Space: what damn well have to see. Clearly Ulysses, the modern city novel par excellence, is multifaceted exploration of space; as Stephen thinks near the beginning of Scylla and Charybdis, one has to space. But who is this you and what are the spatial arrangements being observed, and further, in what way(s) is the cityscape perceived and composed in Joyce's text? When these questions are posed in terms of the relationship between gender and urban representation in it, we can see how Joyce's en-gendering of Dublin often replicates social relationships based on law and paternity. Feminist critiques of help to illuminate such process as well as its ramifications in this novel. The city in/of Ulysses corresponds, for instance, to Claudine Herrmann's description of man's space: a of domination, hierarchy and conquest, sprawling, showy space, full space (169). Joyce's Dublin is encoded and enclosed, full of bodies, voices, texts composing massive sprawl and display over which the narrative exerts control, despite the seemingly labyridthine complexity. Moreover, the city can be seen as initially gendered only to be filled in and thus conquered, to become of male power. In the process, women -- particularly the three women closest to Stephen and Bloom -- are excluded from active participation in urban life. Mrs. Dedalus (though she haunts Stephen) is dead and buried, Milly missed but absent, and Molly housebound and recumbent (almost incarcerated) throughout the day.(1) Other female characters serve as objects of the male gaze, as reflections of male desire, as means for male begetting of male heirs. Yet Joyce also suggests that exclusion of the feminine -- or mastery of it -- may deaden and falsify all human experience. This reduction can create images of wasteland or paralytic body, lacking female -- in Julia Kristeva's terms purely symbolic realm devoid of the semiotic and the maternal, and thus of creativity or life itself.(2) As men appropriate space, including the female domain of the maternity hospital, we see their various responses: the cemetery is womb/tomb from which Bloom hastens to exit; hot air and circuitous theorizing fill the newspaper office and library; the strand is empty on which both Stephen and Bloom attempt to impose their signatures. To what extent does Joyce's text recognize that to render is to annihilate, that the feminine is not only subversive but necessary as counter to the urge to fill in and dominate the urban landscape? Does Ulysses incorporate the feminine or does Joyce's vision remain predominantly rendering of the modern city? To frame central questions in such terms is not necessarily to rely on essentialist notions that might reduce gender to simple binarisms; rather, this discussion addresses received notions of and traditional types ingrained in and sustained by the culture out of which (and against which) Joyce himself was writing. In discussion of essentialism and its traps, Judith Butler argues convincingly that both sex and gender are culturally constructed within existing power relations (30), and that woman itself is term in process, becoming, constructing that cannot rightfully be said to originate or to end. As an ongoing discursive practice, it is open to intervention and resignification (33).(3) As I will suggest, feminist reading of Joyce's text can illuminate its potential to inspire such intervention; my aim in this study is not to analyze monolithic masculine or feminine, but to demonstrate how Ulysses re-presents recurring gender dichotomies as they emerge in spatial configurations, and to explore whether the text also writes against those divisions. That is, if the discourses of Ulysses seem overwhelmingly patriarchal, to what extent can we read countertextually? If the text observes traditional categories of and does it also implicitly critique and subvert these gender constructions? …