starkie writes that he had been,
saturated with French literature, and had lived
in Paris. Also he was an Irishman, and this
made him more ready to accept inspiration from
France than from England -- indeed there is
very little of the English tradition in his
writings.
Joyce spent thirty-five of his fifty-nine years in Europe,
of which more than twenty were spent in Paris. In an essay
on Mangan, published in 1902, in Saint Stephen’s, A Record
of University Life, he shows a wide knowledge of the French
symbolist movement, and especially Baudelaire and Verlaine.
Mary Colum states that Joyce knew Baudelaire’s "Correspon-
12
dances" by heart. Joyce's admiration for Verlaine is well
documented. He read Verlaine's Les Poetes Maudits and
^ Enid Starkie, From Gautier to Eliot (London, 1960) ,
p. 187.
12
Mary Colum, Life and Dream (London, 1947).
14
through it he got to know Mallarme and Rimbaud; they were to
influence the formation of his aesthetic doctrine. While
still an undergraduate, Joyce translated poems by Verlaine
as well as by Maeterlinck. Herbert Gorman, in his biog
raphy, prints Joyce's admirable translation of Verlaine's
13
"Chanson d'Automne." Joyce turned to the Symbolists
because in their approach to the work of art and in their
literary devices he saw a way of expressing his own ideas.
A.s he remarked to Frank Budgen, "I want the reader to under
stand always through suggestion rather than direct state-
1 4
tent."
A major influence, that opened up new ideas for Joyce,
15
was The Symbolist Movement in Literature by Arthur Symons.
The book appeared in 1899 and was widely read by university
students in Dublin. C. P. Curran, Joyce's schoolmate,
writes that Symons's work "introduced most of us to the
movement abroad. It was ardently read. . . . Whether thanks
to Symons or not, Joyce had acquaintance with Baudelaire,
Verlaine, and .the Symbolists in his earliest college
16
years." Mary Colum tells us that from Symons, Joyce
13
.. Herbert S. Gorman, James Joyce, His First Forty
Years (New York, 1924).
14
Tindall, James Joyce, p. 110).
Arthur Symons, The Symbolist Movement in Literature
(New York, 1958) .
16
C. P. Curran, James Joyce Remembered (New York,
L968) , p. 31.
_____________________________________ . ____ , ____I S .
"picked up some of his knowledge of the French symbolists,
* 17
particularly Mallarme." According to Hayman, Joyce read
18
Symons's book in 1899; Richard Ellman says it was in
19
1900; while Tindall suggests 1902, the same year Yeats
20
introduced Joyce to Symons. Whatever the year may have
been, the importance of Symonsis book is that it was the
first English introduction to the Symbolist school. Symons,
who was a personal friend of Verlaine, describes the French
symbolist movement as a group of writers who were striving
for a greater subjectivity and for the depiction of sub
jective consciousness. By way of illustration, he provides
many passages from the French writers.
The main characteristics of the French school that
Symons describes in his work, such as: hermetic vision,
decadence, spiritualized naturalism, verbal magic, and the
labyrinthine pattern of their works, are also all components
jof Ulysses. Symons refers to Gerard de Nerval as the first
jsymbolist to use the Smaragdine Tablet of Hermes and to
i
|
jBoehme's "signatures." He quotes Nerval as saying that
j"All things live, all things are in motion, all things
correspond."
^ Life and Dream, p. 129.
18 +
Hayman, James Joyce et Mallarme, I, 27-32.
1 Q
Richard Ellman, James Joyce (New York, 1959), p. 79. ,
i
? n '
William York Tindall, Forces in Modern British
Literature'(New York, 1947), p. 277.
. . .1 6 .
As Joyce mentions in Stephen Hero, he.had read Nerval's
poetry. Furthermore, according to Symons, in En Route,
Huysmans made the discovery that the novel was just as
appropriate a form as verse for great "confessions" and
revelations of the subconscious self. Perhaps it is after
reading Huysmans' En Route, that Joyce saw that the novel
could compete with poetry and could reveal unexplored depths
of the subconscious. We know that Joyce read A Rebour early
\ 21
and La Bas in 1901, and therefore was introduced to deca
dence, life dedicated to art, and the concept of "natural-
isme spritualiste." In The Symbolist Movement in Litera
ture , Symons writes that,
In La-Bas ... he [Huysmans] had, indeed
realized ... that "it is essential to pre
serve the veracity of the document, the
precision of detail, the fibrous nervous
language of Realism, but it is equally
essential to become the well-digger of the
soul and not to attempt to explain what is
mysterious by mental maladies.
... It is essential, in a word, to follow
the great road so deeply dug out by Zola,
but it is necessary also to trace a parallel
pathway in the air, and to grapple with the
within and the after, to create, in a word,
a spiritual Naturalism."22
Mallarme's definition of his own work as "a labyrinth
illuminated by flowers" could also be a definition of the
art of Ulysses. Mallarme anticipates the insights and
radiance of Joyce's epiphany by suggesting that in this
^ Hayman, James Joyce et Mallarme, 1, p. 32.
2 2
Symons, p. 13 7.
17]
world it might be possible to discover "all the correspon
dences of the universe, the supreme Music." We know that
Joyce read Mallarme: during his stay in Trieste, between
1904 and 1914, he read Divagations and most of Mallarme's
works. Divagations was especially important in shaping his
23
literary theories. It was during this period that Joyce
worked on his Epiphanies; these flashes of life have a great
deal in common with Rimbaud's Illuminations. Both Joyce and
Mallarme wanted to purify the words of the tribe through
synaesthesia and musical language. As Mallarme puts it in
"Le Tombeau d'Edgar Poe," he wanted to give "un sens plus
pur aux mots de la tribu."
Beyond specific influences, Joyce must have been in
fected by the new spirit of Symbolism simply because it was
part of the European intellectual climate of that time. In
Europe, and especially in Paris, he encountered the new
spirit in discussions, newspapers, journals, and manifestos.
He was probably aware of The Symbolist Manifesto (1886) by
Jean Moreas. Certainly there are other important influ
ences. The symbols of Ibsen's later plays and especially
The Master Builder and The Wild Duck were well known to
Joyce. As Tindall puts it: "Nothing can be more mysterious
23 &
For a comparison of Joyce and^Mallarme, see Hayman,
James Joyce et Mallarme, as well as Herbert Marshall McLuhan
"Joyce, Aquinas, and the Poetic Process, "Renascence, ;.4
(1951), 3-11. Both authors mention Joyce's theoretical
debts to Mallarme, but do not develop the point.
18
or suggestive than a builder falling from his tower or a
24
duck in the attic.” In a notebook, dated 1919, Joyce
notes the authors who interested him most and from whom he
copied entire passages. These include Mallarme, Rimbaud,
and Leon Bloy; the only English author mentioned is Walter
Pater.
Boris Bugaev, who was born in 1880, chose the pen name
of Andrej Belyj; the name means "Andrew the White.” His
father was a famous professor of mathematics at the Univer
sity of Moscow. Belyj at first studied natural sciences at
the university, but soon abandoned his academic pursuits
and turned his attention to philosophy. Of special interest
to him were the writings of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. At
the beginning of the century he was associated with a group
called "Argonauts.” The common goal of this group was to
acquaint itself with the new trends of Western culture.
Belyj was not only a poet, but also a scholar, whose range
of interest was vast; he was cosmopolitan and his interests
were universal.
The Russian Symbolist movement began to develop in
Russia in the 1890’s, when many writers sought to replace
positivism, utilitarianism, and materialism with a new
2 5
idealism. It is at this time that the attention of
24
James Joyce, p. 113.
2 S
For a comparison of Western and Russian Symbolism,
see Renato Pogioli, The Poets of Russia (Cambridge, 1960),
pp. 128-141.
_____________________________________________ ILL
Russian poetry turned to France, and the young poets devoted
their interests to the writers and thinkers of modern Europe
Of chief interest were such French poets as Gautier,
s 7 f t
Baudelaire, Mallarme, Verlaine, and Rimbaud. An important
source for the new ideas that were to infect Russian litera
ture, were the periodicals. The literary journal The
Scales, under the editorship of Valerij Brjusov, existed
from 1905 to 1909. It published not only Russian writers,
but also the direct contributions of such Western authors
as Maurice Maeterlinck, Jean Moreas, Remy de Gourmont, and
Emile Verharen. Also included were such thinkers as
Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, and playwrites such as Ibsen and
Strindberg. A periodical mainly concerned with the visual
arts was The World of Art, which was published in Petersburg
from 1899 to 1904. Under the editorship of Sergej Djagilev,
it presented Russian painters such as Isaak Levitan,
Valentin Serov, and Mikhail Vrubel, as well as new works and
aesthetic ideas from Europe. If The Scales introduced a
generation to a new sense of literary values, The World of
Art did the same for visual art. Also, it is at this time
that the wealthy Russian merchants Schukin and Morozov were
buying up the paintings of the Impressionists and Post-
Impressionists and bringing them to Russia.
9 f t
See Georgette Donchin, The Influence of French
Symbolism on Russian Poetry (The Hague, 1958).
20
The writers of Belyj's generation sought a new means of
expression that was based on a synthesis of language, liter
ary form, human consciousness, and new scientific discover
ies. They also attempted to renovate prose and the novel.
The development of the Symbolist aesthetic in Russia pro
vided a basis for notable changes in the themes and
structural conventions of the nineteenth century novel.
Novelists in their works depicted reality as a private, sub
jective experience. To express their vision, they borrowed
the literary devices of poetry. Spatial organization,
rather than chronological time, was emphasized, and authors
concentrated on depicting the inner contours of experience.
The reader, confronted with a prismatic view of reality
without the customary connective fiber of plot, had to par
ticipate more actively in the creative process. Perhaps the
greatest achievement of these experiments was Belyj's
Petersburg. With this novel, Belyj makes a complete break
with nineteenth century prose, literally explodes its themes
and conventions, and introduces new stylistic standards.
Belyj's ability to apply the devices of Symbolist poetry to
prose singles him out as a true innovator in Russian liter
ature. This achievement alone suggests comparison with
other European writers of that time who were also concerned
with the rejuvenation of prose.
Belyj began his literary career as a poet in prose.
The four Symphonies, written between 1900 and 1908, are
21
prose poems of ambitious scope. Their structure is based on
the principle of musical composition, consisting of phonetic
and rhythmical effects and intricate patterns of refrains
and leitmotifs. In these works, Beljy also experiments with
2 7
interior monologue and synesthesia. The devices used to
write the four Symphonies were to remain characteristic
features of Belyj's mature prose works. After turning to
verse and publishing several collections, Belyj for awhile
abandoned lyric poetry for fiction. His three major novels
are The Silver Dove (1910), Petersburg (1912), and Kotik
Letaev (1917-1918) which was written shortly after his
return from Switzerland. Toward the end of his life he
again turned to verse and to criticism.
In his critical works, Belyj was not a narrow aesthet-
ican, but was preoccupied with the problems of what he
called "the crisis of culture." In The Crisis of Culture
28
(Krizis Kul'tury) Belyj opposes two kinds of writers: the
one who faces the real rhythm of his era and the one who
locks himself in his study. For the latter there is no
salvation and he will be destroyed. Belyj hoped to reveal
the contrary forces of modern existence. While Joyce in
2 7
For a discussion of Belyj’s Symphonies, see Gleb
Struve, "Andrej Belyj's Experiments with Novel Technique,
Stil und Formprobleme in der Literatur (Heidelberg, 1959) .
2 8 v
Andrej Belyj, Na Perevale. Krizis zizni, Krizis
mysli, Krizis Kul1tury~XBerlin-Petersburg-Moscow, 1923) .
22
Ulysses uses an ancient Greek myth to reveal the conscious
ness of a Christian world, Belyj in Petersburg uses a city
planned on the European model to expose the "Eastern" and
violent forces that lie beneath the surface. Belyj con
sidered Symbolism to be a synthesis of all previous
traditions. According to him, it is Realism insofar as it
reflects reality; Romanticism insofar as it presents a
reflection of reality corrected by experience; and it is
Classicism, because it has the capacity to unify form and
29
content. Another essential characteristic of Symbolism is
its attempt to express the deepest levels of subjective
consciousness. Symbols are images that reflect the inner
perceptions of his characters.
Petersburg, if compared to Symbolist poetry, is a more
detailed, a more extensive description of the subjective
experience. It is an attempt to go beyond the fragments of
experience and to test the very limits of expressibility.
In the novel, the representation of the mind falls together
with the representation of the world. Descriptions are
fragmented, emphasizing simultaneity, totality of experi
ence, and sound. The reader is frequently left with the
task of forming coherent scenes from seemingly unconnected
fragments and vague suggestions provided by the narrator.
Belyj writes that, "Succinctness is an essential feature of
29
Andrej Belyj, Simvolizm (Moscow, 1910).
23
art; it is better not to state completely (nedoskazat')
30
than to overstate (pereskazat’)." He rates music as the
highest of arts and strives for the simultaneous communi
cation of disparate elements, which music alone is able to
achieve. Belyj feels that the symbolic sound of words had
been lost and that the task of poetry is to recapture the
31
"original freshness of the word." Therefore, in
Petersburg, Belyj experiments with the emancipation of syn
tax, the varieties of diction; and explores the potential of
pun, neologism, metric patterns, and typographic elements.
The importance of style for Belyj is in its use as the "non
verbal accompaniment to the verbal expression of poetic
32
images." Its function is to heighten the aesthetic impact
of words.
As Victor Erlich puts it, Belyj goes "from the ’Forest
33
of Symbols' to the 'Self-Valuable Word.’" Along with
Vechislav Ivanov, Belyj was the chief theoretican of the
Russian Symbolist movement, and like Verlaine and Mallarme,
he was preoccupied with evolving a new form of poetic
expression. One of the main aspects of Russian Symbolism
30
Simvolizm, p. 157.
31 Ibid., p. 14.
32 Ibid., p. 154.
33
Victor Erlich, Russian Formalism: History-Doctrine
(The Hague, 1969), pp. 33-50.
24
was a concern with the word itself. Poets wished to do away
with the dichotomy of form and content and the notion that
form is but the outward manifestation of content. The word
did not merely point to an object, but rather suggested it
through "verbal magic." It therefore became imperative to
concentrate on poetic form and to investigate poetic tech
niques. Belyj's essay "Lyric Poetry as Experiment" (Lirika
kak eksperiment) is indicative.34 In it he attempts to
define the empirical laws of verse structure. In Rhythm
as Dialectics (Ritm kak dialektika), the distinction between
35
meter and rhythm is discussed. This work is also an
interesting attempt to combine the Symbolist aesthetic with
Marxian dialectics. Finally, in his critical statements,
Belyj exhibits an awareness that each literary school has
its own "poetics," and he even attempts to approach Russian
poetics as an exact science by applying statistical tech
niques to the study of verse.
Much went into the making of Ulysses and Petersburg.
Besides the influence of the Symbolist aesthetic on these
two novels, it is possible to point out the importance of
such works as Goethe's Faust, Gogol's Dead Souls, and espe
cially the complexity and multiple significance of Dante's
Inferno. However, the allusive construction of Ulysses and
34
Simvolizm, pp. 231-285.
35
Andrej Belyj , Ritm kak dialektika j i "Mednyj vsadnik"
(Moscow, 1929) .
________________ 25
and Petersburg is such, that it appropriates the visions of
these earlier works and contrasts it to contemporary society
and to the experience of modern life. One of the dreams of
the Symbolists was the universal poem which was to be of
epic proportions. Mallarme made a distinction between the
poem and "L!Oeuvre." Yet to write such a work, it was not
only necessary to have a vast' knowledge of traditions and
conventions, but also to have a familiarity with the affairs
and problems of the age. The novels Ulysses and Petersburg
are to a great extent an attempt to fulfill this dream.
Harry Levin describes Joyce’s familiarity with the intellec
tual and artistic problems of the age when he writes that
Ulysses reflects "the montage of cinema, impressionism in
painting, leit-motif in music, the free association of
*7 / r
psycho-analysis, and vitalism in philosophy."
As exiles and "keyless citizens," both Joyce and Belyj
are deeply critical of contemporary society. Like Flaubert
before them, they have a keen ear for all levels of cliches
and delight in language, mockery of pretensions, and parody.
Joyce and Belyj share a dislike of the bourgeois, claim that
they are in no way a part of it, and yet, they are fasci
nated by urban existence and modern technology. In Ulysses,
Bloom's hopes of catching sight of a silk stocking are
frustrated by a honking tram. Later, in the mist of night
3 6
James Joyce, p. 89.
26
town, Bloom is almost run over by two cyclists and again by
the same tram. Nannetti, to make himself heard in the
"Aeolus" episode, deftly slips his words into the pauses of
the clanking presses. In this way his life is governed by
the rhythm of the machine. Evidences of modern technology
in Petersburg are mostly negative. Dudkin barely avoids two
headlights that rush toward him; they are described as
yellow Mongolian mugs. Factory chimneys encircle Petersburg
and imprison it like the bars of a jail cell window. Night
scenes in Petersburg are illuminated by flashing signboards
and there are several descriptions of the electric beauty of
the commercial city. "Along the sides of the street, the
flickering lights of the signs played: here, here, and here
ruby flames suddenly flared; there emeralds flashed. A
moment; there are rubies; emeralds, here, here, and here."
(46) The most forcefullvexpression of modern technology is
of course the bomb, whose clockwork mechanism is the same as
the devices by which the characters of the novel measure
their lives. Throughout the novel there is a duality of
feeling for the bomb -- revulsion and fascination.
However, developments in the sciences, as well as phi
losophy, psychology, cinema, painting, and music created the
intellectual climate that nurtured the creation of Ulysses
and Petersburg. Max Plank's radiation law, Ernest
Rutherford's principle of alpha-particle scattering, and
Joseph Thomson's work with electricity and radioactivity
27
gave a new direction to aesthetics. Palpable reality was
literally breaking up into uncertain and flimsy fragments
of invisible particles and waves. Bergson's concepts of
time and the flow of consciousness as well as William
James's writings on psychology also made an important
impact. In psychology there were explorations into depth
psychology, word association, and dream symbols. It is not
important whether or not Joyce and Belyj read these authors
directly, but rather that these ideas were very much a part
of the intellectual world of that time.
In both Ulysses and Petersburg the concept of relativ
ity is present, and the reality described in these two
novels changes as it is perceived by various characters at
various times. Belyj calls this concept "cerebral play,"
and in Petersburg it is defined in terms of a pun. The
rational, "Western" father is a follower of Comte (Kont);
while the mystical, "Eastern" son is a follower of Kant
(Kant). Their perceptions and their attitudes toward each
other are to a great extent defined by the pun Kont/Kant.
Of major importance, then, is point of view. The intrusive
author is rejected by Joyce. He insists on telling the
story from the point of view of one of his characters, or on
just having one of the characters tell the story. There
fore, Joyce developed techniques by which he could view the
world through the eyes and mind of one of his characters.
28
Joyce's use of "monologue interieur" is an extension of the
techniques employed by Flaubert and Edouard Dujardin.
One of Joyce's chief affinities is with Flaubert. In
1857 Flaubert had written that "An artist must be in his
work like God in creation, invisible and all-powerful: he
37
should be everywhere felt, but nowhere seen." Joyce
restates this aesthetic principle when he has Stephen tell
Lynch that "The artist, like the God of the creation, \
remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork,
3 8
paring his fingernails." It is on this point that Belyj's
Petersburg differs from Joyce's Ulysses most significantly.
Belyj tends toward what might be called an "oral" monologue.
The narrator mediates between author and reader and the
story is told in such a way as to approximate patterns of
actual speech. Such a technique also, has an important
effect on Belyj's use of interior monologue and synesthesia.
Painters as well as writers were concerned with the
creation of new styles which would approximate their per
sonal visions. The individual struggle for style and the
different results that were achieved are evident if we com
pare the paintings of Manet, Seurat, and Cezanne. Painters
were also concerned with the principle of simultaneity.
37
The Selected Letters of Gustave Flaubert, trans.
and ed. Francis Seegmuller, (London, 1954), p. 186.
38
James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young
Man (New York, 1962), p. 215.
29
This,concern is certainly not a new one in art, but the
devices these artists experimented with to a great extent
are. An example of simultaneity are Seurat’s paintings,
where the eye synthesizes the individual dabs and dots.
When we translate this concern into literary terms a problem
arises: A moment in time is multidimensional while language
is linear. In the nineteenth century especially, writers
'
had experimented with techniques and literary devices that
might overcome the linear nature of language. A notable
example is Flaubert's attempt to approximate simultaneity
in Madame Bovary when he intersperses the conversation of
the two lovers with the events of the county fair. Joyce
states the problem in the Portrait when he writes that "An
aesthetic image is presented to us either in space or in
time. What is audible is presented in time, what is visible
is presented in space.
Both the Symbolists and the Impressionists clung to a
delicate balance between subjective impressions and realism.
Their attempt to fuse realism and lyricism and their insis
tence on the depiction of subjective experience, helps us
understand Joyce's concept of epiphany. Impressionists
were also concerned with recording "delicate and evanescent
moments." The instance these moments were illuminated in
their minds, they strove to capture them on their canvases
Portrait, p. 212.
30
in a few brush strokes. The Impressionists were interested
in the reflection of consciousness and sensations well
before The Symbolist Manifesto. Their ideas were evident
not only in what they painted, but also in what they wrote. ^
In their paintings they rely on the individual dab or dot
of mostly pure color. The impact of minute impressions on
the mind and eye creates a form from countless brushstrokes
rather than from a preconceived outline of the object.
From the fragmentation of images and the dissolution of the
solid world of appearences, a new order arises, that depends
on the mind of the artist and the perceiver. The source of
both chaos and unity is then the mind. The break up and
recombination of the elements of visual experience becomes
a means for symbolizing a reality that depends on the intel
lectual collaboration of the beholder. Often, however, the
recombination of these symbols is not an easy task and the
symbols are not always easily interpreted. Rimbaud said
of his own work: "Je reservais la traduction."
In the fragmentation of reality and the attempt at
simultaneity, both Joyce and Belyj anticipate many of the
devices of cinema. Sergei Eisenstein's discussion of mon
tage in Film Sense is similar to Joyce's definition of
epiphany.
Before the inner vision, before the per
ception of the creator, hovers a given image,
emotionally embodying his theme. The task
that confronts him is to transform this image
31
into a few basic partial representations
which, in their combination and juxta
position, shall evoke in the consciousness
and feelings of the spectator, reader, or
auditor, the same initial general image
which originally hovered before the creative
artist.40
Montage, therefore, creates a sensation or meaning not
proper to the images themselves but from their juxtaposi
tion. Harry Levin comments that Bloom's mind is:
... neither a tabula rasa nor a photographic
plate, but a motion picture, which has been
ingeniously cut and carefully edited to empha
size close-ups and fade outs of flickering
emotion, the angles of observation and the
flashback of reminiscence. In its intimacy
and its continuity, Ulysses has more, in common
with cinema than with other fiction. The move
ment of Joyce's style, the thought of his
characters, is like unreeling film; his method
of construction, the arrangement of his raw
material, involves the crucial operation of
montage.41
Eisenstein also writes on the inadequacy of "orthodox"
literature to present "the whole course of thought through
a disturbed mind" and points out Joyce's interest in film.
... if literature can do it, it is only a litera
ture that breaks through the limits of its
orthodox enclosure. Literature's most brilliant
achievement in this field has been the immortal
"inner monologues" of Leopold Bloom in Ulysses.
When Joyce and I met in Paris, he was intensely
interested in my plans for the inner film-mono-
logue, with far broader scope than is afforded
by literature.
40
Sergei Eisenstein, Film Sense, trans. and ed. Jay
Leyda, (New York, 1947), pp. 30-31. Italics in the origi
nal .
41
Levin, James Joyce, p. 88.
32
Despite his almost blindness, Joyce wished
to see those parts of Potemkin and October
that, with the expressive means of film culture,
move along kindred lines [with Joyce’s work].42
Eisenstein, however, does not mention Belyj. Both in theory
and practice, Belyj anticipated many of the devices employed
and formulated by his compatriot. In Simvolizm, Belyj
writes that "A mental image is a momentary photograph; the
sequence of mental images is a series of such photographs
43
defined by a beginning and end."
In Ulysses and Petersburg themes and allusions are pre
sented as fragments in different parts of the novels. These
fragments have to be assimilated before understanding can
be arrived at. Therefore, the reader must help to create
these works by reconstructing them for himself. It is only
through the relation of parts to the whole that plot, struc
ture, and even language become coherent. Time is immobi
lized; past and present, through association, are present
at once. Characters and objects are arrested in space while
their various parts are examined simultaneously. In this
way, the temporal aspects of narrative in these novels are
replaced by spacial examination. An image or character is
dissected, the fragments are scrutinized and then recreated.
This process of dissecting and rearranging an image is a
42
Sergei Eisenstein, Film Forum: Essays in Film
Theory, trans. and ed. Jay Leyda~ (New York, 1949), p. 104.
^ Simvolizm, p. 165,
__________________________________________ 35;
creative act and Stephen Dedalus refers to it as vivi-
44
section. In Ulysses, using this procedure, Stephen recon
structs Shakespeare’s life and plays from various fragments.
The creative act is formulated by Stephen when he affirms
his significance ”as a conscious rational reagent between a
micro- and a macrocosm ineluctably constructed upon the
incertitude of the void." (697)
The breaking up of the world of appearance into frag
ments, the rearrangement of these fragments according to a
new order, indefiniteness, and suggestion are character
istics that Joyce and Belyj share with the Impressionists.
However, the concern of these two authors with formal and
structural devices links them with the Post-Impressionists.
It was Cezanne who pointed out that the artist must concen
trate on stylistic and structural design, and must not copy
nature, but rather, reshape it according to his own sensi
bility. In Ulysses and Petersburg a rhythmical order is
achieved through geometrization. Squares, angles, spheres,
circles, curves, triangles, lines, cubes, cones, and pyra
mids are essential to the structure of these novels. The
use of cyclic imagery is a means of creating a synthesis
which is not bound by time. Both Joyce and Belyj create
labyrinths of consciousness that expand into images of
circles and cycles. The tendency of every circle is to
transform itself into a cycle and to expand in all
44
James Joyce, Stephen Hero (New York, 1944), p. 186.
_______________________________________ 3A
directions from a microcosmic center. A circle moves from
the simplest object to the remotest spheres. Any microcos
mic dot has the capability of expanding into the cycles of
the macrocosm. Essential to this principle is the notion
of radiance: things form themselves, grow out of the flat
surface of the page, and then diminish again. The final
movement is one of a dissolution into nothingness and the
metamorphosis of the circle of life into a new stage.
In Ulysses, an illusory perspective is created with
the images of straight lines moving in centrifugal and
centripetal directions. They reach out from Bloom and then
return.
Retreating, at the terminus of the Great
Northern Railway, Amiens street, with constant
uniform acceleration, along parallel lines
meeting at infinity, if produced: along paral
lel lines reproducing from infinity, with
constant uniform retardation at the terminus
of the Great Northern Railway, Amiens street
returning. (730)
Both authors are concerned with surfaces and create flat
perspectives of pattern and design. Such an approach leads
logically to cubism. In Petersburg, Apollon Apollonovic is
obsessed with geometric forms. It becomes increasingly
more and more difficult to separate him from the cubes and
geometric shapes that form his environment. While climbing
a stairway, he is pleased with the angles his legs describe;
he in fact becomes a cubist painting.
Cubism and abstract art are the visual and plastic
33J
equivalents of what the Symbolists considered "pure poetry."
Pure poetry implies a disassociation of sound and sense and
the use of the pure sense of a word as an artist might use
pure color. Both Joyce and Belyj experimented with the
creative power of words, and both revolted against a ready
made language and traditional forms. They were interested
in the suggestive and evocative power of words, and strove
for a unification of impression and effect. Both felt that
any physical effect may be duplicated by means of language.
The theory that fiction should not state, but suggest and
evoke; not name, but create mood, is inherent in their
works. Ulysses evokes both character and setting. But
setting is mostly established in the minds of the characters
and is usually named but not described. Joyce and Belyj
approach things indirectly through allusion, association,
analogy, and correspondence. To go beyond physical reality
and to extend their range of vision, they reduce punctua
tion, use neologisms, disregard syntax, and construct
elaborate arrangements of rhythms and images. For example,
the rhythmic reappearance of the sound "tap" in the "Sirens"
episode, creates an atmosphere of expectation. In this way,
both Joyce and Belyj achieve through the repetition of
words the same effect that a painter might with colored
dots .
Words, therefore, do more than reveal a reality -- they
create it. Rather than describing and explaining they
36
suggest and evoke. In his famous sonnet "Correspondances,”
Baudelaire suggests not only the transcendental value of
words and symbols, but also their capability of connecting
senses. Synesthesia is the confusion of senses, so we can
taste music, feel color, and hear smells. The notion of
synesthesia was used by the Symbolists in their poetry, and
it was Rimbaud who claimed that he had discovered the color
of vowels. Joyce and Belyj describe the subjective inter
play between feelings and the senses. In Ulysses, Stephen
"could hear, of course, all kinds of words changing colour,"
(644) and shortly afterwards he thinks of black vowels.
Synesthesia is an attempt to rise above the original, logi
cal use of language and to purify it. With synesthesia the
author is able to strip words of meaning and to create a
new language that speaks to all the senses at once. As
Rimbaud puts it, "Je me flattai dfinventer un verbe poetique
accessible un jour ou 1'autre a tous les sens." In their
novels, Joyce and Belyj are aware of the correspondences
%
between the arts as well as between the senses. The trans
lation of moods and images from one medium into another is
a trend toward synthesis: the mingling of the arts and the
fusion of genres.
Because of its capability of communicating directly,
the Symbolists considered music to be the ideal condition
of art. The Symbolist's notion of music is important not
only because they used words for their sound quality and
37
suggestive power rather than meaning, but also because they
appropriated the very forms and technical devices of music.
The impact of Wagner's music was great both on the Symbol
ists as well as on Joyce and Belyj. An essential technique
adopted by both authors is the Wagnerian concept of leit
motif. Joyce credited the novel of Edouard Dujardin, Les
Lauriers sont Coupes with the initial inspiration for the
narrative technique of Ulysses. Dujardin attributed his
own development of the leitmotif technique to the operas of
Wagner. Wagner was a great favorite of the Symbolists and
contributed to their theory and practice. Dujardin himself
was the editor of La. Revue Wagnerienne, which was founded
in 1885.
In The Symbolist Movement in Literature, Symons writes
that Mallarme felt that it was his own failure not to be
Wagner. Wagner was certainly an important influence on
Joyce, and Joyce's work is comparable to Wagner's in scope
and immensity.^ There are numerous references to Wagner
Ulysses. Stephen's ashplant sword is but one example.
In his book on Russian poetry, Pogiolli writes that "in an
even more extreme form than its French counterpart, Russian
Symbolism primarily represents, among the main trends of
modern poetry, the one which aims at fashioning its own
45
For a more detailed study of Joyce's debt to Wagner,
see William Blissett, "James Joyce in the Smithy of his
Soul," in James Joyce Today, ed Thomas Staley, (Bloomington,
1966), pp. 99-134.
38
formal ideal after the pattern of the musical one."^
Belyj, like Dujardin, was influenced by Wagner's use of
leitmotif. In his memoires, Belyj mentions Wagner as one of
the many composers whose music had influenced the writing of
the Symphonies. He writes that he had wanted to deal with
phrases "as Wagner had dealt with melody.It is inter
esting that independently, both Marcel Proust and Thomas
Mann were developing similar techniques of leitmotif by
1904.
Joyce and Belyj use a musical development that
approaches the symphonic in structure. The effect produced
is one of mathematical precision coupled with the ipdefi-
niteness of music. In Ulysses and Petersburg rhythmic prose
is used along with contrapuntal composition, and there is
constant recapitulation in the manner of theme and varia
tion. The entire "Circe" episode is a review of the day's
events seen as a hallucination. The "Wandering Rocks"
section is a model of the entire novel on a smaller scale.
Epiphanies function at all levels to turn the reader's
attention back on the events that have already occured, and
to reconstruct these events in a new light. Examples are
the epiphanies at the end of each chapter, and at a higher
46
Poggioli, The Poets of Russia, p. 131.
4 7 v
Andrej Belyj, Mezdu dvux revoljucij (Leningrad,
1939), p. 137.
39
level, Molly's soliloquy, that helps the reader understand
the events of the day and then points to the beginning of
the novel. Other forms of recapitulation are the overture
in the "Sirens" section that predicts the themes of the
chapter, the events of the day being recounted in the
Evening Telegraph, (647) and Bloom's list of itemized expen
ditures. (711) In the same manner, Belyj delights in
creating images within images and patterns of symbols that
are developed and then recapitulated. The masquerade ball
restates all the basic themes and symbols of the novel,
while the central symbol of the bomb contains within its
structure the entire novel of Petersburg.
The experience of reading Joyce's Ulysses and Belyj's
Petersburg is one of multiple significance created by ver
bal dexterity. The technique is both akin to music in the
development of themes and to a mosaic with contrasting
colors on a single plane. Associations are not always on
the conscious level, but they do carry with them the sense
of things familiar and "deja vu." Relations of meaning are
similar to the relations of harmony. The rapid transitions
from one impression to another is akin to the techniques of
Debussy and Ravel in music, as well as to the Impressionists
in painting. However, \vhat is important, is not so much the
aesthetic problems that initiated Ulysses and Petersburg,
40
but the response to the challenge of these problems, the
techniques and devices used to attempt a solution, and how
these devices were put to work by Joyce and Belyj.
41
CHAPTER II
EPIPHANY AND SYMBOL
James Joyce and Andrej Belyj share a common aesthetic
foundation. The movement of European and especially French
Symbolism was instrumental in the development of their
aesthetic theories of epiphany and symbol. In their novels
Ulysses and Petersburg, both Joyce and Belyj developed the
subjective experiences of their characters in a new and
original manner, and demonstrated that the Symbolist aes
thetic could be extended beyond the framework of the move
ment itself. For them, any definition of epiphany or
aesthetic symbol is also a definition of a novel's structure
and the organization of language. Epiphany in Ulysses is
the projection of Stephen Dedalus' three stages of appre
hension (wholeness, harmony, and radiance) as being parallel
to the creation of a work of art. The meaning of an
epiphany is created by the structure of Ulysses and vice
versa. Epiphany is both an illumination of subjective con
sciousness as well as a revelation of the novel's organi
zational design. Any discussion of Belyj's use of the
aesthetic symbol in Petersburg must take into account its
42
creative capabilities and unifying powers. It is a unit of
meaning within the novel that reveals subjective conscious
ness while creating constantly shifting patterns of
associations. Epiphany and the aesthetic symbol in the
novels Ulysses and Petersburg create a labyrinthine network
of correspondences and associations that are united through
the creative power of the "Word."
It is always dangerous to judge an author by his own
theories. In Joyce's case it is doubly dangerous, since
the theories appear as an integral part of a work of art and
we must approach Joyce's art theoretically through Stephen's
aesthetic. However, if used carefully and if both appli
cation and modifications are kept sight of, Stephen's
aesthetic can provide a useful structure. Harry Levin was
the first to discover the theory of epiphany, developed in
Stephen Hero and nowhere else, and apply it to Joyce's
work.1 In Stephen Hero it is the narrator who first intro
duces the term "epiphany." He describes how Stephen over
hears a flirtatious conversation between a young lady and
a young gentleman on Eccles Street.
The Young Lady— ( drawling descreetly) ...
0, yes ... I was ... at the ... cha ... pel ...
The Young Gentleman (inaudibly) ... I ...
(again inaudibly) ... I ...
The Young Lady (softly) ... 0 ... but
you're ... ve ... ry ... wick ... ed ...
1 Harry Levin, James Joyce (Norfolk, 1960),.especially
pages 28-31.
43
The narrator then adds that,
This triviality made him think of collec
ting many such moments together in a book of
epiphanies. By an epiphany he meant a sudden
spiritual manifestation, whether in the vul
garity of speech or of gesture or in a
memorable phase of the mind itself. He believed
that it was for the man of letters to record
these epiphanies with extreme care, seeing that
they themselves are the most delicate and
evanescent of moments.2
At this point Stephen begins to work out a literary
technique and descriptive term called "epiphany.” Epiphany
is a spiritual manifestation, and is associated with the
feast of the Epiphany and with the star which symbolized the
spiritual illumination that led the Magi to the Christ
child. Although Stephen does not necessarily mean the show
ing forth of Christ to the Magi, it is a useful metaphor;
especially if the radiant design of the guiding star is kept
in mind. Rather, epiphany is the shining forth which might
be found in either "the vulgarity of speech or of gesturd' or
in a "memorable phase of the mind itself."
There is, however, a built in assumption that external
phenomena will be "vulgar." The observer is a "man of
letters" and is somehow superior to external, vulgar reality.
By observing or by recording these epiphanies with extreme
care, the "man of letters" transforms them into "the most
delicate and evanescent of moments." Stephen's thoughts at
2
James Joyce, Stephen Hero (New York, 1944), p. 211.
44j
this point are very close to the ideas of the symbolist
movement and to fin de siecle aestheticism. With his Neo-
Platonic treatment of epiphany as merely a spiritual
manifestation, he is still rooted in the 19th century.
Later these notions will be discarded by Stephen in the
Portrait.
To explain still further, Stephen relates epiphany to
his aesthetic theory, which in turn is borrowed from
Aquinas. But despite a terminology that is adopted from
Thomistic philosophy, Stephen's aesthetic does not have a
theological meaning nor does it represent the spiritual
vision of Christianity. As he had done earlier with the
notion of epiphany, Stephen appropriates a certain termi
nology without incorporating the metaphysics. Cranly
remarks that Stephen's aesthetic has the true scholastic
3
stink. Epiphany as presented to Cranly in Stephen Hero
and to Lynch in the Portrait^ is a static beauty according
to the definition of Aquinas, "ad pulchritudinem tria
requiruntur: integritas, consonantia, claritas ." The
three aesthetic principles that are essential for beauty
are wholeness, harmony, and radiance. Stephen explains
integras as wholeness, consonantia as harmony and rhythm of
^ Stephen Hero, pp. 212-213.
4
James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young
Man (New York, 1962), pp. 211-212.
45
structure, claritas as radiance. He admits that he is
puzzled by the meaning of claritas, but adds that the iden
tification of radiance and quidditas has solved his
difficulty. Claritas is equated with quidditas or the
"whatness of a thing" and quidditas becomes the essential
link between Stephen's aesthetic theory and the notion of
ephiphany.
--Now for the third quality. For a long time
I couldn't make out what Aquinas meant. He
uses a figurative word (a very unusual thing
for him) but I have solved it. Claritas is
quidditas. After the analysis which discovers
the second quality the mind makes the only
logically possible synthesis and discovers the
third quality. This is the moment which I
call epiphany. First we recognize that the
object is one integral thing, then we recognize
that it is an organised composite structure, a
thing in fact: finally, when the relation of
the parts is exquisite, when the parts are
adjusted to the special point, we recognize
that it is that thing which it is. Its soul,
its whatness, leaps to us from the vestment
of its appearance. The soul of the commonest
object, the structure of which is so adjusted,
seems to us radiant. The object achieves its
epiphany.5
As defined by Stephen, epiphany is the third phase of
aesthetic apprehension. After wholeness and harmony of the
object are apprehended, its radiance becomes clear.
Ephipany is the sudden "revelation of the whatness of a
thing," the moment in which "the soul of the commonest
object ... seems to us radiant." Through a flash of
^ Stephen Hero, p. 213.
46
intellectual insight the revelation of inner significance
becomes clear by means of outward appearance. Accordingly,
if we take into account Stephen’s notion of static beauty,
the radiance or showing forth of a thing is revealed at an
unmoving moment of time. Although the moment can include
other moments it is essentially timeless.
By this time one is most impressed by the sketchiness
and vagueness of Stephen's theory. Stephen is still pre
occupied with epiphany as spiritual manifestation. Many
questions need answering: is the soul radiant or does it
seem to be radiant; what is adjusted and by whom; epiphany
depends on the perceiver, but the object achieves its
epiphany; what is the reaction of the observer and is there
any change in him? Furthermore, by introducing the "man of
letters" Stephen is also concerned with the incorporation
of epiphany into a literary form. Therefore the problem is
as much literary as it is metaphysical.
In Stephen Hero the dual faculties of selection and
reproduction are said to be an artist's essential attri
butes. He must be able to "disentangle the subtle soul of
the image from its mesh of defining circumstances" and to
"re-embody it in artistic circumstances chosen., as the most
exact for it."^ In terms of epiphany, the first step is
the ability to recognize the moment when the essence of a
^ Stephen Hero, pp. 77-78.
47
character or situation is revealed -- the manifestation.
The second is the verbal technique with which this moment
is captured in fiction -- the creative process. But in
Stephen Hero the notion of epiphany is not yet related to
the creative process. Both the questions raised by epiphany
as a metaphysical phenomena and the problems of its repre
sentation by the artist are made somewhat clearer in the
Portrait.
The definitions of beauty in Stephen Hero and the
Portrait are virtually identical to the point where Stephen
identifies claritas with quidditas. In the Portrait, how
ever, the discussion that follows is different and the final
synthesis is not called epiphany.
The connotation of the word -- Stephen said
-- is rather vague. Aquinas used a term which
seems to be inexact. It baffled me for a long
time. It would lead you to believe that he had
in mind symbolism or idealism, the supreme
quality of beauty being a light from some other
world, the idea of which the matter was but the
shadow, the reality of which was but the symbol.
I thought he might mean that claritas was the
artistic discovery and the representation of
the divine purpose in anything or the force of
generalization which would make the esthetic
image a universal one, make it outshine its
proper condition. But that is literary talk.
I understand it so. When you have apprehended
that basket as one thing and have then analyzed
it according to its form and apprehended it as
a thing you make the only synthesis which is
logically and esthetically permissable. You
see that it is that thing which it is and no
other thing. The radiance of which he speaks
is the scholastic quidditas, the whatness of
a thing.7
T Portrait, pp. 212-213.
.48
Although Stephen is still in a Baudelairean forest of
symbols awaiting apprehension, these are not symbols of
some higher Reality; the thing itself is enough. The idea
that some object is merely a symbol of an ideal is rejected
by Stephen. In this way he also rejects certain uses of
symbolism. Primarily, he disassociates it from any form of
Neo-Platonism or any doctrine of metaphysics where art is
but a reflection of a transcendental Absolute. He is now
more of a realist and less of an idealist. Stephen also
emphasizes the fact that his is an aesthetic doctrine, not
a metaphysics; that he is discussing the relationship
between art and life, not religion. Stephen makes the same
point in Ulysses. What he thinks of the mystics in Dublin
is put rather graphically. "Through spaces smaller than
red globulas of man's blood they creepycrawl after Blake's
buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is but
a shadow." (186) When George Russell advocates "formless
spiritual essences," Stephen's unspoken response is "Hold
to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to
the past." (186) Unlike the Portrait where epiphany is
never mentioned, in Ulysses Stephen recalls this term and
groups it along with his other early literary pretensions.
Reading two pages apiece of seven books
every.night, eh? I was young. You bowed to
yourself in the mirror, stepping forward to
applause earnestly, striking face. Hurray
for the God-damned idiot! Hray! No-one saw:
49
tell no-one. Books you were going to
write with letters for titles. Have you
read his F? 0 yes, but I prefer Q. Yes,
but W is wonderful. 0 yes, W. Remember
your epiphanies on green oval leaves,
deeply deep, copies to be sent if you died
to all the great libraries of the world
including Alexandria? Someone was to read
them there after a few thousand years, a
mahamanvantara. Pico della Mirandola like.
Ay, very like a whale. When one reads
these strange pages of one long gone one
feels that one is at one with one who once...(40)
Unlike Joyce, Andrej Belyj left us a great deal of
critical writings. These include books of criticism,
articles, book reviews, memoires, diaries, and travelogues.
Of central importance to Belyj's developing aesthetic is a
series of articles written between 1904 and 1910. They
8
were collected in a volume entitled Symbolism (Simvolizm)
and published in 1910. The distinguishing feature of the
critical statements in this volume is the chaotic nature of
presentation. Belyj is concerned with a theory of knowl
edge; A purely scientific, empirical approach to cognition
is immediately rejected. For Belyj, any theory of knowledge
is also a theory of creation and therefore the focus of
Symbolism remains on aesthetics.
In the introduction to this volume Belyj admits that
he cannot give a precise definition of Symbolism. For him
Symbolism is a kind of religious faith with its own
doctrines. The main dogma of this religious belief is of
the word made flesh. It is interesting that in his
8
Andrej Belyj, Simvolizm (Moscow, 1910).
50
subsequent discussion, Belyj does not clarify this statement
and in fact hardly mentions religion at all. Rather, he
deals with Symbolism as art and not as a way of looking at
the world. Belyj's main concern is to discover what is new
in Symbolist art. As it turns out, there is actually
nothing new. Symbolism as art receives its impetus from a
desire to combine all of the artistic devices and philos
ophies of past cultures. Such a synthesis is a means of
illuminating the deepest contradictions of modern life, seen
through the prism of various cultures. As with the dying
man who sees his life in a flash, Symbolism is a synthesis
and a flash of new understanding. Reality is a diamond or
a prism that creates a game of light and simultaneity. The
detail itself is of little importance; it functions only as
a key that unlocks more complex ideas. Belyj writes that
to emphasize an idea through an image, is to transform the
image into a symbol. His emphasis on the totality of
experience seen through the prism of various cultures and
his concern with simutaneity is reminiscent of the wholeness
and harmony of Joyce's integrated worlds..
In the introduction to Symbolism, Belyj indicates that
9
"The Emblematics of Meaning" (Emblematika smysla), dated
1909, is the central article in the collection. Its
importance lies in the fact that it contains a significant
9
Simvolizm, pp. 49-143.
____________________________________ . _____________ „____________________51
departure from Belyj's previous statements. Earlier, in
"The Meaning of Art" (Smysl iskusstva),10 dated 1907, Belyj
considers Symbolist art to be above everything else. Art
is the only way to cognition and therefore superior to it.
At this stage the object and subject of Belyj's aesthetic
are still separated. Emphasis is put on the selective
faculty of the perceiver and not on the reproductive or
creative possibilities. In "The Emblematics of Meaning”
there is a distinction made between Symbol with a capital
S and what Belyj calls the symbol-image. The former belongs
to the realm of cognition, the latter to the realm of art.
The Symbol is the absolute, universal Unity (edinstvo) and
the ultimate mode of cognition. It is the embodied Symbol
(Simvol voplascennyj). The aim of art is to reach this
final, ultimate totality. Creativity, or the creative
effort that employs symbols, becomes also the way of cogni
tion. By means of symbols which are created by language,
the artist reaches for the absolute totality and Unity both
cosmic and personal. In Belyj Ts scheme, the symbol (word)
must be a way to realize a synthesis of two incomprehensible
and imcompatible substances -- space and time. Therefore,
Symbolist art is the quest for absolute wisdom, a striving
toward the ineffable Symbol.
10 SjjkvolliiHiu .pp. 1 9'Sr2 3 0 .
52
Helene Hartmann‘ S finds that Belyj's notion of Symbol-
ism has a great deal in common with Northrop Frye's "Theory
12
of Symbols," and especially with the last part of Frye's
essay that deals with anogogic symbols. Frye writes that
"literature of the anogogic phase imitates the total dream
of man, and so imitates the thought of a human mind which
is at the circumference and not at the center of its
13
reality." Anagogic symbolism is apocalyptic, apocalypse
being "Primarily the imaginative conception of the whole
nature as the content of an infinite and eternal living
body."S Seen in this context, the anagogic symbol reaches
for the universal absolute, the totality of meaning and
cognition.
The symbol is a device by which the artist unifies and
explores the world. Commonplace ordinary objects suggest
other levels of existence. The two halves of reality,
through the Hermetic principle of "as above, so below,"
are fused. Through "vertical correspondences" the micro
cosm "here below" becomes one with the macrocosm "there
above." Belyj continued his search for symbols that would
11
Helene Hartmann, "Andrej Belyj and the Hermetic
Tradition: A Study of the Novel Petersburg," Diss.
Columbia, 1969, pp. 23-24.
12
Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (Princeton,
1957).
13
Anatomy of Criticism, p. 123.
^ Ibid., p. 9.
53
link different levels of cognition, but by the time he was
to write the novel Petersburg, much of his youthful idealism
faded. In Petersburg, there is evidence of a more "horizon
tal" symbolization and pattern of associations that link
historical, psychological and visual experiences. Although
we can speak of vertical correspondences in the novel,
horizontal correspondences are also of central importance.
The Hermetic formula "as above, so below" is modified to
include: structurally, "as below, so below"; psychologi
cally, "as in, so out"; and mythically, "as then, so now."
As with Belyj's use of the symbol, so too with Joyce's
use of epiphany, it is possible to trace modifications in
attitude and application. The presence of the theory of
epiphany in the aesthetic of Stephen Dedalus in Stephen Hero
but not in the Portrait, has led some commentators to see
in this a clue to Stephen's developing character. They
point out that Stephen Hero, Portrait, and Ulysses have a
common, dramatic character, Stephen Dedalus, whose develop
ment can be traced through the trilogy. Also, that the
theory of epiphany is primarily Stephen's, not Joyce's, and
that none of the theories, although they resemble each
other, is exactly the same in any one novel. Hugh Kenner
feels that in the Portrait Stephen is exposed as not being
a true artist."^ That he is not enough of a creative
Hugh Kenner, Dublin's Joyce (Bloomington, Ind.,
1956), especially Chapter 9, "The School of Old Aquinas."
54
artist to deal with the problems he poses himself and needs
16
a "new terminology --a new personal experience."
S. L. Goldberg finds Stephen to be a basically shallow
17
person in the Portrait."
Although this is a possible approach to Joyce's works,
it must be kept in mind that Joyce never intended Stephen
Hero to be published. Stephen Hero cannot be considered a
completed work of art, and it would perhaps be more inter
esting to view the dramatic function of Stephen's aesthetic
theory in the immediate context of the Portrait. Then, as
Kate Harrison points out, the epiphany concept is dramatic-
18
ally integrated and does have a function. It is an
essential and central point for the development of the work
itself, rather than simply the character of Stephen.
The Portrait provides us with a clarification of the
relationship between aesthetic apprehension and the
creation of an artistic work. While in Stephen Hero
emphasis was put on the selective faculty, in the Portrait
the reproductive faculty is stressed. The inclusion of the
term epiphany in the Portrait would necessitate crucial
modifications on Joyce's part. Radiance is the property of
Portrait, p. 209.
^ S. L. Goldberg, The Classical Temper (New York,
1961), especially Chapters 2 and 3.
18
Kate Harrison, "The Portrait Epiphany," James Joyce
Quarterly, 8 (1971), 142-149.
55
art, while epiphany belongs to any experience and may
include art. In the Portrait, claritas-quidditas is the
creative insight of the artist. The synthesis is "felt by
the artist when the esthetic image is first conceived in
19
his imagination." , It is the instance when the supreme
quality of beauty, the clear radiance of the aesthetic
image, "is apprehended luminously by the mind which has been
arrested by its wholeness and fascinated by its harmony is
20
the luminous silent stasis of aesthetic pleasure,..."
There is now a shift of viewpoint. Earlier the
claritas-quidditas synthesis was a property of the external
object. It was essentially an epiphany based on the
observation of life, that may or may not afford a manifes
tation for the reader. A good example being Joyce's twenty-
two prose epiphanies. Now the final stage of apprehension
is the first stage of artistic creation. "This supreme
21
quality [quidditas] is felt by the artist" and the final
synthesis is a moment of creative insight in the artist's
consciousness. This occurs when the artist perceives that
he can create a situation, a setting, or a character by way
of language and image, that will afford a revelation of
1 9
Portrait, p. 211.
20 Ibid., p. 213.
21 Ibid-> P- 213.
56
life. A union of subject and object is implied. The sub
ject is involved in the act of apprehension and understand
ing. This is a creative, constructive act that involves
internal analysis and concentration on the patterns of
organization. The object is the structure of the work
itself, revealing its inner construction. These are not
separate activities.
In other words, epiphany is the projection of the
three stages of apprehension as parallel to creation. The
epiphany or epiphanic moment radiates meaning. These
meanings, through the application of various devices, create
a harmony and make up the wholeness of any given moment or
work of art. The work of art is then also an epiphany that
radiates meaning and opens up like a flower from the center
of the earth. The three stages of apprehension and creation
are reminiscent of Stephen's list in the Portrait.
Stephen Dedalus
Class of Elements
Clongowes Wood College
Sallins
County Kildare
Ireland
Europe
The World
The Universe22
Harry Levin remarks that this list is much like a timetable
"that you read downwards on your way to the county and
^ Portrait, p. 16.
_____________________________ 57
: 2 j ;
upwards on your way home." However, in view of Stephen's
three stages of apprehension and creation, the artist would
perceive it from "The Universe" to "Stephen Dedalus"
(wholeness to radiance) while the creative process would be
reversed, from "Stephen Dedalus" to "The Universe" (radiance
to wholeness). The reader's apprehension of the work of
art would be analogous. He would first be aware of the
work's wholeness, and then he would reconstruct it for him
self. In this way the reader shares in the creative process
of epiphany, and cognition depends on creation.
Therefore, epiphany is not the subjective idealization
of object; it is not a metaphysical essence, nor a symbol
of some higher Reality. Art does not express "formless
'spiritual essences" nor the revelation of an Ideal world.
Epiphany is any action by which something may become an
object of understanding when it is apprehended imagina
tively. There is nothing mystical or supernatural about it.
It is based on the artist's understanding of his material:
the world of experience, the macrocosm outside and the
microcosm within, rather than any metaphysical or even
naturalistic world that is regarded as real. The meanings
of an epiphany are created by the work of art itself and
are the harmonious relationships of forms and rhythm. The
artist's words and images are only meaningful in the context
23
James Joyce, p. 10.
58
of the work by which he makes them so. Fundamentally, this
involves a union of subject and object. The object reveals
its inner form while the subject apprehends this form and
expresses it in the "Word." The "Word" for Joyce is much
more than simply language; it also includes sound and the
simplest gesture. As Stephen remarks in the "Circe" section
of Ulysses:
So that gesture, not music not odours,
would be a universal language, the gift of
tongues rendering visible not the lay sense
but the first entelechy, the structural
rhythm. (432)
Joyce's epiphany, although grounded in mysticism, is
but the simplest word or gesture by which one gives oneself
away and which reveals a complex set of relationships. In
the "Sirens" episode of Ulysses, Bloom* s gesture of con
cealing from Richie Goulding the letter he is writing to
Martha Clifford, radiates meaning, and these meanings are
24
interwoven into the wholeness of the novel. After writing
the letter, Bloom thinks,
Blot over the other so he can't read. Idea
prize titbit. Something detective read of
blottingpad. Payment at the rate of guinea
per col. Matcham often thinks of the laughing
witch. Poor Mrs. Purefoy. U.p.:up. (280)
That morning Bloom read a story in Tit-Bits called
"Matcham's Masterstroke." The story begins with the sen
tence, "Matcham often thinks of the masterstroke by which
24
Cited in Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce's "Ulysses"
(New York, 1952), p. 253.
59
he won the laughing witch who now...." Bloom thinks of the
money he might make by writing such a prize, story. The
author of this piece is Philip Beaufoy. Later in the day
Bloom meets Mrs. Breen and mistakenly asks her about "Mrs.
Beaufoy."
"Mina Purefoy?" she said.
Philip Beaufoy I was thinking. Matcham often...
"Yes." (158)
Mina Purefoy is associated with Mina Kennedy, one of
the barmaids in the Ormond Restaurant. She is quieter than
Lydia Douce and therefore in a minor (mina) key. That
evening Bloom goes to visit Mina Purefoy at the hospital,
and there for the first time that day meets Stephen. Mrs.
Breen's husband received an anonymous postcard with "U.p.:
up." written on it. Besides its reference to venereal
disease (Bloom worries about venereal disease), this post
card contains the entire novel. The "U" stands for Ulysses,
the "p" for Penelope. In the first instance they are
separated by a period, in the second instance they are
united. Also, the letters might stand for Ulysses and
Poldy. Finally, Richie Goulding, from whom Bloom tries to
conceal the letter, is Stephen's "nuncle Richie." In the
"Scylla and Charybdis" section he is associated in Stephen's
mind with Shakespeare's "nuncle Richie." Bloom's gesture
of concealing the letter shows the secretive nature of his
correspondence. Throughout the day Bloom worries about
Martha Clifford.
60
Joyce's definition of epiphany is not peculiar to him
25
alone. Harry Levin sees it as being comparable to nuance.
It is something that has meaning beyond itself and is simply
the most economical way of exposing the greatest amount of
material. Yet if the definition is nothing new, the appli
cation of the technique and Joyce's use of it in the novel
Ulysses is. Epiphany adds to exposure and illumination.
Ulysses, spiritual illumination is often accompanied by
light. When Stephen is leaving the school, he sees "the
sun flung spangles dancing coins" (36) of Mr. Deasy's coin
collection. Stephen also has one of those sharp impressions
and exquisite moments identified with epiphany in the
"Wandering Rocks" section when he is gazing at a jeweller's
window. The fireworks display illuminates for Bloom the
revelation of Gerty MacDowell's limp. A shattered chande
lier ends the "Circe" section. "(...Times livid final flame
leaps and in the following darkness, ruin of all space,
shattered glass and toppling masonary.)" (583)
However, Joyce's developing technique in the use of
epiphany can be seen in the fact that for the most part the
epiphanies in Ulysses are not accompanied by flashes of
light. The novel is a texture of epiphanies that vary in
style. Sometimes they are lyrically based, at others they
are not. In Ulysses, the independent gems of Joyce's early
25
James Joyce, p. 31.
61]
prose poems have been put to work in an artistic context and
are part of a building process. This can be illustrated by
contrasting one of Joyce's original prose Epiphanies with
its subsequent incorporation into the framework of Ulysses.
1. Epiphany
Two mourners push on through the crowd. The
girl, one hand catching the woman's skirt, runs
in advance. The girl's face is the face of a
fish, discoloured and oblique-eyed; the woman's
face is small and square, the face of a
bargainer. The girl, her mouth distorted,
looks up at the woman to see if it is time to
cry; the woman, settling a flat bonnet, hurries
in toward the mortuary chapel.26
2. Stephen Hero
Two of them who were late pushed their way
viciously through the crowd. A girl, one
hand catching the woman's skirt, ran a pace
in advance. The girl's face was the face
of a fish, discoloured and oblique-eyed;
the woman's face was square and pinched,
the face of a bargainer. The girl, her mouth
distorted, looked up at the woman to see if
it was time to cry: the woman, settling a
flat bonnet, hurried on towards the mortuary
chapel.27
3. Ulysses
Mourners came out through the gates: woman
and a girl. Leanjawed harpy, hard woman at
a bargain, her bonnet awry. Girl's face
stained with dirt and tears, holding the
woman's arm looking up at her for a sign to 2g
cry. Fish's face, bloodless and livid. (101)
2 6
James Joyce, Epiphanies, ed. 0. A. Silverman
(Buffalo, 1956), number 14.
27
Stephen Hero, p. 164.
2 8
Many early Epiphanies eventually found their place
in the texts of Stephen Hero, the Portrait, and Ulysses.
See A. Walton Litz, The Art of James Joyce (New York, 1964),
pp. 132-139. The comparison cited above is taken from
Robert Scholes, "Joyce and the Epiphany: The Key to the
Labyrinth?".. The Sewanee Review, .72, 1 (Jan.-Mar., 1964),
. 6 . 2 .
As Robert Scholes points out, the initial modification
of the Epiphany is minimal. It is basically a change from
a present tense narrative to a past tense. However, the
second modification is crucial. In Ulysses, the use of the
Epiphany has become freer and more creative. The "spiri-.
tual manifestation" has become part of an entire novel.
Epiphany is important only as it relates to Bloom and his
mental process. Epiphany, then, is not a key to the laby
rinth, it is the labyrinth itself.
Moments of insight and revelation in Petersburg, are
often accompanied by flashes of light that express spiri
tual illumination. However, as in Ulysses, a flash of
light is not always a symbol of revelation, nor do all
revelations lead to understanding and truth. In Petersburg
light and darkness are continually being contrasted. For'
example, the light of Petersburg as opposed to the darkness
of the islands that are enveloped in fog. The word motif
of varnish, luster, and glitter (lak, losk, blesk) runs
through the novel. Initially it is introduced as a descrip
tion of the Ableuxov's house; afterwards, it is associated
with a military parade; and finally, it is used to describe
the city itself. Glitter, sparkles, and flashes of light
grow in intensity and scope until they become the explosion
of the bomb. When light symbolism is used to reveal the
(footnote #28 cont.) p. 74.
63
spiritual illumination of characters, it can have various
interpretations, and leads to a number of insights both for
the character as well as the reader.
The three characters Nikolaj Ableuxov, Dudkin, and
Sofia Petrovna Lixutina are united by a common vision of
the Bronze Horseman. For all three, as well as for the
reader, certain crucial insights and associations are
created by these visions. Nikolaj's confrontation scene
with the statue of the Bronze Horseman is at first enveloped
in a green fog. (240-241) The color is ambivalent since it
represents both death and decay as well as spring and re
birth. When the moon bursts through the clouds, everything
flares up. Nikolaj's fate is revealed in a flash, and he
understands the ramifications of his intended patricide.
Dudkin, the young Evgenij of Puskin's poem, is pursued
by the statue to his apartment. There Peter's statue tells
Dudkin what must be done. The next morning, while Dudkin is
walking in the street, accompanied by the metallic statue
that is surrounded by a green haze, there is a sudden flash
of utensils in a shop. At that moment, the course that
Dudkin must follow is revealed. He buys a pair of scissors
and murders Lippancenko. Dudkin's enlightenment is nothing
more than a parody of Nikolaj's newly acquired understand
ing. It is also a cruel condemnation of the Petrine spirit.
Dudkin is reduced to a madman, riding Lippancenko1s body
64
in a mockery of Peter the Great and Puskin's Evgenij.
Illumination for him has led nowhere, but for the reader it
has created countless associations. Above all, it has put
Nikolaj's assassination plot into a proper perspective.
Also, scissors are associated with other piercing instru
ments in the novel, while the two blades of this instrument
of murder reflect the duality of Dudkin's and Nikolaj's
natures. Finally, the metal related motif is associated
with the Bronze Horseman and especially with the metallic
blows of the hoofs.
Sofia Petrovna Lixutina, perhaps the most enigmatic
character in the novel, never actually sees the Bronze
Horseman. Riding home from the masquerade ball, she hears
what she thinks to be the metallic hoof beats of the statue
pursuing her. This scene occurs immediately after the
masquerade ball where Sofia Petrovna handed Nikolaj a letter
directing him to assassinate his father. With this action
she becomes involved in the assassination plot. But the
sound of the hoof beats turns out to be a fire brigade rush
ing to the scene of a fire. Perhaps it is the same brigade
that will later extinguish the flame caused by the exploded
bomb in the Ableuxqv house. Although Sofia Petrovna does
encounter Peter's statue, her revelation will occur later
that night. After realizing that her husband has attempted
suicide, the reconciliation scene is accompanied with the
dawning of a new day.
65
There, on the window, on the shimmering
spires that grew more vivid; there up on
the tall spires, the ruby color spread.
Over her soul suddenly passed soothing
voices and everything was illuminated for
her, just as the pale rosy rays of the
rising sun fell from the window upon the
grey noose. (221)
Sofia Petrovna's spiritual illumination is to this
point in the novel the truest and the most complete. Al
though she is a major character in the first half of the
novel, after the scene quoted above she no longer plays an
important role. Her illumination predicts the understanding
Nikolaj is to achieve at the end of the novel, and for both
Nikolaj and Sofia Petrovna cognition is a consequence of
their fall. Like Molly in Ulysses, Sofia Petrovna undergoes
several transformations. She is a falling angel, the high
priestess of a group involved in parlor mysticism, and a
Japanese doll. For the masquerade ball she dresses up as
the most earthly of creatures, Madame Pompadour. Her fall,
therefore, traces a line that eventually lands her on earth.
Accordingly, her illumination creates a totality of cog
nition and meaning both for her and for the reader. The
symbols contained in her thoughts at the dawning of a new
day, create a network of horizontal correspondences that
contain the entire novel Petersburg.
Sofia Petrovna first sees the spires of Petersburg,
but at the end of her thought she focuses on the rope tied
in a noose. By concentrating on the rope, she accepts life
66
and attaches herself to the image of the umbilical cord in
the novel. The rope’s noose represents the cyclic recur
rence of man and will be developed more fully in its
relation to Nikolaj. At this point, one is reminded of
Stephen's conception of an umbilical telephone line from
Dublin to 001 Edenville. The spire, like the Martello
Tower in Ulysses, is the navel (omphalos) of the novel.
There are several spires that are described by Belyj in the
Petersburg cityscape. Especially noteworthy is the spire
on the Admiralty Building: the agonizingly sharp Peter and
Paul spire pierces the sky. In the novel, spires shine
when illuminated by the sun, but are green when enveloped
by fog. They unite the "above" with the "below." However,
horizontal correspondences are also developed through the
use of the spire symbol.
The spires are sharp, piercing instruments and are
associated with Dudkin's scissors, the horn of the unicorn,
the display of weapons in the Ableuxov house, and the bomb.
All are instruments of destruction and stand for the con
cept of "breaking through." The young knight that is being
gored by the unicorn on the Ableuxov crest is both the
father Apollon Apollonovic and the son Nikolaj. The crest
represents the agonizing and tortured nature of the father-
son relationship and the correspondence created here is
a horizontal one (as within, so without). The bomb, in a
like manner, tears down the wall that separates father and
67
son in the Ableuxov house. Spires are contrasted to the
smokestacks of the factories that circle Petersburg like a
picket fence and create a barrier. The notion of "breaking
through" is reinforced by the fact that Sofia Petrovna sees
the spires through the windows of her house. Windows and
slamming doors are an important motif in the novel.
Structurally, the most important association is with
bridges. Like spires their thrust is toward union. They
unite the finite and infinite, the visible and invisible,
the known and unknown, the city and the islands, East and
West. In the novel bridges trace the design of a radiance.
From the center of the city, bridges radiate outward and
unite Petersburg with its suburbs. The structure traced
by the bridges is contained within another of the same
design. The railroad lines of Russia reach out from Peters
burg into the vast frozen expanses of Siberia. Apollon
V
Apollonovic once traveled the Trans-Siberian Railroad to
Japan. He was frightened by this experience and almost
froze. Bridges traverse the void, over which the statue of
the Bronze Horseman is poised; and they reach across the
green, strangling, serpentine waters of the Neva. Bridges
begin at the visible level and lead toward an unknown
reality which is hidden by the green fog.
Beyond the Neva, in the other-worldly green
distance, stand the ghosts of islands and
houses tempting one with the futile hope that
this region is indeed reality. (54)
68
At the most important points of the novel, out of the fog
and darkness of a bridge appear the hat, cane, coat, beard,
and nose of the double agent Morkovin.
The design of a radiance traced by the bridges is the
central organizational structure of the novel. Bridges
represent the connective fiber that holds the novel
together, and all crucial decisions are made there. Six
2 9
unifying scenes take place on the bridges of-Petersburg.
After an abortive suicide Nikolaj gives Morkovin the fateful
promise to assassinate his father. Also, in a flashback he
remembers how disappointed he was with Sofia Petrovna when
he stood on the same bridge two months earlier. Nikolaj is
again on a bridge after he appears to Sofia Petrovna as the
red domino, frightens her, and then invites her to the
masquerade ball. With this invitation he unknowingly in
volves her in the murder plot. Nikolaj is on a bridge and
is again dressed as a red domino when he frightens Sofia
Petrovna for the second time. But this time he makes a
ridiculous impression on her by stumbling, falling, and
exposing his green garters. Nikolaj finds himself on a
bridge after running like a madman from the masquerade ball.
Immediately afterwards he reads the letter handed to him by
Sofia Petrovna that makes it clear to him that he must kill
his father. Nikolaj is also on a bridge when Morkovin tells
29
Dagmar Burkhart, "Leitmotivik und Symbolik in Andrej
Belyj’s Roman Pet erburg, ” Die Welt der Slaven, ' . . ' 9 . (1964), 28L
69
him that because he has not gone through with the assassi
nation plot, he must now choose between arrest and suicide.
Finally, Nikolaj stands on a bridge and remembers his being
there two months earlier. He has gone full circle.
The symbol of the spire, then, is closely related to
the symbol of the rope in Sofia Petrovna's thoughts. It is
not only a symbol that connects the "here below" with the
"there above," but is also an organizational device that
creates the unified design of the novel and affords the
reader insights into the minds of the characters. There
fore, it is important to look at the organizational value
of the symbol in Belyj's novel. Petersburg consists of
symbols that create a countless number of shifting corre
spondences and associations, and Belyj develops the
subjective experience in a new manner.
Belyj was wary of any exaggerated concern with mysti
cism. In The Crisis of Thought (Krizis mysli), he warns
about an escape into the rigid confines of the mind, but he
is also apprehensive of the irrational "madness of the
30
heart." In Petersburg, the brand of decadence and parlor
mysticism practised by Sofia Petrovna and the group that
meets in her apartment, and perhaps Belyj's own early in-
31
volvement with such groups, is cruelly satirized.
30
Andrej Belyj, Na perevale: II Krizis mysli
(Petersburg, 1918) pp. 120-121.
31
See Chapter IV p, 175 of this study.
70
There is no perspective in Sofia Petrovna’s apartment and
it has a hothouse atmosphere. It is contrasted with the icy
atmosphere and symmetrical arrangement of the Ableuxov
house. The apartment is full of Japanese and oriental
artifacts that give it a ludicrous appearance. Mystical
orientation in Sofia Petrovna’s point of view transforms the
commonplace into highly emotional events. She transforms
the mounted firemen into the Bronze Horseman and a city
policeman into a messianic vision of a tall, sad figure clad
in white. But Belyj also sees through revolutionary bom
bast. He feels that all forms of cruelty and crime are
hidden in revolutionary terror. The portraits of Dudkin
and Lippancenko are satiric and highly negative. As they
are depicted in the novel, both mystic and revolutionary
are dangerous and out of touch with reality.
Harry Levin describes Ulysses as a novel that "crosses
32
the two keys of topography and mythology." The same
thing could have been written about Belyj’s Petersburg. By
selecting the city Petersburg as the focus of his novel,
Belyj chooses a traditional theme from Russian literature
and developes it in such a manner that it provides an
alternative to the narrower Symbolist topics. While
accepting the physical conditions of modern, urban exisz .
tence, he emphasizes the rediscovery of soul, unity, and
32
James Joyce, p. 85.
___________ ______________71
33
universal love. Physical objects are not what they seem
to be. "It is not in form or color that the center of
poetry rests, but in the interchange of these colors and
34
forms, combined into the images of surrounding reality."
The superficial, visual order of parts is only a disguise
that hides the true reality. "The chastity of the pyramid
of Cheops masks the madness of the infinite; the intermi-
35
nable stops here."
Joyce's use of epiphany also creates a unified design
of horizontal correspondences. Irene Hendry Chayes in her
well known article on epiphany isolates four distinct
! 'z &
uses of epiphany in Joyce's works. The four uses of
epiphany that she mentions all have in common the fact that
! 37
ithey eliminate the artist's personality from the works.
An example of the first type of epiphany is the fragment of
I 33 v
| See Andrej Belyj, "Raduznyj gorod," (The Rainbow
|City) Arabeski (Moscow, 1911). Also, Pierre Romaine Hart,
i"Andrej Belyj 's Petersburg and the Myth of the City,"
|Diss. Univ. of Wisconsin, 1969.
| 34
I Simvolizm, p. 162.
35
Andrej Belyj, "Egipet," (Egypt) Sovremennik
(June, 1912), 177-178.
3 6
Irene Hendry Chayes, "Joyce's Epiphanies," in
Portraits of an Artist, eds. William E. Morris and
Clifford A. Nault, Jr. (New York, 1962), pp. 153-167.
37
See this study, Chapter I, p. 29.
72
3 8
conversation overheard by Stephen on Eccles Street. It
is the same type of epiphany Joyce makes use of in
Dubliners, except in this case, it is the final epiphany
without the foundation. A very personal experience is re
created. Epiphanies of this type can be related to Joyce's
practice in writing his twenty-two prose poems. They take
on the two forms of "vulgarity of speech or gesture" and
a "memorable phase of the mind itself." Works such as
"A Flower Given to My Daughter" of "My love is in light
attire" recreate the "most delicate and evanescent of
moments," but are entirely without frame of reference.
Their meaning is not totally realized and they are simply
moments of revelation without a narrative base. As we have
seen, Joyce later adapted some of them for his later
fiction and fitted them into a narrative framework.
Bloom's and Stephen's wanderings about Dublin are full of
|epiphanies of this kind. The shout in the street that
i
jstephen calls a "manifestation of God" is an obvious
i
jexample. In Ulysses a character often reveals himself
jthrough such epiphanies. On the way to the funeral Simon
!
Dedalus is told about his son. We learn about the older
Dedalus and about his feelings toward his son from his
reaction.
T O
| Stephen Hero, p. 211.
The second type of epiphany makes us aware of an effect
on the beholder or on ourselves through the beholder. It is
what Irene Hendry calls the "block" epiphany technique and
like the final block of a structure, it completes a design.
The block epiphany is a single image, event, or detail that
suddenly illuminates, integrates, and gives meaning. There
fore, it creates integritas, consonantia, and claritas both
in phenomena external to the observer and phenomena within
the observers mind. In this way, it is a moment of mental
*
experience or a brief emotional state that uncovers inner
states of mind as well as organizational patterns. Gerty
McDowell's limp is a revelation both for Bloom and for the
reader, while Stephen's parable of the plums reveals the
depth of life in ordinary, everyday experiences. S. L.
Goldberg points out that there is a block epiphany at the
39
end of every chapter of Ulysses. The vice-regal proces
sion at the end of "Wandering Rocks" or the rat at the end
|
of the "Hades" chapters illuminate the actual state of
affairs. The final block completes a design of intricately
interconnected epiphanies. From the point of the final
block epiphany themes and images radiate and construct the
dramatic organization of Ulysses.
The third type of epiphany is best exemplified in the
division of whole characters into separate parts.
39
The Classical Temper, especially p. 270.
74.
Quidditas, the necessary condition to radiance, is a perfec
tion of formal organization, or consonantia, "when the
relation of the parts is exquisite, when the parts are
adjusted to the special point, we recognize that it is that
40
thing which it is." The formal adjustment is the breaking
down of characters into separate parts and then resynthe-
sizing these parts. What we know about Molly Bloom, when
we see her through Bloom's eyes and then directly, is
fragmentary. She is a collection of physical attributes
(her plumpness, eyes, hair) and sounds (the squeaking bed).
At another level, we know her as the nymph Calypso, as
Boylan's mistress, as Bloom's wife, and as Rudy's mother.
Nymph, mistress, wife, mother are all integral components
and different facets of Molly's entire personality. Details
cluster about a single character, often suggesting meanings
of greater significance than the detail itself. For the
reader, the process of connecting these seemingly disparate
details is the process of enlightenment.
The fourth type of epiphany is very similar to the type
just outlined except that its use is emblematic. A charac
ter is broken down, but only one or two of his component
parts are resynthesized. These epiphanies usually take the
form of a "vulgarity of speech or gesture," an expression,
or an item of clothes. In Ulyssesthese epiphanies are for
40
Stephen Hero, p. 211.
_________ ■ 75.
example: Stephen's ash plant and hat, Cranly's priestly
pallor, Lynch's whinnying laugh, McCann's goatee, Davin’s
brogue, Dixon's signet ring, Heron's cane, Glynn's
umbrella.^ Here quidditas is a recombination of an indi?
vidual and its function is to identify. The technique is
one of objective characterization, revealing an individual
by means of a detail. When the technique is used with
larger, more important characters (Bloom's hat, newspaper,
cigar, lemon soap, flower, kidney), the details fit into the
greater organizational design of the novel. Obviously, such
use of epiphany is no different from other writer's use of
symbol, nuance, and leitmotif. Joyce's epiphany has a
given function to perform in a specific situation and then
might be used in a totally different context. The bowl
symbolism in Ulysses is only one of countless examples. A
bowl of shaving lather is in Buck Mulligan's hands at the
beginning of the novel. For Stephen this bowl becomes the
bay and the bowl of vomit at his mother's deathbed. The
bowl later becomes Bloom's bathtub, a cup of cocoa that
Stephen and Bloom share, and Molly's chamber pot.
Similarly, the elaborate drawing of characters in
Petersburg is neither simply an allegory nor is it a formal
system of symbols. It is a constantly shifting pattern of
images and the revelation of human consciousness. The
symbol is important not only for its creative capabilities,
^ Listed in Irene Hendry Chayes, "Joyce's Epiphany,"
76
but also for its unifying powers. Emphasis is on the mental
process of a subjective consciousness creating a reality
based on associations. Such an emphasis changes tangible
details into a series of fragmented subjective impressions.
The total picture is a synthesis. Belyj says that,
In writing my novel Petersburg, I attempted,
for the most part, to describe events which
occur in our minds and the picture of the
world in conceptual terms; it resulted in
terror and nightmare; this same terror and
nightmare is found in the sphere of our
experiences; but our being there makes it
impossible to see and hear it and we take ^
offense at every indication of it by others.
Through symbol the equation of internal and external events
becomes possible. All movement is directed toward a single
consciousness while the symbol, rather than transcending
the imaginary, is an expression of the picture being lived.
Petersburg is a description of consciousness and the inter
relation and synthesis of subjective moods. The effect
produced is one of a sequence or mosaic of visual and audi
tory fragments and associations.
Characters are developed by means of synecdotic por
trayal and description. Of special importance are clothes
and physiological characteristics. The importance of a
character can be measured by the amount of details that
p. 164. (footnote #41 cont.)
^ Andrej’ Belyj , Rudolf Steiner i L Gete v mirovozzrenii
sovremennosti (Moscow, 1917), p. 69.
77
cluster around him, and the number of associations that
emanate from him. When from the center of the city appears
a herald, he is described as a clean shaven gentleman with
out a cap, holding a tall, heavy flagstaff in his hand.
Morkovin the double agent is a collection of certain de-r
tails. He is a hat, cane, coat, beard, and nose. On his
nose there is an enormous wart that is his mask and conceals
his identity. Other notable traits are: Apollon
y>
Apollonovic's green, enormous ears and frock coat; Nikolaj's
froglike grimace and oriental dressing gown; Sofia
Petrovna's hair and doll-like appearance; Dudkin's eyes;
Lippancenko's lips. Physical environment is also used as a
means of suggesting a character. Living and working areas
are metonymic expressions of personality. The coldness,
sterile symmetry, and Western style of the Ableuxov house
is contrasted to the overheated, crowded, and orientally
furnished Lixutin apartment. The studies of father and son
in the Ableuxov house are at opposite poles. Apollon
Apollonovic's study is the epitome of bureaucratic order,
while Nikolaj's room is decorated in oriental splendor and
is in a constant state of disorder. In addition, both the
Lixutin and Ableuxov dwellings are contrasted to the dark
ness and poverty of Dudkin's apartment, and to the seaminess
of the Lippancenko household.
As we have seen, epiphany is not a representative
symbol and does not stand for some reality beyond itself.
78
It is rather a unit of meaning within the framework of a
work of art. Ulysses consists of a texture of epiphanies;
elements are brought together in the epiphany, and the
relationship between parts of the novel are revealed through
epiphany. The self discovered by a character or reader in
past epiphanies and actions is also an epiphany. Quoting
Maeterlinck, Stephen says that "If Socrates leave his house
today he will find the sage seated on his door step. If
Judas go forth tonight it is to Judas his steps will tend."
(213) Irene Hendry writes that all of Joyce's works are
"a tissue of epiphanies, great and small, from fleeting
images to whole books, from the briefest revelation in his
lyrics to the epiphany that occupies one gigantic enduring
43
'moment' in Finnegans:Wake." What William Tindall writes
about Dubliners is equally true of Ulysses: "each story
may be thought of as a great epiphany, and the container of
44
little epiphanies, an epiphany of epiphanies." Stephen's
aesthetic theory is a definition of form and the organi
zation of language. Harmony is the relation of part to
part and of each part to the whole. Radiance is the symbol
as it is used in the work itself; it is the "whatness" of
wholeness and harmony.
^"Joyce's Epiphanies," p. 162.
^ William York Tindall, A Reader's Guide to James
Joyce (New York, 1959), p. 11.
79
Ulysses is constructed on the principle of epiphany.
There are epiphanies within epiphanies, while the novel
itself is an epiphany radiating forth meaning and for its
conclusion returning upon itself. The harmony and radiance
that is the novel Ulysses, discloses the "whatness" of
reality and itself consists of smaller epiphanies. The sub
jective consciousness of the artist disappears and meaning
is conveyed through correspondences and verbal symboliza
tion. Joyce seeks a representation so precise and so
dependent for its meaning on the total design of the novel,
that any comment by the author would be superfluous. The
dramatic structure of Ulysses depends on minds in the
apprehension of epiphanies. Such a structure includes the
apprehensions made by characters and the artist's and
reader's understanding of the significance of these appre
hensions. Epiphany, as defined by Stephen in Stephen Hero
becomes progressively less appropriate for the dramatic
objectification Joyce desires. Therefore, in Ulysses
revelation becomes a technical device. The theory of
epiphany furnished Joyce with technique: a technique devel
oped from Stephen's theory of the impersonality of art. As
defined by Stephen it involved a "lyrical-epical-dramatic"
progression: a movement from the first person to the third,
from the personal to the impersonal, from kinetic to static
art.
80
For Stephen an impersonal, objective art stands free
from all kinetic tensions. Art is "the human disposition
45
of sensible or intelligible matter for an aesthetic end."
Ulysses we see the deliberate avoidance of action on the
part of Bloom and Stephen. Yet it is rather problematic
whether any artistic structure can be totally static. The
work of art must possess integritas, consonantia, and
claritas, or in other words, the formal relationship of
parts. The third stage of Stephen's analysis concludes
that any object can achieve its epiphany and be "beautiful."
Then how is one structure deeper, more significant, or more
meaningful than another? Is there a difference between the
novel Ulysses and Sweets of Sin, the pornographic thriller
Bloom buys for Molly? Seemingly their structures are
identical and depend on the design SOS. Both begin and end
with an S having the circular, recurring movement of rising
and falling at their core. Structure alone is not the
answer and must include the reactions of the perceiver.
Therefore we can compare Bloom's reaction to a passage from
Sweets of Sin and music.
Warmth showered gently over him, cowing his
flesh. Flesh yielded amid rumpled clothes.
Whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils
arched themselves for prey. Melting breast
ointments (for him! For Raoul!) Feel!
Pressed! Crushed! Sulphure dung of lions! (236)
45
Portrait, p. 207.
81
--Come!
it soared, a bird, it held its flight, a
swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped
serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don’t
spin it out too long long breath he breath
long life, soaring high, high resplendent,
aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence
symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom,
high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere
all soaring all around about the all, the
endlessnessnessness...
--To me!
Siopold!
Consumed. (275-276)
However, it is impossible to say that the apprehension
of music is less kinetic than that of pornography. In both
cases there is a deeply felt significance and an ordering
of Bloom’s feelings and memories. Also, it cannot be said
that one moment has wider effects than the other. Both
apprehensions have meaning beyond themselves and add to the
development of the organizational design of Ulysses. Bloom
is haunted by the memory of Raoul throughout the day, and
he constantly associates him with Blazes Boylan. On the
other hand, the music from the opera Martha is associated in
Bloom's mind with his shoddy affair with Martha Clifford,
none the less immoral because to this point it is only
imagined. Joyce’s only answer is that "art is true to
47
itself when it deals with truth" and that art is the
affirmation of life and the spirit of man.
46
The comparison is made in Goldberg, The Classical
Temper, p. 49.
47
The Critical Writings of James Joyce, eds. Ellswdrth
Mason and Richard Ellmann (New York, 1958), pp. 43-44.
82
For Belyj as for Joyce it is the "Word" that unites all
visual and auditory fragments in a work of art. In "The
4 8
Magic of Words," (Magija slova) Belyj explains that the
creative word, through the power of language, builds his
universe. It is the word that can illuminate the mysteries
of the world, and through the word he can create at the same
time, what is inside him as well as what is outside. But
first, the word must liberate itself from the slavery of
meaning and serve sound. The meaning of a word limits,
while sound interpenetrates and unifies. Time and space
can be expressed and made objective only through sound; it
is essential to both poetry and prose. "The strict con
struction of the line, a profusion of musical rhythm and
Driginal metaphor -- all of these are the external charac
teristics of symbolist poetry as well as of symbolist
,,49
prose."
When an object is named its existence is affirmed.
Every word hides an unknowable mystery. Naming is a process
of magic incantation and becomes a game of words both re
vealing and concealing. In Petersburg the process is called
"cerebral play." This is not a purely aesthetic view of
language. Rather, the author armed with words recreates
everything he sees, penetrates the unknown, and his words
48
Simvolizm, pp. 429-448.
49
Andrej Belyj, "0 simvolizme," Trudi i dni, No. 1
(1912) , p. 18. ------------
83
produce the designs of radiance that expand "like the sparks
of stars and envelope the listener in the darkness of inter
planetary space.The process described here is similar
to Stephen's list that leads one from Stephen Dedalus to
the universe. Both the radiant moment of the word and the
universe of interplanetary space are included.
* 51
In The Notes of an Eccentric (Zapiski cudaka) Belyj
says that the writer is a mythmaker. The point from which
his myth emanates must remain a secret. Words and struc
tures of words play a game with the reader. To distract
the reader from the mysterious point, the writer uses games,
puzzles,. riddles, and puns. There is humor and a sense of
comedy in such an aesthetic. Games, puns, near anagrams,
deceiving allusions, characters that are never developed,
and misleading revelations all function to confuse the
reader. Dudkin's revelation leads nowhere, while his name
is a near anagram for nowhere, (nikuda) The only function
Mr. Cukatov (his name describes a sweet candy and he is very
fond of dancing) has in the novel is to give the masquerade
ball. He is waltzed into the novel by Belyj, and immedi
ately after the ball he is waltzed out.
The "Word" is also an integrating agent for Joyce, by
which component parts are resynthesized. Language serves
^ Simvolizm, p. 437.
S1 v
Andrej Belyj, Zapiski cudaka (Moscow, 1922) .
84
both consonantia and claritas, and is the vehicle o£ both
the radiant aesthetic experience and of the organizational
play of Ulysses as a whole. Linguistic techniques such as
etymology, multiple meaning, connotation, association, and
variations of sound, are adapted to theme as well as to the
epiphany principle. Consonantia is the analysis of the
whole into its parts; integritas is the resynthesis of the
parts into a whole through the vehicle of language; claritas
is the interaction of the two above.
Ulysses is also a great game of language and symbols.
It would be a mistake to consider all epiphanies meaningful
and organizationally valuable. Some are simple illusions
while others are traps. Like Mr. Kernan in the "Wandering
Rocks" episode, we cannot always believe our eyes. Mr.
Power watches "Long John Fanning ascend towards Long John
Fanning in the mirror." (247) Mr. Kernan’s reaction is
different.
Is that Lambert's brother over the way, Sam?
Yes. He's as like it as damn it. No. The
windowscreen of the motorcar in the sun there.
Just a flash like that. Damn like him. (240)
Also there is the false clue in the "Wandering Rocks"
section. Is Blazes Boylan's secretary actually Martha
Clifford? Referring to a book she is reading, and probably
referring only to the book, she thinks, "To much mystery
5 2
business in it . Is he in love with that one, Marion?" (229)
52 . . .
Cited in Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce1s Ulysses,
pp. 228-229.
__________________: ______ 85
The mention of "mystery business" and "Marion" can start a
series of associations, but these are not developed any
where else in the novel and therefore remain a dead end.
Or who is Wetherup? His name is included in the title to
53
one of the sections in "Aeolus." "Wetherup always said
that. Get,'.a grip of them by the stomach." (126) He is
only mentioned once again and then seemingly forgotten.
But such are the hazards of a labyrinth; not every
string that you follow will lead you out. Some critics
would have us believe that all events, objects, and associa-
i
tions are connected. Also, that all the metaphorical
associations are woven into meaningful themes, and that the
entire meaning of these two works can be found in the total
ity of the symbols' meanings. This method of exegesis was
used by Stuart Gilbert to demonstrate the "symbolic" struc
ture of arts, organs, colors, and techniques found in
54
jUlysses. Such an approach only succeeds in finally creat-
|
|ing a labyrinth of the critic's making. Of what thematic or
i
jstructural value is it for us to know that "The Oxen of the
Sun" episode is written as a series of parodies of English
|literary styles?'*'* Rather, Petersburg and Ulysses, through
53
Gilbert, James Joyce's Ulysses, p. 120.
54 T ,
Ibid.
5 5
! Point made by Edmund Wilson, Axel's Castle
(New York, 1969), p. 215.
I
! 86
the use of epiphany and aesthetic symbol, incorporate many
of the devices of symbolist poetry in an attempt to recon
struct through apprehension a reality that is split and
disparate. The poetic process is one of construction and
reconstruction and a striving toward unity.
CHAPTER III
EXPANSION OF MOMENT
It was the French Symbolist poets who discovered that
the moment in literature was not an end but a beginning;
that it was a point from which to begin a retracing of
apprehension. Reconstruction and recapitulation were both
ways of discovering reality and the poetic process itself.
Joyce's Ulysses and Belyj's Petersburg are novels that for
mulate the poetic process as one of discovery through
reconstruction (for both the author and the reader). The
poetic process can be seen as construction in reconstruction
and a striving toward unity. Both the infinitely inclusive
and the infinitely minute are essential, and both novels
proceed by agglomeration and expansion, not by development.
Time remains stationary as scene follows scene in a steady
succession of presents. There is an abandonment of unilat
eral narrative and dramatic action in favor of a structure
that depends on expansion; on the analogical juxtaposition
of characters, scenes, and situations with an elliptical
connective fiber; and on point of view.
88
Ulysses is constructed of eighteen sections, the tenth
("Wandering Rocks") is itself composed of nineteen separate
1
scenes. One section never leads directly into another.
Although the character might be the same in two consecutive
sections, there is always a gap in time and a change of
i
place. Such a change is also accompanied by a shift in the
principal concerns of the character and a shift in literary
technique."^ We see the characters of the novel being built
|up where we were perhaps intended to see a movement. Al
though this is analogous to a flower blooming, in technique
it is more closely related to portraiture. The movement of
;Ulysses instead of following a line, expands itself in
every dimension about a single point in time, tracing the
design of a radiance.
In the first three sections of the novel Stephen
Dedalus is the central character. Each section focuses
more closely on Stephen's mind, each relies more heavily on
the stream-of-consciousness technique, and each represents
the world more and more narrowly through the eyes and mind
of Stephen. Even though there are many motifs that are
repeated in each section, Stephen's central concerns shift.
In "Telemachus," Stephen's relation to his friends is
emphasized; in "Nestor," the emphasis is shifted to the
^ See William M. Schutte and Erwin R. Steinberg, "The
Fictional Technique of Ulysses," in Approaches to Ulysses,
eds. Thomas F. Staley and Bernard Benstock, [Pittsburg,
1970), pp. 157-178.
89
jolder-Mr. Deasey; while in "Proteus," Stephen's relation to
i
ithe universe and time becomes central. However, there is
! ;
I
,no spatial or chronological continuity between the three
i
i
.sections. Spatially, the sections shift from the Martello
Tower, to the school, to Sandymount strand; while chrono
logically, from 8 A.M. to 10 A.M. to 11 A.M. (approximately).
The connective fiber between these sections has been re
moved and there is a presentation of a succession of
presents. The final shift is the most abrupt. While
Stephen is watching a ship, which he later discovers to be
the Rosevean, the reader is introduced to Bloom in his
kitchen; time has been recycled, and it is again 8 A.M.
In the first three sections of Ulysses there is, on the
one hand, a widening of interest and perspective from
friends to generations to time, and on the other hand, a
narrowing and intensification of focus dealing with
Stephen's mind. Such a movement is paradigmatic of the
novel's structure which includes the infinitely expansive
and the infinitely small, and at the same time attempts to
reconcile both into a unity. Any object in the novel has
the capability of expanding infinitely. Referring to his
newspaper, Bloom says, "You can keep it. I was just going
ito throw it away." (85) Bantam Lyons takes Bloom's words
|as a tip on a horse Throwaway, which is entered in the
Ascot Gold Cup. When the horse actually wins, this mis
understanding leads to consequences of epic proportions
90
later in the day. The same movement is again used in the
I
leases of Bloom and Molly. For example, at the end of
1
Ulysses, Joyce projects Bloom’s day against the infinite
l
spaces beyond, and it is to this cosmic level that the novel
: finally expands. However, the scene shifts from kitchen
to the bed, and the impersonality of the question and answer
technique with its scientific jargon is replaced by the
vast and inclusive, yet intensely personal and intimate
inner monologue of Molly Bloom.
Molly's monologue revolves around thoughts and words
that retrace the major motifs of the novel. In her thoughts
she involves herself with the human activity of trying to
understand life by recreating it. The world ends and is
created afresh in her memory and imagination. Life is born
out of Molly's last words and they represent a time cycle
that links beginning with end. Molly's "yes" is a final
affirmation which is contrasted to Stephen's everlasting
"nay." The final "yes" refers back to the first word of
the novel, "Stately"; and the final and initial "S" creates
the image of a serpent swallowing its own tail and repre
sents the theme of cyclic recurrence. The orbs of Molly's
buttocks reflect the shape of celestial forms and the move
ment of her thoughts is in accordance with the revolutions
of earth on its axis. Stuart Gilbert breaks down Molly’s
monologue into categories of revolution; precession;
nutation; planetary precession; secular, annual, diurnal
91
I 2
; motions; and variation of latitude. Just as Molly's cen-^
'tral axis is a unit to which all celestial differences
■must be referred, so too, her thoughts are a unit in the
aovel to thich all previous themes and motifs must be
ireferred. In this way, her monologue is both intensely
personal as well as vastly expansive. It is the perfect
‘ epiphany: the sharpest and most minute focus with maximum
extension at the other end of the conical design.
The eighteen sections of Ulysses are interlocked, and
a knowledge of each part is necessary for an understanding
of the whole. For each section of the novel there is a
;dominant organ as a symbol. Together these organs compose
'the whole body, which is the structure of Ulysses. Like a
living organism, its life depends on the interdependence of
the parts. Joyce uses a synthetic method where the con
struction of the novel proceeds by an agglomeration of
details, odds and ends, sentence fragments, and seemingly
casual connectives. Characters move through an environment
and react to it, while the reader enters their minds "in
medias res" without the author's assistance. Often a
thought, rising to the surface under the influence of some
internal or external stimulus, is merely a fragment.
Allusions are encountered long before they are explained or
2
Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce's "Ulysses" (New York,
1952), pp. 401-402.
92
associated, but in most cases, sooner or later, another
^thought or action will come up that will be associated with
,the former allusion. The piece of paper in Bloom's hatband,
which is introduced at the beginning of the novel, is only
explained in subsequent sections. In "Sirens” when Bloom
is leaving, he says to Richie Goulding: "Well, so long.
High grade, card inside; yes." (286) This statement is
meaningless if the reader has forgotten the earlier episode.
Elements furnished are partial and must be completed
later. The most diverse phenomena all have equal share in
■making up the all encompassing whole of Ulysses. In the
various sections of the novel, things are elevated and then
brought down. This movement is reinforced through images
of circulation and cyclic return. In "Lestrygonians,"
Bloom notices the futile routine of things, and especially
the trams endlessly circulating. The idea of circulation
is given a fuller development in "Aeolus" with countless
images of trams, mail vans, and newspapers radiating out
3
from the center of the city. From the beginning of this
section trams are dispatched in various directions from
Nelson's Pillar. Then, with the events of the section con
cluded, the reader is again provided with a description of
Nelson's Pillar and the departures and arrivals of the
'trams. Also, the movement of expansion and contraction is
3
Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce's "Ulysses," p. 193.
93
^contained within the chapter itself. Newspaper headlines
move forward through a history of journalism, while the
1 4
.speeches move backwards toward antiquity and their source.
Finally, the historico-literary technique is a preparation
for the grand stylistic virtuosity of "Oxen of the Sun."
i Like Joyce, Belyj constructs Petersburg around the
principles of expansion and cyclic recurrence. The novel
consists of ten chapters with a prologue and an epilogue.
The ten chapters, or the novel proper, are based on the
principle of totality and completion: they include every
thing from A to Z. The first chapter begins with the name
Apollon Apollenovic (A) and the last chapter concludes with
"parent." (In Russian the word used is "raditelja," "ja"
being the last letter of the alphabet.) The same principle
is found in the first chapter where everything from alpha
to omega is included. Omega occurs as an illuminated sign
advertising Omega watches. (Casy Omega) Therefore, the
beginning is but the end, and also, an association is
created with the clockwork mechanism of the bomb. Much of
the imagery at the end of Petersburg is the same as in the
first chapter, only it is expanded. The fireplace and
chimney sweeps at the beginning of the novel become the fire
caused by the bomb and the firemen. The water used to put
out the fire is introduced in the first chapter through
4
Rhetorical devices are listed in Gilbert , pp. 194-198.
94
V
jApollon Apollonovic's pun about the toilet cleaner.
* v
!(vaterklazetcik)
In a similar manner, the Prologue reflects the novel
proper and the Epilogue. With the last paragraph of the
Prologue the narrator proclaims the existence of Petersburg
because it is a mathematical point on a map.
But Petersburg is not merely imaginary;
it can be located on maps in the shape of two
concentric circles and a black dot, which has
no defined measurement, proclaims energetically
that it exists: from this dot comes the
impetuous surge of words which make the pages
of a book; and from this invisible point
circles rapidly spread. (2)
The black dot is the point from which the novel expands, and
■the novel's structure is circular. One circle is contained
within another just as the bomb is in a sardine can, which
is in the study, which is in the Ableuxov house, which is
in Petersburg, which is in the novel, the structure of which
is circular, and which can be defined as a dot contained in
two concentric circles. In this way, the last paragraph of
the Prologue, which expands from a given point and returns
back to itself, traces the organizational design of
Petersburg.
In the section of his book on Andrej Belyj that deals
with Petersburg, Mo^ul'skij writes that "In order to under
stand the laws of this world, the reader must first of all
leave his logical habits beyond the threshold: here common
95
sense is abolished and causal bonds are weakened."- Images
i
are created within images and impressions are piled upon
i
impressions. Belyj does not probe deeply, but rather builds
up: elaborate descriptions replace probing and complication
replaces resolution. Every circle has the capability of
becoming a sphere and in turn a cycle, while the novel
itself is a circle and movement in the novel is circular.
Belyj describes the cyclic progression of time when he
writes that "There is an end to autumn; and the winter too
has an end: the periods of time are progressing cycli
cally." (299). The circle and cyclic recurrence is
reinforced by the image of Ouroboras, the serpent swallowing
its tail. It is expressed by the river Neva, by the crowds
that circulate along the Nevskij Prospect, by the noose
that Sofia Petrovna sees, and especially by the Epilogue.
By the time the reader reaches the Epilogue he has come to
the letter "Z" (ja) and the end of one life cycle. However,
there are many correspondences between the details of the
Epilogue and that of the novel proper: for example, the
geometric forms in the description of physical structures
such as houses and pyramids. But with the explosion of the
bomb the reader again, as in the Prologue, breaks out beyond
: the confines of Petersburg. As in a circle or in the image
of Ouroboras, the end is only the beginning.
^ Konstantin Vasilevic Mocul'skij, Andrej Belyj
(Paris, 1955), p. 169.
96
' The revolutionary's bomb is a central, unifying symbol
in the novel. Thematically, Petersburg describes two days
that led to the revolution of 1905, and with the explosion
t
of the bomb occurs the destruction of old conventions and
i
traditions, both literary and social, and the hope of a
new spiritual life based on new associations. Structurally,
the organization of the novel depends on what might be
called the explosion of literary device. Some detail, such
as the bomb, or device, such as the double, is taken and
expanded to enormous proportions. Yet the detail or device
'is never alone, but incorporated into the novel's texture
to create countless allusions and associations. The bomb
itself has the capability of expanding in all directions,
and in the course of the novel it grows in importance and
seemingly in size. Its growth can be traced from the first
allusion to a clockwork mechanism (casavoj mexanizm) to the
inevitable explosion.
In Petersburg, the device of the double expands outward
from the bomb itself. Thematically, the bomb contains both
destruction and salvation, while structurally, it is square
with round corners (sardinnica). The split embodied in the
bomb is enlarged to include all of the main characters, the
city of Petersburg, Russia, the Russian Empire, and the
^dichotomy of East and West. Compositionally everything
ends with an explosion and a zero. The bomb destroys the
;family unit and puts an end to a certain way of life.
i
; 97
Yet it is also spring, there is a new communication between
[father and son, and the start of a new cycle is implied,
i The novel consists of moments that turn into circles,
j
expand, and then turn upon themselves and return to the
f
zero. The bomb itself contains within its structure the
principles of centrifugal movement and expansion
(
(rassirenie), and of centripetal movement and breaking
through. Such a movement, which is contained in the bomb,
is associated with everything in the novel. Like the bomb,
the incident of the red domino is blown out of proportion
by gossip and newspaper accounts. For the Senator the idea
of expansion is connected with the destructive threat posed
by the islands and is a source of fear and physical dis
comfort, This is further developed by the fact that Apollon
Apollonovic suffers from an enlarged heart, (rassirenie
,serdca) Also, the Senator's vision has the capacity
suddenly to expand in all directions. When the Senator
catches sight of Dudkin, who is carrying a parcel containing
the bomb, his response anticipates the inevitable explosion
and carries the idea of expansion to its logical end.
iDudkin is detached from the crowd and becomes an enormous
red sphere.
...one of those dots, tearing itself out of its
orbit, bore down upon him [the Senator] with
j dizzying speed, assuming the form of a huge red
■ sphere. (18-19)
98
jThis scene occurs in the section entitled: "And having
J
: caught sight of him, they expanded, lit up, and gleamed."
i
’(18) The title describes Dudkin's eyes, but also suggests
i
.expansion, the destructive threat of the islands, and the
^omb; for the bomb’s capacity to explode, implies a dynamism
lacking in the rigid structure of the city. The zig-zag
motion of the parcel also violates the strict geometric
order of the center of Petersburg, which is so dear to the
Senator.
Nikolaj, the Senator's son, feels..; that he is the very
center of a radiating power and that he can become the
center of the universe.
...and Nikelaj Apollonovic’s consciousness,
separating from his body, became directly
connected with the electric lamp on his desk,
called the "sun of consciousness...." He felt
his body flooded with the "universe," that is,
with the room; the head of his body was confounded
with the head of the pot-bellied lamp bulb under
the rakish lampshade.
And having so removed himself, Nikolaj
Apollonovic was indeed becoming a creative being.
(42)
Nikolaj Apollonovic is also the bomb.
"Oh, oh: what's it mean, I am?
Zero ...
And zero?
A bomb ..." y
Nikolaj Apollonovic understood that he was the
bomb: and, having burst, gave a bang. (270)
He has a hallucination where a small bouncing ball grows
;and turns into the enormous figure of Pepp Peppovic Pepp.
The ball "would often assume the appearance of a spherical
99
|fat gentleman; the fat gentleman, having become an oppresive
'sphere, would get rounder, rounder, rounder and threated to
j
ifall with all of his weight: ’Pepp ... Peppovic ... Pepp
i
...' And -- he would burst into pieces." Nikolaj would
i
shout that "he, too, was growing round, that he was a zero."
;(255-256) The hallucination of Pepp Peppovic is associated
with the exploding bomb. This association is reinforced by
the explosive sound of the letter ”P" in his name; which,
incidently, is also found in the name Apollonovic.
Through its association with cycles, time, and clocks,
there is an expanding verbal shape for the bomb created in
the novel. The initial allusion informs the reader that
the parcel does not contain a bonbonniere. The pun, based
on the word "bonbon" as opposed to "bomba," is a fore
shadowing of the parcel's actual contents. In the first
chapter, while the Senator is eating breakfast, the silence
in the house is only disturbed by the ticking of the cuckoo
clock and by the mouse. During breakfast the Senator
checks his own watch: the clockwork mechanism by which he
regulates his life. The expression clockwork mechanism
(casovoj mexanizm) is used twice in this chapter. (33-34)
The word bomb is first used by Sofia Petrovna in chapter
£
Discussed in Helene Hartmann, "Andrej Belyj and the
jHermetic Tradition: A Study of the Novel Petersburg,
Diss. Columbia, 1969. pp. 128-131.
1 ^ The mouse is associated with the Senator. See this
study, Chapter V, p. 193,
100
four when she thinks about the letter she is to hand over t
and about Nikolaj's involvement in the assassination plot.
The term "sardinnica" is first mentioned at the beginning
of chapter five, entitled: "Which is about the little man
with a wart near the nose and about the sardinnica of
'horrible content." (226) It is at this point that the two
essential components of the bomb, the clockwork mechanism
and the sardinnica, are fused.
The ambivalent nature of the bomb is defined by the
juxtaposition of the clockwork mechanism with the sardine
can. The bomb at any moment can expand and bring death and
destruction. From the moment the bomb is mentioned an
explosion is expected and "everything is already falling
down; and -- there will be: nightmare, abyss and the
bomb .... The bomb is a fast expansion of gases..." (255)
The bomb is an object of both disgust and fascination. As
a child Nikolaj was sick from eating sardines; in the tavern,
Nikolaj watches as Morkovin tries to spear a sardine with a
fork and then drunkenly observes the restaurant expand into
infinity. The masquerade ball is both paradigmatic of the
entire novel and associated with the bomb. The network of
mirrors in the main hall creates images of endless reflec
tion and expansion. The ball comes at the end of the first
day and with its conclusion, and with the charging of the
bomb, the pace of the novel accelerates.
I
i
101
Finally, the bomb explodes, sets fire to the Ableuxov
house, but kills no one. However, the explosion of the
bomb and Lippancenko1s violent and horrible death occur
during the same night. There is a contrast created by the
association of the explosion of gases in the bomb and the
Igases that escape from Lippancenko's pierced stomach. Both
scenes include the idea of breaking through from one cycle
to another. The bomb, the unicorn's horn, and the scissors
are instruments that tear walls apart! Yet Dudkin's
stabbing of Lippancenko leads nowhere: Lippancenko dies
and Dudkin goes mad. On the other hand, the explosion of
the bomb refers to the "explosion of mental forces." It
changes tangible details into fragmented subjective impres
sions, emphasizes the mental process and a new way of
perceiving reality. The space between father and son is
abolished and the Senator is no longer in the house but in
the garden. Nikolaj's eyesight is impaired, perhaps imply
ing a new inner vision. A violent revolution did take
place, but it led nowhere and is referred to in a tone of
jdisappointment and sadness. The explosion of the bomb,
however, leads to a freedom from material things and a
destruction of past cultural and literary values.
In Ulysses and Petersburg the organizational pattern of
’ expansion is created through the analogical juxtaposition
;of characters, scenes, and situations. Both novels are
102
based on the interrelations of epiphanies and symbols, and
i
on their arrangement and juxtaposition. Juxtaposition, in
,fact, is a means by which epiphanies and symbols are crea--
I
ted. Diverse elements are brought together in the epiphany
And symbol, and the relationships between the epiphanies
and symbols themselves are not overtly expressed. There
are scores of personal symbols that have shifting signifi
cance in different contexts and whose relationships are
'created by means of such minimum linguistic connectives as:
verbal echoes, flexible and elliptical syntax, suggestion,
and juxtaposition. For example, in Ulysses there are .
scores of symbolic themes such as "agenbite of inwit,"
"parrallax," "seaside girls," dfowning, Hamlet, and the
jingle of Boylan's carriage, that help create the characters
themselves. They are a means of presenting an individual
•character from whom thoughts and perceptions radiate and
to whom they are constantly returning.
Juxtaposition is a device that affords both Joyce and
Belyj an apparent spontaneity of life and the most subtle
artistic method of expression. It is an instrument of a
method that shapes and renders deliberately and which is
both critical and dramatic. Perhaps the most significant
I juxtaposition created in the two novels is between outer,
iusually sober reality and inward richness. As with the
‘ technique of montage, elliptical transitions are created --
transitions from the objective to the subjective and back
; 103
■again. Joyce and Belyj make their environment an analogous
image to the structure of the mind. Both Bloom and Stephen
are urban dwellers; as they wander through the narrow laby-
inthine streets of Dublin, there is a sense of imprisonment.
Stephen's hope of breaking out is the hope of Daedalus and
Icarus, while Bloom dreams of a concert tour and other ways
of making money. Blazes Boylan and Molly also hope to go
on a concert tour. Finally, the environment itself re
inforces the idea of imprisonment and the hope of breaking
out.
In "Ithaca" the star is only a tiny spot when viewed
from earth. The chapter is constructed on the laws of
Newtonian geometry -- circles, squares, and parallel lines
pervade this section. As in a labyrinth, geometric forms
are set in contrast and tension to each other. For example,
when the arrangement of Bloom's furniture is described, a
symmetrical juxtaposition of geometrical forms is created.
Describe the alterations effected in the
disposition of the articles of furniture? ...
two chairs had been moved from right and left
of the ingleside to the position originally
occupied by the blue and white checker inlaid
majolicatopped table.
Describe them.
One: a squat stuffed easychair with stout
arms extended and back slanted to the rere;
which, repelled in recoil, had then upturned
an irregular fringe of the rectangular rug and
now displayed on its amply unholstered seat a
centralised diffusing and diminishing dis
colouration. The other: a slender splayfoot
chair of glossy cane curves, placed directly
opposite the former, its frame from top to
seat and from seat to base being varnished dark
104
! brown, its seat being a bright circle of
white plaited rush.
What significances attached to these
; two chairs?
Significances of similitude, of posture
of symbolism, of circumstantial evidence,
of testimonial supermanence. (705)
The entire chapter of "Ithaca" is juxtaposed to "Nausicaa"
; where the star and radiance dominate while geometric forms
i
diminish. The radiance of the star predicts the fireworks
that illuminate Gerty McDowell's limp. Also, it is in this
section that Bloom relieves himself of some of the tensions
that have been mounting in him throughout the day.
The summer evening had begun to fold the
world in its mysterious embrace. Far away
in the west the sun was setting and the
last glow of all too fleeting day lingered
lovingly on sea and strand, on the proud
promotory of dear old Wowth guarding as
ever the waters of the bay, on weedgrown
rocks along Sandymount shore and last but
not least, on the quiet church whence there
streamed forth at times upon the stillness
the voice of prayer to her who is in her
pure radiance a beacon ever to the storm-
tossed heart of man, Mary, star of the sea. (346)
At another level, the river Liffey cuts Dublin in half.
In "Wandering Rocks" the Liffey represents the Bosphorus
and its clashing rocks. One bank is the Asiatic side which
contains Father Conmee and spiritual power; the other bank
is the European side and contains the viceroy and temporal
power. Therefore, topography reflects the Hebraic/Hellenic
dichotomy embodied in Bloom and Stephen. In a similar
manner the river Neva divides the city of Petersburg into
Western and Eastern sections. The split in the city
105
underlines the contending attitudes of father and son. In
!
both Ulysses and Petersburg paternity is a more powerful
motif than is sexual love. The method of reinforcing, this
I
i
motif is through expansion and juxtaposition, and through
multiplying instances of similar behavior. Richard Ellmann
suggests that Ulysses can be divided into groups of three
; g
chapters each. Such a triadic organization consists of
thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, and is a means by which
a blending of the two ends of Western tradition, as ex
pressed in the paternity motif, is achieved.
The theme of paternity is first introduced in "Tele-
machus" when Haines speaks of the Father and the Son and the
Son striving to be atoned with the Father. Another theme
introduced here is Stephen's remorse for the refusal to
obey his mother's last wish -- "agenbite of inwit."
Similarly, throughout the novel, Bloom recalls the death of
his son and the suicide of his father; these thoughts are
especially amplified in the "Hades" section. Stephen is the
Greek/Christian/Irish son seeking a father. Conversely,
Bloom is the Greek (he is Ulysses)/Jewish/Irish father seek
ing a son. Stephen and Bloom are both similar and
different, and a major motif in the novel is the spiritual
relationship that arises between these two characters who
are seemingly poles apart. They are apparently complete
I
i 8
Richard Ellmann, Ulysses on the Liffey (New York,
1972) , p. 19.
106
^opposites, but there are also many resemblances; Joyce
^emphasizes and underlines their resemblances by making
jBloom a spiritual father to Stephen.
Stephen’s thoughts are complex and are concerned with
metaphysical speculation, while Bloom's are alert and range
jover a vast area of experience. Stephen is all spirit,
while Bloom is physical and has a penchant for inner as
well as outer organs. One is inward looking, the other out-
.ward; one is interested in metaphysics, the other in
i
physics; Bloom yearns for the East, Stephen does not. In
"Calypso," Bloom's mind wanders to thoughts of the East; he
imagines mosques and bazaars, orange groves and immense
melon fields. Bloom's mind is still yearning for the Orient
in "Lotus Eaters" when he sees a merchant's display of
ICeylonian tea. The theme of the East and of the Promised
Land is destroyed by Stephen in his parable, "A Pisgah Sight
of Palestine or the Parable of the Plums." Also, Stephen's
youthful point of view is here juxtaposed to Bloom's more
mature point of view; this is achieved by confronting them
iwith similar ideas and places.
Throughout the novel Stephen and Bloom repeat each
other; the events of the day with which they are confronted
!are juxtaposed and recapitulated at different levels. For
example, both characters are on Sandymount strand -- Stephen
,in the morning, Bloom in the evening. Although it is
: evening, Bloom's impressions of the beach are clearer and
10 7
Imore defined than those of Stephen; the latter's being re-
j
ffacted through introspection and speculation. Bloom's and
;Stephen's attitudes toward outward reality and toward each
other are also expanded and recapitulated by their doubles.
I
Dr. Bloom is not Leopold Bloom, rather he is a successful
; dentist and represents the kind of financial security and
acceptance Bloom yearns for. Bloom is Ulysses, but there
is also the false Ulysses, a double, that appears in
"Eumaeus." It is he that mistakes Stephen for the son of a
‘ Mr. Dedalus who shot eggs off bottles over his shoulder,
left-handed, in Stockholm, in Hengler's Royal Circus. Even
though the false Ulysses is mistaken, the description of
the second Mr. Dedalus reinforces and expands our under
standing of the relationship between Stephen and his natural
father. Simon Dedalus does not work in a circus but could:
he is an extrovert and a performer, while his son is an
introvert. Although he lives in Dublin and not in
Stockholm, there is no communication between father and son
and a great gulf separates them.
i Stephen and Bloom also resemble each other; both are
icut off from their families: one through a refusal of a
ideathbed wish the other through infidelity. A degree of
;parallelism is established from the beginning of the novel
twhen the first six sections dealing with Stephen and Bloom
cover the same hours. Such a parallelism is continued
throughout Ulysses: in "Wandering Rocks," while Bloom is
108
! .
jbuying Sweets of Sin, Stephen is looking through a book of
'charms on how to obtain a woman's love. The parallel lines
lof Stephen's and Bloom's movement through the novel begin
to converge in their dreams. Stephen's dream portends
events that will happen in the course of the day: Stephen's
encounter with Bloom, and Bloom's help after the "Circe"
section. On Sandymount strand when Stephen thinks about
his dream, he recalls being awakened by an "open hallway.
Street of harlots." (47) He also remembers a man who held
!a melon against his face. The melon is associated with
Bloom: in "Calypso" he dreams of melon fields and in
"Ithaca" we learn that Bloom likes melons. Furthermore,
Bloom also dreams of prostitution and adultery on Sandymount
strand. With these two dreams that reflect each other,
Stephen and Bloom move toward a dramatic confrontation that
is to occur in "Circe."
In "Circe" Stephen's and Bloom's thoughts, apprehens
sions, and ideas are fused. The climax to introspective
drama is achieved in the brothel where perceptions are mixed
:and confounded. During the day Stephen had read "Nebrakada
femininum," but Molly's apparition repeats it to Bloom.
!Bloom noted that Martin Cunningham's face resembles
'Shakespeare's, yet Shakespeare in the guise of Martin
ICunningham appears to Stephen. Stephen sees cyclists that
Bloom saw on a poster earlier the same day. Also, Stephen's
mother repeats words that were in Bloom's mind earlier.
’
109
i
!She tells her son that "I pray for you in that other world."
!
In a letter to Bloom, Martha Clifford wrote, "I do not like
i
that other world" (she meant to type "word"). This mistake
had worried Bloom throughout the day. In the brothel
Stephen and Bloom are at last fused like the flies that are
stuck together on a window pane in the "Sirens" chapter.
Hatohas met ashplant creating an androgyne. Throughout the
novel Stephen's ashplant is juxtaposed to Bloom's hat;
Bloom, in fact, has a minor obsession with hats. He
worries abodt his own hat, he rightens a hat in "Hades," he
’ hands Stephen his hat, and is proud of having once handed
Parnell his hat. But the attraction of opposites is not
enough to produce a synthesis; after positive and negative
■poles have come together, their energy is spent. The cou
pling is accompanied by lightning in the "Oxen of the Sun"
and by a short circuit in the brothel. These two characters
who are at last united, are spent and have really nothing
to say to each other. It is now Molly's turn.
Molly is also of mixed origin: she is Spanish/Jewish/
:Irish. But hers is a geocentric view, and East and West
join here. She combines and incorporates "Greeks and jews
and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all ends of
Europe..." (782) At their widest level (the three sections
of the novel), the tensions of Stephen and Bloom, which
have been mounting throughout the day, unite at last in
Molly. A spiritual kinship arises between the potential
1 110
lartist Stephen, intransigent, sensitive, brilliant, and
i
paralyzed by his mind, and citizen Bloom, a rather bumbling
i • ■
bourgeois. But neither of the principle characters is
complete in himself. Only through Molly, sceptical, prac
tical, and "natural" can there be a final affirmation.
In Petersburg, as in Ulysses, the organizational pattern
of the novel is created by the expansion of juxtaposed
characteristics.. Belyj takes up the theme of a split per
sonality, but instead of confining it to a central character
;he expands it outward. The theme of the double, like the
;bomb, literally explodes and is attributed by the author to
the Russian psyche in general, to the capital city of
Petersburg, to the Russian Empire, and to the world (East/
IWest). The novel is about Petersburg; in the course of
this work, the city, which is defined by its topography,
comes alive and is a character as dynamic as any of the
.individuals.who inhabit it. Its symbol is the statue of
Peter, the Bronze Horseman, by whose will the city had been
created. The statue also comes alive; it follows Dudkin
into his room, sits down beside him, smokes a pipe, and
then pours itself down Dudkin's throat. Like all the other
characters, Petersburg shares in the problem of not being
able to establish its identity and of possessing a duality
that is inherent in its nature.
In the Prologue, Belyj attempts to define Petersburg.
Through a comparison with Moscow he concludes that
111
! ------------------------------------------------------------------
^''Petersburg is not the capital. If Petersburg is not the
I ■ -
capital, then there is no Petersburg. Then its existence
!
is merely imaginary." (2) It is a city whose topography is
!
divided by the river Neva: Petersburg lies partly on the
mainland and partly on the islands at the mouth of the
river. On the mainland is the Western section which is
strictly geometrical and is as precise and artificial as its
bureaucracy. The streets, rectilinear avenues, and flat
.squares of the city are described as a system of pyramids,
; triangles, and cubes. One of the sections of the novel is
entitled, "Squares, Parallelopipeds, Cubes." (12) The
magnificence and regulated plan of the central city is
juxtaposed to the shabbiness and random arrangement of the
islands and the outlying areas. Such a juxtaposition
■expresses the opposite poles of intellectual conflict in
the novel and creates the sense of an artificial structure
imposed on the natural order of things.
Underneath the imposed structure, and especially across
the river, there is a seething Asiatic turmoil that
threatens to destroy the established geometric patterns.
The islands off the right bank of the Neva, with their
slums and factories, are filled with an energy that threat
ens to explode and to break up the squares. These islands
are inhabited by the workers, malcontents, and revolution
aries that instill such terror in the Senator. They are
a threat, and their means of communication with the mainland
I 112
are the bridges that radiate out from the islands. The
narrator exclaims that "black and moist bridges are thrown
across the waters of Lethe. They ought to be torn down...."
(17) The realm of the islands seems always to be expanding
and swelling toward an annihilating zero.
In Petersburg man is more the victim than the master of
the environment he has created for himself. Even the por
trayal of the natural environment is negative. The whirl
wind motion of red and yellow leaves predicts the revolu
tion and the Mongol threat. The city itself is both a
point on the map and an infinite circle of consciousness.
There is infinity in the infinity of avenues
running with infinity into the infinity of running
intersecting shadows. All Petersburg is the infinity
of an avenue raised to the nth power.
Beyond Petersburg, there is nothing. (15)
Like the bomb that contains a clockwork mechanism within a
i
[sardine can, Petersburg is artificial, mechanical, man-made,
I
|and hermetically sealed. When the bomb explodes, so does
[Petersburg, pointing to the futility of a mechanized and
'hermetically sealed existence.
j
| The split inherent in the city Petersburg is a topo-
1 .
(graphical equivalent to the minds of the main characters m
the novel.^ Belyj writes that "Every prominent literary
figure in Petersburg has his own double.The notion of
Q
F. D. Reeve, "A Geometry of Prose," Kenyon Review,
2 5 (1963), p. 9-25.
10 v
Andrej Belyj, "Ivan Alexandrovic Xlestakov,"
StoliEnoe utro. Oct. 18, 1907, p. 1.
________________________ 113
!a double existence is perhaps best expressed in Dudkin*s
V v v ^
^palindromic vision of Sisnarfne/Enfransis. Nikolaj explains
I
this phenomenon to Dudkin: "It is a common urban feature,
i
a shop window full of reflections, a man has just passed by
and look... Here we are, do you see? It all seems so
strange." (297) It is difficult to discuss the psycho-
11
logical development of Belyj's characters in Petersburg.
As in Ulysses, the characters are fully developed from the
beginning, and further examination by the author only
reveals other possible attributes of a finished product.
Belyj does not use the device of fhe double to explore the
inner workings of a man's mind, but expands it outward from
the characters themselves. This expansion is achieved by
the juxtaposition of certain traits and themes and the
multiplication of their possible externalizations. In other
words, the Senator and Nikolaj can be interpreted as the
opposite extremes of a single organism, while the person
alities of each, taken independently, are also split. Both
have fully autonomous objective correlatives in Dudkin and
.Lippancenko. But Dudkin's and Lippancenko*s personalities
are also split, and they stand in the same relationship to
ieach other as do Nikolaj and the Senator.
The Senator delights in a bureaucratic sense of order:
Ihe is efficient, organized, and rational. Cubes and squares
11 ^
For a discussion of this point, see Mocul'skij,
Andrej Belyj.
______________________________________________________ 114
irelax the Senator, but he is terrified by roundness, the
color red, and the working class especially fills him with
!
dread.
The systemization and symmetry soothed the
x Senator's nerves, which had been agitated both
\ v by :the.:lack of smoothness in his domestic life
•’ and by the futile circling of our wheel of
government. (12)
When we are first introduced to the Senator, he is involved
in the typical action of giving a perfectly finished form
to a pencil tip; when he is disturbed the Senator vents his
frustrations by breaking pencils. He serves in his official
capacity from the mathematical point of his study, and he
has arranged both his bedroom and his study into an enormous
filing system. The system is based on alphabetization
according to Latin letters and on the points of the compass.
Whenever the Senator feels that he needs something he might
direct his attention to drawer B, Northeast. Geometric
forms are the external equivalents for the Senator's mind.
They are the laws and functions by which he perceives the
reality that surrounds him.
... inspiration would overcome the Senator's
soul when the lacquered cube [his carriage]
would cut the line of the Nevskij .... Next to
a straight line, the figure of a square
relaxed him most of all ... At the point of
intersection stood a policeman. (13-14)
Through an observance of the strictest geometrical
order and symmetry, the Senator hopes to protect himself
from a chaos and destruction that he intuitively feels is
115
Imminent. He is especially terrified by the islands which
are the center for revolutionary intrigue and where Dudkin's
apartment is located. The Senator would like to "Bind them
to the earth with the steel of an enormous bridge and pierce
J
them in every direction with the prospect's arrow...." (14)
iFurthermore, the Senator knows that he is a descendant of
Oriental ancestry. In his dreams he hears the tongue
clicking of a Mongol and this horrifies him. Also, the
Senator's name reveals his Mongol origin (Ab-lai-ukh), and
in the novel the Mongol hordes are equated with chaos and
destruction. Yet the Senator, in his cubes, is also iso
lated and lonely.
Nikolaj, the Senator's son, also has troubles with his
identity. This is complicated by the fact that Nikolaj is
sick, and suffers from depression, hallucinations, head
aches, and too much vodka. Like his father he is a
descendant of Oriental ancestry, but now is culturally a
Western European. In his dreams and hallucinations he sees
himself as an ancient Turanian, who has been reincarnated
■as a Russian. Nikolaj is highly conscious of his Mongolian !
heritage, and feels that he is the messenger of chaos and
destruction. And yet, Nikolaj is not quite a Mongol.
Nikolaj resembles his father, and throughout the novel he
is obsessed by the question of where his father begins and
where he leaves off. With a touch of irony, Belyj states
116
that "Soon we will doubtless be able to demonstrate to the
|
reader the split into two halves of Nikolaj Apollonovi^'s
soul.'-' (2 70)
The idea of the double, which is developed in each
Ableuxov separately, is further expanded through their
jrelationship to each other. The Senator sees the Mongolian
side of his personality as his son's dominant trait. He
hates and fears him for this, and in his dreams the Senator
becomes a filicide. However, he also loves his son and
often recalls the most tender moments from Nikolaj's child
hood. He remembers when "they had paced the empty rooms --
he still a boy, and his father; and patting his fair-haired
son on the shoulder, the father had also pointed to the
stars.... The tender hearted father had also written some
verse for his son." (130) Yet when the Senator remembers
how he would give his son rides on his shoulder, he is
unconsciously thinking avout his son's attempted patricide.
The Senator's thoughts are associated with the murder of
Lippancenko and with Dudkin's mad parody of the Bronze
Horseman when he climbs onto the corpse.
Nikolaj, on the other hand, feels that he resembles
his father too much and despises that half of himself.
Nikolaj's hatred for his father becomes self-hatred, and
his will to destroy the Senator is his own death wish. In
■the novel he has several hallucinations of attempted
patricide.
! 117
I Nikolaj Apollonovic paused on the stairway,
! carpeted with velvet, which was growing lighter
(it had been trod by the feet of ministers) ;
j from the window, a network of crimson patches
of light fell at his feet upon the very spot
I where his father had tripped. This network of
crimson spots for some reason reminded him of
blood (the blood reddened on the ancient
weaponry as well). (247)
iThe association created here with ancient weaponry predicts
the scissors that Dudkin is to use. A second hallucination
is more closely tied to the actual explosion of the bomb.
After a burst of sunlight illuminates his residence, Nikolaj
has a vision of a gigantic, thousand-pawed tarantula that
casts itself in a mad frenzy upon the earth. When Nikolaj
accepts the bomb, the ambivalent nature of his feelings
become most overt. He charges the bomb, is ready to place
it in his father's study, but then the thought of murdering
his father horrifies him and he leaves it in his own room.
An explosion must take place, but most of the novel concerns
itself with Nikolaj’s vacillations.
Like all of the other characters in the novel, the
Senator and Nikolaj are lonely and isolated and strive
toward a communication. Rooms and houses in Petersburg are
;metonymic extensions of the characters' minds and create a
■false sense of durability and rigidity. Nikolaj's room is
;a complete antithesis to his father's severe study. Because
the door to Nikolaj's room is always closed, the Senator
considers drilling a hole through the wall that separates
him from his son's room. It finally takes the bomb to bring
118
Idown this wall. The idea of breaking through is reinforced
j
by the images of doors and windows. The sound of banging
i
;doors frightens the Senator and is associated with the hoof-
i
beats of the Bronze Horseman and the bomb's explosion. The
Lixutins have separate bedrooms and bang their doors after
ian argument. During the attempted suicide, they eavesdrop
,on each other through the door of their apartment; the open
ing of this door ushers in a new relationship. Furthermore,
the door of the Lixutin apartment is closed to Nikolaj while
the door to Lippancenko's house is closed to Dudkin. Before
the murder Dudkin spies on Lippancenko through a window.
Finally, at the widest level, as in Puskin's poem, Peters
burg is a window to Europe: the possible union of East and
Wes t.
Belyj juxtaposes images, symbols and themes, to expand
the possible meanings of his novel. The bomb is an obvious
example. The duality explored in the city Petersburg and
in the main characters is also a description of the bomb.
Its mechanism is held in a sardine can which is square
with rounded edges. Explosion, contained in the bomb, is
cjcmfdlxcf;, revolution, Russia, apocalypse, and a new order --
which is the novel itself. Through the use of the bomb,
;Nikolaj wants to kill his father for purely private motives.
iHowever, since the father is a high Russian official, and
the assassination plot has been planned by a group of
.revolutionaries, the bomb takes on political meaning.
;A family tragedy then represents a national and universal
Conflict. Juxtaposition is used to describe the bomb, all
iof the main characters, and Petersburg; while the city
represents all of Russia. The novel begins with the
question "What is our Russian Empire?" (1) From the answer,
it is obvious that the Russian Empire has no organic unity,
that it is so disparate its unity can be represented only
within the square framework of a map. Like its capital
city and like its inhabitants, it has no identity and its
character is split.
Compositionally, everything in the novel ends with an
explosion and the annihilating zero. The results of the
explosion are found in the Epilogue. There is now a new
communication between father and son; Nikolaj follows his
father's advice and is working in Egypt. However, if the
iexplosion of the bomb opens up communication, it does not
create a union. Nikolaj's parents die, Dudkin loses his
mind, and Lippancenko also dies. Nikolaj is left alone to
continue on to a new cycle of life. If there is any union
in this novel, then it is the implied relationship that
develops between the Lixutins. Therefore, the only union
of disparate elements possible, is achieved, as in Ulysses,
through Sofia Petrovna's final feminine affirmation.
In both Ulysses and Petersburg, the shaping activity of
the artist, juxtaposing epiphanies and symbols to ever
widening levels of significance, is felt. Behind the main
'characters lurks the author, whose presence is felt through
juxtapositions, shifting styles, and points of view.
Belyj's narrative technique, however, differs significantly
from Joyce’s. Petersburg can be viewed as the "oral mono
logue" of a siggle subjective consciousness; the narrator,
Who is the author himself, remains the same throughout the
novel. In Ulysses, on the other hand, narrative technique
12
often changes abruptly. The novel begins with an omni
scient narrator; he is not, however, heavily involved in
the narrative, since "Telemachus” is conversational and
-relies mostly on dialogue. Slowly, in the first three
'sections of Ulysses, the narrator disappears and stream of
'consciousness takes over. The same movement is repeated in
the presentation of Leopold Bloom from "Calypso" to
"Lestrygonians." In this way, narrative technique creates
'a juxtaposition of minds. Stephen and Bloom have similar
concerns, such as: history, religion, literature, science,
time, but Bloom's speculations are much less sophisticated.
Through the first six sections of Ulysses the pattern
of a movement from omniscient narrator to stream of con
sciousness is established. The reader grows accustomed to
such a pattern and expects its continuation, or, at least,
he expects to view reality through the impressions of the
main characters. But as he does throughout the novel,
Schutte and Steinburg, pp. 157-178.
121
:Joyce undermines such an expectation. In ’’ Aeolus" and
i
'especially in "Scylla and Charybdis" the author begins to
i
call attention to himself. All of a sudden, there is a
display of verbal and technical virtuosity: "Twicreakingly
13
analysis he corantoed off." (184) The "dramatic" mode of
presentation, where the author withdraws from his narrative,
'gives way to the "epic" mode, where he mediates between the
reader and his material. Joyce then goes on to develop new
techniques -- different for each section. From the "windy"
jmetaphors of "Aeolus" to the nine part structure of the
"Oxen of the Sun" suggesting human growth, style and tech-
14
■nique change as the subject changes.
In sections ten through eighteen, the dominant feature
of Ulysses is not the stream-of-consciousness technique
(although it is used throughout the novel), but rather the
'experiments with technique. Sections ten and eleven
("Wandering Rocks" and "Sirens”) are characterized by a
13
For a discussion of the growing stylistic complexity
in the novel, see S. L. Goldberg, The Classical Temper
(New York, 1961), pp. 248-315/
14
A thorough analysis of Joyce’s technical experiments
in all of the sections is impossible for this study. Much,
however, has already been done. See, for example, Ruth
Bauerle, "A Sober Drunken Speech: Stephen's Parodies in
'Oxen of the Sun,"' James Joyce Quarterly 5 (Fall, 1967),
'40-46; Laurence L. Levin, "The Sirens Episode as Music:
Joyce's Experiment in Prose Polyphony," James Joyce
Quarterly 3 (Fall, 1965), 12-24; Richard E. Madtes, "Joyce
and the Building of 'Ithaca,'" ELH: A Journal of English
Literary History 21 (March, 1964), 443-59.
122
jgrowing complexity in narrative technique. In "Wandering
I
,Rocks" certain incidents occur simultaneously and there is
I
;a transfer of events from one scene into another. The
!
reader is introduced to characters that were briefly men
tioned earlier, and to characters that he will meet later.
For example, Miss Kennedy and Miss Douce will figure
^prominently in the next section, "Sirens." "Sirens" itself
is introduced by a flow of seemingly unrelated fragments.
In this way, the author calls attention to himself as
creator and maker, while the reader is reminded that he is
^reading a highly artificial construction.
In "Cyclops" there is the juxtaposition of a pair of
undependable narrators. One, a simple Dubliner using a
substandard idiom, belittles Bloom and is obviously hostile
to him. The other, magnifies everything beyond recognition
and considers Bloom to be a saint. An important theme is
names, namelessness, and misnomer: the dog Garryowen
becomes Owen Gary. To reinforce the theme of names and
Bloomls association with Elijah, a long list of saints is
provided. In "Nausicaa" the cliches and gushiness of
Gerty's narration are juxtaposed to Bloom's matter-of-fact
style, while "Oxen of the Sun" provides the reader with the
chronological development of English prose. The style of
"Circe" is based on hallucination and in "Eumaeus" the
istyle is that of a police report. In "Ithaca," mundaneness
of details and objective distortion is juxtaposed to the
1 123
isub.jective distortions of "Circe" and "Eumaeus." The final
i
shift in style and the fusion of narrative techniques occur
in "Penelope." With Molly’s internal monologue the world
is again seen through the mind of a single character. No
omniscient narrator is needed: she is in a dark room and
I the reality that surrounds her does not have to be described
[However, the unbroken stream of her thoughts and especially
the removal of .all punctuations again calls attention to
the author's technique.
Belyj’s narrative technique in Petersburg closely
approximates Joyce’s -’epic" mode of presentation. The
narrator is the author himself, the creator of the work,
and mediates between the reader and his creation. However,
stylistic experimentation is not carried out on such a vast
scale, and stylistic shifts are not as abrupt. From the
very beginning, in the Prologue, the reader gets the impres
sion that he is witnessing the very process of writing, or
more precisely, an informal speech. Belyj’s narration is
full of hesitations, faulty logic, inadequate conclusions,
and outbursts of feelings and thoughts. It is the sponta
neous overflow of confusion, and the reader knows that he
'can expect just about anything. The narrator seems to be
;implying the futility of communication; he is elusive and
:the reader does not know when he can believe him. Dudkin
'summarizes Belyj’s method when he states, "I become confused
in every sentence. I wish to say one word and instead say
I ---------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .—
'something completely different: I am always beating around
,the bush." (85)
!
I Narrative technique in Petersburg is sometimes charac-:
terized by straightforward exposition: "And there: the
deep, the greenish murk. There far far away, and seemingly
farther than they should be the islands sank down, appre
hensively; and their buildings crouched too." (11)
Sometimes the narrator allows exclamations to sneak into
his narrative: "oh Russian people." (17) At other times
the narrator turns to the reader and conducts a dialogue
with him: "Between us: Russian people, oh Russian people,
do not allow the shadows from the islands to come near."
(17) The narrator can also be full of savage parody, as for
example the accounts of the political meeting. Often, the
narrator's elusiveness comes about because of his own
ambivalent feelings. The novel abounds in negative descrip
tions of Petersburg, yet the narrator is also in awe of the
city's splendor.
... rows of Gaurds on white horses could be
seen; it seemed as if a golden mirror moved
from point to point, reflecting light. (118)
But above all, the narrator is the creator of the work
'of art and his movement is unrestricted both in time and
•place. He is capable of breaking off his narrative in mid
istream: "Here, at the very beginning I must interrupt the
line of my narration, in order to introduce to the reader
the place of the drama." (12) The narrator is capable of
I 125
iindicating in advance what is going to happen: for example,
I
Dudkin's realization concerning the Bronze Horseman. Many
i
,things are hinted at but only fully explained later: Anna
jPetrovna's return. Finally, the narrator even has the
power to turn fiction into reality: "lately I was at the
, grave ... the cross on it: Apollon Apollonovic Ableuxov --
Senator...." (380-381) The narrator himself says that he
is involved in the ever widening expanses of the plot and
refers to his own experiences in the city. As it turns out,
he was contemplating suicide the night Nikolaj first dresses
up as the red domino. Had he jumped, only a bowler hat, a
cane, and a coat would have been found. (55) But these are
the articles of clothing used to describe the double agent
'Morkovin. Could the narrator be Morkovin, hiding behind a
giant wart on his nose? Seemingly, this is just another
game Belyj is playing with the reader; the possibility is
never developed in the novel.
Although the narrative techniques in Ulysses and Peters
burg are different, both novels call attention to the
creative activity of the author. There is a thinness of
plot and an avoidance of any over committed syntax of
j
events. Things almost happen, but do not; rather, there is
t
;the interaction of diverse attitudes which do not develop
in time but appear as finished products at the beginning of
the novel. The importance of development in time is minimal,
126
while that of spatial development is maximum. Characters
i
move in space but do not develop in time; they can suddenly
,be arrested in midair and suspended there, while the author
i
builds up and expands them at his will. A sense of immedi
acy is created by a series of events in a continuous pr.esent.
Joyce’s and Belyj's awareness of the simultaneity of events
is evident in the fact that they can describe several scenes
occuring at the same time, juxtapose them, and thereby
expand their significance. Extensive recycling of time,
flashbacks, and repeated descriptions of the same scene by
various characters are violations of narrative that call
attention to the author's creative capabilities.
In Ulysses, while standing on the beach at Sandymount
strand, Stephen sees the ship Rosevean. This vision intro
duces the motif of the Flying Dutchman: the attempt to
outsoare the category of time and to create a simultaneous
'universe. Stephen also sees a cloud "shadowing the bay in
deeper green." (9) After time has been recycled, Bloom
sees this cloud at approximately the same time that
i
morning: "A cloud began to cover the sun wholly slowly.
Grey. Far." (61) Stephen and Bloom, the two contrasting
figures that are moving toward each other in Ulysses, are
fhus initially united. In "Wandering Rocks" there is a
'synchronization of events by the transfer of one or more
excerpts from one scene into another, thereby fixing a
correspondence in time and a simultaneity of events. From
her window Molly flings a coin at a passing onelegged sailor
in the first section, but by the third section the sailor h
has not yet reached the window. Or there is a description
of a disk that "shot down the groove, wobbled a while,
ceased and ogled them: six." (232) The sentence is
incomplete until the ninth section where we learn that it
describes Tom Rochford's invention. Often the attempts at
simultaneity are forced. When Bloom is having his erotic
'fantasy about Gerty, his watch, that has stopped, shows
’ 4:30. Actually, it is much later, but 4:30 is the time
when Blazes Boylan was visiting Molly.
In Petersburg, the Flying Dutchman also soars outside
the category of time creating a simultaneous universe. The
.street car as a mechanical mode of transportation is juxta
posed by Belyj to the repeated mention of a mysterious ship
approaching Petersburg.
The Flying Dutchman had flown with his
shadowy sails to Petersburg ... in order to
erect his misty lands here by means of
deception and to give the name of islands to
the surging waves of clouds. (13)
■At the beginning of the novel (much as in Ulysses), the two
contrasting figures of the Senator and Dudkin (Neulovimyj)
are simultaneously set in motion from opposite sides of the
city: one from the geometric city in the cube of his
carriage, the other from Vasilevskij island carrying a
parcel containing the bomb. When they see each other on
' 128
the Nevskij, the expansion of Budkin's eyes predicts the
bomb's explosion.
An example of the recycling of time and of juxtaposition
v
is Sergej Sergeic Lixutin's attempt at suicide, which is
recorded twice. Upon returning from the masquerade ball,
Sofia Petrovna, hears a mysterious and ominous sound through
the locked front door of her apartment.
Presently there was a terrifying crash; it
sounded as if the ceiling had fallen and the
plaster was raining down; in this noise, just
one sound struck Sofia Petrovna Lixutina: the
hollow thud of a heavy human body, falling
from a height. (195)
The scene is very melodramatic, but Belyj immediately under
mines this sensation by shifting to the husband's point of
view. A lengthy description of Sergej Sergeie's ridiculous
and grotesque preparations for suicide ensues. But then,
Sergej Sergeic hears something and goes to the door.
Sergj Sergeic Lixutin laid his head against
the door, he froze; but it was probably the
excitement that gave rise to that degree of
oblivion in which any act became unthinkable.
Sergej Sergic Lixutin did not notice that he
was breathing heavily. (217-218)
After some twenty-five pages the two scenes are united into
an entire picture. Heavily panting husband and worried wife
are eavesdropping on each other through the same door.
Sergej Sergeic then rushes off, tries to hang himself, but
because the ceiling gives way he fails, and at that point
he opens the door for his wife to enter.
129
I In the artifact that is Petersburg the simple turning
of the head can create myriads of possibilities.^ When
Dudkin is in the tavern the narrative is interrupted by the
word "suddenly." The interjection of the word can be
I
explained by the appearance onto the scene of Lippancenko:
:"JHe [Budkin] felt as if a repulsive slime was soaking
through his collar, and pouring down his back." (35) But
before Dudkin can completely turn his head, the narrator
t
.expands the moment into several possibilities: first, a
lengthy description of the Senator; second, the narrator
prepares the scene for Lippancenko's entrance; third, a
discussion of the word "suddenly" as a literary device.
Only after all of this has been completed can the narrative
thread be resumed.
, Discussed in Pierre Romaine Hart, "Andrej Belyj’s
Petersburg and the Myth of the City," Diss. University
of Wisconsin, 1969. p. 172.
CHAPTER IV
POETIC DEVICES
Despite Joyce's and Belyj's important debt to the
.Symbolist movement both in their writings and aesthetic
theories, in Ulysses and Petersburg they are much less con
cerned with complex issues of artistic creation, and much
more alert to the highly personal and self-conscious per
ceptions of their characters. For Joyce, as well as for
Belyj, the epiphany and the aesthetic symbol express both
the naturalistic world of external reality and the impinge
ment of that reality on the individual. They investigate
their characters' perceptions through internal monologue,
stream of consciousness, synesthesia, and a vast array of
orchestral harmonies, developing, interweaving, and recapit
ulating them in the manner of music. In the poetry of the
French symbolists, musical evocation, suggestion, and
implication are used as techniques to communicate complex
ities of meaning. Through language and its devices, Joyce
and Belyj undertake not merely to render as accurately as
possible the actual sights and sounds among which their
characters move, but also to depict the world as their
131
icharacters perceive it. This is accomplished by discovering
j
,the appropriate vocabulary and rhythm which will accurately
i
^represent the thoughts of each character. But Joyce and
Belyj do not succumb to the complete mechanization of the
structure of their works, for the movement of both Ulysses
and Petersburg taken as a whole also depend on musical
organization.
Ulysses and Petersburg possess a musical organization
and development: there is an intricate structure of rhythm,
sound, recurrence, and variations in which every point has
its key and tonal quality, and part is linked to part by
developing themes. For example, a more comprehensive view
of the whole, its parts, and their interrelationships is
afforded by the cross section of Dublin life in the scenes
of "Wandering Rocks." The eighteen scenes of this chapter
are each distinguished by tone and rhythm. Also, "Circe"
in Ulysses and the masquerade ball in Petersburg, provide
a similar overview. But music, when it is applied to
literature, actually only provides an interesting analogy.
Imitating music, literature may acquire a different struc
ture, or it may improve in sound and rhythm those elements
it shares with music; yet it still has subject matter, and
in Ulysses as well as Petersburg all the musical devices
are those of poetry. In their formal experiments, Joyce
and Belyj do not achieve music but symbolize it by creating
132
ja pattern of sounds approximating those of music. They
jstrive "to purify the words of the tribe," and this purifi
cation of.language is achieved by way of: synesthesia, the
development of images with a musical language in symphonic
arrangement, and the suggestive indefiniteness of meaning
which is an element of poetic music. Through internal
monologue the perceptions and ideas of the characters are
represented, these ideas are put into words, and verbal
themes are set to an organizational pattern approximating
music. However, it must be stressed that Belyj's experi
mentations with, internal monologue and synesthesia are
narrower and more restricted than Joyce's.
To catch, fix the meaning of, and express epiphany and
its sudden manifestations, Joyce probed into the minds of
the characters experiencing epiphany. He relied heavily
on the individual perception and language of the character
to express each epiphany. Because of this he turned to the
techniques of internal monologue and stream of conscious
ness. In Ulysses, we are admitted to the complex, special,
obscure, and often fantastic minds of the main characters.
Not content with just controlling the larger areas of his
creation, Joyce wanted a simultaneous control of the widest
perspectives and the most intimate moments of apprehension.
i
Internal monologue and stream of consciousness are used not
|only for realism, but also for the effect of depth, for the
effect of layers of experience piled on top of one another
;and then expanded, and for a simultaneous present tense.
j
|The mental process of the characters is based on associa-
I
ition: associations of the day’s events accumulate, while
i
memories of experiences merge and entangle. On Sandymount
t
strand the sea shells crackling under Stephen’s feet remind
him of the shells seen earlier in the school office, which
reminds him of the salary received, which reminds him of
Mr. Deasy, who reminds him of horses.
Joyce presents us with a series of associations at the
moment of their coming to mind. Through introspection he
penetrates to the deepest recesses of mental experience and
creates the impression of the process of thinking. Inner
speech is not restricted to the main characters such as
Stephen, Bloom, Molly, but includes Father Conmee's dry
"music of ideas," the Nameless One, Gerty MacDowell, and
others. For Joyce, the simulation of thought includes
inventing words, repetition, free combination of words, and
the application of new syntactical rules. But to get at a
distinction between Joyce’s use of internal monologue and
stream of consciousness and Belyj’s use of internal mono
logue, a more precise definition of the stream-of-conscious-
ness technique is needed.
In his well known study on stream of consciousness,
jRobert Humphrey investigates the problems of conveying
,events in the consciousness of literary characters and
134
; 1
isolates four possible techniques. The first is soliloquy,1
where events are presented in a logical and connected manner:
j
as if spoken aloud, (direct speech) The second is omni- I
i
scient description, where events are reported from an ;
outside god-like viewpoint, (direct reported speech) The
third is indirect monologue, where events are still reported,
but now from the character's own viewpoint, (free indirect
speech) The fourth is direct interior monologue, where
events and thoughts are presented as is, through the charac
ter’s mind and his actual thought process, (free direct
speech) Humphrey also writes that,
...we may define stream-of-consciousness fiction
as a type of fiction in which the basic emphasis
is placed on exploration of the prespeech levels
of consciousness for the purpose, primarily, of
revealing the psychic being of the characters.^
Humphrey concludes that stream of consciousness is what the
j
jwriter is presenting, while "direct interior monologue" is
the technique used to express it. According to this defi
nition, both Joyce and Belyj employ interior monologue.
|Such a statement, however, demands qualification, for in
fact, their methods are often very different.
Erwin R. Steinberg attempts to distinguish between
I ^ Robert Humphrey, Stream of Consciousness in the
Modern Novel (Berkeley, 1954) , p. 23.
2
Ibid., p. 4
135
! 3
internal monologue and stream o£ consciousness. He points
■out that Lawrence E. Bowling defines stream of consciousness
I
in the following manner:
The only criterion [for stream of consciousness]
is that it introduce us directly into the
interior life of the character, without any
intervention by way of comment of explanation
on the part of the author.4
If we take Bowling's definition in conjunction with
Humphrey's, two points become clear. First, there can be
no intrusive author in stream of consciousness, and second,
i
the stream-of-consciousness technique attempts to recon
struct a prespeech level of consciousness: the reproduction
of a rapid flow of associations at the prespeech level of
articulation, where impressions are still in a raw state
and are not organized by grammar or logic.
There are many passages of reconstructed visual, audi
tory, and memory perceptions in Ulysses. In "Proteus,"
Stephen's perceptions are simulated as:
Listen: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss,
rsseeiss, ooos. Vehement breath of waters amid
seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. In cups of
3
The distinction between stream of consciousness and
internal monologue is taken from Erwin R. Steinberg, "...the
steady monologue of the interiors; the pardonable confusion
1 __ ," James Joyce Quarterly, 6 (Spring, 1969), 185-200.
For a fuller development of his arguments see Erwin R.
Steinberg, The Stream of Consciousness and Beyond in
"Ulysses" (Pittsburgh, 1958) .
^ Lawrence E. Bowling, "What is the Stream of Conscious
ness Technique?", PMLA, 65" (June, 1950), 245.
136
rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap: bounded in
barrels. And, spent, its speech ceases. It
flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool,
; flower unfurling. (49)
|The technique is repeated through Bloom’s memory images in
"Lestrygonians."
Walking down by the Tolka. Not bad for a
Fairview noon. She was humming: The young
May moon she's beaming, love. He other side
of her. Elbow, arm. He. Glowworm's la-amp
is gleaming, love. Touch. Fingers. Asking.
Answer. Yes. (167)
I
In "Sirens," broken and truncated words imply that Bloom's
associations are proceeding more quickly than verbalization
i
can take place in his mind.
Remember write Greek ees. Bloom dipped, Bloo
mur: dear sir ... Got your lett and flow.
Hell did I put? Some pock or oth. It is utterl
imposs. Underline imposs. To write today." (279)
As Steinberg points out, Molly's monologue, however,
cannot be considered stream of consciousness. In her mono
logue, we are provided with the thoughts of a character who
has organized her thoughts into language and is speaking
silently to herself. To illustrate this, Steinberg provides
punctuation and capital letters.
Frseeeeeeeefronnnng, train somewhere
whistling. The strength those engines have
in them, like big giants; and the water rolling
all over and out of them, all sides, like the
end of Love's old sweet sonnnng. The poor men
that have to be out all the night from their
wives and families in those roasting engines.
Stifling it was today. I'm glad I burned the
half of those old Freemans and Photo bits.
1 . 3 7 )
Leaving things like that lying around! He's
getting very careless. (754)^ |
Even if Molly's monologue is loosely organized both gramma- j
I
tically and logically, it is still very coherent and remainsj
at speech level. It is here that Joyce's technique is !
closest to Belyj's.
Finally, there are no passages of pure stream-of-con-
sciousness technique in Ulysses. In "Proteus" and in
"Lestrygonians" there is always an omniscient narrator to
locate the characters in time and place, while Molly's
monologue cannot be considered stream of consciousness.
i
However, it is still possible to enlarge on Humphrey's pro
posed techniques for investigating the consciousness of
characters. Steinberg does so by providing the following
categories:
1 . statement by an obviously intrusive author
2 . summary statement by an omniscient author
3. spoken soliloquy or monologue
4. silent, internal, or interior soliloquy or
monologue
i
! 5. (simulated) stream of consciousness.^
Here the distinction between Joyce and Belyj becomes clearer.
Joyce makes use of categories 2 through 5; the only time an
i
intrusive author appears is in the series of parodies in
^ "the steady monologue of the interiors," p. 192.
6 Ibid., p. 197.
I
I
i
I . __________________________ „ ___ . _______________ 138,
"Oxen of the Sun.” Belyj, on the other hand, makes use of
categories 1 through 4, and does not reach the prespeech
, level of stream of consciousness.
Belyj in Petersburg does not use stream of conscious
ness, but rather employs internal monologue consistently
throughout the novel. This is primarily due to the intru
sive narrator's role: he is the organizer and mediator of
all thought processes. While in Ulysses the narrator's
function fades and direct quotation takes over, in
Petersburg the narrator makes all thoughts clear to the
reader. Many visual, auditory, and memory perceptions,
although they originate in the character's mind, are con
ventionally related. For example, when Sofia Petrovna is
returning home from the masquerade ball she falls into a
dreamlike state. Her recollections are triggered by an
external, auditory stimulus that allows her to sustain the
mental process: she mistakes the hoof beats of the fire
department for the Bronze Horseman. Although fragmentation
of impression and rhythmic repetition help to simulate the
.thought process, the scene is reported by the narrator.
The love of that fatal, unhappy summer
flashed through her mind, and fell away from
her mind; there was the sound of another blow,
shattering stone; flashing, the stones fell:
the conversations she had in the spring with
Nikolaj Ableuxov, the years of her married
life, her wedding: some void was tearing them
from her, swallowing them piece by piece....
the ringing hoof beats of a metal steed pounded
on stone: behind her, it was trampling on the
139
I fragments; there behind her, the metal
i Horseman was pursuing her. (193)
i
; Occasionally, during the conventional reporting of a
Iscene, Belyj allows the narrator to fade and the character’s
^subjective impressions are delineated independent of the
narrator's control. Sergej Sergeic Lixutin's thoughts take
over when the external stimulus of his wife's imminent
return forces him to rapidly evaluate possible modes of
suicide.
His thoughts grew clear; a dilemma presented
itself: what now? The revolvers are hidden
away; it would take a long time to find them...
The razor? With^a razor -- ugh! Involuntarily
he shuddered: with a razor after what had just
happened... No: the most natural thing would
be to stretch out on the floor, leaving everything
else to fate. (219)
Even when a character's thoughts take over entirely they
are well formulated and at the closest point of articula-
'tion: they are never at prespeech level. Nikolaj's thoughts
on the imminent explosion of the bomb are expressed in the
following manner:
--nonetheless, the never to be repeated,
the unique, prolonged sound... --
--the explosion!!.,.
Then:- -
having thrust legs into a pair of underwear (no,
what underwear: better without underwear!) --or
in an undershirt, with a pale, wry face--
--yes, yes, yes!- -
--leap from the warm bed, stamp barefoot
into the dark hall, rushing like an arrow:
toward the inimitable sound, sniffing
the peculiar odor on the way: a mixture
140
! of gases and... something else, more
terrible than the smell of fire and
I gas...
But there would probably be no odor. (375)
.There are also countless interjections to show what a
character is thinking as opposed to what he is actually
, saying. This occurs both in reported conversations as well
as in dialogues. When the Senator recalls his wife "he
could remember distinctly Anna Petrovna playing Chopin (not
Schumann)." (7) An overheard conversation is reported as:
In commercial business?
(Oh, Lord!)
No!
You aren't? Well I'm a cabby. (26)
In all of the examples of the various forms of internal
monologue cited above, thoughts and words are already
organized and meaningful units. These thoughts are clear
:to the characters and the narrator makes them clear for the
i
reader; they may, in fact, surpass the character's actual
7
.level of articulation. Furthermore, there is no free
association characteristic of stream of consciousness.
Seemingly arbitrary words, occasional sentences, and
associations are made clear in the course of the novel,
especially through constant repetition. In Petersburg there
is a dual vision: the characters’ own impressions and the
.narrator's interventions to dispute them. In this way, the
narrator can rebuke Dudkin for his blatant stupidity.
/
* 7
Anton Honig, Andrej Belyj's Romane (Munich, 1965),
’p. 19.
141
jlnternal monologue was used prior to Belyj in Russian
literature by Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, but never before
Petersburg, where impressions are piled upon impressions
and thoughts.upon thoughts, was'it used so extensively and
so consistently throughout a novel.
To investigate even further the mental processes of
.their characters and also to connect disparate strands in
their novels, both Joyce and Belyj experimented with the
device of synesthesia. Synesthesia is a metaphor of the
senses, that involves the application of words and images,
appropriate to one type of sense perception, to another
type of sense perception; It is usually a function of the
memory process, creating associations, correspondences, and
intermixing sensory cues. Synesthesia was an important
element in the Symbolist notion that abstract ideas and
correspondences could be communicated by perceptible clues
and that there need be no logical connection between the
clue and the idea. In Ulysses and Petersburg synesthesia
is used both to join the different perceptions of the
characters and to fuse the various arts. In Petersburg,
/
however, because of the narrator's organizational powers,
the use of synesthesia is more restricted than in Ulysses.
There are many instances of synesthesia in Ulysses; in
inproteus," Stephen "closed his eyes to hear his boots crush
crackling wrack and shells." (37) In the "Circe" section,
"gesture, not music, not odours would be a universal
^language, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay
I
i
'sense but the first entelechy, the structural rhythm." (432)
While in the cabman's shelter, Stephen makes the transfer
:between the senses of sound and sight.
I
He could hear, of course, all kinds of words
changing colour like those crabs about
, Ringsend in the morning, burrowing quickly into
; all colours of different sorts of the same sand
where they had a home somewhere beneath or
seemed to. Then he looked up and saw the eyes
that said of didn't say the words the voice he
heard said -- if you work. (644)
Sensations are created by light and the fusion of color into
color, and perception into perception.
Evening hours, girls in grey gauze. Night horns
then black with daggers and eyemasks. Poetical
idea pink, then golden, then grey, then black.
Still true to life also. Day, then the night. (69)
The artificial lights of Dublin light up the city; even
shadows are full of color. Frank Budgen writes that "the
whole [Ulysses] is built up out of nuances instead of being
constructed in broad masses, things are seen as immersed in
a luminous fluid; color supplies the modelling, and the
total effect is arrived at through a countless number of
small touches. Like impressionist art ... it is an effort
8
jto approach reality." Bloom believes that there is no
color peculiar to an object; there is only light, memory,
and associations.
I
■ g
Frank Budgen, James Joyce and the Making of "Ulysses"
(Bloomington, 1960), p. 93.
i
143
I Colours depend on the light you see. Stare the
i sun for example like the eagle then look at a
shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Wants to
stamp his trademark on. every thing. Instance,
, that cat this morning on the staircase. Colour
! of brown turf. Say you never see them with
three colours. Not true. The half tabby white
j tortoiseshell in the City Arms with the letter
em on her forehead. Body fifty different colours.
Howth a while ago amethyst. Glass flashing. (378)
The outside world is perceived in terms of visibility: it
is seen as shades of colors and mental associations.
Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least
that if no more, thought through eyes. Signatures
of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and
seawrack, the nearing tide, the rusty boot.
Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs.
Limits of the diaphane. But he adds:
in bodies. (37)
After the frenzy and the fusion of sensations that occur in
"Circe," the end of the world and the finality of the moment
are defined in terms of the destruction of light: the
destruction of external visible reality.
He [Stephen] lifts his ashplant high with both
hands and smashes the chandelier. Time's livid
final flame leaps and, in the following darkness,
ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling
masonary. (583)
t
Belyj also experimented with synesthetic perception
and stated that "synesthesia was not a literary invention
9
but the actual manner of cognition." In his article
:"The Rainbow City" he points out that colors and sense
»
9
: Andrej Belyj , Rudolf Steiner i_ Gete v Mirovozzrenij
Sovremennosti (Moscow, 1917), p. 126.
Iperceptions are purely subjective."^ Thus in Petersburg,
color is associated with quality of tone and various sets
jof "themes": each theme is identified by a color or by a
i
jset of colors and can be isolated. Although the relation
ships of color to theme are not one to one and are conr. .
;stantly shifting, they are usually determined by the
character being described or by his subjective impressions.
Conflict in the novel is visually defined and is reinforced
through sound. Oppositions are set up such as cube versus
sphere, black versus red, and center city versus islands.
In this way, Belyj's use of color and sound themes and his
experimentation with synesthesia are more restricted and
much more logically defined in terms of the novel then are
Joyce’s.
Belyj's use of color is almost mathematically precise,
and in Petersburg he creates what might be termed an alpha
bet of colors. In the tavern scene, Dudkin's conversation
with Lippancenko intermixes with the sounds of other con
versations and with the noise of the raucous mechanical
v
.orchestra. Dudkin's impressions of Lippancenko are
i
recorded in the following manner:
Lippancenko's striped suit reminded the stran
ger [Dudkin] of the wallpaper in his flat on
' Vasilyevsky. It was the color that he associated
i
10 V
Andrej Belyj, "Raduznyj gorod," Arabeski (Moscow,
'1911) .
145
! with his insomnia, an insomnia that evoked in his
; memory the ominous face with narrow Mongolian
eyes persistently peering at him from the
i wallpaper....
"Just listen to the din!"
"It's a lot of noise, right enough!"
"Speaking of sounds," the stranger said, "it's
odd how some of them -- sometimes a mere
syllable or even a letter -- can suggest
ideas." (38)
The color Dudkin is thinking of here is a mixture of yellow
and red: the dominant trait associated with Lippancenko
are his enormous, yellow, salmon-like lips. If we continue
the line of associations that Belyj builds for the reader,
then yellow is equated with the Mongol threat and red with
revolution and the bomb. Such an identification of color
with theme is constantly being reinforced throughout the
novel: for example, yellow and red are the colors of the
leaves that dominate the fall cityscape of Petersburg.
v
Also, if Lippancenko is all yellow and red lips, the Senator
is all green ears, and in the novel green is associated
with political reaction. Finally, the "apl" sound is
common both to Apollon Apollonovic as well as to Lippancenko,
only it is reversed.
Color in Petersburg underlines the ideological struggle.
,In her study of the novel, Dagmar Burkhart tabulated
Belyj's use of color according to percentages:
, grey -- 21%
black -- 18%
yellow -- 10.5%
red -- 9.1%
blue '-- 8.9%
white -- 8.9%
green -- 14%-*--*-
i
Such a statistical breakdown is interesting, since after
a reading of Petersburg one has the impression that red is
the dominant color. This is due to the fact that it is
usually used at dramatic moments and is associated with
revolution, violence, chaos, and destruction. Red is the
color of blood; of the red domino; of the red package with
the bomb; of the flags at the demonstrations; and of the
"red," underground, newspapers.
Associations that are created through the use of color
■are always ambivalent: both death and salvation are
implied. Belyj's favorite moments in the novel are sun
rises and sunsets; they create decorative effects and color
associations. The beautiful red, crimson, and ruby hues of
a setting sun fall on the buildings and palaces of
Petersburg, turning them into a bloody color and reflecting
golden explosions in the windows. Both revolution and the
explosion of the bomb are predicted in these descriptions;
however, the sun is also a symbol of salvation and illumi
nation.
The final Sun will shine forth on that day
above my native land. If, Sun, you do not come
forth, then 0 Sun, the European shores will be
trampled beneath the heavy, Mongolian heel... '(107)
! ^ Dagmar Burkhart, "Leitmotivic und Symbolik in Andrej
Belyj's Roman Peterburg," Die Welt der Slaven, .9: (1964),
33.3.
147
;The color red and the sun are associated with fire, the
logical outcome of the bomb's explosion, which is both
jdestruction and purification. Nikolaj is in a fever after
the explosion; in Russian fever is "gorjacka" from "goret" 1
'(to burn), while Dudkin's real name is Gorelskij or
Pogorelskij. In all of the allusions to fire in the novel,
it is either spreading or being contained.
At another level, all of the guests at Cukatov's mas
querade ball drink "mors": a mixture of cranberry juice and
water. Again, the red cranberry juice of the drink is both
|the blood of the revolution, death (mor), and the blood of
communion; while the water in the drink and in the novel,
has both positive and negative connotations. The river
Neva is green (reaction) with its marshes, bogs, and slime;
at night it is black and the abyss (the crowd;that flows
along the Nevskij is also black); when the sun is out the
'Neva can also be blue. A certain sense of liberation is
implied in the color blue: in the Epilogue, Nikolaj spends
some time near the blue sea of Tunisia. Finally, the domi
nant color of grey, which is the fog and the smoke of the
industrial city, envelops Petersburg. Grey, black, and
iwhite, along with his green ears, are the colors that are
:used to describe the Senator. At the beginning of the
•novel these colors dominate and are seen in the chimney
;sweeps, the Senator's frock coat, his carriage, and the
jblack cat. On a single page in chapter three (114), Belyj
slyly uses the color white (his pseudonym) six times.
■ The climax of synesthetic perception is reached in the
"Walpurgisnacht" episodes of Ulysses and Petersburg:
i
"Circe’ . ' and the masquerade ball. A ball and a brothel are
I
certainly fitting settings for the novels'sclimaxes. But
here again, the mixing of themes, sensations, and memories
is more logically defined in Petersburg than it is in
Ulysses. "Circe" is set to the mad frenzy of the Dance of
the Hours, while the ball follows the rather more organized
and circular dance pattern and music of a waltz. Although
the hypnotic movement of the masquerade ball builds from a
quiet beginning to pandemonium, it never achieves that level
of total chaos and fusion of sensations and perceptions as
does the brothel episode in Ulysses. "Circe" serves as a
great thematic junction. As Bloom and Stephen search their
memories, all the themes that have bound the day together
reappear, composing a nightmare of mixed perceptions.
Grotesque symbolic themes are linked to other such themes,
: while at the same time interweaving with countless mixed
sensations and distorted images.
! In "Circe," characters, dreams, and setting fuse into
:a phantasmagoria of merged shapes, sounds, and voices.
|Bloom and Stephen see their secret desires, thoughts, fears,
Ihidden actions, and memories all take form and appear before
149
Itheir eyes as hallucinations. Real objects, thoughts, or
actions are amplified, and for the reader it becomes almost
)
' a game of discovering the word, incident, or image that
engenders the hallucination. Bloom is applauded and gains
i
the acceptance he yearns for; only the mystery man from
’’ Hades” wants Bloom to be shot. Later, however, Bloom is
debased and degraded. Before Bloom's eyes, in kaleidoscopic
succession, appear among others: his father and mother,
Molly, Gerty, Mrs. Breen, Richie Goulding, Garryowen, the
gulls, Bob Doran, Maffei, Beaufoy, Martha, Myles Crawford,
and the ghost of Dignam. Even the picture of the nymph
comes alive and visits the brothel. The visions of the
main characters can even go out beyond the confines of the
novel: Stephen sees events from his schooldays that are
described in the Portrait. In this way, practically every
character, experience, idea, and impression met during the
day returns to haunt the brothel as an intoxicating dream.
The masquerade ball, like the "Circe” section of
Ulysses, is a thematic junction in Petersburg; it is para
digmatic of the entire novel and there is a great deal of
|parody, games, and the grotesque in it. The ball is a
^continuous movement of dancing and music and the room is
filled with masks, red clowns, and Capuchines. Among the
t
guests there are disguises within disguises: both police
spies and revolutionaries are present, and there are
revolutionaries who are disguised as police spies.
150
|The color red produces a dramatic effect: the ball is
i
i
"hell" and the fog outside is reproduced inside by cigarette
ismoke. Walls are lined with mirrors, creating a labyrinth
of images and an endless succession of grotesque, costumed
characters masked by smoke. Everybody has a mask: Nikolaj
is the red domino, Sofia is Madame Pompadour, Lippancenko is
a Spaniard, and nobody recognizes anybody else. In a
similar fashion, the bomb is hidden in a pretty, bowed,
candy box and words in the novel are anagrams disguising
meaning.
Several crucial transformations occur during the masque
rade ball: from the letter he receives, Nilolaj realizes
what he must do and becomes a dangerous revolutionary and
terrorist; Sofia completes her metamorphosis from angel to
Madame Pompadour; and the Senator becomes the gored knight.
.Recovering from a pain in his chest caused by a heart con
dition, the Senator imagines himself to be a young knight.
At that very moment a single horned creature, probably a
hooded Capuchine, jumps toward him and shatters something
shiny. This incident is reflected infinitely by the
mirrors surrounding the scene. The symbolic stabbing
recalls the Ableuxov coat-of-arms which is found on the
Senator's house and carriage; it depicts a young knight
being gored by a unicorn. Earlier, at home, while holding
a candle, the Senator had looked into a mirror and saw
there a young knight. Nikolaj also imagines himself to be
151
a young knight: he knows that the coat-of-arms stands for
'all the Ableuxovs and therefore he is included. So too,
Dudkin feels something metallic pierce his heart (the Bronze
Horseman), and Lippancenko is stabbed to death with a pair
of scissors. Most importantly, however, both in the
"Circe" section and in the masquerade ball episode, synes
thesia affords not only a fusion of senses and perceptions;
but also the transformation of all the arts into a synthe
sis;.of one, and of art into reality. Two-dimensional
paintings and symbolic representations (the nymph and the
coat-of-arms) become three-dimensional characters, while
music transforms everything.
Both Joyce and Belyj were conscious of adapting musical
principles to the structural needs of their novels. In
Ulysses, the day's events parallel, counterpoint, intersect,
and merge. The main characters of the novel are first
introduced in a preliminary exposition, then treated in
combination, and eventually their personality traits are
recapitulated. Harry Levin writes that, "Its [Ulysses]
■introductory theme would be Stephen, its main theme Bloom;
each, after a preliminary exposition undergoes his own
development, then a treatment in combination, and at last
12
a recapitulation." It was Ezra Pound who first noted
12
Harry Levin, James Joyce, A Critical Introduction
(Norfolk, 1960) , p. 79.
152
; the resemblance of the novel's structure to the sonata form:
a musical structure based on statement, development, reca
pitulation, and the coda where all'previous themes are
n j 13
resolved.
In his study of Ulysses, Don Noel Smith interprets the
; scheme of the novel as being that of a sonata.^ He points
I
out that chapters 1 - 6 ("Telemachus" through "Hades”) can
be viewed as exposition or statement of themes. Chapters
.7 - 15 ("Aeolus" through "Circe") would then be the develop
ment of these themes, while chapters 16 - 17 ("Eumaeus and
"Ithaca") would be the recapitulation. Finally, chapter 18
("Penelope") is the coda where all previous themes are
i
iresolved. These categories of the sonata form would also
correlate with the three points of view in the novel:
limited narrator (1-6) , unlimited narrator (7-17), and
absolutely no narrator (18) . But in Ulysses, the musical
analogy goes beyond a resemblance in form. A rather elemen
tary definition of music would include its capacity to
13
Ezra Pound, PJames Joyce et Pecuchet," Mercure de
■ France, 156 (May-June, 1922), 313.
14
Don Noel Smith, "Musical Form and Principles in the
Scheme of Ulysses," Twentieth Century Literature, 18
'(April, 19 7 2), 79-92.
Robert Boyle does not agree and finds that there is
; no unity at the end of the novel, and that the themes have
;not been resolved. See "Ulysses as Frustrated Sonata
Form," James Joyce Quarterly, 2, No. 4 (Summer, 1965), 249.
153
I
'order sounds along the lines of melody, harmony, and rhythm.
If we adapt the analogy that music can provide to interpret
Ulysses, then melody would be consecutiveness, harmony would
i
be concurrence, and rhythm would be the cyclic recurrence
of events.
The "Sirens” section of Ulysses goes far beyond all
previous experimentation in the adaption of musical techr
niques to the novel.^ The Ormond Restaurant scene is built
around a musical pattern, sequence, and structure; and it
'is dominated by musical forms and rhythms. Many critics
i 17
'have commented on the fugal development of this section.
It begins with a contrapuntal development of preliminary
phrases. The first two pages of this opening passage con
sist of a fragmentary narrative that is meaningless until
the section has been read. They are like an overture, con
taining basic themes and motifs that are completely
developed later. (bronze by gold) Bloom thinks of Martha's
letter, the erotic novel Sweets of Sin, and Blazes Boylan's
impending rendezvous with Molly. Under the influence of
music, Bloom's impressions become mixed and he associates
:Raoul, the hero of Sweets of Sin, with Boylan; the latter
16
See Lawrence L. Levin, "The Sirens Episode as Music;
iJoyce's Experiments in Prose Polyphony," James Joyce
Quarterly, 3 (Fall, 1965), 12-24.
17
Richard M. Kain, Fabulous Voyager: James Joyce's
'"Ulysses" (New York, 1966), pp. 157-166.
jis "boylan with impatience." The section abounds in musical
! 18
terminology, and language, as well as content, is handled
I
in a characteristically musical fashion: words and phrases
;are clipped and interlocked, while sound effects are pro
duced through euphony and cacophony of words, onomatopoeia,
19
and auditory observations. For example, the return of
the young, blind, piano tuner, who earlier was helped by
Bloom (Bloom is the Good Samaritan), is prepared by the
rhythmic association of the sound his cane makes: "Tap.
i
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap." (289) Musical and rhythmic associa
tions can also transcend the limits of the chapter to create
other possible associations. That morning Stephen had
thought: "I am getting on nicely in the dark. My ash
sword hangs at my side. Tap with it: they do." (37)
The "Sirens" episode, perhaps more than any other sec
tion of Ulysses, is illustrative of Joyce’s concern for
repetition, variation, and elaboration rather than for what
happens next. Edmund Wilson writes,
There is a tremendous vitality in Joyce, but
very little movement...he is symphonic rather
than narrative. His fiction has its progression,
18
Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce's "Ulysses" (New York,
1952), pp. 256-257.
19
See Joseph E. Duncan, "The Modality of the Audible
in Joyce’s Ulysses," PMLA, (1957), 286-95.
its development, but they are musical rather
: than dynamic.20
: To sustain and develope the "symphonic" quality of Ulysses,
Joyce uses the device of leitmotif. Scores of key words
are stated, developed, interwoven, modulated, and recapi
tulated in the manner of music. Because of this, Joyce's
use of leitmotif is ingeniously elaborate. Kain identifies
more than one hundred key thematic words, most of them
21
appearing several times. The miniature odyssey of the bar
of soap can serve as an example.
Throughout the day Bloom carries soap in his pocket.
He purchases it at the chemist's, it is in his hip pocket
in the funeral carriage, he transfers it to a coat pocket
at the cemetery, it is retransferred to the hip pocket in
the news room, Bloom is afraid of losing it when he dodges
into the museum, it later becomes sticky and he smells its
penetrating odor, and he touches it before entering Cohen's.
Confronted by the vision of Molly, he mentions the chemist's
and the soap becomes a new singing sun in the East.
Finally, Bloom washes his hands with it in the kitchen of
his house, and it is at this point that the soap's history
is recapitulated. Besides the possible Freudian interpre
tation, it is the recapitulation that adds a further
dimension to this trivial and minute theme. The microcosmic
^ Edmund Wilson, Axel's Castle (New York, 1969), p. 209.
^ Fabulous Voyager, pp. 277-289.
correspondence in which the soap stands to the macrocosm of
the entire novel is identical to the correspondence of the
recapitulation to the entire theme of the soap. So too,
Ulysses contains "Wandering Rocks" (chapter ten), which in
turn contains a section ten, in which Bloom reads Sweets of
Sin, the "SOS" structure of which is a miniature scale model
(at least in outline) of Ulysses. In the manner of theme
and variation, each level recapitulates, expands, and is
paradigmatic of the other sections and of the entire novel.
From his early prose poems on, Belyj was interested in
■the use of musical structure in works of literature. He
wanted to render and reproduce the "symphonic" consonance
of the surrounding world in all of its manifestations.
Most of the musical devices that Belyj experimented with
in the Symphonies are found in his novels. In Petersburg,
Belyj makes extensive use of rhythmic associations, recur
rent phra-s:e;s and image-phrases, and leitmotif; stating,
developing, recapitulating, and merging them. Rhythmic
phrases and sound qualities in the novel are the movement
of consciousness which is reinforced by recurring patterns
of musical motifs. In the tavern scene, Dudkin relates, his
thoughts on the differences between the sounds "i" and "yv"
He identifies Lippancenko with the slimy, repulsive, cold-
blooded sound "y." When he looks up he sees Lippancenko
turn into a gigantic "Y.7
157
' In Petersburg, recurring, rhythmic sound associations
y
'often take the place of description. Nikolaj Petrovic
Cukatov gives the masquerade ball in the novel; his biog
raphy is related as follows:
y
Nikolaj Petrovic Cukatov had danced all
through his life; now he was about to stop danc- .,
ing....
He had spent his life dancing. He had danced
as a boy, and danced better than anybody. On
finishing high school, he had danced himself into
acquaintance; on finishing college, he had danced
himself a circle of acquaintances and patrons.
Nikolaj Petrovic had then danced away his
existence in the civil service; he had danced
away his estate; and danced at balls; ...and now
Nikolaj Petrovic? danced at home; his two daughters
had also danced themselves out of childhood into
young womanhood.
And now he was dancing himself to a finish. (167)
This passage is especially difficult to render in English,
and John Cournos does a less than satisfactory job. There
fore, because of its importance to this study, it is
■reproduced below in Russian.
y
Nikolaj Petrovic Cukatov protancoval svoju
zizn’; teper' uz Nikolaj Petrovic tu zizn'
dotancovyval; dotancovyval bezobidno, he poslo;...
Vsjo v zizni emu vytancovyvalos'.
Zatancoval esco mal'cikom; tancoval lucse
vsex; k okoncaniju kursa gimnazii natancovalis'
znakomstva; k okoncaniju fakul'teta iz kruga
znakomstv vytancovyvalsja i krug pokrovitelej;
Nikolaj Petrovic pustilsja otpljasyvat' sluzbu;
protancoval on imenie; i -- pustilsja v baly;...
i Nikolaj Petrovic teper' tancoval u sebja;
vytancov^valis' dve doceri, detskoe vospitanie.
Tak cto teper' dotancovyval sam on sebja. (167)
r »
The entire description of Cukatov's life is based on the
rhythmic repetition of the word dance, (tanc) By building
158
various possible forms from this word, Belyj expands gram-
' 2 2
matical limitations to the stretching point. While such
[verbal dexterity is interesting for its own sake, it also
suggests the novel's basic structure. As Cukatov dances
his way through life, there is a gentle, waltz like rhythm
to this passage. This rhythmic pattern will be continued
during the masquerade ball, until the circulating melody of
the waltz (the passage quoted above begins and ends with
;"dotancovyval") will build to a pandemonium. Also,
Cukatov's name reflects various levels of meaning. The
1 0
name Nikolaj refers to the Senator's son, Petrovic (Peter)
'to the Bronze Horseman, while Cukatov means dried sweet
fruit in Russian. Besides the humerous sound quality of
the last name, it is also associated with "mors”: the
sweet, red, cranberry juice that the guests drink at the
masquerade ball. There is furthermore a great deal of
parody in the Cukatov citation: Nikolaj Petrovic is the
picture of a self-satisfied, jolly, party giver (Tolstoy's
Rostov) and of the successful civil servant (Apollon
Apollonovic). Just as the Cukatov citation parodies the
masquerade ball, so too, the masquerade ball parodies
Petersburg, while the novel itself parodies Russian litera
ture. As in Ulysses, each level recapitulates, expands,
]and contains other levels and the novel itself.
2 2
For a complete catalogue of Belyj's neologisms, see
Lily Hindley, Die Neologismen Andrej Belyj s (Munfch, 1966) .
I 159
Keeping the above quoted passage in mind, it is now
I
I
possible to isolate certain characteristics of Belyj’s use
of musical structure. First, there is an obliteration of
t
time sequence as the repetition of situations and the
'emphasizing of certain details point to the simultaneity of
'occurance. Second, there is an effect of verbal echoing,
reverberation, and cyclic movement. Third, scenes recall
each other through parallel construction, and the suggestive
use of symbols produces different impressions of the same
object. To achieve such an effect, Belyj, like Joyce, made
extensive use of leitmotif. Georgette Donchin writes that
"the use of leitmotivs as a sustained device is the most
important basic principle of Belyj's narrative in Peters -
23
burg." In her study of the novel, Dagmar Burkhart has
identified scores of leitmotifs: the red domino, the sar
dine can of horrible contents, the coat-of-arms, revolution-
24
ary imagery, apocalypse, and the Mongolian threat. There
are also scores of recurring phrases and key thematic words
serving as refrains: for example, the verbal expansion of
the bomb from the cuckoo clock to a sardine can of horrible
;content. Another such refrain is the identification in the
Senator's and Nikolaj's minds of Anna Petrovna with the
2 3
Georgette Donchin in an introduction to Andrey Bely,
j Petersburg (Letchworth, 1967), p. V.
24
"Leitmotivic und Symbolik," 0£. cit.
Iphrase "i grimela rulada." (and the roulade resounded)
■When Anna Petrovna runs off to Spain the refrain is altered
l
i
!to "ni grimela rulada,” but upon her return the original
phrase is reintroduced.
It is possible to discuss Petersburg in terms of sym
phonic, sonata, or fugal structure; but as with Joyce, to
say that a novel is constructed around the principles of
theme, development, repetition, and resolution, is to say
very little. Most fiction and in fact most writing is
t
based on the very same principles. Music provides only an
interesting analogy and a possible instrument for interpre
tation. Although music and literature may share certain
principles of construction, the implementation of these
principles results in different effects. Therefore, when
we discuss the musical structure of the Cukatov citation we
must refer to Belyj's use of language and to his verbal
dexterity, while the opening passage to "Sirens" can be
viewed both as overture and as impressionistic condensation
2 5
through words and phrases. In the final analysis we are
still dealing with words and language, and all "musical"
effects are produced by the devices of poetry.
In Ulysses and Petersburg the world of everyday reality
'and the world of art are brought together through the medium
pf language. Epiphanies and symbols are both the uttered
25
Point made by Harry Levin, James Joyce, p. 99.
161
'"word" and the created "word" of the artist. Verbal associ
ation is a principle for the arrangement of experience and
language is an instrument of characterization: from
■Stephen’s belief that understanding is expressed in the
"word" to the linguistic decay of Martha's letter. Language
also has a magical potency: in "Circe" Stephen asks his
mother the "Word known to all men." (581) The rich conno
tations of words create both an effect of disillusionment
and of a game being played by the author. Joyce and Belyj
are masters of all situations because of their power to
create them through words, and in Ulysses and Petersburg
the creation of art also becomes the subject of art. The
meaning of both novels is not contained merely in a slice
of life or a slice of mind, nor in the action of the charac
ters; but rather in the virtuosity of the author, the
nuances of language, and in the countless correspondences
and allusions. Words can both conceal and reveal, and the
act of reading becomes one of chasing clues and of enigma-
tography.
Many of the technical features of Joyce's verbal
■dexterity can be described through poetic devices such as:
repetition (words and groups of words), rhyme (repetition
of syllables), alliteration (repetition of letters beginning
words or syllables), assonance (repetition of vowels sur
rounded by different consonants), and consonance (repetition
of consonants surrounded by different vowels). The
162
'repetition of similar phrases and words often creates the
I
illusion that selection has been random and that there has
i
■been no prior arrangement.
Words? Music? no: It's what's behind.
Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded.
Bloom. Flood of warm jamjam like it up
secretness flowed to flow in music out, in desire,
dark to lick flow, invading. Tipping her tepping
her tapping her topping her. Tup. Pores to
dilate dilating. Tup. The joy the feel the warm
the. Tup. To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes.
Flood, gush, flow, joygush, tupthrop. Now!
Language of love. (274)
jSuch verbal repetition is introduced at the beginning of
''Sirens," while the themes refer both to the chapter as well
as to the novel itself. "Sirens" begins with: "Bronze by
gold heard the hoofirons, steelyrining imperthnthn thnthn-
thn." (256) The dominant ;"t" and "p" (tipp, tapp, tup)
sounds of the above quoted passage refer to the "tap" motif
of the blind piano tuner. On the other hand, the repetition
of the "j" sound (jamjam, joy, joygush) is associated with
the "jingle jangle jaunting jingling" motif of Blazes
Boylan: it is the sound of his carriage and Molly's bed.
Finally, the double "o" sound (looped, unlooped) is Bloom.
The repetition of syllables as well as words and phrases
creates rhythm, rhyme, onomatopeia, and the impression of
free combination. Words are often the author's own inven
tion and are rendered in phonetic spelling. For example,
the adjective wavy engenders a whole series of units that
resemble it: "Her wavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevy hari un comb:
163
'd." (277) Music in the "Sirens" chapter ends with: "The
endlessnessnessness...." (276) The impingement of a train
upon Molly's consciousness is rendered as: "frseeeeeee-
fronnnng train somewhere whistling the strength those
engines have" (754); while the sounds of the tide are repro
duced as: "Listen: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss,
rsseeiss, ooos." (49) To achieve the poetic rendition of
sound, Joyce avails himself of all possible poetic devices:
they are all combined to produce the desired effect.
In cups of rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap:
bounded in barrels. And, spent, its speech
ceases. It flows pushing, widely flowing,
floating, foampool, flower unfurling. (49)
Rhythmic patterns created by Joyce depend not so much
on meter as they do on variation. He extends "rhythm"
from the concept of the movement of music to include the
Z 6
more physical actions of dance and gesture. In terms of
language, there are countless word coinages and word link
ings, and the principle effect of Joyce's virtuosity in
word formation is rhythmic.
The figure seated on the large boulder at the
foot of a round tower was that of a broad-
shouldered deepchested stronglimbed frankeyed
redhaired freely freckled shaggybearded wide-
mouthe.d largenosed deepvoiced barekneed brawny-
handed hairylegged ruddyfaced sanewyaxmed hero. (296)
Z &
See Jackson Cope, "The Rhythmic Gestures: Image and
Aesthetic in Joyce's Ulysses," ELH: Journal of English
Literary History, 29 (1962), 67-89.
164
But the compounding of words in this section is rather tame
if compared to the derisive "dunduckelymudcoloured mug."
I '
1
(331) To create rhythmic variations and seemingly endless
!
.linguistic possibilities, Joyce systematically undermines
.syntax. Often a character's stream of thought is so rapid
ithat normal structures are rejected. Forms appear such as
"None not said nothing. Yes." (261), or "My eyes they say
she has." (243) Also, Joyce's linguistic virtuosity is
exemplified by the number of foreign languages represented
in Ulysses. Stephen's monologues are full of French,
German, Latin, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Scandinavian, and
many other languages.
But finally, excessive experimentation with the limits
of language and the playing with words, no matter how
tenuously they may be tied to the themes of the novel,
create an impression of a game in and of itself. Nowhere
is this clearer than in the many puns that are found in
Ulysses. Word resemblance is constantly being played with:
a prostitute is a "lily of the alley" (512) , while the
custom of corporal punishment in the navy is "more honored
in the breach than in the observance." (329) Often puns
are a source of parody: "first chapter of Guinness's"
(130) or British imperialism is characterized as "syphili-
sation." (325) Infidelity, a major motif in the novel, is
also expressed in puns: in regard to Shakespeare's wife,
165,
j"If others have their will Ann hath a way." (191) or
/'.Greater love than this, he said, no man hath that a man lay
down his wife for his friend." (393) Molly is also charac
terized by a pun; the question is: what opera resembles a
railroad line? The answer: "The Rose of Castille. See
the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee!" (134)
Perhaps no other feature more than naming provides an
author with greater possibilities of revealing, concealing,
playing games, and creating multiple significance through a
combination of semantic, phonetic, and mythic associations.
In the cabman's shelter Bloom finds in a newspaper a list
of mourners who attended the funeral: "L..Boom, C. P.M’Coy,
M'Intosh and several others." (647) He points out that
M'Coy and Stephen (who is also mentioned) "were conspicuous,
needless to say, by their total absence (to say nothing of
M'Intosh)." (648) Bloom is especially upset by his trans
formation into an L. Boom. The question asked here is,
"What is in a name?"; the answer, of course, is everything.
Stephen is Greek for crown, St. Stephen's Green is the
square of Dublin's University College, and Sjt. Stephen1 s is
the name of the college newspaper. In a name myth and top-
i
'ography can be united: Dedalus refers to the myth of
Deadalus and Icarus and to Stephen's attempt to fly from the
'labyrinth of Dublin. Bloom's given name is Leopold, while
his father's and his son's names were Rudolph. Therefore,
166
by alternating the two names, the Bloom family follows the
'custom of the Hapsburg succession.
!
The name Bloom refers to a flower; his father Rudolph
Virag, the last name means rose in Hungarian, anglecized
the name to Bloom. Leopold Bloom, alias L. Boom, uses the
pseudonym Flower in his correspondence with Martha Clifford:
she, in turn, sends him a flower in her letter. In the
bath, Blooms genitals are described as "a languid floating
flower." (86) Molly is the "flower of the mountain" (782)
and she loves flowers. On the Hill of Howth, Molly and
Bloom make love amid the rhododendrons. Other allusions
are made to the gardens of Gibralter, "The Last Rose of
Summer," and of course the pun on The Rose of Castille.
The names of the women in Bloom's life all start with the
letter "M" (Molly, Milly, Martha): the shape of the letter
"M" having something intrinsically feminine about it. Molly
Bloom is the daughter of a Major Tweedy, the name Tweedy
perhaps referring to Penelope the weaver. Certainly at
times this game of names is used to toy with the reader.
Adams points out how Joyce mocks "the earnest reader" who
is determined to uncover symbolic meanings. Bloom once
took a cruise on the excursion boat "Erin’s King." In
regard to the association of the boat’s name with Parnell,
Adams writes that "the only people to whom ’Erin’s King’
suggests Parnell are those who do not know that it was a
167
real boat, the only boat one could take on expeditions of
! 2 7
:this nature."
j
; For Belyj, language is "cerebral play" concealing a
multiplicity of meaning; words and symbols have the power
i
to evoke a reality that otherwise might be inaccessible.
The "word" can both reveal and conceal, but some mystery
must always remain. Petersburg progresses by suggestion
and allusion: there is a constant shifting from an inti
mate, conversational tone to rhetorical eloquence, from
extremely prosaic descriptions to highly structured poetic
phrasing. Belyj believed that there was a direct correspon
dence between the composition of verse and prose: that
because great prose technicians used certain rhythmic
2 8
patterns, they were also great poets. Some critics fol
lowed Belyj's lead and attempted to uncover basic underlying
metric schemes in Petersburg. Ivanov-Razumnik found an
anapestic organization: a heavy threatening rhythm approxi-
29
mating the revolution. His analysis, however, is not
convincing. Rather than a definite metric scheme, Belyj,
like Joyce, makes use of repetitions and rhythmic patterns.
27
Robert M. Adams, Surface and Symbol: The Consistency
l of James Joyce's "Ulysses" (New York, 1962), p. 86.
O O ^
The notion is disputed by^Boris Tomasevskij, "Andrej
.Belyj i xudozestvennaja proza," Zizn* iskusstva, No. 460
1 (May, 1920) , p. 2.
2 9 v * v
; R. V. Ivanov-Razumnik, Versiny (Petersburg, 1923),
p. 118.
He feels a certain melody in the words themselves almost as '
I
metronomic units and attempts to establish an over all
rhythm. For example, staccato phrases render the approach
of the Bronze Horseman's hoof beats: !
...nothing but thud on thud: the fragments of '
many lives all falling away; the ringing hoof i
beats of a metal steed pounded on stone: behind
her, it was trampling on the fragments; there,
behind her, the metal Horseman was pursuing
her. (193)
Valerij Brjusov singled out three main stylistic
features of Belyj's poetry: the elliptic nature of the
poetic statement, the repetition of words, and the use of
' 30
jassonance. That these features also play a major role
in Belyj's prose, attests to his conviction of the unity
between prose and poetry. Exposition in Petersburg is
jcharacterized by abruptness, fleeting impressions, con-
jfusion-,;and hastily formulated thought. Sounds and speech
|are recorded directly creating an impression of immediacy.
;Bits and pieces of disconnected conversation are picked up
i
jby Dudkin; he immediately associates them in his own fash.4 ■
Jion and imagines a conspiracy.
Intersecting columns of conversation, he
snatched at fragments of it.
"Do you know?" he heard on the right.
The rest was lost in the din.
And came to the surface.
i
30
Valerij Brjusov, Dalekie i_ bljzkie (Moscow, 1912) ,
p . 128. i
I
____________________________________________________________ 169j
"They are preparing..." ,
"What?" I
"To throw..." 1
Whispering began in back of him. (21) I
i
Sounds and speech intermix, as in the tavern scene, where
there is a mingling of songs, the noise of the mechanical
band, and snatches of conversation. Both sound and rhythm i
are expressive, and words are chosen for sound associations
and phonetic value, as well as for meaning. Throughout the
I
novel there is the recurrent sound of "tarn, tarn." It is
both a unit of sound and can mean "there" in Russian. This
sound appears on page 105 and is later used as the title to
ja section in the third chapter in the form of "Tatam: tarn,
I
tarn!" (136) After being repeated several times (pages 197
and 198) it is introduced in the altered form of "tarn,
tuda, tarn." (275) It is possible that "tarn’ , ' and "tuda"
might be expressing a direction to another possible meaning;
>
or even level of existence. At other times, however, it
is only the phonetic value of a unit that expresses meaning.,
I
iThe sound "u" is associated with the approaching menace of
!
I
!the revolution.
i
i
--"Uuu-uuu-uuu." Came a droning sound
through space; and through this "uuu" could
now and then be heard the words:
--"Revolution...Evolution...Proletariat...
Strike..." And again: "Strike..." And again:
"Strike..." (105)
Finally, Belyj does not use foreign languages as widely as :
jJoyce, his Russian, however, runs the gamut from i
I !
jsubstandard, to colloquial to archaic words.
Because of Belyj's belief that the word and symbol bothj
I
reveal and conceal, that they do not y-ield their meaning *
easily and remain obscure, and that the reader must deci-
i
pher meanings and even then there are many possibilities;
there is an element of verbal game playing in Petersburg.
As with Joyce, this is best seen in puns and names. The
Senator tries to escape the logic of language through
ridiculous puns. When we first meet him he relates two
anecdotes that are based on word resemblance: one about
the count, the pitcher, and the countess (graf, grafin,
grafinja) and another about the toilet cleaner, (vater-
klazetcik) The Senator's last name also provides us with a
pun. The Mongol name of his ancestors was Ab-laj, it was
later combined with the Russian "uxov" and the russified
result was Ableuxov. "Ablajat"' in Russian means to bark
!
or to yell at somebody, while "uxo" means ear (Earwicker?) '
and fits the Senator's large green ears. The Senator's
given name Apollon is derived from Apollo and in Russian it
■is felt to be foreign. The Greek god of beauty provides an
i
!
[interesting contrast to the ridiculous figure of the Sen-
I
ator. If Apollon is felt to be foreign, then Nikolaj, his
son’s name, is completely Russian: it is the name of
Russia's patron saint. In this way, the patronymics of the
Senator and his son point out their closeness, while their
igiven names underline their differences and, in fact, place
ithem in two different cultures.
The nature of the game Belyj is playing with words and j
names, and the key to uncovering the rules of the game, is ! '
31
provided by two names in Petersburg. The first is I
!
Morkovin the double agent who follows all the characters in
the novel like a shadow and knows about everything and
everybody: Sofia Petrovna, Dudkin, the Senator, and even ;
v 32
about Nikolaj's dream of Pepp Peppevic Pepp. Morkovin
lives on the islands, but also says that his house is on
the Nevskij. His name derives from "mor" (death) and
"morkov'" (carrot). Although a carrot seems innocent
enough, it is associated with spires, the unicorn's horn,
swords, and scissors. All of these are piercing instru-
t
ments and potential vehicles of death. Also, the green top 1
and red color of a carrot itself are associated with the
j ‘
jcolors of repression and revolution. When Morkovin appears ■
to Apollon Apollonovic he uses the name Voronkov which
derives from raven (voron) and also alludes to death. But
I
jmost importantly, Morkovin is not a true anagram for
* 31
Dagmar Burkhart does some analysis of names in
'"Leitmotivik und Symbolik," pp. 302-311. Helene Hartmann
ienlarges on Burkhart's work in "Andrej Belyj and the
Hermetic Tradition: A Study of the Novel Petersburg,"
Diss. Columbia, 1969, pp. 304-311. This study is
indebted to both works and hopes to go even further
in the analysis of names.
32
It has been suggested that Morkovin and the narrator
of the novel have a great deal in common and in fact may
be one and the same person. See this study, chapter 3,
p. 126.
Voronkov; what Belyj seems to be saying is that no matter j
how hard the reader tries to unscramble names and anagrams, j
i
he will not come up with parallel and exact meanings. j
The second name that provides an insight into Belyj's I
y ^ y
games with words is Dudkin's double Enfransis/Sisnarfne.
v *
In Dudkin’s dream the double appears as Enfransis, while
V
when Dudkin is at Lippancenko*s home he meets a Persian
whose name is Enfransis spelled backwards. The name is
| v v
also sometimes changed to the russified Sisnarfnev. The
man follows Dudkin to his apartment, but during their con
versation turns into a shadow and disappears. Like Dudkin,
he has a small role to play in the events of the novel and
w V ^ V
then goes nowhere, (nikuda) The name Sisnarfne/Enfransis
derives from the rather vulger Russian word "sis." (nothing)
!
|What Belyj is implying here, is that although the name is a
palindrome, no matter which way the earnest reader spells
V V1
it, he will come up with "sis." The notions of the lmper-
jfect anagram and of nothingness are again seen in Dudkin's
!
jname. Dudkin is derived from "dudki" a colloquial Russian
i
Jexpression meaning "Forget it!" and from "dudka" meaning
ipipe or fife. The fife may be an allusion to the darker
Dionysian nature of Dudkin as opposed to the Apollonian
nature of the Senator. There may also be a vague allusion
to the Pied Piper of Hamelin: Dudkin is mortally afraid
lof small living creatures and especially mice. But above
;all, an imperfect anagram formed from Dudkin's name is
!
I
| __________ ______________________________________________ _173'
"nikuda." (going nowhere) And in fact, at the end of the
novel, after all his activities, Dudkin is a grotesque I
i
i
parody of the Bronze Horseman and his. mind is gone. In the I
I
novel, Dudkin is also referred to as Pogorelskij or
Gorelskij (to burn) and as Neulovimyj..(The Elusive One)
V I
The Ukranian (he is not really an Ukranian) Lippancenko
is also called Prilipancenko and as a student his name was
Lipenskij. He is slimy, cold-blooded, and his lips are
associated with oily, yellow slices of lox. He has an
African shield made from a rhino skin and he is often com
pared to a rhinpsero's.;; (adna rog) In this way he is
associated with the unicorn and with the enormous wart on
Morkovin's nose. Lippancenko's name may be derived from
the Russian word "lipkij" (sticky): he is described as
being dirty and slovenly, and he is a nuisance and a pest.
Also, his name may derive from the German "Lippe" (lips): !
just as Ableuxov's ears are a dominant feature of his
appearance, so too, are Lippancenko's lips. Finally, an
i V
^imperfect anagram formed from his name might be "ocen'
jlipkij" (very sticky) or "nailipkij." (the stickiest) His
'name, however, is closest to the combined form of "ocen'
nailipkij": grammatically impossible, but certainly the j
ultimate in stickiness. I
I
Sofia Lixutina is perhaps the most enigmatic character |
in the novel. The name Sofia is, of course, divine wisdom, j
[ _______ 174:
and in Russian Symbolist poetry she is the eternal femininel
l
--the beautiful lady of Aleksandr Blok's poetry. Lixutina, |
i
as has already been pointed out, undergoes several trans
formations: from angel to Madame Pompadour. The last nameJ
Lixutin derives from the Russian' "lixo" (evil) and may
refer to the German "Licht." (light) Therefore, the angel
being referred to is the evil angel of light or Lucifer.
During a family argument, Sergej Sergeic feels that there
is something satanic in connection with his wife. It is at 1
this point that he is conscious of the odor of bitter
almonds. How is it then that the notion of betrayal and
almonds (mindal1) are connected? Helen Hartman suggests a
33
reference to Eleusinian mysteries. This is a possible
interpretation, but we also know from Belyj's biography
that the maiden name of Blok's wife was Mendeleeva. Con
sidering the nature of the anagrams discussed above, it
would not be unrealistic to suppose that in Belyj's mind
the name Mendeleeva is associated with "mindal'." The
I + \
IBelyj, Blok, Mendeleeva menage a trois, then, is cruelly
parodied in the characters of Nikolaj, Sergej Sergeic
Lixutin, and his wife Sofia Petrovna. It is interesting
that Nikolaj mistakes Sergej Sergeic for Christ: Sofia ;
Petrovna's husband is a Christ figure and his suicide is a
jparody of the crucifixion. His patronymic, Sergej Sergeic,
33 "Andrej Belyj," p. 35.
175
might point to the combination of the consonants "S," and
Sasha is how Belyj referred to his friend Aleksandr (Sasha)
Blok. Finally, an imperfect anagram for Lixutina (it is
minus a softening) would be "niutixla." (not peaceful or
quiet)
Joyce's and Belyj's use of language is "jocoserious":
puns, anagrams, and riddles create an impression of game
playing, but also, words are used for their capacity to
produce a multiplicity of possible meanings and to tran
scend the logic of everyday language. Such an approach is
reinforced through typography and numbers in the novel. A
section of "Aeolus" is entitled "???" (132), while in
"Ithaca" the musical score to the legend of little Harry
jHughes is reproduced. (690) In Petersburg, a question is
(rendered as a pause, incomprehension, pause:
i
i
j ?
| !.......... (238)
t
|A question in which there is more emotion and surprise is:
I " ? ! ? . " (139) Numbers also transcend everyday computation
: 34 . .
:and radiate out toward the cosmic and infinite. Sirius
jis defined as "10 light years (57,000 ,000,000,000 miles)
jdistance and in volume 900 times the dimension of our
planet" (698), while Bloom's birthday, according to calen
dar calculations, is:
34
See Paul C. Obler, "Joyce's Numerology: A Knot m
the Labyrinth," James Joyce Review, 737 (1959), 53-56.
(jewish era five thousand six hundred and sixty- !
four, mohamedan era one thousand three hundred i
and twenty-two), golden number 5, epact 13, solar j
cycle 9, dominical letters CB, Roman indication ,
2, Julian period 6617, MCMIV. (668) j
)
As these two quotations indicate, numerical computation is: I
i
a show of versatility, a game, and a reference to the theme
of "parallax" and the perspective of relativity.
Petersburg is divided into eight chapters forming an
octagon, and again combining the square with the circle:
then the novel is also a "sardinnica of horrible content."
r
If the Prologue and Epilogue are added, a decimal unity is
created; and Petersburg, then, has the capacity for expan
sion and becomes the bomb. Belyj writes that "There is no
jhorror in one, by itself one is nothing, precisely — one! 1
!But one plus thirty zeroes -- becomes a horror of the
j
Iquintillion: the quintillion -- 0 , 0 , 0 !" (373) Nikolaj,
because of his skinny frame, feels that he is the number
one, but he also has the capacity to expand into a self-
i
annihilating zero. There are many other numerological
jgames in Petersburg: Dagmar Burkhart notices that the
: 35
number on Nikolaj's carriage is 1905 and Hartman discusses
3 6
the significance of the number 12 in the novel.
Whether Joyce's and Belyj's games with words and
numbers produce "joyicity" or a "belyjache" depends on the
^ '"Leitmotivik und Symbolik," p. 316.
"Andrej Belyj," p. 119.
177'
reader’s willingness to participate. In "Ithaca," Joyce j
quotes a "reserved alphabetic boustrophedontic punctated j
i
quadrilinear cryptogram (vowels suppressed)." (721) It is !
not essential that the reader decipher the cryptogram; it !
only spells out Martha Cliffords address: c/o P.O.
Dolphin’s Barn. The address is not a mystery, since it is
given on the same page and was previously given on page
280. Only the earnest reader, enjoying the game of enigma-
tography, need solve the riddles in these novels. What is
more important is that both Joyce and Belyj employ poetic
devices and use language for its rich connotations. Just
as language creates a myriad of feasibl'e interpretations,
so too the novels themselves, through associations and
allusions, radiate scores of possible meanings.
CHAPTER V
ALLUSIVE CONSTRUCTION
Joyce and Belyj do not approach things directly like
naturalists, but indirectly through correspondence, analogy,
suggestion, and allusion like symbolists. Both authors
considered that the individual essence of any object can be
revealed by a detail or perception with which it only has a
fortuitous relation. In their aesthetic theories, allusive
images that suggest and create atmosphere, take their place
among the great range of symbolic devices varying from
words, numbers, signs, 'to the vast and inclusive symbols
I
jsuch as Stephen, Bloom, Molly, and Petersburg. Epiphanies
jand symbols function at all levels, radiating and expanding
I
;to ever wider areas of significance and then turning back
i
i
jupon themselves. Ulysses and Petersburg are also vast
epiphanies that through literary allusion move outward
beyond themselves: they describe the present, modern
iworld; look at similar patterns in past art and history;
and then by juxtaposing the two, propose possibilities for
1
I
|the future.
The parallels that are created through literary allu- I
I
I
sion are not simply superimposed from the outside; the j
purpose of using Homeric parallels in Ulysses is not merely '
to give solidarity to a seemingly plotless work. As had ;
already been pointed out, even without the Greek prototype,
Ulysses has a structural unity of its own. Allusion is the
logical consequence of a structure that is based on counter
point and suggestion, while at the same time seeking to
include and combine both microcosm and macrocosm: the most
intimate detail along with the widest possible perspective.
It is used as a technique of juxtaposition which in turn
develops analogical tensions, and builds any moment in
Ulysses and Petersburg to the proportions of cosmic scope.
Along with the other poetic devices borrowed from French j
symbolist poetry, allusion invites the reader to construct '
and reconstruct the massive unities that are the structures
of Ulysses and Petersburg.
f
! Allusion, even when it is a seemingly casual reference
i
'to some character or event in history or art, is not merely
jan embellishment or ornament; nor is it a demonstration of
the author’s erudition and virtuosity, signaling for the
reader a ritual initiation into a literary and intellectual
jelite. The allusive constructions of Ulysses and Petersburg
j
iare first and foremost instruments of comparison, contrast,
I
'and analogy: a consideration of how a situation in the
i
t
i
i
! 180
novel is comparable to an earlier one and vice versa. j
Allusion is a method that provides an almost infinite num- j
ber of possible contrasts, comparisons, and interpretations.!
When we compare Bloom to Homer, Christ, or Hamlet, there
exists a storehouse of implied relationships, character
traits, themes, archetypes, and organizational patterns.
By suggesting or alluding to a possible similarity, the
author asks the reader to make the comparison and to add
the necessary connective fiber.
Therefore, the allusive construction of both novels
also provides a method for synthesis: a link between past
and present, tradition and the modern age. It is an attempt
to make the contemporary world possible for art; this can
be achieved only through the synthesis of all the dichoto
mies of modern experience such as: inner and outer, typical1
and archetypal, anarchy and culture, East and West, symbol
ism and naturalism. Harry Levin discusses such a synthesis
i
jin terms of Joyce's own works when he interprets Ulysses as
including both the urban and artistic, both artist Stephen
I
|and citizen Bloom; and in this way, looking back at the
naturalism of the Portrait while at the same time antici
pating the total absorbtion with symbolism in Finnegans
Wake.^ Furthermore, the allusive method and the implied
I i
! Harry Levin, James Joyce, A Critical Introduction
i(Norfolk, 1960), p. 19.
synthesis is an escape from the confines of time, a revolt
against the weight of historical time, and an attempt to
create archetypal patterns that link literature with myth
ology. Belyj's use of allusion, however, is narrower and
most often restricted to the tradition of Russian litera
ture, and especially to the myth of the capital city
Petersburg. When allusions are used in a wider context,
they are much less explicitly stated than are Joyce's.
Although Belyj's use of the allusive method is similar to
Joyce's, the final effect that is produced is different:
the juxtaposition of past and present creates a much
bleaker vision of the future.
Much has been written on the Homeric parallels in
Ulysses. Stuart Gilbert's work is an exhaustive study that
isolates many of the allusions and ties Joyce's novel to
the ancient epic through the theories of metampsychosis,
temporal recurrence, and the historical connections between
I 2
^Greece, Jews, and Ireland. Such an analysis of the count-
i
iless allusions both to the Odyssey and to other sources is
i
jbeyond the scope of this study; nor, in fact, is it essen-
i 3
itial. Since this chapter will compare the function of
2
Stuart Gilbert, James Joyce's "Ulysses" (New York,
1952).
- - 3
For a catalogue of allusions, see Weldon Thornton,
Allusions in "Ulysses": An Annotated List (Chapel Hill,
1968).
allusion in Ulysses and Petersburg and look at some of its j
usages in the two novels, a brief adumbration of only a few J
Homeric parallels discovered by Gilbert will suffice. In i
the opening scene, at breakfast, Stephen is ridiculed and
rejected as was Telemachus by the suitors. Next, because
of his age, penchant for giving advice, and his interest in
horses, Mr. Deasy recalls Nestor. In "Proteus,'’ there are
associations made with the mythical man of the sea, and in
"Calypso" a picture of a nymph hangs on the wall. Also,
Molly's birthplace is Gibraltar, her maiden name is Tweedy,
jand Calypso is etymologically related to Calpe meaning
pitcher or bowl. "Lotus Eaters" is replete with references
to perfumes, flowers, and there is an overall atmosphere
of escape and oblivion.
Gilbert points out certain allusions to Homer's epic
in every one of the chapters. In "Hades," the funeral
represents a descent into hell, and Gilbert traces a down-
i 4
[ward movement in the whole episode. It is amusing to
picture the newspaper office as the cave of winds, and the
I
i
library scene vaguely resembles the tale of Scylla and
jcharybdis. The motion and crosscurrents of "Wandering
(Rocks" recalls a section of the Odyssey that Homer only
briefly mentions, and in Ulysses the sirens are transformed
4 i
James Joyce's "Ulysses," pp. 174-176. !
into barmaids. In the dark cave of the Cyclops, Joyce
makes many references to eyes, names, anonymity, and the
"Noman" trick of Ulysses is reenacted. The chaste Nausicaa
I
becomes Gerty MacDowell, a sardine tin in "Oxen of the Sun"
I
reminds the reader that Ulysses' men were driven by hunger
I
to catch and eat fish, and in "Circe" men are turned into
swine. Finally, in the cabman's shelter there are many
references to navigation, and the traveler's return home is
depicted in "Ithaca" and "Penelope."
Obviously, not all of the allusions are of equal impor
tance. Certain major parallels are established: Leopold
|Bloom--a practical man, is Ulysses--the man of many devices;
I I
jwhile Stephen--the lost intellectual, is Telemachus.'
Through such allusions the characters of the novel are both
elevated and denigrated. There is a pervading mock-heroic
effect: if Bloom is Ulysses, then Ulysses is also Bloom. ^
i
|In regard to the other characters, the chaste Penelope
i
jbecomes the adulterous wife Molly, the wise Nestor becomes
jthe pompous Mr. Deasy, the Cyclops becomes a chauvinistic
i
i
'Dubliner, and the maiden Nausicaa becomes the sentimental
ishopgirl Gerty MacDowell. But to underline and reinforce
these major parallels, Joyce includes scores of less obvious
allusions. Concerning these Harry Levin writes that "if
ithe symbols are more extrinsic, we are less pleased; if
184
5
they are entirely out of sight, we seldom miss them." If
for any reason at all, the reader should fail to make a
connection between the sardine tin in "Oxen of the Sun" and j
fishing in the Odyssey, he has in fact missed very little. 1
The sardine tin cannot be compared to the function of the
"sardinnica of horrible content" in Petersburg. The latter
is a central unifying symbol in the novel, while the sar
dine tin in the maternity hospital only expands and
reinforces certain themes that are also developed elsewhere:
for instance, the Homeric parallel or the notion of
fertility.
Analogously, Belyj in Petersburg also makes use of
seemingly remote allusions. At the end of the novel, in
the Epilogue,- Nikolaj is reading the Egyptian Book of the
Dead; Helene Hartmann finds that the entire novel is struc
tured on the model of this work.^ If compared to Ulysses,
in which every chapter corresponds to Homer's epic, the
[allusions in Petersburg are never as explicitly stated: the
jvery title of Joyce's work immediately points to certain
parallels, while in Petersburg the Book of the Dead is only
i
mentioned once and this occurs at the very end of the novel.;
! ^ James Joyce, p. 75.
6 Helene Hartmann, "Andrej Belyj and the Hermetic
Tradition: A Study of the Novel Petersburg," Diss.
'Columbia, 1969, pp. 122-125 .
i
!
i
______ . 185;
Hartmann discusses some of the possible parallels between j
the two works and indicates that they have similar themes: j
j
cyclic recurrence and the notion that death is both an end j
and a beginning. She also points out that Apollon
v
Apollonovic’s head is hairless like an Egyptian priest’s
and at the ball he resembles an Egyptian statue. At other
times the Senator is described as looking like a pharoah or
like a mummy, while Nikolaj sits for hours in front of a
sphinx trying to solve its mysteries.
There are also certain stylistic comparisons that can
jbe made between Petersburg and the Book of the Dead.
lHartmann finds similarities between'Chapter CXXV of the
Book of the Dead and the Prologue of Petersburg.
Hommage 'a vous, seigneurs de Verite!^, Hommage
a toi dieu grand, seigneur de Verite... Je vous
apporte la verite, et je d^truis pour vous le
mensonge.7
The Prologue to Belyj's novel begins:
Your Excellencies, Your Lordships, Your Honors,
Citizens!
I
| What is our Russian Empire?
I Our Russian Empire is a geographical entity... (1)
{Both passages are forms of address to a high ranking
j
jaudience and both go on to develop various "truths.” The
f
iallusion to the Book of the Dead can also be viewed as a
7
Hartmann, "Andrej Belyj," p. 124. Taken from the ^
French translation of G. Maspero, Guide du visiteur au Musee1
de Boulag (Boulag, 1883) . Belyj read this book.
definition of method. While in Egypt Nikolaj works with
i
hieroglyphics, an language based on the principle of j
I
1
symbols that has to be deciphered. Hartmann suggests that I
i
hieroglyphics, like Petersburg, are a mystery not yielding
their meaning until a key is found and the code is broken.
Such an interpretation implies that Petersburg is an
initiatory ordeal to certain "truths." The function of
"difficulty" is to create a mysterious, closed world. The
initiate tells himself that all of this "difficulty" and
extravagant technical virtuosity must have a meaning. His
wonder and pleasure are boundless when he discovers that a
heretofore incomprehensible combination of consonants is ;
quite possibly a pun derived from the name of an obscure
Egyptian deity. Although Joyce and Belyj seem to encourage
this manner of interpretation, the fact of the matter is
that allusions such as the sardine tin or the Book of the
Dead are rarely essential and are never "keys" to a more
significant meaning. They are only elaborations and expan
sions of themes that can be found in other contexts. The
fact that Nikolaj reads the Book of the Dead indicates his
own personal search for truth. But this is not a mystery:
in the course of the novel his readings range from Kant to
Skovoroda. The work near the pyramids that ruins his eye
sight also alludes to the more- inward and mystical bent of
his search. As with puns, names, anagrams, and numbers, i
excessive elaboration creates an effect of game playing and j
parody that most often leads nowhere. Nikolaj's voyage to j
i
Egypt alludes to and parodies Vladimir Solovjov's search j
i
i
for the Eternal Feminine in the deserts of Egypt. But this j
is the way of the labyrinth (Egyptian or otherwise): there ‘
are many threads that one can follow. Both Ulysses and
Petersburg are paradigmatic of the human condition, fulfill
ing the reader's need of finding and recreating one's own
way in a universe of countless possibilities.
However, an essential question remains: Are the many
allusions of both novels meaningful organic metaphors or
are they simply witty extraneous games? Of crucial impor
tance is the fact that not all of the historical and myth
ical parallels in Ulysses and Petersburg function in the
same way, and not all of the allusions have an equal
I
symbolic significance. Harry. Levin outlines three reasons
for the allusive method and especially for the Homeric
8
parallels in Ulysses. First, the Odyssey provides arche-
jtypes for modern man and a critical irony is created
through the comparison of heroic and modern values. Second,
it is a cognitive device for the reader, allowing him to
take certain things for granted and establishing signposts
that he must look for. Third, Homeric and other mythical
i
8 ^
James Joyce, pp. 73-78. J
parallels endow the action of the novel with a special *
depth and meaning: they attach significance not only to
i
the wider aspects of Joyce's novel, but also to the most !
i
minute particulars. Concerning Joyce's seemingly exces.- i
sive ingenuities and the sense of the game, Levin concludes
f
that the Homeric parallels seem more important to Joyce
than they could ever be to any reader. Therefore, it
becomes imperative to investigate exactly how allusions in
Ulysses are related to the dramatic action of the novel and'
what effect is achieved.
S. L. Goldberg in his study of Ulysses distinguishes
9
between two distinct types of allusions. At one extreme,
parallels emerge naturally from the dramatic action of the
novel; while at the other extreme, they seem to be super
imposed onto the action. An example of the first type of
t
allusion occurs in the "Cyclops” chapter after Bloom has
explained the principle of love to the citizen.
f
! --By Jesus, says he, I'll brain that bloody
| jewman for using the holy name. By Jesus I'll
i crucify him so I will. Give us that biscuitbox
! here. (342)10
»
jBloom's hasty departure from the scene of the argument is
j
associated with Elijah's ascent into heaven in a fiery
chariot.
^ S. L. Goldberg, The Classical Temper: A Study of j
James Joyce's "Ulysses" [L°nd°n> 1961) , pp. 146-148. '
j io
! The examples cited here are Goldberg's, p. 147.
When, lo, there came about them all a
great brightness and they beheld the chariot
wherein He stood ascend to heaven. And they
beheld Him in the chariot, clothed upon the
glory of the brightness, having raiment as of
the sun, fair as the moon and terrible that i
for awe they durst not look upon Him. And
there came a voice out of heaven, calling:
Elij ah! Elij ah! And he answered with a main
cry: Abba! Adonai! And they beheld Him i
even Him, ben Bloom Elijah, amid clouds of
angels ascend to the glory of the brightness
at an angle of fortyfive degrees over Donohoe's
in Little Green Street like a shot off a shovel.
(345)
In this way Bloom soars to celestial realms only to crash
again like Icarus. Allusion here grows out of the themes ;
and structure of Ulysses, and is an integral and organic ;
unit. Its function is both critical and ironic, and it
serves to reveal character. The parallel created is an
epiphany: it illuminates the events of the section and of
the novel, and puts them into a new and more meaningful 1
perspective.
The second type of allusion only elaborates further and 1
expands a significant parallel; it is characterized by an
effect of virtuosity and game playing. Bloom's initial
association with Sinbad the Sailor is meaningful within the
context of the novel; however, Joyce's further illustra
tions of this association only add expansion and humor.
Womb? Weary?
He rests. He has travelled. j
With?
Sinbad the Sailor and Tinbad the Tailor and ;
Jinbad the Jailor and Whinbad the Whaler and j
Ninbad the Nailer and Finbad the Failer and
Binbad the Bailer and Pinbad the Pailer and i
Minbad the Mailer and Hinbad the Hailer and j
Rinbad the Railer and Dinbad the Kailer and ;
Vinbad the Quailer and Linbad the Yailer and |
Xinbad the Phthailer. j
When?
Going to dark bed there was a square round
Sinbad the Sailor roc's auk's egg in the night
of the bed of all the auks of the rocs of Darkinbad
Brightdayler.
Where?
• (737)
In the "Cyclops" chapter Bloom is not only Elijah, but also
Ulysses the "Noman." The chauvinistic citizen is the
Cyclops and the Homeric parallel is reinforced through many :
references to the eye and to names. The citizen's patri
otic appeal to save the trees of Ireland and the theme of
names and namelessness are expanded by Joyce into a verbal
game. A fashionable wedding is attended by:
...Lady Sylvester Elmshade, Mrs. Barbara Lovebirch,
Mrs Poll Ash, Mrs Holly Hazeleyes, Miss Daphne Bays,
Miss Dorothy Canebrake, Mrs Clyde Twelvetrees,
Mrs Rowan Greene, Mrs Helen Vinegadding, Miss
Virginia Creeper, Miss Gladys Beech, Miss Olive
Garth, Miss Blanche Maple, Mrs Maud Mahogany,
Miss Myra Myrtle, Miss Priscilla Elderflower,
Miss Bee Honeysuckle, Miss Grace Poplar, Miss
0. Mimosa San, Miss Rachel Cedarfrond, the Misses
Lilian and Viola Lilac, Miss Timidity Aspenall,
Mrs Kitty Dewey-Mosse, Miss May Hawthorne, Mrs
Gloriana Palme, Mrs Liana Forrest, Mrs Arabella
Blackwood and Mrs Norma Holyoake of Oakholme
Regis... (327)
The allusive method in Ulysses has a twofold function.
On the one hand, it is the method of epiphany that illumi-
*
nates and adds meaning to the events, themes, and characters
of the novel. Homeric parallels make their presence felt,
191
and they are one of the possible threads in the labyrinth, j
Details accumulate and develop until at the end of a section!
j
or of the novel, the ironic ambiguities of the allusions i
become clear. On the other hand, it is a method of expan
sion and ingenuity. Often it seems that not every detail
is fully justified and that some are in fact irrelevant.
When Gilbert tells us that Bloom's "knockmedown cigar" is
Ulysses' club, we are skeptical; the deeper Gilbert digs to
unearth possible Homeric correspondences, the more our mis
givings increase. Such parallels are not illuminative in
themselves, but are elaborations and illustrations of a
more meaningful epiphanic allusion.
If Goldberg's distinction is applied to Petersburg,
then it would seem that Belyj's allusion to the Book of the
Dead belongs to the second category. It is superimposed
i
from the outside and serves to expand certain themes. 1
Belyj's allusions to Russian literature, however, belong to
|the first category: they are more integrally and organi-
jcally tied to the dramatic action of the novel and
jespecially to the myth of Petersburg. For example, the
'Senator's ears are one of the leitmotifs by which he is
immediately recognized, and like Gogol's "Nose" they seem
to have a life of their own. The Senator is a high govern- 1
I
ment official and a bureaucrat; these characteristics taken
in conjunction with his enormous ears allude to Karenin in
11
Tolstoj's Anna Karenina. In Tolstoj's novel Anna is j
i
repulsed by her husband's big ears: it is interesting that j
I
in both novels, the wife's name is Anna and a family con- j
flict is described. However, there are also many differ- ;
I
ences: while in Tolstoj's novel domestic difficulties
provide the main focus, in Petersburg the husband-wife
misunderstanding is only of tangential interest. Rather
than concentrating on a family drama, Belyj is more inter
ested in dramatizing the conflict of ideas. The family
dispute is lowered and parodied, or to use Ortega y
Gasset's term, it is "dehumanized." Belyj takes some detail
or allusion such as the ears and enlarges it to enormous
proportions; it is never alone, but incorporated into the
novel's texture creating countless associations.
The Senator's ears are associated with both Karenin
•and with a mouse. In this way, allusion is used to expand
outward beyond the framework of the novel proper, and also
jto include the smallest, seemingly most insignificant
-detail. A mousy grey color, along with black, is used to
[describe the Senator; and, in fact, Apollon Apollonovic
I
!
iresembles a mouse. There is a real mouse that lives in the
i
I
jAbleuxov house; when it scurries about on its tiny legs,
i
| ^ R. V. Ivanov-Razumnik, "Vostok ili zapad," Russkie
j Vedomosti,«,(May 6, 1916), p. 6 . See also D. N. Brescfinskij
jand Z. A. Zukova-Brescinskaja, "Literaturnyj bred
A. Belogo," Sovremennik, 25 (November, 1973), 3-25.
193
it reflects the Senator's own futile existence as a paper I
I
pusher in a government office. Also, the mouse's plaintive]
i
squeaks echo and parody the futility of communication j
i
between father and son. There is usually an ominous sflencei
that hangs over the Ableuxov house--a quiet before the I
i
storm--that is only interrupted by the squeaks of the mouse
and the ticking of a clock. Such an effect develops a
growing tension before the explosion, and unites the main
principles of the dramatic action. The Senator (mouse) and .
the bomb (clock) are connected for the first time in the
f
Ableuxov house where the explosion will inevitably occur.
Not only does the mouse reflect external appearance,
but in addition it unites the Senator with the main charac
ters of the novel. Dudkin comes to the Ableuxov house to
deliver the bomb to Nikolaj. But small animals terrify
Dudkin and when he hears the sound of the mouse, he wants
the valet to get rid of it. Nikolaj is both repulsed by
the mouse and feels sympathy for it: he is relieved when
;he discovers that the valet did not kill the mouse, but let
jhim out of the house. Nikolaj's and Dudkin's feelings
toward the mouse define their attitude toward the Senator:
Dudkin fears him, while Nikolaj both loves and hates him.
After the explosion of the bomb, Nikolaj's first impulse is i
i
to rush to his father; he is relieved when he finds out j
I
i
that the Senator has not been killed.
194'
There are of course other more obvious literary j
I
allusions that appear in the form of epigraphs and direct |
12 ^
quotations. Each of the eight chapters of the novel |
V j
begins with a citation from Puskin: two are taken directly '
t o
from .the Bronze Horseman, the other six from various Puskin ■
poems. In the text itself, the greatest amount of direct
quotations is also taken from the Bronze Horseman. There
( ' 1 n ■ ■ T
are many points of comparison that can be established
between Petersburg and Puskin's poem: both deal with a
time of upheaval and both depict a "little man” challenging
much more powerful forces. But there are also many differ
ences, that are perhaps more glaring than the parallels.
Belyj's allusive method is based on expansion and exagger-
jation to the point of the absurd. While quotations and
epigraphs might serve to suggest the content of a certain
chapter, they are not always exact; in many cases they
defeat and undermine the reader's expectations.
The epigraph at the beginning of the first chapter is
I
jan important transitional passage in Puskin's. poem.
There was a dreadful time, we keep
Still freshly on our memories painted;
And you, my friends, shall be acquainted
By me with all that history:
A griveous record it will be. (3)
12 See Pierre Romaine Hart, "Andrej Belyj's Petersburg
and the Myth of the City," Diss. University of Wisconsin,
1969, pp. 202-207.
Coining at the end of the introduction to the Bronze
Horseman, these five verses mark a crucial change in tone j
i
and attitude: from a glorification of the capital city to |
f
a harsher, more critical approach. There is no such
reversal in Petersburg: an ambivalent attitude toward the
city is already present in the Prologue. At the beginning
of the sixth chapter, an epigraph from Puskin's poem signals
the arrival of the "new Evgenij."
Pursued where'er he went
By the Bronze Horseman
Wildly galloping ... (272)
To this point in the novel the reader is still in the dark
concerning the "new Evgenij's" identity. All indications
would point to the fact that it is Nikolaj; as it turns out,
however, it is not Nikolaj at all, but his alter ego Dudkin.
|This is made especially clear when having killed Lippancenko,
i
and having climbed onto the body, Dudkin parodies both the
Bronze Horseman as well as Evgenij's own parody on the
13
lion. It is this last element of parody that best charac
terizes Belyj's use of the allusive method. Alluding to
! Tolstoj's characters Belyj "dehumanizes" them; while when
|
he alludes to the avenging specter of Peter the Great, he
lowers it by "humanizing" it a bit too much. The result is
a pervading irony: the Bronze Horseman comes to life,
13 * •
Johannes Holthusen, Studien zur Xsthetic und Poetik
der russischen Symbolismus (Gottingen, 1957),.p. 122.
visits our "new Evgenij," sits his metallic frame in a i
i
chair, smokes a pipe, chats with Dudkin, and calls him son. !
I
The parallels Belyj establishes neither elevate the charac- |
ters being alluded to, nor the characters of Petersburg.
y
If there are many thematic allusions to Puskin's works
I I
|in the novel, then most of the stylistic borrowings are
from Gogol--the style of Petersburg is Gogolian only more
so. A rhythmic prose, hyperbole, rhetorical questions,
low puns, and verbal game playing are all elements that
Belyj's Petersburg shares with Gogol's works. Belyj him
self cited the importance of "The Overcoat"; the puns of
"The Nose"; the hallucinations of "Notes of a Madman"; the
panicky horror of "The Portrait"; and the descriptions of
the city that are found in "Nevskij Prospect"; as essential 1
features of his own novel.^ The Gogolian phrase "Do not i
!
believe the Nevsky" is important both for its depiction of
the city, and for a characterization of the narrator's tone
i
--for neither can we believe him. Like Gogol's works,
Belyj's novel is built on contrasts and there is an
i
jessential, underlying duality that the author strives to
jovercome. It would seem that Belyj is discussing Petersburg
l
when he writes:
14
Andrej Belyj, Masterstvo Gogolja (Moscow, 1934),
p. 302.
Gogol's plots are like "centaurs”--they
are double natures; one nature is nature in
the ordinary sense of the word; the other is
the nature of consciousness. You do not
really know where the action is taking place,
whether within the space depicted by the author
or in Gogol's own mind. You have no idea of
the time of action either. ^
There are many other parallels that Belyj establishes,
of which only a few can be pointed out here. As in
Dostoevskij's novels, Petersburg is full of dreams, fevers,
I
doubles, confessions, and intimate conversations on philo
sophical themes. The ideological struggle, revolutionaries,
exile, and possible "resurrection" of Crime and Punishment,
all play a part in Belyj's novel. Dudkin in many ways
resembles Raskolnikov and the double agent Morkovin has a
lot in common with Porfirij Petrovich. So too, revolution
ary activities in Petersburg reflect Dostoevskij's The
Possessed, while the themes” of the struggle between genera
tions and patricide echo both The Brothers Karamazov as
{well as Turgenev's Fathers and Sons. But in the final
analysis, Belyj puts all of these allusions to his own use:
for example, as has already been pointed out, while
jDostoevskij uses the device of the double to explore the
i
inner recesses of a character's mind, Belyj expands it
■ j r
outwards to include everything. The final effect of
i ^ Masterstvo Gogolja, p. 45.
I ^ See this study, Chapter III, pp. 111.
!
j
I
j
i 198
Belyj's allusive method is one of exaggeration, parody, andi
i
even farce. |
In comparison to Petersburg, the effects of the allusive
method in Ulysses can be interpreted in three distinct, •
ways; all three play a part in the novel's structure creat
ing dramatic tension. The first effect is produced by a
comparison of the main character's inadequacies with the
heroic quality of Homer's world. It demonstrates the short
comings of the present age: a world in which everybody is
lost and "heroism” is only a mockery of the term. The
second effect looks back to the supposed grandeur of the
i
past and is critical of it. If Stephen is Telemachus, and
Bloom is Ulysses, and Molly is Penelope, and Dublin is
Ithaca; then the reverse is also true. Bloomsday is anyday,
and the characters of both worlds are neither great saints
nor great sinners, but simply ordinary men. The third
|effect finds genuine parallels between the Odyssey and
i
j Ulysses thereby elevating the events of the latter. It
jconcludes that Man, because of his resourcefulness, his
lability to survive, and his "humanity," is heroic in any
I
age. It is this last element that is completely absent
from Belyj's Petersburg, while the first and most criti
cally ironic effect predominates.
In Ulysses, Joyce asks the question: What does our
I
life have in common with that of ancient heroes? In this !
iway, Ire proposes a twofold reality: the historical and
psychological reality of modern as well as ancient society. !
The disparity between juxtaposed ideas and facts creates a j
i
strong sense of irony both comic and' tragic. When the j
i
modern world is pitted against Homer's heroic age, and
earlier patterns and events are incorporated into our
world, a mock-heroic effect is produced. Joyce's irony is
constantly undercutting the events of the novel and demon
strating their mock-heroic absurdity. Insignificant habits 1
and events are seen as having universal significance and a
biscuitbox thrown at Bloom can create a major cataclysm:
The catastrophe was terrific and instanta-
I : neous in its effect. The observatory of Dunsink
j registered in all eleven shocks, all of the
fifth grade of Mercalli's scale, and there is no
record extant of a similar seismic disturbance
in our island since the earthquake of 1534,...All
the lordly residences in the vicinity of the
palace of justice were demolished and the 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 feared all the occupants have been
j buried alive. (344)
Through allusion the characters of Ulysses reenact patterns
that have been enacted thousands of times before. This,
however, does not necessarily imply that the patterns are
meaningful. The counterpoint is just as important, for it
reveals to us something about Homer's world. Bloom repre
sents both the modern world as well as the human condition
in any age, and irony subjects the "poetic" ideals of the
Homeric world to a critical scrutiny.
In terms of the distinction made between the two types j
of allusigms in Ulysses (epiphanic and elaborative), it is j
!
the second that contributes most to the ironic and mock- j
heroic effect. Through elaboration and exaggeration a '
parallel is expanded to absurd proportions. Nevertheless,
the initial allusion remains meaningful and Bloom is Every
man, "Noman," Christ, Shakespeare, Sinbad, Rip Van Winkle,
and others; while Molly is Everywoman, Penelope, Ann
Hathaway, Beatrice, the nymph, and others. The initial,
epiphanic allusion raises the character above the present
situation and suggests what he has in common with past
situations. A sense of implicit patterns restores unity
and fullness to the human experience. The actions of an
isolated individual are endowed with form and depth by a
participation in the archetypal patterns of humanity.
Bloom is given universal significance as a symbol of human
experience and is juxtaposed to other symbols with a
similar meaning: he is Ulysses and he is not Ulysses; he
is modern man and he is Everyman, with all the inherent
futility, pathos, and heroism. The modern Ulysses is repre
sented less by outward action and more by inward awareness:
the new Odyssey occurs inside the mind and the new heroism
is not distinguished by action, but rather by an absence
of action. \
i
Every allusion and parallel established in Petersburg
is undercut through parody and irony. Fear, alienation,
_______ 20i;
and spiritual exile, however, are not overcome by irony;
for because of the "dehumanized" quality of the novel,
there is no adequate response to it in real life. Even
the value of the events and setting is questioned.
In a certain important place, occurred an
event which was extraordinarily important;
an event occurred, that is it happened. (113)
Every moment in the novel is expanded through allusions and
instantly deflated through parody. Chapter three begins
t
with an epigraph from Puskin:
Though an ordinary mortal,
A second-rate Don Juan is he,
Neither Demon--nor even a gypsy,
Merely a citizen of a capital city is he. (113)
The reference to "a second-rate Don Juan" points out
Nikolaj's ineffectuality and his failure to seduce Sofia
Petrovna. The quotation also undermines the notion of the
"Demon": Sofia Petrovna's "terrifying" vision or the red
I
Idomino. When Nikolaj trips and sprawls headlong on the
bridge exposing the green sock garters beneath his costume,
ISofia Petrovna is disgusted and the entire incident is
reduced to farce. But in the context of the novel, the
jPuskin citation is also misleading: Nikolaj is finally
not an "ordinary mortal" nor "Merely a citizen of a
capital city," but a grotesque clown.
The entire scene is further satirized through an allu
sion to Liza and Herman of Puskin's "The Queen of Spades"
land Cajkovskij's opera of the same name. The justification
i
i
i 2 0 2
for such a comparison is established at the end of the
first chapter when Nikolaj sees the shadow of a woman run
along a bridge over the Neva.
...the shadow of a woman ran onto the bridge,
to throw herself into the river?...The shadow
of Liza? No, not Liza, just a resident of
Petersburg. (53)
Just prior to the incident of the red domino, there is a
romantic atmosphere: Sofia Petrovna stands on a bridge at
night and dreamily gazes into the waters of the Neva. The
verbal motif of "tarn'' reappears and is also the title to
this section.
...she had stood on this spot before, sighing
about Liza and sadly discussing the tribulations
The Queen of Spades - - the divine, enchanting,
fabulous harmonies; and she hummed in an undertone:
"Tatam-tam-tam!... Tatam-tarn-tarn!" (137)
The "tam" refrain signals the entrance of the red domino;
but after Nikolaj makes a fool but of himself, it becomes
painfully clear that Sofia Petrovna is not Liza and Nikolaj
is hot Herman. Nikolaj is ludicrous, and his fall leads
!to Sofia Petrovna’s disillusionment.
I
; He had not torn the mask from his face with a
; heroic, tragic gesture; nor had he proclaimed
| in a husky melancholy voice: "I love you."
I He had not even shot himself. No, the shameful
j conduct of this fancied Herman had extinguished
the light of these days! It had transformed the
domino into a harlequin! (141)
The result of all these building allusions and motifs is in
I the end nothing but farce.
The farcical nature of Belyj*s allusions are not re-
i
stricted only to the parallels established with nineteenth j
1
century Russian literature, but includes those that are j
v •
wider in scope. Sergej Sergeic is associated with Christ:
after the masquerade ball Sofia Petrovna sees a Christ-like
white domino and mistakes it for her husband. When Nikolaj
sees the same figure, it turns out to be a police inspector.
But later, Nikolaj makes a similar mistake: he sees Sergej
V *
Sergeic on the street, does not recognize him without his
beard, and mistakes him for Christ. On closer inspection
he discovers that it is only Sergej Sergeic and that the
latter*s grotesque face is scarred and bandaged: while
trying to shave before his attempted suicide, which is
itself a parody of the crucifixion, Sergej Sergeic in his
haste had hacked up his face. Again everything is trans- ;
formed, and all allusions to Christ culminate in farcical
vision. Concerning this form of irony, Ortega y Gasset
'writes:
i
j
j The inevitable dash of irony, it is true,
I imparts to modern art a monotony which must
| exasperate patience itself. But be that as it
I may, the contradiction between surfeit and
! enthusiasm now appears resolved. The first
is aroused by art as a serious affair, the
second is felt for art that triumphs as a farce,
laughing off everything, itself included--much
as in a system of mirrors which indefinitely
reflect one another no shape is ultimate, all are
eventually ridiculed and revealed as pure images.
-j *7
Jose Ortega y Gasset, The Dehumanization of Art and
other Essays on Art, Culture, and Literature (Princeton,
1968) , pp. 48-47.
204
It is this quality of "laughing off everything" that per
vades Belyj's novel, and the word "Farce" appears in the
first chapter as an illuminated sign advertising a theater
for light comedy. (46)
Whatever the final effect may be, the allusive method
in Ulysses and Petersburg is used to create a comprehensive
jview of reality; it is a method that allows the author to
i
incorporate a wealth of material. Kain suggests that like
the Divine Comedy, which Dante explained could be read on
four levels, Ulysses can be interpreted at the classical
(Homeric), medieval (symbolic), naturalistic (time and
18
iplace), and poetic (tonal) levels. All these levels
function simultaneously providing the^novel with a certain
"universality." But to create a sense of universality,
Jexplicit allusions are not a prerequisite; a distinction
|
must be made between range of material as opposed to force
19
of meaning. In other words, to depict an Everyman, it is
not essential to allude to Homer, Shakespeare, Dante, and
all the others. As has been pointed out, allusions in
i
Ulysses and Petersburg vary: some are funny, critical, or
clever virtuosity; while others are more essentially tied
18
Richard M. Kain, Fabulous Voyager: James Joyce's
"Ulysses" (New York, 1966), p. 37.
19
Discussed in Goldberg, The Classical Temper,
pp. 148-152.
to the structural and dramatic needs of the novels. The •
first type, or epiphanic allusion, creates a poetic or !
i
artistic universality: here the parallels with Homer, |
Shakespeare, and Christ become major themes of the novel.
The second type, or elaborative allusion, creates a referen-
i
tial or historical universality: it is based on range of
material and on "all inclusiveness." Yet both modes, like
epiphany and symbol, conform to the organizational designs
of the novels: a tightly organic structure and a thrust
outward toward freedom; an infinite inclusion and the most
intimate, personal detail.
The two types of allusion also both use myth and allow
the novels to achieve myth. The function of allusion is to
jreveal exemplary models for all human activities and the
"archetypes" of experience they share in common. Charac
ters in these two novels represent the continuity of the
basic patterns of human existence: birth, death, love, the
•search for a father, the search for a son. If Ulysses can
I
be viewed as a fusion of "myth and topography," then Joyce
jalso superimposes the topography of one society or histor
ical age (which may be a myth) onto the topography of the
present world (which through artistic endeavor may become
I
a myth). The superimposed world helps to sharpen and
[
define modern values while pointing to the recurrence of
|
human experience. It combines analogical juxtaposition i
with the circulation of endless recurrence; and the novel
becomes a myth, with universal meaning, about the "heroes"
of Greece, Palestine, Crete, the universe, and Dublin circa
1904. In the same way, the title of Petersburg suggests
its scope, and Belyj both uses the myth of the city Peters
burg and achieves it. Through allusions to various works
in Russian literature that deal with the myth of the city,
i
i
he expands the scope of the novel' and escapes any limita-
20
tions imposed by a sense of time.
Joyce’s and Belyj's "mythical visions" grow out of the
I
inner dramatic necessities of their works; as with epiphany
jand symbol, their "mythical visions" are found in the
novels themselves and not in Homer, Aquinas, Shakespeare,
Dante, Jung, Buddism, Gogol, or the Book of the Dead.
Ulysses and Petersburg are works of art where certain myths
are recreated and reshaped by the author, and the whole
order of a particular myth is reimagined and renewed. They
are not reenactments of any one myth, nor are they encyclo-
i
jpedias of myths; rather, they are a depiction of our common
<
jmyths and a recreation of Western man's experience. Both
novels strive to achieve a unity and a synthesis of myths,
traditions, and everyday reality. Structurally, this need
for a synthesis is most evident in the organs of the body
alluded to in the novels.
20
See Hart, "Andrej Belyj's Petersburg and the Myth of
the City."
207
Ulysses, every chapter corresponds to a certain
i
organ of the human body. In this way certain associations j
r
!
are created: "Lestrygonians"--the stomach, "Aeolus"--the j
lungs, "Scylla and Charybdis"--the brain, "Sirens"--the ear,!
"Nausicaa-- the eye and nose, etc. There is no such neat
arrangement in Petersburg, but human organs do play an
important role. The Ableuxov house is the Senator's head,
i
jwhile circulation of the blood is represented by the crowd
that flows along the Nevskij and by the river Neva; these
images in turn correspond to a cosmic movement. Also, the
characters are not entirely complete, and are only partially
described. It then becomes possible to reconstruct an
[organism from various dominant traits: the servant's grey
[hair, the Senator's ears, Nikolaj's froglike grimace, and
i
Lippancenko's lips. If we add Sofia Petrovna's and Dudkin's
sexual inadequacies, then the synthesis describes an aging,
grotesque, androgynous creature; which is the city
[Petersburg itself.
! Through allusion and "mythical vision," Ulysses and
I
Petersburg look back at the past creating their own pre-
I
cursors, depict the present, and delineate potentialities
for the future. Both novels are a response to the problem ;
21
of creating art in the modern world. T. S. Eliot, who
71 1
See Weldon Thornton, "The Allusive Method in
Ulysses," in Approaches to "Ulysses," eds. Thomas F. Staley
land Bernard Benstock, ["Pittsburgh, 1970), pp. 235-248.
developed a similar technique and sought similar answers
I
in his poetry, was one of the first to see the possibili
ties inherent in Joyce’s allusive method.
In using the myth, in manipulating a con
tinuous parallel between contemporaneity and
antiquity, Mr. Joyce is pursuing a method which
others must pursue after him....It is simply a
way of controlling, of ordering, of giving a
shape and a significance to the immense panorama
of futility and anarchy which is contemporary
history.... Instead of narrative method, we may
now use the mythical method. It is, I seriously
believe, a step toward making the modern world
possible for a r t .22
The allusive construction of Ulysses is then a method for
"manipulating a continuous parallel between contemporaneity
and antiquity." Ordinary man has something in common with
ancient heroes, and scores of possible combinations and
analogies become possible. The allusive method not only
I
jcomments on the quality of modern existence, but also
strives "to make the modern world possible for art." It is
an answer to the cultural dissolution of the modern world,
jand is a unifying force that is pitted against chaos and
I
(destruction. To make art possible, it must provide a syn
thesis of all the dichotomies of modern life such as: past
jand present, typical and archetypal, inner (subjective) and
(outer (objective), surface and symbol, naturalism (scien-
I
I
tific empiricism) and symbolism (retreat into the inner
^ T. S. Eliot, "Ulysses, Order and Myth," Dial, 75
(November, 1923), 482-83. Also reprinted in James Joyce:
Two Decades of Criticism, ed. Sean Givens, (New York, 1948).
world of consciousness). Joyce, the artist, provides the
hope and the possibilities; it is the reader, however, who
through reconstruction provides the actual synthesis.
The distinguishing feature of Symbolism, as opposed to
all other literary movements, that Belyj isolates in his
theoretical works, is its capacity for synthesis. He sees
it as the culmination of all past traditions, incorporating
23
them, and providing possibilities for art in the future.
The need and search for an all embracing synthesis also
provides the major theme for Belyj's interpretation of the
Petersburg myth. The Bronze Horseman, as no other image
in the novel, serves to unite past and present. Peter's
statue, like Russia, is poised above the abyss: its hind
legs are securely planted in granite while its forelegs are
poised precariously in the air.
You, Russia, are like the statue! Your
fore hoofs are plunging in darkness and
emptiness; and your hind hoofs are deeply
rooted in a granite rock. (106)
According to Belyj it was Peter the Great who split Russia
jin two and created the East/West ambivalence. Through the
'images of circulation, transformation, and the union of
i
!
Jopposites, Belyj attempts to provide an antidote; but it is
jagain left up to the reader to supply the connective fiber
!and to create a unity of vision.
i
i
23
See this study, Chapter II, pp. 50-51.
Both Ulysses and Petersburg suggest possibilities for
!
the future, but do not resolve the problems. Harry Levin
writes that "Ulysses is an attempted synthesis, foredoomed >
24 1
to failure by the very conditions it assumes." Belyj's
"vision," however, is much bleaker than Joyce's; through
irony and parody he repeatedly "laughs off" any hope for
the future. Although the novel cannot be called tragic,
Jits "humor" is essentially grotesque. There is neither the
vitality nor the emphatic "yes" of Joyce's conclusion;
rather, there is only death and disillusionment. Therefore,
the allusions and parallels of both novels are not "keys"
to either life or interpretation. They are instruments of
critical commentary, juxtaposition, "cultural montage,"
jand serve as a mythical perspective in which the dramatic
jaction of the novels may be more fully apprehended. Joyce's1
i
\
land Belyj's use of myth (like parody, word games, and all
other feats of technical virtuosity) is a means of suggest
ing what lies beyond. Myth, like epiphany and symbol,
draws attention to itself to urge the reader to look beyond
the detail, beyond the technique, and by extension beyond
the novels themselves.
24
James Joyce, p. 19.
211
CONCLUSION
There are many threads that can be followed, in the vast
labyrinths that are Ulysses and Petersburg; this study has
isolated and compared only a few. It has endeavored to
trace the common heritage of the Symbolist movement in both
works. Certain essential differences between the two
novels have also arisen: although both Joyce and Belyj
appropriate certain poetic devices, Belyj's use of these
devices is always less varied than Joyce's. Ulysses, when
compared to Petersburg, is a more monumental and all inclu
sive work. However, it must also be pointed out that Belyj
i
; did not concentrate his focus on several vast creations,
and wrote many more novels than did Joyce. Another essen
tial difference is the final effect that is produced by
i
i
[ Petersburg: through constant parody, irony, and the
element of farce in the novel, Belyj's final "vision" in
Petersburg is much more pessimistic.
This vision is reinforced through the "dehumanized"
quality of the characters: they are not human beings, nor
are they simply caricatures; but, in fact, they are finally
transformed into totally generalized and abstract
geometrical forms. In this sense, Belyj's Petersburg can
be interpreted as being more "modern" than Ulysses. The
term is used here neither as approbation nor as condem
nation, but rather in accordance with Ortega y Gasset's
definition.- * - It is perhaps this quality in Belyj's work
that has induced Simon Karlinsky to write that the reader
familiar with "Robbe-Grillet's Jealousy of even Thomas
Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow for the first time can't shake
off the feeling that the authors somehow must have known
2
Bely, even though there is not a chance they did."
Whatever the case for Belyj's "modernity" may be, he
is most comparable to Joyce by the central role he played
in the development of subsequent Russian literature. In
the same way that Joyce's Ulysses pointed the way to the
future and influenced the prose techniques of writers in
jthe West, so too did Petersburg in Russia. Without a read
ying of Belyj's prose works it is impossible to properly
[assess the creative writings of Zamjatin, Pil'njak, Ol'esa,
[Babel*, Pasternak, Nabokov, and others.
I _
i
| ^ See Jose Ortega y Gassett, The Dehumanization of Art
[ and other Essays on Art, Culture, and Literature.
l(Princeton, 1968).
2
j Simon Karlinsky, "Review of The Silver Dove and Kotik
Letaev," The New York Times Book Review, 27 October
1974, p. 1.
i
I
i
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
English translations of Andrej Belyj's novels:
St. Petersburg.
Press Inc.,
Trans. John Cournos.
1959.
New York: Grove
Kotik Letaev. Trans. Gerald Janecek. Ann Arbor: Ardis
Press, 1971
•
The Silver Dove
Press Inc.,
Trans. George Reavey
1974.
New York Grove
Works by Andrej Belyj:
Verse
I
i
!
Zoloto v lazuri. Moscow, 1904.
Pepel. Petersburg, 1909.
Urna. Moscow, 1909.
Korolevna i _ rycari. Skazki, Petersburg, 1918.
I Xristos voskres. Poeraa, Petersburg, 1918.
•Posle razluki. Berlinskij pesennik, Petersburg-Berlin,
1922.
Stixi o Rossii. Berlin, 1922.
Pervoe svidanie. Berlin, 1922.
Stixotvorenij a. Leningrad, 1940 .
Stixotvorenij a i poemy. Moscow-Leningrad, 1966.
Prose
Symphonies:
Severnaja simfonij a: 1-aj a geroiceskaj a. Sobranie
epiceskix poem, I, Moscow, 1917.
Simfonij a: 2 -aj a dramaticeskaj a. Sobranie epiceskix
poem, I, Moscow, 1917.
iVozvrat: III simfonija. Moscow, 1905.
I
Kubok metelej: Cetvertaja simfonija. Moscow, 1908.
Novels:
Serebrjanyj golub1. Moscow, 1910. Berlin, 1922.
Petersburg. Petrograd, 1916. Berlin, 1922. Rpt.
Letchworth: Bradda Books, 1967.
Kotik Letaev. Berlin, 1922.
Moskva: Moskovskij cudak. Moscow, 1926.
Moskva: Moskva pod udarom. Moscow, 1926.
Prestuplenie Nikolaja Letaeva: Zapiski mectatelej.
1921-1924.
i
| Kres?enyj kitaec. Moscow, 1927.
I
j Maski. Moscow, 1932.
Criticism
"Ivan Alexandrovic Xlestakov." Stolicnoe utro. October 18,
1907.
Lug zelenyj. Moscow, 1910.
i
Simvolizm. Moscow, 1910.
Arabeski. Moscow, 1911.
215;
"Egipet." Sovremennik, (June 1912), 176-208.
"0 simvolizme." Trudy i dni, No. 1(1912), 16-19.
Rudolf Steiner i Gete v Mirovozzrenii sovremennosti.
Moscow, 1917.
Na Perevale, II. Krizis mysli. Petersburg, 1918.
Glossalogia: Poema o zvuke. Berlin, 1922.
I v
Zap!ski cudaka. Moscow, 1922.
Na perevale. Krizis zizni, Krizis mysli, Krizis kul'tury.
Berlin-Petersburg-Moscow, 1923.
Ritm kak dialektika i "Mednyj vsadnik. Moscow, 1929.
Mas terstvo Gogolj a. Moscow, 1934.
Mezdu dvux revolj.ucij . Leningrad, 1934.
For a more extensive listing of Belyj's articles,
memoires, diaries, book reviews, and travelogues, see
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i
B.G. "Roman Andreja Belogo." Sofija, 1914:3, 98-99.
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Woronzoff, Alexander
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Andrej Belyj's "Petersburg" and James Joyce's "Ulysses": A comparative study
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