But it is Molly's portrait of Bloom that is most crucial to an understanding of Ulysses, for in her thoughts about Bloom, we can see that Molly's adultery was triggered, basically, by the failings of two people. We sympathized with Bloom throughout the novel; now, in "Penelope," we hear Molly's side of the story.
Bloom is quirkish in many ways — apart from his sexual abnormalities. Although Bloom can be pleasant to beggars and waiters, he is often irascible with others, especially employers, and Molly wonders when he will lose his present job because of his know-it-all ways. Bloom's glib commonplace that Christ was the first Socialist made the sensitive Molly cry. And Molly is aware that while Bloom pretends indifference to pretty girls, he is often ogling them with a sly eye. Bloom really does not like to work (despite all of his moralizing to Stephen in "Eumaeus"); instead, he would rather stay around the house all day, getting under Molly's feet. Bloom is a bit of a faker; once he pretended to know how to row, and he almost drowned himself and Molly. Another time, he thought that he heard a burglar, and he came down the steps trembling, making enough noise to scare off any possible thief. Additionally, Molly can't stand Bloom's way of sleeping: if he jerks his feet, she might lose her teeth; and how can she even break wind with him at the foot of the bed? Bloom is so parsimonious and suspicious that he locks his checkbook away, and Molly has been tempted, on the few occasions when he left the dresser drawer open, to forge his name on a number of checks and cash them.
But it is Bloom's sexual habits that have, most of all, alienated Molly, as they would most people. Once, Bloom asked Molly to walk in horse dung, revealing his revolting perversion for coprophilia. He also begged her once to give him a snippet of her underwear. He has written her dirty letters, and Bloom once proposed that he take naked pictures of her to sell. After the birth of Milly, Bloom asked, since Molly's breasts were still expanded, that he milk her into the tea. Molly feels that the cold feet that Bloom lays on her in bed reflect his cold heart. Molly has truly become over the years a victim of the "loveless Irish marriage," pointed out by Synge, among others, in his In the Shadow of the Glen. Molly, to some extent, resents Bloom's bringing Stephen home (although she fantasizes about Stephen's future existence in the Blooms' house): Perhaps Bloom wants Stephen to make love to her, a point cited by some critics who have detected a hint of homosexuality in Bloom's sometimes obsessive relationship with Stephen.
