After Mulligan tells Stephen to "Give up the moody brooding"
about his mother's death, he quotes some apposite lines from a
song in W. B. Yeats' play The Countess Kathleen: "And
no more turn aside and brood / Upon love’s bitter mystery."
The song’s soothing images of shore and sea underline the
gesture that Mulligan has just made toward the surrounding
water: “Look at the sea. What does it care about
offences?" Within a few lines it becomes clear that
Stephen too knows the song well, but for him it carries more
troubling meanings in relation to his mother.
Kathleen (the spelling was changed to Cathleen
in later versions) was first published in 1892 and first
performed in 1899. Joyce attended the premiere. He did not
care either for the play's overtly political agenda or for the
political backlash against it (he refused to sign a student
petition objecting to its disrespect for Christian doctrine).
But, as Ellmann reports, he was deeply moved by the song; "its
feverish discontent and promise of carefree exile were to
enter his own thought, and not long afterwards he set the poem
to music and praised it as the best lyric in the world" (67).
The lyrics are sung to console the Countess, after she has
sold her soul to the devil to relieve her starving tenants:
Who will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep wood’s woven shade,
And dance upon the level shore?
Young man, lift up your russet brow,
And lift your tender eyelids, maid,
And brood on hopes and fears no more.
And no more turn aside and brood
Upon love’s bitter mystery;
For Fergus rules the brazen cars,
And rules the shadow of the wood,
And the white breast of the dim sea
And all disheveled wandering stars.
Stephen sang the song for his mother when she was dying, and
phrases from it hover in his thoughts now: “Woodshadows”
(in the following line of the novel) recalls Yeats’ “shadow of
the wood,” and “White breast of the dim sea”
(two lines after that) quotes from the song verbatim. Mulligan
hears the poem's promise of happy release, but Stephen attends
more to the anguished love that motivates the
Countess. He recalls that when he had finished singing
the song and playing its “long dark chords,” his mother “was
crying in her wretched bed” for “those words, Stephen:
love’s bitter mystery.” Love is a mystery which he has not begun to
fathom but must learn, as both she and he know. Against
Mulligan’s escape into hedonism, then, Stephen finds himself
pulled toward deeper emotional engagement.
As a figure of Christian piety, suffering, and martyrdom,
Stephen's mother fills
him with terror and guilt, and his brooding on her death
is certainly unhealthy. But like Kathleen she has known
the love that frees one from the tyranny of
egoism. (After her death the countess is redeemed and
ascends into heaven, because her apostasy sprang from generous
motives.) Stephen must brood on this mystery.
