Ulysses - a review

What can I say about such a mind-blowing book? I could barely decide how many stars I would give it since it divided my opinion so. No wonder it's so controversial. There were a few chapters I absolutely hated (Scylla and Charbidis anyone?) and I thought I would end up disliking Joyce too for inflicting some of it and being such an arrogant know everything at times. Yet I find myself admiring him a great deal and wanting to re-read the book at some point if only to try and make some more sense of it. The technique astonishes, but I can't give it a glowing review because frankly I didn't like it that much. It grated in parts. Maybe that's why it's so revered though, and why I wanted to read it again, because it challenges in a way that very few other books manage. 

I'd like to read it with some proper guides handy so that I don't have to keep flipping to the end notes. Nevertheless, I've found some good guides online and will miss some of the guides as I carry along my way. No plans to read any more Joyce at the moment, maybe he will get on the next book bucket list.

I also still have to get around to listening to the broadcast at some point, and it will be interesting to compare the two experiences. 

Anyway, it got three stars in the end. I won't be going around boasting I've read it or attending the next Bloom's day, but I am glad to have read it and to have finished it, as I think if I'd given up half-way through I wouldn't have ever read it. Glad to have read it in the version I did as well, the free ebook was apparently broken! Also, it had been edited. I know the text I read was full of a lot of mistakes (it was the 1922 version), but I'd rather that than something that has been edited in too heavy-handed a way.

Finally getting to know Mrs. Marion Bloom

So, the finally chapter of Ulysses. 'Penelope' goes deep inside the feminine consciousness (or stream of consciousness) in a practically unpunctuated free flowing chapter. French feminism talks of gendered language, but I think Joyce has given Molly a proper feminine voice that contrasts wonderfully with the rest of the book and the characters. It is evident that she takes herself less seriously than the men and she is wonderfully unashamed about sex (again, unlike Bloom and Stephen). Again, this is far more obscene than 'Nasusicaa', yet it is not obscene, just honest. A fitting end to a truly epic novel. 

 

At the Bloom residence

Another chapter, another new, interesting narrative technique. It moves nicely on from the previous chapter in the formal tone, in the form of a dialogue or questions and answers, a catechism. I have to say, I don't think I've ever come across this technique used anywhere else.  

It is extremely formal and uses mathematical, technical language; almost impossibly detailed, although sometimes contradictory or even oxymoronic: '...his firm full masculine feminine passive active hand.' (p627, OUP 1998).  Still, Joyce's humour carries on, with the ironic comments about 'light to the gentiles' (p629, ibid), Bloom's declining of an invitation to dinner: 'Very gratefully, with grateful appreciation, with sincere appreciative gratitude, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of regret, he declined.' (p633, ibid), the use of the mock-serious and word-play on the infamous Plumtree's potted meat. The form forces impartiality and lack of emotion about the characters, for example, when Stephen performs a bizarre example of an anti-semitic song, Bloom is described as reacting 'With mixed feelings. Unsmiling...' (p644, ibid).

Bloom and Bloom's house are both depicted with the utmost realism, to the point that the narrator describes in detail the contents of his drawers and bookshelf. 

Leopold Bloom at home. Guessing the film-maker is focusing on his 'womanliness' here (link) 

 

 

 

 Speaking of womanliness and the contents of drawers, we even get to see Bloom's birth certificate and to snigger over his middle name, 'Paula'. If this isn't an obvious way of James Augusta Joyce to point out Bloom's lack of masculinity, I don't know what is. Mind you, he did marry Nora Joseph Barnacle!


We also get to see another view Bloom has of Molly. So far we've mainly seen the adulterous singing wife, but here we get to see Bloom's view of not-very-intelligent Molly who needs Bloom's practical suggestions to assist in her every day life. Bloom does have quite a high opinion of his own common sense, as we've seen in the last chapter, he's not above giving Mr. Big Brains Stephen some unwanted advice about avoiding prostitutes and eating regularly. Bloom also seems to think of Molly as some kind of harlot, once he gets rid of Stephen he goes to bed imagining the legions of men who've slept with her in that same bed; the list including a couple of priests and even Simon Dedalus. I think here we are assume that this is hyperbolic rather than literal. Bloom doesn't blame her for her adultery, as it seems they haven't had sex in over a decade.

I admit, I liked this chapter, in spite of its deliberate anti-literary style that was so different from anything else I read. Completely confusing because these last few chapters seem to have wiped out all my preconceived ideas about the characters, about the book and about Joyce himself. I don't think I will ever be a fan of S&C, but I can see why people re-read the book.     

Ahhhhh....

'Eumaeus'. After all that excitement it's nice to calm down and have a chapter where we're not too heavily experimental. Nevertheless, this is Joyce so there's no way the path ahead is going to be completely straightforward. In this case it's using the third person narrative form in a way that confuses who we're actually referring to and who's consciousness we're invading (as it were). A 'dissolution of boundaries' according to the notes (p945, OUP 1998). 

The chapter is written in formal narrative style, with colloquialisms and old-fashioned language creeping in. Stephen is referred to as Stephen, but Leopold is called 'Mr. Bloom'.  It also uses devices such as the rhetorical question: 'O tell me where is fancy bread?' (p570, ibid), which I thought was quite Homeric. The narrator almost seems like a character in itself - quite pedantic in the sense that it is trying to be correct and somewhat wry at times.

I liked the depiction of Bloom and Stephen's growing 'companionship', for example, the way that Bloom advises him about his use of prostitutes (even though Stephen is rather resistant to Bloom's advice and suggestions). Also, the way that Bloom defends his Jewishness and views on the promotion of equality amongst classes: 'where you can live well...if you work' (p599, ibid). Despite the influence of Weininger, I don't believe that this is an anti-semitic book. Despite all his flaws, Bloom has a kind of dignity about him when he defends himself.

Despite the supposedly easier narrative style, I found the chapter quite tricky to follow at times. Perhaps this was down to when I read it. Also, I think I may have got a bit confused somewhere. What the hell is an ashplant, and why does Stephen enter and leave the brothel carrying one???

*Apparently it's a type of walking stick. I'm half disappointed here, I had visions of him wandering around with a large house plant. Just decorating the brothel!

Not an actual plant. Image link.

'Looks like a drama but doesn't act like one' (Huh?)

Ah, Circe. What an odd chapter. Set in a brothel, it surpasses the supposed obscenity of Bloom masturbating over Gerty's knickers. The characters are like something out of a fairground or circus, everything that has so far gone in the books is turned completely on its head, the characters re-appear, the motifs reappear and even simple things like Bloom's bar of soap reappear, singing (naturally).

Bloom appears in a multitude of different costumes as different figures. Joyce almost seems to be parodying the characters, for example, Bloom appears with two types of offal. The chapter explores deep inside the characters' subconsciousness and contains a multitude of evidently hallucinatory episodes, so we meet not only characters from the story, but also dead characters such as Bloom's parents. 

I can only think that people got so incensed by dirty Gerty they stopped reading and skipped the parts such as the bit where we discover that Molly would like to have sex with the Bhee brothers, 'coloured coons', in fact any man who looks a bit exotic, even some black-and-white minstrel types.

Bloom seems to be on some sort of trial - trying to construct an identity to fit in but also to defend himself against to accusations of Mary Driscoll the maid, Mrs. Yelverton Barry, Mrs. Bellingham and the Honourable Mrs. Mervyn Talboys, who accuse him of crimes including making lewd comments, suggestions, recommending erotic books and sending pornographic pictures. The women seem to enjoy the thrill of being shocked. He is excited by the thought of being spanked, but the punishment escalates and he is sentenced to hanging and compared to Judas. This is followed by his swift elevation to being mayor of Dublin, then 'emperor president and king chairman.' 

He is then accused by Buck of being insane and sexually deviant. This is linked with Weininger's idea of the 'womanly man', a theme that is frequently referred to in this chapter with Bloom's apparent pregnancy, metamorphosis into a woman (along with Bella's into a man). I know that it is rather late as far as when Joyce was writing it, but it made me think of the fin de siecle fears about gender reversal, sexual perversity and the fear of the foreign. The depiction of Bloom and Bella/Bello is rather horrifying instead of the erotic soft-focus porn way that Gerty is portrayed in 'Nausicaa'.  


Stephen has equally unpleasant hallucinations, having an intellectual argument with Lynch's cap then through exploring his feelings about the death of his mother in the form of talking to her corpse, a grotesque rather than angelic figure (named 'The Mother'), who pleads on his behalf for mercy.  

Another part of this chapter I thought would've at least caused concern to the original readers was the way that religion is treated, with Bloom's ascension to being the messiah then subsequently martyred. If this wasn't shocking enough, there is a black mass later on. 


Private Carr swears lustily, Dublin burns at the end of the world and Bloom has to look after Stephen after he embarrasses himself in the brothel. All in all, a good night out I think. 


Overall, I found this chapter really impressive. Long? Complicated? Definitely. Yet I found myself continually admiring Joyce for his fearlessness in experimenting with narrative forms and ignoring societal conventions about what was right an proper in literature. I got caught up in the narrative, particularly towards the end of the chapter with the flight from the brothel. 

We laughed, we cried, we tried not to burn the damn book...

So, I finished the first of my epic quest to read books I've never read. So pleased to have finished Ulysses. 

In the course of looking for images, I've found several girls who seem to have quotations from the book tattooed onto various bits of themselves. Can't say I'll be doing that.

Bravely onto writing about the last few chapters and writing a review, hopefully by the end of the day as I am ready to get on with the next book.   

 

Brain Exercise!

Chapter 14, 'Oxen of the Sun' opens in a maternity hospital with something akin to religious chanting. This was another chapter where it was necessary to refer to copious amounts of notes and often, to re-read passages to attempt to get the 'jist' of what was going on. Here, we begin to see Ulysses as not only an odyssey in the traditional sense, but also as an odyssey through literature itself, beginning with Roman historians of around 80 B.C. Woolf quoted Eliot as saying '...It showed up the futility of all English styles' (Ulysses, p907, OUP 1998). There are nine different episodes corresponding to periods of gestation, but also two other episodes which are like the afterbirth. The periods of gestation move through the different periods of literature which are written in a way that parodies them, but also provides the plot of a group of men visiting a hospital then getting drunk and arguing (which seems to be a frequent theme of the book, I have noticed). 

This is a hard chapter to read, and I admit, not my favourite, even though I did admire Joyce's ability to parody all these different styles and to fit this around the plot and the characters, who became constantly shifting heroes from different periods of literature. I think the problem that I had here was the sense that this was a book written by a man for men, that this group of men standing around getting very drunk talking about women in a rather callous way - the inevitable whores n' sluts, their oh-so-intellectual discussion about the Catholic theory of saving the child rather than the woman, Stephen's great list of women being impregnated by 'fabulous' means and Buck's great idea about hiring himself out as a stud left me rather cold. I don't think of myself as being some sort of radical feminist (although I am also trying to to be a feminist apologist here), but I got a bit annoyed with Joyce's odyssey through the literature of male authors as well. Perhaps it was down to the mood I was in when I read it.

I found myself wondering what Woolf made of it, I know that there are reports that she felt rather ambivalent to say the least. According to a Yale article I'm reading, it looks as if she admired the stylistic innovations, but didn't enjoy reading the book, preferring Proust. I am glad to read Woolf's rather amusing disparaging comments about it, however, I can't say that this article has illuminated the feminism question for me; it seems that she was more concerned with indecency and her idea of Joyce as a pimply-faced bootboy!

Ito has analysed anti-semitism and anti-feminism in Giacomo Joyce, another work by Joyce. Ito describes how Joyce was inspired to write Ulysses by Otto Weininger who was somewhat of a anti-semitic anti-feminist. Ito considers Giacomo Joyce to have underlying elements of this, but he considered that the inspiration Joyce had for Ulysses was merely the ideas of the 'self-hating Jew' and the 'Jew as a womanly man'.

I think that I am going to give Ulysses the benefit of the doubt at the moment, but return to the question at a later date. 

Other than the grand tour through literature, Bloom and Stephen meet for the first time and Bloom is somewhat impressed by him. Stephen retains his flippancy about religion, veering towards blasphemy by parodying Jesus at the last supper. There are plays on words with fertility/futility and ideas about childbirth and creation, with Stephen comparing childbirth to posterity gained through writing, or 'postcreation' as he calls it. Joyce refers back to his source material in the anecdote about the bull of Ireland, a marvellous worshiped bull, and Mulligan's idea of giving something back to humanity by living on a island offering his stud service to woman who want children. 

Overall, if I ignored the vague sense of annoyance I felt reading it, this was a very clever chapter, and I'm sure other people enjoy it. I am ready to finish it, however. I know that the next episode is massive, but I want to push forward as much as I can to get the finishing line.

A Romantic Interlude...

Amazingly, another readable chapter of Ulysses. Okay, so it's readable because Joyce is writing a parody of certain types of sentimental romance, but it's still nice to move a little away from something that requires the utmost concentration. I think it's also the bit of The Odyssey I remember the most (aside from the Cyclops incident). 


The episode opens with an idyllic seaside excursion and our very own Nausicaa, Gerty MacDowell. I wondered if Gerty was another Hamlet reference. The episode parodies The Lamplighter, by an American author called Maria Susanna Cummings. The novel's heroine, Gerty, has to overcome adversity using her own inner resources to ultimately find happiness. I suppose you could call it a feminist novel as it was intended to instruct as well as entertain young women on becoming self-reliant (although not in a shunning men kind of a way presumably).

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Rather than use first person narrative or the ol' stream-of-consciousness malarkey, Joyce uses the third person, so Gerty doesn't really get a 'voice' as such, however, the narrative style suits her perfectly; a mixture of romantic fiction and women's magazines. It's a beautiful description, almost tender, yet at the same time reminding us of Gerty's frailties. Some of the lurid prose reminded me somewhat of Lady Chatterly's Lover, but not in a bad way, although I think perhaps Lawrence wouldn't have found that a compliment!  

Gerty spots Bloom on the beach and reacts to him in a completely different way to the other characters' disdain and downright antipathy toward him. She thinks that he looks like a film star in morning and perhaps fancies him because he looks different. She doesn't consider his Jewishness which is obvious to the other people bloom has encountered so far. Gerty sees herself as some sort of combination of the traditional Catholic ideas of the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene; innocent, motherly and a temptress all at the same time. Sex mingling with religion. This is further complicated with blood as Gerty feels her period starting. 

The 'shocking' bit was tame by today's standards, but I suppose I can see why it might be considered obscene by the standards of the day, where masturbation was considered at the very least to be something to be discouraged. I guess there is also everything that this chapter represents - an older man spying on a younger woman (who is showing off her legs to him) and becoming sexually aroused accompanied to the sounds of fireworks going off. I suppose that at the time the fireworks were a bit more of a nice touch rather than the romantic fiction then parody film cliche they've become. 

Anyway, Bloom finishes off, having almost been discovered in the act by Cissy asking him the time, then Gerty limps off, leaving Bloom to discover her lameness, much to his surprise. I did love the way that Bloom's final image of her was as someone imperfect that he felt sorry for, somehow it made her much more real as a character. After Gerty's flowery third person musings on love it's an abrupt shock to return to Bloom's matter-of-fact, darting stream-of-consciousness.

As for Gerty as a female character in a book populated by men? I suppose you could see her a cliche for her idea of herself as the virgin/whore, and disparage Joyce both for his parody of books that are popular to women and his portrayal of Gerty as being rather self-obsessed, but I have to say I was fine with his portrayal and thought it fitted in well with the Nausicaa of The Odyssey. I also liked the humour of the episode, with Gerty's delight about her underwear, I think we are meant to view her as being a little bit young and silly rather than representing all women.  

Ito Returns with an Essay on the Cyclops Episode

Another excellent essay, this time on Naoki Yanase's theory that the nameless narrator is a dog. Yanase translated Finnegan's Wake and wrote Solving an Enigma of James Joyce. Ito analyses different drafts of Ulysses and Joyce's list of characters, coming up with Leary the Dog (who is not Garryowen). Ito is cautious about assuming that this is proof of the theory. He provides an interesting background about the identity of the mysterious Citizen - Michael Cusack, a 'Gaelic athletic enthusiast'. Ito concludes by asking if we really need to know the identity of the narrator anyway? Good theory, but I'm with Ito on this one.

Poor Willy Dignam and the Dog

Finally, an episode I enjoyed. 'Cyclops' is set in a pub, and is 'narrated' by an unnamed person. I say 'narrated' as, according to the notes, it's not as straightfoward as that (as usual), apparenlty it is meant to be written down. I noticed as I started reading it that the tense had changed from the previous episodes, this time it was in past tense rather than present tense, as if it was told by someone telling a long, rambling and utterly pointless annecdote about an evening in the pub with a group of random people. Even though I found quite a lot of the colloquial language somewhat impenetrable, with plenty of cryptic references to contemporary events and people, I did enjoy the humour of the episode, for example, Bod Doran calling Christ 'a ruffian' and Alf's "Don't cast your nasturtiums on my character".


 I was also amused and simultanously dazzled by the thirty three parodies of a variety of different styles of writing such as court proceedings, Irish myths and legends and even a newspaper report about dogs reciting poetry. The parodic interludes serve a variety of functions including linking devices to the next part of the narrative, or sometimes as part of the narrative itself. Often, they provide a strong contrast between quite hyperbolic, formal language written in a highly stylised way and the colloquial quick patter and wordplay of the 'narrator' and the other people in the pub. If the action in the pub is getting too serious, the parody will again make an appearence adding humour to the situation with interludes such as Paddy Dignam's seance (written in a Theosophic style) after someone mistakingly thinks they've seen Paddy, and the society event attended by a group of trees when 'the citizen' starts spouting off about the English. 

Some elements of the parody reminded me of a parody of the Homeric style, which inevitably made me think of Pope's The Rape of the Lock. It is not clear if the narrator is supposed to be inserting these passages, I think instead that this is Joyce playing with the reader and the narrator himself. The blend of the comic and the serious in the chapter has come to be called 'jocoserious'.  

I can see why this is the cyclops episode. As well as the polymorphic voices in the pub, with their continual gossiping about different people, there is also the one-eyed one-sided views of the Citizen, an anti-semitic Fenian. 

Again, this chapter engages with the view other characters have of Bloom. Aside from the Citizen's obvious distaste for Bloom, the narrator himself finds Bloom annoying at the very least. Bloom alienates himself not only through his Jewishness but also through appearing too opinionated  and too mean to buy drinks to the men in the pub. Nevetheless, the Catholics hardly get off lightly either, with Joyce satirising the hypocrisy of the attitude to Bloom and the annecdote about the man having sex with a prostitute then apppearing with his wife at Mass the next morning. Though this is a humorous interlude, there is still an undercurrent of unplesantness with the way that Bloom is treated; the contrast of the opinions toward Irish persecution and the persecution of the Jews.  

Taken from The Irish Studies Association of Australia and New Zealand site.

Bloom leaves having defended himself but antagonised the Citizen to the extent that he tries to throw a biscuit box at him. All is not lost, however, as he ascends to heaven like Elijah in a chariot in the final parody of the chapter.

On to the next chapter, Nausicaa, or Joyce has a brush with obsenity.

Back to Ulysses

With an overview of two chapters this post. I know I have been neglecting it of late, so I am going to try and make up for it. Excitingly, I have one more chapter to go before I'm halfway. Can't wait to start Infinite Jest. 

So, on to 'Wandering Rocks', an episode that is not included in The Odyessy (the sailors manage to avoid it). I admit I quite enjoyed this chapter, particularly after the storm and tempest of the previous chapter. The short episodes featuring each character gave a good sense of the hustle and bustle of the Dublin Streets, including the landscape of the time, and it is an interesting little view into the thoughts of various characters in the book. 

 
Above, is an awesome graphic from Literature Geek showing the various interactions between the characters, using a program called Gephi. Alas, some of the ICT 'nuts and bolts' went over my head, but I think it's fabulous mixing literature with ICT and and teaching. Unfortunately, when I was in university I could barely switch a PC on and I remember going to the ICT room in my halls of residence to go on the Internet for the first time!  


I did like the way that Joyce interlinked the characters with the interpolations, some of which were 'true' and some 'false'. Although the characters were often blind to the way that they were connected, the reader could see how they fitted together like a sort of textual jigsaw. 

I didn't use the notes as much, I felt as if I just wanted to immerse myself in the atmosphere and not worry about missing information. Looking forward to listening to it, as I think that will help it make even more sense. 


'Sirens' took me a while to finish, I couldn't read it in one sitting and I had to start it again when I got a couple of pages in, this was due to the prologue which is basically a list of sounds (of the pub where the chapter is set) which we then get to discover what or who is making the sound. The chapter centers around music in that Simon (Stephen's father) plays the piano in the pub, but it is also written in a very musical way. Onomatopoeia abounds, as does alliteration and poetic sentences made up of a particular number of syllables, for example, the 13 syllabled "Bald Pat, bothered water, waited for drink orders." or "...hot tea, a sip, sipped sweet tea." The word play in the chapter is impressive, with the way that Joyce blends verbs with nouns, "In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatos". All respect to Ito, in no way to be patronising, but I can't imagine the difficulties of reading this book if English is your second language. The thought of translating it makes me feel slightly quesy. 


I notice that Bloom is harsly a popular character. The barmaids cruelly laugh at him and  refer to him as greaseabloom. I'm not sure whether or not this could apply, but I thought of Said's postcolonial theory of 'the other'. Although Joyce does not seem to portray Bloom in that way through his inner thoughts (and I am reluctant to label him as anti-semitic,), its as if the chracters see Bloom as being alien, and I suppose to some extent Joyce does as well - after all, why does he go into the church if Joyce is not highlighting his differences? He is more sexual than the other characters we've seen (although I thought of Stephen as being a narcissist and obssesed with his career to the extent that he wouldn't be into having any relationships), more concerned with bodily functions and eats differently as well, the kidneys for breakfasy and liver for lunch. Whereas Stephen can be thought of as being all about the brain, Bloom is very much about the body. I was interested to read this article, 'A Jew Reads Joyce'. The author comes to the conclusion that Bloom is not portrayed in an anti-semitic way, he is just realistic and other characters react to him anti-semitically. 

Bloom from Ulysses Seen , a webcomic of Ulysses

Another cleverly written chapter, I just get the feeling that it's all too much. He's used so many techniques in one book, no wonder it had such an impact. Next up, 'Cyclops'.

Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard Place...

At last, someone who understands!

From another foolish blogger who thought reading this book was a good idea!
 
Finally finished episode 9. Not only have I had trouble reading it, I have had trouble motivating myself to write about it. Not my favourite chapter at all, especially with the amount of referring to notes at the back needed. Joyce indulges his intellectual snobbishness with overblown language, lashings of literary theory, heaped servings of Shakepeare and makes the chapter feel as if you are trying to swim or sail through a storm. Not very easy to navigate, or to tell what's actually going on. I think that hearing it rather than reading it may help, or reading it at a less busy time.


Again, I think I am obsessing too much over the author's intentions here, as if I read Stephen's ravings as Joyce he comes across as being anti-semitic, homophobic and a mysogynist. However, I think I will need to give him the benefit of the doubt by reading the Bloom sections. I think this is more about Stephen 'showing off' and Joyce satirising the literary scene of the time and Stephen himself. Much of the chapter concerns Shakespeare's life story and the way different biographers have interpreted it. 

All this talk of Shakepspeare inevitably leads another of the book's motifs (if you can call it that), the story of Hamlet. Out of all the things I missed, I did pick up on the way that Stephen is supposed to represent Hamlet with his thoeries about paternity and the irrelevance of fatherhood. 

Anyway, I thought I would write more about it, but at the moment, I think I'm done with this episode. Hopefully, the next one will be a bit easier! 

In search of lost plots...

I admit, I'm finding it quite hard to keep up the reading at the moment, guess life is intruding, especially now it's the end of the academic year, which is always a bit fraught. It wasn't that bad getting into it, but I am missing the plot part of it and I am only about a quarter way through (it seems). Not a book that can be picked up and put down at will either. I have been finishing off Rivals and am nearly done with the Stephen King doorstop too, I just have to focus more on the Ulysses. 

Another Bloom Chapter, the Laestrygonians (or Lestrygonians). We are walking through the maze with no guide here, my friends. Ito is not accompanying us this time, although I have found articles by him and on him, including one from Times Higher Education. I am charmed by the description, but must move on from minor crushes on critics.

Many pencil notes popping up in this chapter. I am struck by the imagery: food imagery mingling with birth, sex, death and decay. It is quite a visceral chapter, opening with the innocent children's sweets mingling with the religious 'Blood of the Lamb' then moving straight into more violent religious imagery. 

Politics plays a heavy part with frequent references, this can be quite difficult, sort of like watching Irish Victorian Mock the Week, as Mr. OQ described it. Footnotes are not really that helpful as they gloss over important points, so it can be helpful to read around it. That, or accept that it's going to require far more research than you want to do. I'm going with a mixture of the two approaches here. The Yale article is sufficiently illuminating if we can't have Ito. I have found an interesting image from an odd website called liberateUlysses, the purpose of which is to celebrate Bloomsday 2012. Surprised I haven't found it before. The image was created in 2004 by students at the National College of Art and Design in Dublin.
 
 Odysseus and his men meet cannibals, who feed in frenzied greed, much as Bloom meets the disgusting individuals stuffing their faces in the Burton's restaurant. He expresses concern for the large Catholic families who live in poverty and take more than their fair share of resources; comparing their religious customs and perceived greed to the Jewish practice of fasting. Bloom's outsider's perspective allows Joyce to potentially comment. Bloom continues to reveal episides from his past, in this case musing on his relationship with Molly and what happened to them after the death of Rudy.

As previously, images and slogans from advertisments play a part in the narrative, but in this case Bloom reacts more to them, criticising the stuipidity of Plumtree's potted meat. 

Anyway, onto Scylla and Charybdis. Quite an enjoyable part of The Odyssey, although I have never worked out how to pronounce the second one. Reminds me of wine. I'll have a nice glass of Charybdis, please.  

Aeolus - In the Newspaper Offices

This was not my favourite chapter, and in fact, took two goes and a night off reading (I got about halfway through, but really wasn't in the mood so decided to put it down and go back to it). 
I guess I felt on the first reading that I was missing things with the newspaper headlines and the magic rhetorical techniques, which I admit to knowing very little about. This seems to be a quite inaccessible chapter which would benefit from a study guide. I found myself bewildered as to what was actually happening (although this may be due to my current mood), so ended up focussing more of the depiction of the newspaper office and the multiple references to wind in the chaper.







Taken from an American site. 
Reading around the chapter, it looks as if some of the chapter headings aim to confuse as a technique (as if the book doesn't confuse and bewilder enough). I guess I can see here why people dislke it or find it hard to read, but I'm determined to finish it. Some of the headlines add to the chapter, summaring the sections or adding irony, for example, 'unfeigned regret' I thought was quite ironic in tone, some headlines are misleading or don't make a lot of sense to me. The chapter is also full with plays on words, riddles and lymericks. Thankfully, the wonderful Ito has written another article, which has cleared a few things up. He doesn't get to bogged-down in the rhetorical side of things, but again links the writing with the history behind it. I was going to try and look at the rhetric, but on further reflection, I think I'd actually rather spend the time actually reading the book, so I am going to move swiftly on.  

A Visit to Glasnevin Cemetery

Taken from Explow website.
(Originally from www.jochenhertweck.com, but watch out for this site as I had a security warning pop up).

Chapter  6 takes place in Hades/Glasnevin Cemetery Dublin, where we learn more about Bloom's character and background. It carries on nicely from Bloom's visit to the church in the previous chapter as he continues to observe the world around him. Bloom is forced to endure an uncomfortable carriage ride with a group of men who are preparing to attend the internment of a person they knew, but were not really that close to. The carriage ride is evidently meant to represent the boat trip to Hades, allowing the occupants to tell some blackly humourous stories and for them to unwittingly disturb Bloom with their attitude to suicide. He makes some mental observations about people's ghoulish curiosity about death, in particular violent death and remembers both his son's death and  his father's suicide, dwelling on the decay of the body and Catholic funeral customs.  

In both this chapter and the next Joyce uses fresh narrative techniques, in this one a technique he referred to as incubism. This could be a lovley excuse for some dry ramblings, but alas, I am no cultural phenomenologist, just a former English grad with a desmond, so I liked this article better. Eishiro Ito gives a great background, and I particularly liked the way the article analysed the different drafts to show how Joyce intensified and darkened the chapter. Much easier to read than the other article!

 

The Lotus Eaters/Ulysses as a Comic Novel

I haven't done my required reading for the day as yet, but I did manage to read 'The Lotus Eaters' (chapter 5) last night. I enjoyed this chapter and I think it helped me to start to see the connection with the source material without resorting to the many guides method. I have succumed to note-taking within the book though, and I did have to read over the part in the church a few time, as I kept feeling as if I'd missed something.

I was amused by the advertsing slogan:

What is home without
Plumtree's potted meat?
Incomplete
With it an abode of bliss.

Ironic, because of the use of the rhetorical device and the highly poetic hyperbolic language.
 

(Taken from the St. Andrew's Parish Church website where this chapter was set. Note the lack of mention of the novel if you go on the website)

The part in the church confused me a little because I think I was looking for some sort of 'message' that Joyce had hidden in there. However, that way lies getting bogged down I think. I can't look there for Joyce's attitude to religion, what we're looking at is the way that Bloom is observing the Catholic religion as an outsider, and the way that Joyce is using the Church to fit in with the idea of the Lotus Eaters - in this case the church-goers who are sporific from the Latin and receiving the sacrament. There is an air of hypocrisy (on the part of the church-goers) prevading parts of it, for example, Bloom/Joyce describes a woman going to confession: 'Repentance skindeep. Lovely shame' and the listing of various aspects of religion makes it seem inconsequential somehow. There are also hints about church and state being rather too intertwined. 

The little advertising slogan was the first hint, but listening to the first part of the radio broadcast opened my eyes (pun intended). The way that the book is revered and feared makes you forget that it is meant to be a comic novel, not just a weighty tone for masochists! I think listening to it makes it far more accessible, as it is easier to tell between what is dialogue and what is stream-of-consciousness. I have also heard of editions that have been reformatted to make it easy to read. Anyway, I am certainly going to listen to the rest of the Radio 4 broadcast. I'm not expecting the rest of the book to be laugh-a-minute, but it has been a pleasant surprise. 

Suppose I should get back to reading it now. Next part - the funeral (Hades).

Notes on Notes

I managed to read the first three chapters of Ulysses last night and a forth chapter this morning. I had time last night to carry on reading, but felt satisfied after the three chapters I read. When I began, I was using the notes at the back a great deal, particularly with the third chapter (Proteus); however, I found that the notes sometimes interrupted the flow. Sometimes I want to know what it means, other times I just want to enjoy the ebb and flow of the language. At the moment, I am looking up a point if I need to, but I leave the chapter summaries until the end and don’t worry unduly if I don’t really ‘get’ it. I don’t think I’m supposed to, especially on the first reading. All those bloomin’ charts on who is supposed to be whom and the colours and organs and motifs for each chapter/episode? Too off-putting for a first reading. 

My response? I am half dazzled by the magnificent lyricism of the writing, half convinced of its insufferable pretention. I found the third chapter hard as some of the internet reviews warned, but I am not tempted to line up the study guides yet, and the fourth chapter (Calypso) thankfully normal service resumed. I can see how Joyce has influenced other writers, not just of the period but later as well (Infinite Jest springs to mind). It is a stunning use of stream-of-consciousness/interior monologue technique in the way that Joyce’s characters have distinct ‘voices’. 

Studying Classics and R.E at school and Classics modules at University has helped, having little knowledge of Irish history and politics has hindered. Nevertheless, I am pushing on. Glad that I never studied the book in University as I can see that it is not a book to be forced; you have to want to read it, and probably to re-read it time and time again to be able to fully explore the multitude of references.

Internet research has been fruitful and varied. Glad that there are people out there fence-sitting, I am intimidated by the rabid intellectuals screaming that it is the best book in the English language, and by the equally fervent haters who can’t understand why anyone would like it. I’d rather stay out of either camp, and I am particularly not reading it so that I can boast about the experience. Perhaps I am just one of those people out there who enjoy the masochistic thrill of the whole thing. I am bemused by the anecdotes of people treating it like some sort of Bible, making pilgrimages to Ireland.

The text is undoubtedly error-riddled, but I’m glad that I’m reading this particular edition as it is a facsimile of the original edition. It gives the experience of reading it as it was, minus the modern typefaces and corrections. 

I've taken this image from an article on Bibioklept 'How to Read James Joyce's Ulysses (and why you should avoid how to guides like this one)'. 

A helpful, enthusiastic yet not too deferential atricle. I like Blah Blah Bloomsday too (from the same site), good links and pictures.

The First Book

I've been thinking about whether to go easy or hard, or on what basis I chose when to read each book. Anyway, I've decided to set myself a challenge to start with. As there is a new BBC Radio 4 production of this text that aired yesterday, I thought I'd give it a go. Here's the link: Radio 4 Production of Ulysses
I haven't listened to the radio broadcast, but will consider it, although I would like to start reading it first. 
I've attempted Ulysses in the past but not got very far. The last time I tried it, it was a library book, which probably didn't help. Anyway, I have a charity shop copy I bought a while back but can't remember attempting. I also have the free downloaded version on the Kindle, but I've chosen to read a physical copy as this is a specific version of the text and knowing that this book has a reputation for being dense and difficult, I thought I'd be better off with a few footnotes to guide me on my way. 
The book is an OUP (World's Classics) version of the 1922 text published in 1998 edited by Jeri Johnson. The 1922 edition is supposed to be closest to the original text. This can be important, I know from reading D.H Lawrence's Lady Chatterly novels. Lawrence published several editions of the story which are quite different in tone to each other. 

The cover image is interesting, here is a small copy of it, which I have taken from The Tate Gallery Website. 
The name is The Transmogrifications of Bloom by Richard Hamilton (1984-5). Although I haven't found out much about it so far, I suspect that it may have been comissioned for a copy of the book or certainly heavily influenced by it. 
So far, I don't know that much about the book either, only that it is Modernist, set over a day in 1904 and that Joyce was unable to publish in England due to supposed obscenity. I haven't studied any Joyce before either. 
Anyway, I suppose I should start reading it!