Marguerite Regan begins her article “’Weggebobbles and Fruit’: Bloom’s Vegetarian Impulses” by questioning how one could consider Bloom as someone who possess “vegetarian impulses,” as his Joyce’s introduction to his character is surrounded by the meat he enjoys cooking and eating. But Regan does not dwell on this inconsistency, as she has another argument to make about the implications of vegetarianism, rather than Bloom’s unlikely conversion to it. Regan begins her argument by discussing “vegetarian texts,” and whether or not Joyce’s Ulysses can even qualify as such a text (463). She then gives a brief history on vegetarianism and how it is seen in literature and how Joyce, through Bloom, alludes to it in Lestrygonians.
Regan first examines vegetarianism and its relationship with feminism, as vegetarianism is said to “protest against the ‘brutality of the strong against the weak, whether on the part of men against women or human beings toward animals’” (466). She then discusses the many instances in which Bloom demonstrates kindness or sympathy toward animals, such as his fondness of his cat, the sympathy he feels for the horses in Lotus Eaters, and the sheep in Hades. According to Regan, Bloom’s sensitivities toward others, including animals, prompt action in Lestrygonians, when Bloom escapes Burton for a vegetarian lunch. Regan explains that when Bloom’s thoughts darken, we hear talk of cannibalism and “rhetoric of violence and disgust” (470). This talk of cannibalism, as Regan points out, is less violent on the behalf of Bloom’s wandering mind and more indicative of Bloom’s equal regard for all humans as well as other living creatures, as he remarks that it doesn’t matter what “meat” the rats will eat, human or otherwise.
Regan also discusses Bloom’s semi-conscious connection between dullness and society conditioned meat eating, and how Bloom associates the meat industry and thus meat eating with imperial England. Following this association, Ireland–both the land and the people–are the “poor, consumed cow” (472). Regan’s final paragraph argues that meat eating is an excellent symbol for political and cultural dominance and that, at this point, it cannot be ignored. Meat is more of a central topic in Ulysses than vegetarianism, and Regan even points out that Bloom will not forsake his diet of meat for “weggebobbles and fruit.” She does, however, make a clear point that Bloom’s good nature toward others, in his thoughts and actions, seems to offer up questions on power in society, and readers are invited to sympathize and question along with him.
My first reaction upon reading this article was that of uncertainty. I was unsure of how Regan was going to take something like vegetarianism and make it relate in the multitude of complex ways that it does to Ulysses. But Regan makes her case well, with the history of vegetarianism, the character of Leopold Bloom, and chapter eight on her side. Lestrygonians is full of food-related imagery. However, I agree with Regan’s claim that this imagery is not so new, if we have been paying close attention. When we first meet Bloom, he is described by his love of meat and though in the background of other events, we see him buying and cooking a kidney in detail. What I think Regan so smartly points out is Bloom’s love for animals. We see, time and time again, that Bloom not only cares for and appreciates animals, but he also has a genuine respect for them as beings not too different from humans. As morbid as it sounds, I also think Bloom’s description of rats eating humans after they die is indicative of how Bloom is both consciously and unconsciously sensitive to animals, because he is comparing them to humans by comparing every creature to meat. Thus, “meat is meat” so to speak, and Bloom has not placed himself above anyone else’s “meat.”
But it is not just animals that Bloom shows his compassion toward in Lestrygonians. More so than the issue of vegetarianism, I think the issue of power and oppression and what gives one the right to “eat” another is what is really at stake here. I also believe that Lestrygonians demonstrates Bloom’s ability to sympathize with the women he sees around him, starting with Stephen’s sister. But perhaps he most adeptly sympathizes with his own wife, Molly. Throughout the chapter we see Bloom viewing women as complex people, with more to them that meets the eye. Even though Bloom’s sexual frustration constitutes a fair portion of his consciousness when he is thinking of Molly, there is always much more to it than that. His fantasies are in many ways loving, and it appears what he is missing most is intimacy, not just physical, but spiritual intimacy as well. Bloom may long to connect with his wife, and when he comments on her “witty” remark on the “barreltone” singer (Joyce 126: 117) and empathizes so heavily with the process of childbearing and childbirth (132), we can see that he not only respects women, but he views them in complicated, realistic ways, and he does not allow himself to hold power over the women he knows.
Perhaps Regan’s argument that Ireland is the cow offering its meat to imperial England to be consumed is her most obscure claim. Despite the hidden nature of this argument, it is present within the text with a little digging around and interpretation, and it definitely follows the rest of her argument on vegetarianism. However, I did not find that argument to be the most interesting part of the article. After reading Regan’s ideas, I was most intrigued by how similar Bloom and Stephen are in regard to loving animals. Back in chapter three, Stephen compared himself to the dog he was watching on the beach, which suggests that as different as the two men are, they are also a lot alike—and they are not even living in different countries, or different sexes, let alone different species…
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