78: Ulysses, James Joyce

Date Finished: 21/11/2011
My Rating: 0/5

Anyone expecting some high-brow, profound review of Ulysses should probably look elsewhere...

It has taken me 97 days of pure stubborn-ness to get through this, and there was me thinking that Gormenghast was tough going. I think the first thing I would like to say about this book is in fact a question... what on earth is this book doing in the top 100 of Britain's best-loved books? I am really sorry, but I just cannot accept that 'love' is a word that anyone would use to describe how they feel about it. I can almost imagine that some people might appreciate it, or that they believe that it has a place in literary history, but on a list of best-loved books? No. I think the people who voted for this did so to make themselves appear intelligent. I apologise if anyone disagrees with me, but I can't imagine anyone getting carried away by this book, finding themselves completely immersed in its story, then getting to the end and immediately re-reading it simply because they didn't want it to end. To be truthful, I don't apologise for that anyway. If you come back to me and tell me that you did, I will consider your point of view for about a millisecond and then suspect that you're lying. Anyway, before I offend anyone any more than I may already have done, here is my review:

When I started reading Ulysses, I kept up with the notes at the back of the book, but it soon became apparent that I would need notes to understand the notes, so I decided not to bother. Very, very occasionally throughout the novel's 732 pages I would refer back to them, but I quickly realised that I was not going to understand most of what was going on in the book (and perhaps the reader isn't even supposed to understand most of what goes on), and without studying it with a pen and paper, the notes weren't going to make much difference.

Ulysses follows Leopold Bloom (who may or may not have had a bit of a foot fetish) and Stephen Dedalus throughout the course of a day, the 16th June 1904 in fact, in Dublin. The narrative changes throughout, so it's never entirely clear who is telling the story. In fact, if you had written any part of this and taken it to your English teacher at school, they would have told you to go away and do some homework relating to the rules of grammar and syntax, and to stop making up words. Plus, to make it even more complicated, there were errors in the original text ("The publisher asks the reader's indulgence for typographical errors unavoidable in the exceptional circumstances"), so you have to put up with them as well. Various versions of the novel have been printed throughout the years, the one I have read republished the original 1922 text, mistakes and all.

I suspect that Joyce doodled in words, which is why every so often there is a sentence that says something along the lines of "My kneecap is hurting me. Ow. That's better". I doodle in words. Instead of drawing stars and snails, I write down what thoughts are running through my head. Once, when taking minutes for an important meeting at work, I wrote on my piece of paper "Chuff nuggets, this is boring". As I was typing up my minutes I noticed it and chuckled. However, a few weeks later I went bright red and couldn't stop laughing for about a week when at the next meeting during 'matters of accuracy', somebody queried what was meant by "Two organisations have been told that they can say yes to this treatment, but that it would be at their own nuggets". Therefore, I suspect that Joyce brain dumped this entire book, along with all his word-doodles, onto paper, and then spent some time marketing it by saying 'oh, yeah, this novel is almost ready, but only really intelligent people will understand it, and if you don't get it, it must mean you're an idiot'. The publisher didn't want to admit he didn't understand it, and it wasn't until a little kid in the street shouted "but why is the emperor not wearing any clothes?" that the penny dropped.

No, wait... that last bit was a different story.

Anyway, I digress (which seems appropriate in the circumstances). If you would like to read a typical sentence from Ulysses, here is one from roughly half way through the book:

"For who is there who anything of some significance has apprehended but is conscious that that exterior splendour may be the surface of a downwardtending lutulent reality or on the contrary anyone so is there inilluminated as not to perceive that as no nature's boon can contend against the bounty of increase so it behoves every most just citizen to become the exhortator and admonisher of his semblables and to tremble lest what had in the past been by the nation excellently commenced might be in the future not with similar excellence accomplished if in inverecund habit shall have gradually traduced the honourable by ancestors transmitted customs to that thither of profundity that that one was audacious excessively who would have the hardihood to rise affirming that no more odious offence can for anyone be than to oblivious neglect to consign that evangel simultaneously command and promise which on all mortals with prophecy of abundance or with diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever irrevocably enjoined?"

Did you enjoy that? The book is littered with sentences like that. There are sentences that go on for 3 pages. There are lists. Just lists of names. For an entire page. Ooft. Shortly after that sentence above, Ulysses seems to change into a play for a while. After that there are about 70 pages where it is written with questions and answers. So, for example:

"What celestial sign was by both simultaneously observed?
A star precipitated with great apparent velocity across the firmament from Vega in the Lyre above the zenith beyond the stargroup of the Tress of Berenice towards the zodiacal sign of Leo."

Well, I'm not sure I cared for the answer. Or the question for that matter.

In summary then, Ullysses is incredibly difficult to read, let alone make sense of. Admittedly, I didn't spend hours pouring over each page, studying it intently, trying to understand each line. But I read for pleasure and escape, and having to think that much about a book is neither pleasurable nor escapist for me. Was there anything I liked about it? I liked that the next book on my list was mentioned in it: "Miss Dunne hid the Capel street library copy of The Woman in White far back in her drawer and rolled a sheet of gaudy notepaper into her typewriter." Oh yeah, and a bit later on Wilkie Collins is mentioned during the last chapter, which is the internal monologue of Molly Bloom, about 40 pages long and contains about 3 seperate sentences, the first of which being over 2000 words long.

I am very, very thankful to have reached the end. I still feel like I should justify why I have given it 0/5 though, and it is purely due to emotions. This list that I am trying to read through was compiled by asking people which book they loved, and I felt nothing at all for Ulysses. I just cannot believe that more people love this than love Holes for example. Mind you, that probably isn't a very good example, because the emotions you feel for an adult book are very different to those that you feel for a kid's book. I suppose it is all subjective after all. I'm also annoyed that it has totally messed up all my averages... I'm going to have to get some serious reading in to get back on track to finish the rest of these books by Christmas next year. 17 days per book now. SEVENTEEN!

So, who should read this book? If you're having trouble sleeping I would definitely recommend it. I found it really difficult to read because you have to concentrate so much to keep even slightly on top of it, and if I was at all tired I would find my eyes closing. Also, unfortunately, if it's on your reading syllabus at university you'll probably have to read it. Also, if you're completely mental and refuse to give up a book just because it's on some stupid reading list that you've challenged yourself to complete, then you should probably read it.

Next book: The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins.