Book Review: Ulysses

"It has been an unusually fatiguing day, a chapter of accidents"

                                                                                            --Leopold Bloom

Book Details:

Paperback: 1040 pages

Publisher: Penguin Classics (March 30, 2000)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0141182806

Review:

I have actually been dreading writing this review.  Trying to review a book that provokes such extreme and diverse opinions in thousands, if not millions, of people is a daunting task at best.  Especially since my opinion is a casual one at best.  That said, I'll give it my best shot.

The basic plot of Ulysses is exactly that: basic.  It primarily follows Leopold Bloom throughout the course of his waking hours on June 16, 1904.  We first see him before breakfast, and we last see him as he crawls into bed in the wee hours of the next morning.  While he runs errands, attends a funeral, attempts to work, frequents a few bars and a brothel, and walks home, we are subject to his thoughts, imaginings, and hallucinations.  If that seems like a fairly boring plot, I can attest to the fact that it is.

In addition to Bloom's travels, we encounter Stephen Dedalus several times.  In fact, Bloom's day is bookended by Stephen's own wandering.  I recall him fondly from high school literature class, but I will reserve most of my discussion of Stephen Dedalus for my review of Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

To my mind, Bloom is a fairly average man.  He spends a lot of time seemingly unaware of what is going on around him, and he is not particularly popular or successful at work.  His wife seems unfaithful at best, an unattractive hypochondriac at worst.  Bloom also appears to imagine or hallucinate when conversation is lacking or unstimulating.  Rather than actually participating in dialogue with friends, he appears to assume their response.  He is also lecherous from the first, trying to catch glimpses of stocking in the opening chapters and experiencing a hallucinatory visit to a brothel toward the end. 

What really struck me about Ulysses, though, was the sheer wordplay and brilliance of construction.  Each chapter, or section, is written in a different style, ranging from newspaper headlines to archaic Anglo-Saxon language to Socratic dialogue.  I am simply in awe that one man could execute the diverse structure of the novel so well.

And as I said, the wordplay is phenomenal.  True to form, Joyce uses neologisms throughout Ulysses with great success.  For instance, in the "Wandering Rocks" section, he mentions a gentleman struggling with a "stickumbrelladustcoat."   Reading that word instantly conjured a vivid picture of the man in question and how he was carrying his accessories.  There are passages such as the following that I just found amusing:

            What suddenly arrested his ingress?
The right temporal lobe of the hollow sphere of his cranium came into contact with a solid timber angle where, an infintesimal but sensible fraction of a second later, a painful sensation was located in consequence of antecendent sensations transmitted and registered.

Obviously, it would be tiring to read hundreds of pages in that raw, scientific style, but I thought it was a fantastic way to say that he bumped his head.  There are hundreds of other examples of Joyce's linguistic play, but since that was my primary joy in reading the novel, I won't spoil them all here.  (Not to mention the fact that I have better things to do!)

As far as the charges of indecency go, there are certainly sections of the novel that are downright pornographic.  In fact, there were parts that were very difficult for me to read, given their graphic nature.  The sections, as in "The Oxen and the Sun," where the men are sitting around being lewd did not particularly disturb me.  Neither did a lot of the graphic descriptions of bodily functions.  However, "Circe" was a tough chapter as I could not discern which sexual acts were actually happening, which were Bloom's fantasies, and which were his nightmares.  It was all jumbled together, and, as I say, downright pornographic.  Also, there is a section where a young girl exposes herself to Bloom as he masturbates that I found disturbing.  I suppose, though, I'll have to get over that issue soon since Nabokov's Lolita is just a few books away.

Summary:
Was this a good read?
That depends on what is important to you.  As a novel, it was not particularly great.  Average, but not great.  As a work of art, as a manuscript, it was phenomenal.  While the story was primarily boring, the linguistic talent used to write it is, to me, mindblowing.

Would I recommend it?
Certainly, with reservations.  If someone is a lover of literature and wordplay, particularly modernism, this is an amazing must-read.  If someone is looking for a quick, entertaining read, look elsewhere.  I do think that everyone who considers themselves a language lover should read this one, but I definitely do not think all of those people will love it.  There is simply not enough plot.

Would I read it again?
Absolutely!  I am going to be working on a side project, researching some of the issues and criticism surrounding Ulysses in the spare time I have between reading, blogging, crafting, and raising children.  Well, a girl can dream, right?

Book Beginnings on Friday

Because one post a day is apparently not enough, I figured I would contribute to this meme.

Book Beginnings on Friday is a meme hosted by Becky at Page Turners. Anyone can participate; just share the opening sentence of your current read, making sure that you include the title and author so others know what you're reading.

My selection comes from Ulysses by James Joyce, of course!

"Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed."

Ulysses: Who is Leopold Bloom?

At long last I have found a way to make it through Ulysses without feeling too incredibly lost.  Also, this method manages to keep me from unintentionally dozing during the slow, dull parts.  So what is my new magic trick?  Well, I grabbed a pen and a journal, and I have started taking notes as I read.  When I have a question, read one of the many good puns, or something just strikes my fancy, I'm jotting it down.  Hopefully, this new method (which I should have thought about during my college days) will enable me to finish Ulysses in the next week.  I'm ready to move on.

That said, one question that is fascinating me is the identity of Leopold Bloom.  He is ridiculed by so many characters.  He is always lurking unobtrusively in the background somewhere.  Apparently, one of those people you don't really notice, unless they have a moment of epic awkwardness. 

There are, however, indications that he might be a little more complex than my initial impression.  In the  Wandering Rocks several of the characters discuss him, saying that there is "a bit of the artist about old Bloom" and, "I'll say there is much kindness in the Jew." 

The last quotation is, in fact, a quote from Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice , and I have been wondering about comparing Shylock to Bloom.  Seems like that would make for interesting reading, so I suppose I can find an article somewhere online along those lines.

Anyway, my goal is to finish this book up this week so that I can move on to Fitzgerald next week!

Ulysses: The Good and the Bad, so far.

Well, I am continuing to slog through Ulysses as we speak.  I am only a little over a third of the way through, but I am finding certain aspects of the book insanely boring.  On the other hand, there are elements that I find brilliant, and poor Nathan has to deal with my random Joyce quotations or theories on a nightly basis.

My primary challenge, it seems, is that I was going to ignore a lot of the scholarship when reading this list.  After all, I don't have time to read the entire list and all of the associated criticism.  Ulysses alone would consume my life.  Already, I am tempted to start research onto some of the multitude of themes, issues, and ideas in the novel.

There is a lot of discussion about Irish Home Rule, with major players appearing, theories espoused, and speeches quoted.  Although I know next to nothing about the issue, this is one of the most fascinating aspects of the book, and I am thoroughly tempted to venture beyond Wiki research into detailed, authenticated discussion of Ireland at the turn of the previous century.

The last episode I read, too, was a challenge because it had me reaching for the Shakespeare anthology and absolutely dying for comrades to discuss the mystery surrounding Shakespeare's identity, Anne Hathaway, and such.  It is the "Scylla and Charybdis" episode, and it takes place inside the National Library.  Stephan Dedalus is expounding upon an essay he has written regarding the Bard, and I was riveted. 

Which brings me to my primary issue with Ulysses.  As a novel, it is somewhat less than fulfilling.  As a work of social commentary and literary criticism, it is invaluable.  The puns and allusions are fantastic.  The turn of phrase is brilliant.  The stream of consciousness is skillfully executed.  But the plot is duller than anything I've read in a long time.

Leopold Bloom is, thus far, a boring loser.  And that is putting it politely.  It appears he is lousy at his job, his boss, co-workers, and supposed friends tend to ignore him, and, from all appearances, his wife is having an affair.  Having to read a day's worth of his thoughts is torture.  I suppose we're all like this, but, boy, does it make for a lame read.  If you're reading a novel primarily for plot, this is not the work for you!

That said, I am planning to finish Ulysses soon.  I need to put down some of the crafts and pick up the novel.  Hopefully, Bloom will not continue to disappoint.

Ulysses: What's the Fuss?

When I decided to read the 100 Best Novels, I simultaneously decided to start at the top of the list and work my way down.  Initially, I was going to read both the Editors' and Readers' lists simultaneously, but I have changed my mind after starting with Ulysses by James Joyce.  I am going to focus on the Editors' list and move to the Reader's list upon completion.

Why the shift?

Well, I am really enjoying (yes, you read that correctly) Ulysses. 

Throughout high school and college, I had heard many people disparage Ulysses.  "Yes," everyone said, "You think you like Joyce, but that is until you read Finnegan's Wake and Ulysses.  You'll change your mind after those."  As a consequence, I never started reading either one.  And, to be completely truthful, the library's copy of Ulysses has been sitting on my bedside table for about two weeks now, and I just got the courage to open it.  Talk about an intimidating book.

What a letdown!  After all the drama, I expected the book to be incomprehensible, terrible, and way over my head.  BAH!

Granted, I have only read Part 1, dealing with Stephen Dedalus.  There is a lot of novel left, and it may get increasingly difficult as it progresses.  So far, however, it is just the rambling internal monologue of Dedalus as he goes through the day.  Yes, there are a lot of allusions, but that is not entirely unexpected in literature.  Yes, it is stream of consciousness, but this is a girl that digs it.  No, there is not a lot of action, but you don't always need a  lot of action.

At this point, it seems as though Dedalus is consumed with guilt over his mother's death, and much of the interior monologue deals with his mommy issues.  There is other guilt, as well, however.  From my impressions, there is a lot of Catholic guilt--a phenomenon I seem to vaguely recall from Portrait of the Artist and Dubliners. 

In any event, I am actually enjoying what many have called the "worst best book" on the list.  I can't wait to get further and see if my initial impressions change.

And, I am too excited about other novels on the Editor's list to worry about reading Battlefield Earth and  The Fountainhead.  Both probably deserve a read, but I am putting them at the bottom of a hundred other books!