Molly

... then Ill go out Ill have him eying up at the ceiling where is she gone now make him want me thats the only way a quarter after what an unearthly hour I suppose theyre just getting up in China now combing out their pigtails for the day well soon have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in to spoil their sleep except an odd priest or two for his night office or the alarmclock next door at cockshout clattering the brains out of itself let me see if I can doze off 1 2 3 4 5 what kind of flowers are those they invented like the stars the wallpaper in Lombard street was much nicer the apron he gave me was like that something only I only wore it twice better lower this lamp and try again so as I can get up early Ill go to Lambes there beside Findlaters and get them to send us some flowers to put about the place in case he brings him home tomorrow today I mean no no Fridays an unlucky day first I want to do the place up someway the dust grows in it I think while Im asleep then we can have music and cigarettes I can accompany him first I must clean the keys of the piano with milk whatll I wear shall I wear a white rose or those fairy cakes in Liptons I love the smell of a rich big shop at 7 l/2d a lb or the other ones with the cherries in them and the pinky sugar 1 Id a couple of lbs of those a nice plant for the middle of the table Id get that cheaper in wait wheres this I saw them not long ago I love flowers Id love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with the fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying theres no God I wouldnt give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why dont they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because theyre afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they dont know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

Der Bloomsday, den die Freunde von James Joyce weltweit feiern, ist in diesem Blog immer wieder gewürdigt worden. Selten habe ich ihn vergessen, ich erhielt dann sofort E-Mails, die das bemängelten. Ich liste einmal die Posts auf, in denen er auf jeden Fall vorkommt: ➱Bloomsday, ➱Dublin, ➱St Patrick's Day, ➱WM, ➱Elvira Madigan, ➱Gisela von Stoltzenberg und ➱Goalies. Aber heute reden wir einmal nicht über Leopold Bloom, heute bekommt Molly das Wort. Dies ist der Schluß ihres Monologs, das Ende des Romans, das den Titel Penelope hat (wenn Sie es in ganzer Länge lesen wollen, klicken Sie ➱hier). Ich habe den Monolog ➱hier auch mit Bild und Ton aus dem Jahre 1967. Da wird Molly Bloom von Barbara Jefford gespielt, die Molly in Ulysses war ihre erste Filmrolle. Es ist wunderbar gesprochen, man merkt, dass sie aus der Royal Shakespeare Company kommt.

Der ➱Film war damals für mich eine Enttäuschung, ich hätte es besser wissen und lieber in den Western gehen sollen, der im nächsten Kino lief. Man kann Ulysses nicht verfilmen. Finnegans Wake auch nicht, aber das kann man ja nicht einmal lesen. XII 1960 steht mit Bleistift in meiner Ausgabe des Ulysses (natürlich die alte Übersetzung von Georg Goyert), da hatte ich den Roman zum ersten Mal gelesen.

Es blieb nicht das einzige Mal, bald besaß ich den englischen Text, an den ich mich 1960 noch nicht herangewagt hatte. ➱James Joyce ist in diesem Blog immer wieder erwähnt worden. Der liebste Post ist mir, weil ich ebenso sentimental wie Joyce bin, derjenige, der ➱The Lass of Aughrim heißt. Und den Film zu der Kurzgeschichte The Dead von John Huston gibt es ➱hier auch. Huston hat hier im Sterben bewiesen, dass man Joyce doch verfilmen kann. Er führte ➱Regie im Rollstuhl, an ein Sauerstoffgerät angeschlossen, ein Vierteljahr nach den Dreharbeiten war er tot.