If Gifford is correct about the trash baskets, it absolves
Bloom of one venial civic sin: throwing away the paper
"throwaway" in the River Liffey, in Lestrygonians.
Littering can hardly be condemned when a city provides no
receptacles for its citizens to dispose of their trash. (And
indeed the urban Liffey was a sea of floating trash at this
time.) But the word "dustbuckets" does not seem quite right
for a trash basket. Buckets usually hold liquids, and that is
true of nearly all the two dozen or so times that buckets are
mentioned in Ulysses: they hold holy water, wet
sand, beer, cleaning fluids, plaster, internal organs of
butchered animals, mutton broth, street muck. The word dustbin
was commonly used of household trash cans in the 19th century,
and public trash cans in Dublin today are called rubbish bins,
so why does Bloom think of buckets rather than bins?
Calling them "emergency dustbuckets" is even stranger, since
throwing solid waste in trash cans is seldom an emergency. It
seems possible that Joyce, in this chapter of Latinate words, is playing
on the etymological root meaning of the word. Latin mergere
means to immerse, to plunge into liquid, which confirms the
impression that buckets should hold liquids.
Buckets do indeed perform emergency functions of receiving
liquid in the book. In Circe a woman, feet spread
wide apart, "pisses cowily" in the street, prompting a
hallucination in which a "Gaffer" tells a story of a workman
named Cairns who comes down from a scaffold in Beaver Street
and "what was he after doing it into only into the
bucket of porter that was there waiting on the shavings for
Derwan's plasterers." Those listening to the story
laugh loudly, which makes Bloom defensive (even though he is
not Cairns): "Coincidence too. They think it funny. Anything
but that. Broad daylight. Trying to walk. Lucky no woman."
Slightly later in the same chapter, Bloom is questioned in
court about a still greater impropriety involving a bucket: "The
crossexamination proceeds re Bloom and the bucket.
A large bucket. Bloom himself. Bowel trouble. In
Beaver street. Gripe, yes. Quite bad. A plasterer's
bucket. By walking stifflegged. Suffered untold
misery. Deadly agony. About noon. Love or burgundy. Yes,
some spinach. Crucial moment. He did not look in the bucket.
Nobody. Rather a mess." Still later in Circe,
King Edward VII appears holding "a plasterer's bucket on
which is printed Défense d'uriner"
(Urinating Prohibited).
When Bloom thinks of dustbins, he may be subconsciously
recalling the "emergency" functions that an "exposed" bucket
might serve.