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Reading Ulysses One Page a Day (w/the intent of finishing it sometime in early 2018): Pages 1-5




I believe I can do it this time; that is, read Ulysses from first page to last.  Once upon a time, in March of 2009, I organized a group read in LibraryThing called "The Quest for the Last Page of Ulysses," but about halfway through my Gabler edition copy of the novel (or roughly two-thirds of the way up to the "top"—the end—of the book, acknowledging the Mount Everest imagery and Himalayan metaphors I regularly employed in our reading progress during the epic Quest), I was either surprised by a Yeti, causing me to stumble and slip down an ice-chute to my doom, or was overcome by an avalanche, and so "died" while attempting to stand upon the summit of "Mount" Ulysses.

First edition, 1922
This time, there will be no impossible mountains to conquer; instead, Ulysses will be tackled as if it were a terrible addiction to overcome ... "one" hazy, lazy "day at a time"; or, one dizzying page per day. During each day of my recovery from Ulysses I will quote one sentence from my reading—not necessarily the best sentence, but whichever sentence for whatever reason(s) struck my fancy or maybe my funny bone. I will also share my favorite word (FW) of the day from my reading. What might Ulysses, both the best and the beastliest novel ever written, read like thus abridged?  Unless illness, family emergency, or death take me yonder, we are going to find out.

Why am I doing this? Doing something so hard and self-punishing? Well, why not?  So what if I have "to fake it till I make it," because I trust that Ulysses "will work if I work it, but it won't if I don't"! Also, beyond just the rewards that shall surely come to me once I've beaten this terrible disease, Ulysses, I'd like to finally get the ribald monkey off my back and be able to say that I finished the damn thing, every goddamned word of it, this novel that, love it or hate it (as I have both through the years), nonetheless deserves a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh chance (and more), understanding that relapse in fighting Ulysses is the expected norm.

In lieu of a hard copy of the novel, for the time being I'll be utilizing a pdf of Ulysses online.  And rather than post here every day, I'll post my progress in five day installments per blog post. So, here goes (thisiscrazy thisiscrazy thisiscrazy) . . . .

Day 1, Pg 1 

Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak.

The lovely alliteration of "displeased" / "sleepy" caught my ears.

f.w. = Chrysostomos

—<>—

Day 2; Pg 2 

—Lend us a loan of your noserag to wipe my razor.

f.w. = dactyls

—<>—

Joseph Beuys, examining Joyce's scrotumtightening sea (photo by Caroline Tisdall)
Day 3; Pg 3 

The scrotumtightening sea.

I bet the sea off Dublin, Ireland is scrotumtightening any time of year.

f.w. = snotgreen

—<>—

Day 4; Pg 4 

—He can’t wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face inthe mirror.

You can just hear Mulligan's sneer, that line is so spot-on-good (or "spotongood,") as Joyce may have spelled it.  That image of Mulligan speaking to the mirror is striking, too.

f.w. = dogsbody

—<>—

Day 5; pg 5

With slit ribbons of his shirt whipping the air he hops and hobbles round the table, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the tailor’s shears.

f.w.  = omphalos

—<>—


Reading Ulysses index

Comments

Séamus Duggan said…
I can confirm the scrotumtightening nature of the sea for much of the year in Dublin and environs.

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