I was startled this morning by the following in my Facebook feed from friend Monica.
And I thought, “Oh, crap.”
Because, you see, I’ve been trying to get through Ulysses this year in time for Bloomsday. It’s not like I wasn’t warned it was impossible. I remembered Marinka’s attempts to get through it and, though she struggled valiantly, finishing the world’s best novel wasn’t in her cards.
The problem, though, was that I am part of an online bookclub that votes monthly which book should be read, and I picked Ulysses and now it’s being read. By everyone in the bookclub except for me.
The problem is cheapness.
Reading the book is nearly impossible unless you have a guide to explain what the hell James Joyce was inhaling when he wrote each page, such as this one, which is highly recommended. Unfortunately, that costs $30, or approximately $100, inflated for Jewishness. Add that to the price of the book (there’s no way two weeks from the library will be enough for me to read it, and I can’t read books online because I’m afraid my irises will melt), and that adds up to a hefty price for a book that purports to be about a Jew. The editors are clearly not pricing to their target audience.
Anyway, so it’s Bloomsday yet again and while all the Irish and the people that actually have read Ulysses, including the diligent members of my book club, are in pubs doing whatever it is that people in pubs do which I don’t know because I haven’t read the book, I am cursing yet another Bloomsday. Thanks for reminding me, Mon.
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Thank you for reminding me of my failure and alerting the world about it.
off to crochet my noose.
Holy shit, this is today?
I still remember my sad attempts at reading this monstrosity, like, 3 years ago. Let me tell you – a Hebrew translation does nothing to help the readability. I think I’m on page 50.
Also, Here’s a free pictorial guide. Just press the arrows. http://www.dannydries.com/Ullyses/ch1-ulys.html
You know there are celebratory races, too. Your favorite things: James Joyce’s insanity plus running.
It’s been particularly exciting to go through “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” squeaking when I realize “I’ve been there!” for a bunch of places. Naturally, protagonist Stephen Dedalus goes off on that whole thereisnopunctuationororganizationtomythoughts, preparing me for “Ulysses.” And I’ll do it (with a guide)… And I’ll sing and weep and drink, like a good half-Irish girl.
meh, just read the wikipedia summary.
Besides, Bloom is a “BAD” Jew. Does that help?
Yeah, that’s pretty ambitious. I usually just have a pint of Guinness! (for strength.)
Tzipporah and Sophie-I took your advice. I read the Wikipedia summary and watched the extremely helpful cartoon. All I can say after reading both is, WTF?
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