Public and Private Masculinity: James Joyce’s Preference for Compromised Manhood

Public and Private Masculinity: James Joyce’s Preference for Compromised Manhood in Ulysses’ “Cyclopes” and “Penelope” and the Short Story, “The Dead”

            One particular aspect of the modernist movement is that the writers usually use their works to investigate and challenge conventional values or beliefs. Virginia Woolf redefines the essay-writing tradition by introducing a fictional character or scenario into it. Wilfred Owen, too, questions the old pro-war belief and points out the false promise that the motto “Dulce et Decorum est” or “It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country” gives to the soldiers fighting in the First World War. Likewise, James Joyce examines and challenges the notion of language itself in Finnegans Wake as he employs various “linguistic tactics” from complex structures to polyglot words and puns (Lohnes). The tendency to interrogate the firmly held beliefs can be said to manifest itself in many of Joyce’s works and the subject of such interrogation can span from the matter of Ireland’s sovereignty to the definition of marriage. In this paper, however, the topic of masculinity is the focus of my study. I argue that James Joyce uses the public moment to convince readers into believing that he supports the notion of hegemonic masculinity while using private moments to undermine the notion of stereotypical manhood and present his own preferred version of masculinity through the characters: Leopold Bloom in Ulysses and Gabriel Conroy in “The Dead”.  R.W. Connell’s concept of hegemonic masculinity is used to support my argument.

              Both Ulysses and “The Dead” share a modernist tendency to question conventional values. The seemingly mundane life of Leopold Bloom in Ulysses explores the nature of Irish society, as well as the nature of humans. It contemplates the question of what it means to be an Irishman through the eyes of a Jewish character and challenges the conventional image of marriage through the lives of a married couple who seek sexual affairs elsewhere. Similarly, “The Dead” raises questions about the definition of masculinity and male pride through the depiction of the protagonist, Gabriel Conroy. Through the imagery of snow covering all of Dublin which, as the narrator describes, denotes the sense of death destined for everything in the end, “The Dead” asks the readers to ponder upon the importance of masculine pride that Conroy holds on throughout the story and suggests the possibility of change in his masculine self.

However, Joyce does not state his challenges against conventional values overtly. He has a certain method of tricking the readers into believing that he supports one idea, but as the story unfolds, it turns out that he actually supports another. For example, in Ulysses, Leopold Bloom is not depicted to be ‘a typical hero’ in the sense that one would easily align with him morally and champion all of his decisions. Bloom is very much a flawed character. He constantly has sexual thoughts, has an affair with other women, and even masturbates in public. One has to learn to like Bloom. Like Molly does in “Penelope” when she insists that she prefers to be with Bloom despite having many other choices of men in her life, readers learn that Joyce uses Bloom to inhibit his political stance, such as anti-war and pro-milder masculinity. In “The Dead”, it is the opposite of what happens in Ulysses. Early in the story, Gabriel Conroy is described to be a respectable gentleman. He is highly educated. He has money. He also has the most power among the group of people attending the party, as suggested by his seating position at the head of the table. He is flawed, too, as shown when he unintentionally offends women with his words. However, he seems to be able to provide an adequate excuse for his behavior. Here, he is a protagonist whose status and position naturally invite readers’ trust and support. Yet, like Leopold Bloom, Joyce turns the course of the story against readers’ expectations toward the end. Conroy’s pride and belief in masculinity are shaken when he learns about the death of his wife’s former boyfriend. His mind is occupied by the notion of death. The incident sends him into an existential crisis and makes him question his old belief.

 Hegemonic Masculinity in Ulysses and “The Dead”

1. Ulysses

Leopold Bloom is officially introduced to the readers in “Calypso”. At this point of the book, the focal point is Bloom’s morning activities. He is mostly alone, pondering things that are narrated to us in the form of a stream of consciousness. He interacts with only two people in this chapter:  Dlugacz, the butcher, and Molly, his wife. His differences, in terms of race and gender, are mentioned, but without a juxtaposition with a sample of the hegemonic masculinity, they may pass the readers’ eyes unnoticed. Therefore, before discussing Bloom’s masculinity in “Calypso”, it may be more suitable to examine Bloom as opposed to other men in “Cyclopes” where Bloom’s masculinity is put up against that of the ‘real’ Irishmen. The dissimilarities in one another’s masculine natures would help point out Bloom’s version of masculinity that reflects Joyce’s preference.

In “Cyclops”, the narrator is not the same person as the readers meet in “Calypso”. He is an unnamed Dubliner who works as a debt collector: “How are the mighty fallen! Collector of bad and doubtful debts” (377). Early in the chapter, Joe asks the narrator to go with him to Barney Kiernan’s pub: “Come around to Barney Kiernan’s, says Joe. I want to see the citizen” (378), which the narrator accepts without hesitation: “Barney mavourneen’s be it, says I” (378). Here, Joyce presents to the readers a biased narrator. The main reason that Joe and the narrator want to go to the pub is to see “the citizen” who, as the readers will learn later in the chapter, strongly supports the idea of Irish separation and war that would ensure Ireland’s full sovereignty. “The citizen” is then the embodiment of Irish hegemonic masculinity in the sense that it is the dominant form of masculinity and it marginalizes other masculinities that do not conform to or deviate from its norm (Connell 78)—as seen in the citizen’s treatment against Bloom. The fact that Joe and the narrator “want to see the citizen” suggests their support of the citizen’s ideologies, in regard to both politics and gender. Therefore, Bloom is not going to be treated kindly as he used to be in “Calypso” which is narrated in the third person with a point of view limited exclusively to Bloom’s thoughts. For example, the narrator in “Cyclops” seems to be annoying by Bloom’s anti-war politics. After Bloom tells the men that war is not the answer and has to leave, the narrator thought to himself: “Who’s hindering you?” (432). The change in the point of view accentuates Bloom’s status as an outsider. He is just a person who accidentally stumbles upon this hostile situation in the pub. Therefore, it can be seen that Bloom is purposefully juxtaposed with the citizen thematically—in their arguments on Irish separation, oppression, and the use of force—as well as structurally—through the use of a biased narrator.

The setting where Bloom’s masculinity is put into question is also important. In “Calypso”, Bloom is in his home—his own element—and a somewhat[1] gender-neutral space of the Dublin town and the market, therefore his specific version of masculinity is not overtly challenged by other masculinities. However, as soon as Bloom steps into Barney Kiernan’s pub, he leaves the gender-neutral street of Dublin and enters the heavily masculine space. Every character mentioned in the pub is exclusively male. Inside, the atmosphere of the pub denotes a certain masculine quality.

So we turned into Barney Kiernan’s and there, sure enough, was the citizen up in the corner having a great confab with himself and that bloody mangy mongrel, Garryowen, and he waiting for what the sky would drop in the way of drink.

… The bloody mongrel let a grouse out of him would give you the creeps. Be a corporal work of mercy if someone would take the life of that bloody dog. (380-381)

The first thing that imprints onto the narrator’s impression as he first walks into the pub is an aggressive dog, Garryowen. More importantly, it is the dog of the citizen. As mentioned, the citizen is crucial as the opposite binary of Leopold Bloom when discussing their masculinities. Garryowen then can be seen as a reflection of its owner, thus suggesting an aggressive and violent nature of men. Although the narrator clearly dislikes Garryowen, he shares its nature of being violent and preferring the use of force by wishing that it would be better if someone were to kill the dog. It is just the first paragraph inside Barney Kiernan’s pub and the first definition of hegemonic masculinity is already established.

            When Bloom walks into the pub, the citizen’s Irish hegemonic masculinity is accentuated by Bloom’s differences. However, such differences are not only mentioned in terms of gender, but also in terms of race. While Bloom is talking with the men, Garryowen is sniffing him, to which the narrator remarks about Bloom’s differences as a Jew.

So they started talking about capital punishment and of course Bloom comes out with the why and the wherefore and all the codology of the business and the old dog smelling him all the time I’m told those jewies does have a sort of a queer odour coming off them for dogs about I don’t know what all deterrent effect and so forth and so on. (393; emphasis added)

As mentioned, the dog is perhaps an embodiment of the raw nature of masculinity in its aggressiveness. By sniffing Bloom, the dog might be suspicious that Bloom is not one of them in that Bloom does not show the quality of being a ‘real’[2] man. The fact that the narrator associates the dog’s behavior and Bloom’s ethnicity together might also suggest the connection between Bloom’s lesser masculinity and Jewishness.

            In the argument on Ireland’s separation, the citizen suggests that one can achieve sovereignty only through the use of military force: “We’ll put force against force, says the citizen. We have our greater Ireland beyond the sea” (427). John Wyse also adds to the citizen’s argument: “Right, says John Wyse. Stand up to it then with force like men” (432). Bloom does not agree with such a statement, as he argues:

—But it’s no use, says he. Force, hatred, history, all that. That’s not life for men and women, insult and hatred. And everybody knows that it’s the very opposite of that that is really life.

—What? says Alf.

—Love, says Bloom. I mean the opposite of hatred. (432)

The binary opposite between Bloom and other men in the conversation is emphasized by John Wyse’s argument that it is more ‘man-like’ for the Irish to use military force to secure their independence. Wyse’s argument then implies that Bloom’s preference for love and peace is ‘unman-like’. As a result, his non-aggressive political stance excludes him from Joyce’s definition of hegemonic masculinity.

            Joyce does not only address hegemonic masculinity in terms of a tendency to resort to violence but also in terms of race. After Bloom puts forth his anti-war argument, he leaves to meet Martin. Behind Bloom’s back, the men bring Bloom’s race into the argument:

—A new apostle to the gentiles, says the citizen. Universal love.

—Well, says John Wyse. Isn’t that what we’re told. Love your neighbour.

—That chap? says the citizen. Beggar my neighbour is his motto. Love, moya! He’s a nice pattern of a Romeo and Juliet. (432-433)

The citizen sarcastically equates Bloom’s stance for peace to the quality of “a new apostle” and speaks of “universal love” in a satirical tone. He also expresses his disdain for Bloom and the Jewish people by using the stereotypical image of a money-hungry and capital-monger Jew. According to Connell, “race relations may also become an integral part of the dynamic between masculinities. In a white-supremacist context, black masculinities play symbolic roles for white gender construction” (80), in that black masculinity serves as a reminder among whites that white masculinity is superior, thus is hegemonic. Here, we can take Connell’s statement and replace ‘white’ with ‘Irish’ and ‘black’ with ‘Jewish’. In the pub, Bloom’s peaceful political stance is rejected by the crowd not only because it is unmanlike, but also because he is a Jew which, in the Irish context, denotes lesser masculinity.

            Bloom inhabits this ‘lesser masculinity’ since he first appears in “Calypso”. His milder masculinity is mentioned at beginning of the chapter. He wakes up earlier than his wife to prepare breakfast for her. He goes out to buy food at the market. Here, it can be seen as a role reversal for Leopold and Molly. He does the tasks that are, conventionally, considered jobs for the housewife. He also shows an extraordinary tolerance when he finds out that his wife has an affair with someone else. He simply accepts his position and does not resort to using force or violence like Gerty MacDowell’s father as mentioned in “Nausicaa”. Furthermore, when Bloom is having his breakfast, he thinks about his living daughter, Milli, and his dead son, Rudy. In a patriarchal society where men take precedence over women, Rudy’s death might suggest Bloom’s lesser masculinity in that Bloom is unable to produce a healthy male heir to carry on his lineage.

• “The Dead”

“The Dead” is a short story that investigates the male psyche when he has to learn to put aside his ego or pride when interacting with women. The character development of Gabriel Conroy shows that even though he fails to understand two women, Lily and Molly Ivors, he is finally able to respect his wife as a woman. However, the change does cost him the pride in his manhood.

Gabriel Conroy is depicted to be a gentleman. He is loved and admired by many of his relatives at the party. However, he displays certain traits that suggest his subscription to the patriarchal ideology. There are two instances where his words offend the ones he talks to Lily and Molly Ivors. Upon his arrival, Lily comes to take his coat. Seeing that she has reached her adulthood, Gabriel remarks: “I suppose we’ll be going to your wedding one of these fine days with your young man, eh?” (Joyce). It might be a very mundane thing for a man in his position to say. However, his words unintentionally make Lily uncomfortable and compel her to admit her disappointment over men, or her romantic experience with men, to be exact: “The men that are now is only all palaver and what they can get out of you” (Joyce). Feeling guilty, he tries to compensate her with money instead of sincerely apologizing to her.

“O Lily,” he said, thrusting it into her hands, “it’s Christmas-time, isn’t it? Just … here’s a little….”

He walked rapidly towards the door.

“O no, sir!” cried the girl, following him. “Really, sir, I wouldn’t take it.”

“Christmas-time! Christmas-time!” said Gabriel, almost trotting to the stairs and waving his hand to her in deprecation.

The girl, seeing that he had gained the stairs, called out after him:

“Well, thank you, sir.” (Joyce)

The interaction between Gabriel and Lily shows that he tends to see things in financial terms. This might imply the competitiveness in masculine nature which, in the modern age, tends to manifest itself in the competition for one’s wealth. Gabriel, as a man, might unknowingly subscribe to the notion that money is a solution to everything. So, instead of acknowledging his fault and sincerely apologizing to Lily, he protects his ego by glossing over his offensive remark and instantly offering her money without providing a reason to what the money is exactly for. He reflects the emotional insensitivity in men in that he understands Lily’s upset reaction but is unable to cope with it empathically.

In Molly Ivors’ case, both Gabriel and Ivors are partially at fault. Ivors begins the conversation with an accusation that Gabriel is “a West Briton” because he writes literary columns for “The Daily Express”. Gabriel is upset with the accusation but does not reply. When it is their turn to dance together, the woman says that she “was only joking” and invites him “for an excursion to the Aran Isles this summer” which he rejects. After hearing the reason that he already has a plan to travel to continental Europe in summer, Ivors asks him frankly why he does not want to visit his own land. Gabriel then snaps at her by replying harshly that “I’m sick of my own country, sick of it!” (Joyce). His action causes Ivors to leave early. When he reflects on what he has done, he excuses his behavior and blames her that she has “no right to call him a West Briton” (Joyce). Although Ivors is not totally innocent in that she pursues a sensitive subject during a Christmas party, Gabriel’s curtness reflects the fragility of his ego. This is an example of how men value their pride over a cordial relationship on a joyous occasion. However, the interaction can be seen as a violence tendency. According to R.W. Connell, “[m]en gain a dividend from patriarchy in terms of honour, prestige and the right to command” (82). The stability of patriarchy means also the stability of their advantage, therefore “many members of the privileged group use violence to sustain their dominance” (83). As seen in Gabriel’s reaction, any challenge to their authority will be met with a harsh retaliation or, in this case, verbal violence.

Other than his inconsiderate treatment of women, Gabriel is depicted to be a man who enjoys his superiority. He is more educated than anyone in the party: “They would think that he was airing his superior education” (Joyce). He feels powerful as the head of this gathering: “Gabriel took his seat boldly at the head of the table” (Joyce). Most of all, he is sexually active: “Perhaps she had felt the impetuous desire that was in him” (Joyce). Even before the climax point where he learns his wife’s secret past, he “long[s] to be master of her strange mood” (Joyce).

The Undermining of the Hegemonic Masculinity Notion

            After Joyce sets readers’ expectations for the protagonist, he subverts their expectations in the characters’ private final moments. For Leopold Bloom, he has been teased with his lesser throughout the story. He is filled with insecurity because his wife has an affair with another man. He is mocked by the narrator in the chapter that he is supposed to be a protagonist like “Nausicaa” where the word “cuckoo”, whose sound resembles the word “cuckold”[3] (Sriratana), is repeated six times at the end of the chapter. However, most importantly, Joyce devotes a whole chapter using a new narrator to criticize Bloom’s race and attitude. In the last chapter, Bloom’s worth is redeemed by his wife in her final long soliloquy.

In “Penelope”, we learn Molly’s perception of Bloom’s masculinity. She finds being with him not bad in that at least it is not toxic. When considering phallus as a measure of masculinity, Bloom has a smaller genital than that of Blazes Boylan: “…no I never in all my life felt anyone had one the size of that to make you feel full up…like a Stallion driving it up into you…” (877). Smaller genital is usually considered less attractive in a patriarchal society. However, Joyce undermines the notion of ‘bigger is better’ by giving Boylan a sadistic, extreme masculine trait of liking to slap Molly’s behind (876).

Although she describes her sexual relationship with Boylan in a somewhat positive light, Molly insists that she prefers to have a child with Bloom: “…I risked having another not off him though still if he was married Im sure hed have a fine strong child but I font know Poldy has more spunk in him…” (877). This suggests that Bloom’s version of masculinity would be better to create a healthily functioning family. Bloom’s Jewish cleanliness is also praised by Molly: “Poldy…whatever he does always wipes his feet on the mat when he comes in wet or shine…” (880). Contrasting to the scene in the pub where Bloom’s Jewishness is attacked, his Jewish quality—if we consider cleanliness as one of the Jewish qualities—is appraised. Here, Bloom, a Jewish man, is compared to Denis, an Irish man. Denis’ dirtiness (880) might suggest the desired hegemonic masculinity of the Irishmen which Molly, as a representative of women, finds unpalatable. 

In sum, Joyce uses this private moment of Molly narrating the soliloquy as a way to suggest that regardless of what men think, Bloom’s lesser or softer masculinity is perhaps masculinity that women find more comfortable to be with for the rest of their life. It is a masculinity that does not need to subjugate women for its own survival but a masculinity that asks for peaceful and understanding cooperation between both sexes, as Molly puts it:

…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… (932)

            In “The Dead”, Gabriel Conroy’s demeanor changes when he learns about his wife’s ex-boyfriend. The dynamics in the relationship between his wife and Michael Furey are different from the dynamics between him and his wife. Gabriel seeks to dominate, while Michael loves with passion and is willing to die for her. Gabriel is confronted by a peculiar feeling he has never felt before and it compels him to reconsider his past actions and think more about death.

After the moment of ‘shock’, he becomes more in touch with his feeling: “Generous tears filled Gabriel’s eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman, but he knew that such a feeling must be love” (Joyce). At this point, he shed away his prideful masculinity and embraces his tears, usually a symbol of weakness—an unmasculine sentiment. He thinks he sees an image of Michael before him and it makes him realize how close he is to death: “He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence” (Joyce). In the next sentence, Gabriel continues: “His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world” (Joyce). Here, I interpreted it as his identity that he shows us in the party—his superiority as a man, his want to dominate, his position to offend women without much repercussion—is nothing in the face of death. His dependence on the display of masculinity is very minute in the grand scheme of things.

Works Cited

“Cuckold.” Cambridge Dictionary, https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/cuckold.

Connell, Raewyn. “The Social Organization of Masculinity”. Masculinities. 2^nd edition. University of California Press. 2005, pp. 67-81.

Joyce, James. “Dubliners.” The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dubliners, by James Joyce, https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2814/2814-h/2814-h.htm#chap15.

Joyce, James. Ulysses. London, Penguin, 1992.

Sriratana, Verita. Seminar on Special Topics in Literature: James Joyce’s Ulysses, “Nausicaa”. 22 Feb. 2022, Chulalongkorn University, Class Lecture.     

[1] By using an adverb of degree, “somewhat”, I acknowledge that the seemingly gender-neutral space like a street or a market can be influenced by the patriarchal or masculine nature of the society. For example, a woman is portrayed to be a subject of Bloom’s sexual stare when waiting in line to buy meat. The word, ‘gender-neutral’ here, therefore, does not denote a space where people of all genders can feel welcomed and safe (unlike the modern use of the word, for example, gender-neutral toilets or gender-neutral pronouns), rather it suggests a place where people of all genders coexist.

[2] ‘Real’ in a quotation mark is used to point out Bloom’s unique masculinity from the point of view the dominated Irish hegemonic masculinity and is not intended to signify that there is, in fact, a real man or a not-real man.

[3] Cuckold: “a man whose wife deceives him by having a sexual relationship with another man” (Cambridge Dictionary)