Who is Godfrey in James Joyce’s Ulysses?
Godfrey is a hallucinatory figure appearing in the “Circe” episode of James Joyce’s Ulysses, embodying Leopold Bloom’s Catholic guilt about sexuality. He manifests when Bloom visits a brothel in Dublin’s Nighttown district, confronting him about his voyeurism and marital infidelity through accusatory dialogue. Unlike named prostitutes like Zoe or Florry, Godfrey represents a psychological projection rather than a physical character.
This spectral figure draws from multiple cultural references: the historical Godfrey of Bouillon (leader of the First Crusade), religious imagery of judgment, and Dublin’s street culture. Joyce uses him to expose Bloom’s internalized shame about his suppressed desires and encounters with sex workers. The character vanishes as abruptly as he appears, reflecting the unstable reality of the hallucinatory brothel sequence where identities and morals dissolve.
Why does Godfrey appear alongside prostitutes in the narrative?
Godfrey emerges amid prostitution scenes to heighten the moral confrontation. In the chaotic brothel environment – with Bella Cohen’s sex workers, drunken patrons, and surreal transformations – he becomes the voice of societal condemnation. His presence creates a stark contrast between carnal commerce and rigid Catholic morality, mirroring Dublin’s hypocritical attitudes toward sexuality in 1904.
Joyce intentionally places this puritanical specter in a brothel to satirize Ireland’s contradictory relationship with sex work: publicly condemned yet privately tolerated. The prostitutes’ tangible reality (negotiating prices, mocking clients) clashes with Godfrey’s abstract righteousness, revealing how moral judgments crumble in spaces of raw human need.
What role do prostitutes play in Ulysses’ Circe episode?
Prostitutes serve as catalysts for psychological revelation and social critique throughout the Circe episode. Characters like Bella Cohen (the madam), Zoe Higgins, Florry Talbot, and Kitty Ricketts interact with Bloom and Stephen Dedalus, exposing their vulnerabilities through sharp dialogue and symbolic gestures. Their brothel becomes a theatrical space where repressed desires surface through grotesque fantasies and power reversals.
Joyce uses these characters to dismantle class pretensions: when Stephen drunkenly declares “I am the servant of two masters,” Zoe retorts, “A servant of a servant,” mocking his intellectualism. Their exchanges highlight how sex workers navigate survival in a patriarchal society, wielding limited agency while reflecting Dublin’s economic stratification. The episode’s dream logic amplifies their symbolic weight – they transform into mythological figures, embodying both temptation and maternal archetypes.
How historically accurate is Joyce’s portrayal of Dublin prostitution?
Joyce’s depiction aligns with early 1900s Dublin brothel culture documented in police archives and social reformer reports. Monto district (Nighttown’s real-life counterpart) housed over 1,600 sex workers servicing soldiers, students, and merchants. Like Bella Cohen’s establishment, most brothels operated under madams who paid police bribes, with workers facing disease, addiction, and violence – realities referenced through Kitty’s syphilis and Zoe’s morphine use.
However, Joyce elevates these women beyond victims. Florry’s weary wisdom (“Men are so different”) and Zoe’s street-smart banter reveal complex inner lives, challenging reductive stereotypes. Their frank discussions of money (charging “ten shillings” for services) underscore prostitution’s economic function in a city with limited female employment options beyond factories or domestic service.
What themes connect Godfrey and prostitution in Ulysses?
The entwined motifs explore guilt, commodification, and liberation through three core themes:
Religious Shame vs. Carnal Reality: Godfrey’s accusatory presence embodies Catholic sexual guilt, while prostitutes represent bodily existence beyond moral binaries. Bloom’s simultaneous attraction to and fear of them illustrates this tension.
Economic Exploitation: Prostitution literalizes the novel’s critique of capitalism. Godfrey’s crusader allusion contrasts with sex workers’ pragmatic negotiations – both reflect systems extracting value from bodies (through holy wars or commercialized intimacy).
Identity Fragmentation: In Circe’s hallucinatory space, Godfrey and the prostitutes become fluid symbols. Bella transforms into a dominatrix, Bloom becomes a pig, and Zoe reads Stephen’s palm – all identities destabilize, questioning fixed notions of sin and purity.
How does Bloom’s interaction with prostitutes reveal his character?
Bloom’s encounters expose his compassionate contradictions. Unlike Stephen’s detached intellectualism or the soldiers’ brutality, Bloom treats sex workers with awkward kindness – offering money to protect Stephen, not demanding sex. His famous question to Zoe, “May I touch your… nape?” reveals hesitant desire tempered by respect, contrasting with other clients’ entitlement.
Yet Godfrey’s taunts (“Adulterer!”) underscore Bloom’s hypocrisy: he judges Bella’s profession while writing erotic letters as “Henry Flower.” Joyce positions Bloom as a modern Odysseus navigating brothels not with heroism, but human frailty – seeking connection yet trapped by societal shame.
Why did Joyce link Godfrey and prostitution in Ulysses?
Joyce fused these elements to critique Ireland’s moral paralysis. Godfrey symbolizes the oppressive Catholic nationalism dominating post-Parnell Ireland, while prostitutes represent marginalized voices exposing societal rot. Their collision in Nighttown mirrors Joyce’s view of Dublin as a “city of paralysis” where sexual repression fuels hypocrisy.
Literarily, the pairing advances modernist techniques: hallucinations (Godfrey) heighten psychological realism; brothel dialogues employ stream-of-consciousness to fracture linear narrative. Historically, Joyce – who walked Dublin’s red-light districts – rejected Victorian sentimentalism about prostitution. His unflinching portrayal forced readers to confront uncomfortable truths about desire and power.
How does feminist criticism interpret these portrayals?
Feminist readings diverge sharply. Some scholars (like Bonnie Kime Scott) argue Joyce perpetuates male gaze tropes: prostitutes exist primarily to reveal male psychology, with minimal interiority. Godfrey’s moralizing reflects patriarchal control over female sexuality.
Conversely, critics (including Margot Norris) highlight subversive agency: Bella dominates clients through economic power; Zoe’s wit deflates male pretensions. Their community resists victim narratives – when Stephen smashes a chandelier, they demand payment, asserting autonomy even in degradation. Joyce’s nuanced characterizations challenge reductive feminist binaries about sex work representation.
How do Godfrey and the prostitutes advance Ulysses’ structure?
They anchor the novel’s climax in the Circe episode, where naturalism collapses into expressionist drama. Godfrey’s apparition triggers Bloom’s deepest psychological unmasking, while prostitutes facilitate Stephen’s breakdown – their interactions propel both protagonists toward transformative crises.
Thematically, they crystallize Joyce’s exploration of “metempsychosis” (soul transmigration). Godfrey channels historical religious fanaticism reborn in Bloom’s guilt; prostitutes echo ancient fertility goddesses degraded in industrial society. Structurally, their scenes parody morality plays, with Godfrey as accusatory angel and brothel residents as fallen world guides.
What symbolic objects are associated with them?
Key motifs include:
Godfrey’s Armor: His crusader garb symbolizes militant morality, contrasting with the brothel’s fleshly vulnerability.
Bella’s Fan: When she snaps it, men transform into animals – representing feminine power inverting patriarchal control.
Zoe’s Cigarette: Its glowing tip in darkness mirrors both sexual allure and the “spark” of consciousness amid moral void.
Potato Talisman: Bloom’s carryover from earlier episodes fails against Godfrey’s accusations, showing rationalism’s limits against guilt.
How have interpretations evolved since Ulysses’ publication?
Early 20th-century critics focused on moral outrage, labeling Circe “obscene” for depicting prostitution. Mid-century scholars (Ellmann, Tindall) analyzed Godfrey as Jungian shadow-figure. Post-1980s criticism prioritized socioeconomics: critics like Emer Nolan tied brothel scenes to colonial exploitation, while queer theory (Joseph Valente) examined Bloom’s homoerotic tension with soldiers amid sex workers.
Contemporary readings increasingly center sex workers’ perspectives. Recent studies by Katherine Mullin use police archives to verify Joyce’s accuracy, affirming how Zoe’s pragmatic resilience critiques systemic inequality – transforming “fallen women” into complex actors within Dublin’s oppressed underclass.
What adaptations highlight these characters?
Notable interpretations include:
Joseph Strick’s 1967 film: Godfrey appears as a robed phantom amid brothel chaos, emphasizing psychological horror.
Ralph Fiennes’ 1998 stage performance: His Bloom trembled before Godfrey’s voice (amplified through echo effects), then tenderly interacted with prostitutes.
Kate Bush’s “The Sensual World” (1989): Lyrics channel Molly Bloom’s perspective, referencing “Zoe’s chemical perfume” to reclaim feminine desire.
These adaptations progressively shift focus from moral judgment to humanization, reflecting changing attitudes toward sexuality and sex work.
