Having my way with Ulysses

Think you’re escaping and run into yourself.

• Nausicaa

  The director of one of the state prisons told his inmates that there were certain tombs in an ancient river bed and promised freedom to whoever might make an important discovery. During the months preceding the excavation the inmates were shown photographs of what they were to find. This first effort proved that expectation and anxiety can be inhibitory; a week's work with pick and shovel did not manage to unearth anything in the way of a hrön except a rusty wheel of a period posterior to the experiment. 8:55 pm

Getting dark now.  From within: windows turning into mirrors; from without: mirrors turning into windows.  Can be shocking to be within and turn the light on, suddenly see yourself as others see you.  From without, we get the gradual, surroundings disappearing, and what you’re doing in there, well, darling little wretch, I see your I see all.  Baby your longest way round is the shortest way home. Think you’re escaping?  You’ve run into yourself.  Naughty darling.  Now let’s lie on our back and watch until three stars apparate, maybe we’ll see something new.  It’s the new I want.  Nothing’s new under the sun; let’s see what charades the moon will play.  Or a comet, Rip Van-Winkling toward us: coming back after twenty years asleep.  We’ll kiss our shoulder and take a return voyage around our own little world.

A star I see. Venus?

• Nausicaa

Say them all but tell them apart, cadenzando coloratura! R is Rubretta and A is Arancia, Y is for Yilla and N for greeneriN. B is Boyblue with odalisque O while W waters the fleurettes of novembrance. Though they're all but merely a schoolgirl yet these way went they. I' th' view o' th'avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. 8:53 pm

[Scene:  Rehearsal for Circe.  Venus dressed as a heliotrope in furs is practicing the Dance of the Hours with the  Roygbiv Vance dancers: Rose, Sevilla, Citronelle, Esmeralde, Pervinca, Indra, and Viola.  The director is perched in the upstage grid and the stage manager and asm are in the booth. The nobleman, McIntosh, the newsboys, a hag carrying a bottle and Grace Darling are waiting stage right to rehearse their number: “O by the by that Lotion”]

God [On the god mic.  Always on the damn god mic.  Does he really need the entire house to hear him?  Really?]  I know the sun sets in the west Venus, I was the one who put it there in the first place!

Venus:  The hell you were!

God:  Nevermind the direction, this is theatre!  Our business is illusion.  We are representing truth, not telling it.  Who bloody cares if the sun is setting in the Southeast?

Venus:  I do! I need to absorb all the reality I can so my instrument can feel the very atmosphere of the scene.  How can I do that if you move the sun to the wrong place?

God: Look, you think it’s easy to move the sun around?  My joints are on the rack!

Jesus:  Dad?  Those distant hills seem coming nigh.

God:  I know, they needed to be closer for this scene.  Ignore them, the’ll stop soon.

Venus:  Listen God, I need the light to set in the west: it is a kind of reassuring.  I can’t.  I can’t work like this.

[A feather falls slowly from the grid, lands on Venus’ head.  She bursts into tears.]

Venus:  [Addressing the bird in the grid]  Thanks.  You’ve always brought me such peace.  You really are a promise of hope to me.  The girls too.  Sorry I got your names mixed up Indra, Viola.

Viola:  Don’t worry about it love.  Shall we go again?

McIntosh:  Do already!  The corns on my kismet are killing me!

Venus:  Who is that guy?

God: Jesus?

Jesus: Nobody knows, he just showed up.  Wait.  Where did he go?  Doesn’t he know it’s damn frustrating when people appear and disappear just like that!

God:  Never mind him, he was probably just a mirage.  Now Venus, the director wants you to practice in front of a mirror, hold his feather while you do it if it helps you.

Venus:  There’s no way I can do that.  I don’t want to see myself, that would shatter the reality I’m creating.

God: It’s hard I know, but still you learn something.  We all could stand to see ourselves as other see us. That’s the way to find out.  See yourself, scowl or smile, then ask yourself, who am I now?  Will you try it?

Venus:  Can I do it naked?

God: So long as women don’t mock what matter?

I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I?

• Lestrygonians

1:36 pm

The moon and the sun are the same size.  Apparent size, but what else is there for us on the ground?  They are both 110 times their diameters away from us.  Why the same?  Now that’s really a coincidence.  Maybe it has something to do with parallax?

Measure your diameter.  Then multiply by 110.  Now, stand that far away from Molly.  Go ahead, you’ll be in good company.  That’s where I am, apparently.  Welcome to my world.  She said she could never like it again after Rudy died.  Something changed.  She held up her finger.  Hold up your finger and measure your finger tip.  Multiply by 110 — that’s about your arm’s length, a coincidence?  Stretch out your arm with your finger erect and blot out the sun.  Go ahead, give it the finger!  Feel that power.  Sexual.  Yes.  Yes.  Ah.  Well.

It was a full moon that night walking with Molly, he on the other side of her.  The daughter of the moon and she’s beaming.  He’s blazing.  Their fingers touch palms.  Ask with finger in palm, a little tickle.  Touch me.  Answer back.  Yes.  Eclipse me baby.  Stop.  Stop.  If it was it was.  Is, is.  Done.  Stop.  Something else.

Would I go back to times before fingers and touches and apparent distances?  Can’t bring back time.  Can’t bring back anything.  Like holding water in your hand.  I am the water.  Time is not a thing, it is an experience and even a feature of me.  And I was happier then.  I was.  Was that I?  Am I now I?  If it is true that I am someone, and that I was also someone, are we (this I, that I) the same I?  If we were all suddenly somebody else.  I was happier then.  Absolutely.  There is no absolute.  And I.  I am not I.  I am a multiple divided creature.   I am we.  We are legion.  Enough.  The machinery of the world is much too complex for the simplicity of men.