Scylla and Charybdis

In this episode we get a closer look at Stephen's struggle to realize his talent. He spends the whole chapter making an argument that he himself is not convinced by. Like Odysseus, he navigates toward one regret to avoid a much greater one. When Stephen admits his lack of conviction the others chastise him. It's unclear whether he might have published his Hamlet theory had he lied and said he believed it. But that moment of honesty is bound to the disappointment that follows.

Many of Stephen's arguments, which he assumes for the sake of argument, end up revealing truths in himself. As he comments on Shakespeare's self-constructed image, Stephen inwardly contemplates his own appearance to others in the mode of genius poet. Speeches about Shakespeare's wife and lovers remind Stephen and show us that he is in pursuit of love himself - not just as a means for gratification but as a muse. The idea of "meeting oneself" haunts him till the very end ("If Socrates leave his house today, if Judas go forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time must come to, ineluctable").

Stephen being a writer, Joyce appoints him as pseudo-narrator for this episode, as he did in the Proteus episode. Stephen's thoughts, often the most jeering and cynical ones, bleed into the narrative - especially in the descriptions of how characters make statements: "Gentle Will is being roughly handled, gentle Mr. Best said gently". Stephen spitefully ties the statements and arguments of the newsmen around him to their behavior and character. Does he doubt their sincerity? Or does he think they should not be sincere? Does he envy their conviction in what they say? It may be a combination of all three.

Regardless, Stephen has a strong air of resentment for most of this episode. He doesn't seem to like arguing points that he disagrees with as much as he lets on. Towards the end we get a striking lucid moment like when Stephen is "shielding his gaping wounds" in Telemachus: "He laughed to free his mind from his mind's bondage." In one sense, this brings us back to Stephen's unique manifold of torment. His dead mother haunts him, as does his stunted ambition as a poet and Buck Mulligan's coercion. In another sense, this line brings Stephen closer than he ever has been to Bloom. We're reminded that communicating in academic speeches is not that far from being unable to speak at all. Stephen is spectacled by his peers while Bloom is shouldered. But they both have to fake their dispositions to overcome their social obstacles - Stephen with his seriousness and Bloom with his indifference to Jewishness.