Thursday, 12 December 2019, End of episode 3

Today we finished reading the third episode.

Summary:
The two people Stephen sees walking shoreward are a woman and a man (3.331). The dog is their's. As the dog suddenly runs off, the man whistles calling the dog back.  The two are cocklepickers (cocklers gather shellfish (cockles) from the sand at low tide; Oxford Reference Dictionary). They wade into the water, dip their bags in, before lifting them again and wading out.

Stephen is sitting on a stool of rock watching the cocklepickers and their dog. (Joyce's description of their actions and of the dog's (running around, sniffing the carcass, etc., are very picturesque.) His mind is busy with thoughts. Biblical episodes, words from the Bible, from Aristotle, from Oscar Wilde, from Yeats, from Ibsen, from Shakespeare and others are swirling around in his mind. Watching the two people walking on the clammy sand, with the woman following the man, Stephen fantasises about the two, about how her fancyman* [treats] two Royal Dblins in O'Loughlinis of Blackpitts**. These thoughts lead to Adam and Eve and their being banished from the Garden of Eden,  followed by the sun's flaming sword (3.391).

Amidst all these thoughts, Stephen tries to jot down a poem he has been composing. Not having any paper at hand, he tears of a piece from the letter Mr. Deasy had given him to get published in a newspaper. 

The tide comes in. The water reminds Stephen of the drowned man he had heard about that morning. He pictures to himself how the corpse [rises] saltwhite from the undertow, bobbling a pace a pace a porpoise landward (3.472). Imagining how a quiver of minnows (3.476) will be swimming around the corpse, Stephen tells himself God becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes featherbed mountain (3.477). In this one sentence God, Jesus, the Featherbed Mountain south of Dublin are brought together explaining the name Proteus, Joyce gave to this episode. 

Still thoughts of Mulligan are not far from Stephen's mind. He searches for the handkerchief Mulligan had taken that morning to wipe his razor blade. Not finding it, Stephen places the snot he had picked from his nostril on a rock, and gets ready to move. Because all days make their end. By the way . . . Tuesday will be the longest day*** (3.490).

* a man who lives on the income of a prostitute (Gifford, 3.377)

** apparently an unlicensed bar or public house (Gifford, 3.377)

*** The longest day in Dublin is the 21st June. This day being a Thursday - according to the Schema Joyce had put together - the date of the novel is 16th.