Note on the Politics of Ulysses
The politics of Ulysses, like the politics of modernism more generally,
have been variously debated over the years. Early on the novel served as
an exemplary target and as a valued touchstone for both progressive
critics and cultural conservatives.1 More
recent studies, attending to the stated and implied political views of
Bloom, Stephen, and Joyce, many of which suggest a socialist or anarchist
orientation, have settled on a libertarian or socialist Joyce; other approaches,
eschewing character for the formal embodiment of ideology, have produced
versions of Joyce ranging from the ineffectual revolutionary to the chronicler
of liberalism's demise to the hapless fellow traveler in a general dismantling
of critical subjectivity.2 Not surprisingly,
such debates have not produced any consensus about the politics of Joyce's
epic, beyond, perhaps, his hostility to the apocalyptic Irish nationalism
associated with Padraic Pearse.3 My own approach,
finding a sympathetic theoretical context in Cheryl Herr's work on Joyce's
anatomies of culture and a sympathetic political context in postcolonial
readings of Joyce's "broken English," aims for a less utopian working-out
of Ellmann's revisionary claim in The Consciousness of Joyce that
"Ulysses creates new Irishmen to live in Arthur Griffith's new state"
- that is, in the Irish Free State, founded in 1922, the same year Ulysses
was published.4
Notes
1.
For a detailed overview of the Marxist reception and a glance at the cultural
conservatives, see Jeffrey Segall, "Between Marxism and Modernism, or How
to be a Revolutionist and Still Love Ulysses," James Joyce Quarterly
25 (Summer 1988).
2.
For anarcho-socialist and libertarian versions of Joyce respectively, see
the important books by Richard Ellmann, The Consciousness of Joyce (London:
Faber and Faber, 1977), and Dominic Manganiello, Joyce's Politics
(London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1980), both of which draw on the many
socialist and anarchist tracts in Joyce's Trieste library; see the appendix
to Ellmann for a list. For the ineffectual revolutionary, see Colin MacCabe,
James Joyce and the Revolution of the Word (London: Macmillan, 1978),
who argues for the radical power of Joyce's exposure of "those constitutive
processes that render us sexed and civil subjects" but ultimately claims
that this revolutionary deconstruction is neutralized by Joyce's inability
to address an audience beyond himself (132, 96, 156-57). MacCabe's admirable
study is limited only by his tendency to over-empower a de-historicized
notion of "language" as the sole determinant of subjective states. Franco
Moretti, in Signs Taken for Wonders: Essays in the Sociology of Literary
Forms, trans. Susan Fischer, et al. (London: Verso, 1988), understands
Ulysses as an expression of the breakdown of English burgeois
liberalism without taking into account specifically Irish circumstances.
Vincent Pecora, in Self and Form in Modern Narrative (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989), extrapolates dismantling of the
autonomous subjectivity requisite for a critical relation to modernity.
The present essay explores the kind of mediations between subjectivity
and culture that tend to drop out in Pecora's challenging analyses.
For a broad selection
of approaches to the ideological bearings of Joyce's fiction, see Joyce
and the Subject of History, ed. Mark A. Wollaeger, Victor Luftig, and
Robert Spoo (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996).
3.
See G. J. Watson's important, contextual work, "The Politics of Ulysses,"
in Joyce's "Ulysses": The Larger Perspective, eds. Robert Newman
4.
See Herr, Joyce's Anatomy of Culture. My thinking is also
indebted to Jennifer Wicke's Advertising Fictions, the first book
to explore the historical interrelation of advertising and the novel and
the particular relevance of this conjunction to Ulysses. Many have
since taken up the conjunction; see the special issue of The James Joyce
Quarterly 30-31 (Summer/Fall 1993) on "Joyce and Advertising." For
Joyce as "the very prototype of the postcolonial artist," see Colin MacCabe,
"Broken English," in Futures for English, ed. Colin MacCabe (Oxford:
Manchester Univ. Press, 1988), 12; for the socio-linguistic theory underpinning
such approaches as well as brief remarks on Joyce, see Gilles Deleuze,
Kafka: Toward a Minor Literature (Minnesota: Univ. of Minnesota
Press, 1986), chapter three. For the Ellmann quotation, see The
Consciousness of Joyce, 89. Ellmann ultimately sees Joyce as
a revolutionary who formulated a utopian vision of egalitarian unity by
means of the pun as leveler of social as well as linguistic hierarchies.
Less sanguine about the utopian effect of anti-hierarchical thinking, I
return to the question of hierarchies and their value near the end of this
essay.