Lestrygonians

Here we follow Mr. Bloom as he takes a walk [no way!] through Dublin and while I enjoy Leopold thoroughly, I'm beginning to worry about Stephen. How is his day going?
By now we are familiar with Bloom's somewhat raw physicality, but in Lestrygonians he seems a more sympathetic character. Aside from fixating on his wife and their lost son, the motives of his fantasy-affair are more clearly established. As in scene at the newspaper in the previous chapter, Bloom seems to be searching for some sort of validation when he notes the poet Russell's ladyfriend quietly listening to the author and remarks "She's taking it all in. Not saying a word." To aid gentleman in literary work." In this moment, Bloom appears as a man with simple wants; we know he takes comfort in the physical and begin to realize his basic urges for acknowledgment.
Bloom is a curiosity in that, though he is disconnected from his environment he seems to be truly invested in Dublin. Although he occupies the fringe, he is a part of the community and I often find myself forgetting that he is a Jew for his Irishness is apparent in certain ways. The audience is even afforded a flashback to a nationalist protest where he was almost beaten and/or arrested.
Finally we see Bloom cowering at the sight of Blaze Boylan, his wife's lover, and one cannot help but pity him. As it does earlier in the chapter as Bloom describes meat, the prose becomes fragmented and hurried reflecting Bloom's anxiety and fear at the sight of Boylan. Instead of the toilet victory or the calm of the bathtub, we are treated to a hasty and humiliating retreat.
In addition to an ever-expanding grasp of Mr. Bloom's inner/outer workings, I appreciate the constant potty-humor, particular his personification of the cruel pigeons.

Lotus Eaters

In The Lotus Eaters, Joyce further fixates on the barren and desolate, invoking the image of the Dead Sea in Leopold Bloom's mind. When not trying to recall some scientific law from school, Bloom makes his way through Dublin's streets on the way to Dignam's funeral. Throughout the chapter, Bloom's interactions with others are impersonal and fleeting as he seems to go through the motions. There is certainly a sense of detachment from others in Bloom's actions as he admires meats through a shop window or reads a letter from his “naughty” pen-pal. Rather than engage in any real or meaningful affair, Bloom exchanges letters with a woman whom he seems to consider less-than-intelligent. Though he is excited, he excuses her foolishness, rationalizing, “no roses without thorns,” surely the inspiration for Poison frontman, Bret Michaels' classic ballad.

Aside from Bloom's fantasy-affair, the Lotus Eaters possesses a sort of hazy, almost surreal quality as Joyce references the opiates of the “celestials” and imagines “a dull flood.. flowing together, winding through mud-flats all over the level land, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth.” In many ways the chapter itself is “a dull flood,” of people, places, and sensations and Bloom almost seems to be swept through the scenes rather than making a path for himself.

Adding to the air of somewhat detached spectatorship Bloom observes the traditional Catholic funeral service as an alien. He is not as much mocking the affair as Bloom is admiring the mass as a sociologist might. Particularly strange to the insular Bloom is the Sacrament of Confession which he sees as a sort of self-punishment/ humiliation ritual.

While The Lotus Eaters is somewhat more murky and cerebral than Calypso, the reader is still fully aware of Bloom's physicality in the final scene. One easily imagine the steamy bathhouse and its scented oils as Bloom lies in the tub relishing in sensation and contemplating his “limp father of thousands.”

Calypso

As Calyspo opens, the reader is immediately aware of a shift from the scattered, metaphysical view of Stephen's Dublin to the visceral world of Leopold Bloom. Much of the chapter details Bloom's eating habits, particularly his fixation on various meats. Rather than portray him as a glutton, Joyce seems to characterize Bloom with a sort of desperation and his consumption seems to reveal an underlying insatiability. Missing from the chapter is a sense of momentum, rather the section, and Bloom by proxy, seems stationary, if not stagnant.

This sense of wanting for more and the inability to attain it is most evident as Bloom reflects on an advertisement for am agrarian Zionist settlement and the various produce that might be grown there. He dismisses the advertisement, though not without some reluctance, stating: “Nothing doing. Still an idea behind it.” On the next page he thinks of the same land, that of his Jewish ancenstry, as “a barren land...the grey sunken cunt of the world.” In these contrasting images, the reader is allowed a window into Bloom as a man who is not conflicted, in the manner Stephen is conflicted, but who's world is very much solidified and unchanging.

The nature of Bloom's static existence is further explored as he describes the concept of “Metempsychosis” to his wife. There is certainly an irony in the description of the transience of souls from a man so firmly rooted to the physical world and its indulgences. Although he grasps the concept, the reader is acutely aware of the fact that Leopold Bloom was never anything but himself. Also, reflecting on the theme of reincarnation, Joyce's personification of the cat seems especially clever (not to mention the themes of communication with both the cat and Mrs. Bloom).

Ultimately, Bloom, while a strong character, comes across as somewhat ineffectual as his most victorious moment in Calypso comes while he is sitting on the toilet.