Ulysses

Last semester I took a seminar class on James Joyce, and of course no class on Joyce would be complete without reading Ulysses. We spent the last half of the semester on Ulysses, and now that I've reviewed both Dubliners and Portrait of the Artist, I think it's finally time for me to talk about my experiences with Joyce's most famous/infamous novel. Ulysses picks up approximately one year after Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man ends, and begins with our old friend Stephen Dedalus, who is navigating the world of Dublin, working as a teacher, and still trying to be an artist in a place that continuously leaves him feeling isolated, alone, and without a home. While the first three chapters focus on Stephen, the rest of the book focuses on a new character, the famous Leopold Bloom, a Dublin Jew who, after eating a breakfast of mutton kidney, leaves the house to go about his daily business, all-the-while knowing that his wife, Molly, is planning an affair later that afternoon. That knowledge, the isolation he feels from his fellow Dubliners, the death of his young son ten years ago, and many other things weigh on his mind as we follow him about the affairs of his day. His path crosses and recrosses that of Stephen, and eventually the two outcasts finally meet and have a real conversation. Taking place in slightly less than 24 hours, Ulysses is an epic of the ordinary, a single day that contains every conceivable high and low. Now, if you've ever heard anything about Ulysses, I'm sure you've heard that it's nearly impossible to read. It has gained a nearly mythic status in the bookish world as an impenetrable wall of stylistic experimentation and dense allusion. The only hope for the intrepid reader is to consult many guides and source-books that will lead them through the labyrinth. To be honest with you, this is partially true. There were plenty of times when I didn't know what was happening, and I assure you that I missed most of the allusions and references to historical events. And yes, I did use a guide when I read it, which was a big help. More importantly, I also had a class full of people to discuss each chapter with and to keep me on schedule. (I do recommend reading this book with a friend. It's more fun that way.) But I want to make one thing very clear: The myth is only partially true. Because while I did not catch many of the allusions and references, I mostly understood what was happening in terms of plot and location. While I may not have understood the meaning of every sentence, I did understand the meaning of most paragraphs. And while I didn't always see exactly how each stylistic invention connected thematically to Bloom's journey, I could certainly appreciate the beauty and craft of Joyce's writing. Reading Ulysses is like being at the ocean; you have to let the waves of text wash over you without trying to analyze every single piece of sand. Understanding every single allusion is not necessary to enjoy the novel as a whole. You might miss a few of the jokes, but I promise you will be ok. The guide I used and which I would highly recommend, James Joyce A to Z, had brief summaries of each chapter in terms of plot and any major thematic elements, and that is all I needed in order to thoroughly enjoy myself. I think that oftentimes we as readers get too caught-up in "getting" the book that we forget to really read it. Ulysses is, first and foremost, an experience. If you get too caught up in trying to "understand" it, you'll miss all the fun. Fun? Yes, fun, because Ulysses is a deeply funny, witty, engaging, and beautiful book. First of all, Joyce is a phenomenal writer, and it would be a challenge to find a novel with more beautiful or more varied writing than this one. Some passages are just heart-stopping in their elegance. I literally stopped and reread some passages just so I could hear them again; they were that beautiful. Others were incredibly technically impressive, showing Joyce's amazing command of the English language (and others). Joyce's amazing skills as a writer mean that he is capable of making the wittiest puns and the funniest satires I have ever read. No, really. From the pub to the graveyard, from political arguments to prostitution, from the romantic novel to the epic catalog, there is nothing that Joyce can't laugh at. I never thought I would say this, but Ulysses literally made me laugh out loud. But of course this novel isn't all fun and games. There are tender, honest moments here more touching than nearly anything else put into print. There is heartbreak here, not of the cheesy faux-tragic kind that you find in a Nicholas Sparks novel, but honest emotion felt by ordinary people in situations that are all too real. Though Ulysses very often made me laugh, on a number of occasions it also made me cry. It touched me, because it spoke to that part of me (and, I think, of many of us) that knows what it's like to feel alone, regretful, and lost. That realism, that honesty of emotion and situation, is what sets Ulysses apart. The strange style, the encyclopedic allusions, the weird diversions, all of these serve to represent reality in all of its complexity, beauty, and sadness. Ulysses is funny, crafty, beautiful, and heartbreaking, but it is all of those things because it is real. If you've ever read my reviews before, you'll notice that this one is rather different. This time I haven't talked very much about technique or writing style, though really this would be the perfect novel to do that. And part of me does want to pull out my analytical brain and tell you all about Joyce's tricks and techniques and themes. I would feel accomplished for breaking down such a complex novel, and you would maybe feel like you learned something. But I don't think I'm going to do that this time. This time I think I'm going to focus on other things. Because despite all the intellectual enjoyment I got from untangling and discussing the themes and techniques, and despite the aesthetic enjoyment I found in Joyce's language, what struck me the most about Ulysses was its emotional honesty, especially in the characterization. For the first three chapters I felt nothing but empathy and pity for Stephen. I wanted to be his big sister, to comfort him, to let him know that he wasn't alone and that he could make it. And then I met Leopold Bloom, and slowly, cautiously, not without reservation, I fell for him, completely and utterly. Not in a romantic way, but as a human being, an all-too-real human being who had emotions and quirks that I could see and understand like those of an old friend. I fell in love with the way that he always tries to figure things out, to calculate, explain, and reason, even if his explanations are often incorrect, more pseudoscience than real science. I fell in love with his desire to please everyone, to make everyone happy, to avoid conflict wherever possible. I love that he maintains his optimism despite everything that happens to him. I love the way he always walks on the sunny side of the street, is conscientious about his money, and loves to eat good food. I wanted nothing more in the world than for him to actually meet Stephen, because I needed to see what would happen when these two characters whom I cared so much about finally met. And yes, sometimes Bloom creeped me out a little with his thoughts about sex or bodily functions. Sometimes I got annoyed with him for being so passive, and I yelled at him to stop being such a pushover already. But when he had the chance to finally show some courage, I cheered him on with all of my heart, and when he stood up for Stephen my heart nearly burst I was so proud of him. Leopold Bloom was so lonely, so hopeful, and so real, and in the end it was the force of his character (and, to a lesser extent, Stephen's) that really made Ulysses shine. Ulysses is a novel that takes place in a single day, and yet somehow seems to encompass the whole world. It's strange and difficult and sometimes frustrating, and to be honest I wouldn't recommend it to those who don't like their books to be a puzzle or who get frustrated when they don't understand what is going on. But if you do like a challenge, then I think you'll find that every frustration in Ulysses is paid back a thousand times over in beauty and enjoyment. I promise that you won't catch everything on your first read-through; I know I didn't. But that did not take away from my enjoyment of the novel in the slightest. I know I'll come back to it some day, maybe a chapter at a time here or there, and that no matter when or how often I return it will always have something new to offer me. Rating: 5+ Recommendations: Don't get too weighed down with guides. Just read it and enjoy it, and check chapter summaries or historical events if you get lost. Ulysses is an experience, so just dive in. Note: This is a review of the Revised Gabler Edition, which is that one you should read.

So much has been written about this revolutionary novel by James Joyce. My review will hardly add anything that hasn't already been said. All I will say is if you love literature and are a fan of the developments in prose from modernism, postmodernism and similar movements, it is your duty to read Ulysses. You wouldn't have the achievements of writers and publications like Nabokov, Woolf, Anthony Powell, Pynchon, Gaddis, Rushdie, Borges, David Foster Wallace,or even McSweeneys without the sprawling experiment undertaken by Joyce in these pages. Here, he tells a story set completely in the minds and actions of his characters over the course of one summer's day (June 16th, 1904) in Dublin, Ireland. Through this stream of consciousness technique, Joyce gives us not merely a story but a book grappling directly with the human mind, with all its lofty and not-so-lofty thoughts. Mixed with introspection and philosophical ponderings are mundane thoughts about business and colleagues, fears about infidelity, insecurity, masturbation, farting, sex jokes, food and toilet humor. The entire spectrum of human thought is given in its subversion of the bourgeois morality of the English novel. Yet this is not the only innovation Joyce makes with his novel. He also fragments his narrative with different narrative styles indicating the different types of thoughts and events that are being dealt with in each chapter. In a chapter about his business, the narration is entirely in the form of newspaper advertisement clippings. A visit to a bordello is narrated as a gaudy popular play. A chapter about masturbation at a beach is narrated as a cheesy romance novel. The last chapter is pure stream of consciousness with the gas turned high, as we go through almost every thought Leopold Bloom's wife has about her husband and their marriage. In homage to its inspiration - Homer's Odyssey - the overall book is structured according to the Odyssey's structure, with the main characters mirroring those of the Greek Epic (Stephen Dedalus - Telemachus, Leopold Bloom - Odysseus (Ulysses in Latin - hence the novel's name) - Molly Bloom - Penelope) and the overall events of the novel being a mundane parallel to what happened in the original poem. Already what I've said barely touches on what's so great about this (I'm not an eloquent literary critic) but all I can say is do not be put off by the complicated nature of this work. It is not an easy read by any means but it is an incredibly engaging, intensely moving and outright hilarious work about everyday things that completely changed the game as to what novels could do. Even though literature has moved on considerably from Ulysses' brand of modernism and the type of toilet humor it dished out pales in comparison to what's common media today, it is still an entertaining, down to earth and clever book. Not the overly intellectual, pretentious behemoth that its sometimes dismissed as. You do yourself a disservice if you don't at least try to read it. Ok there, I've said enough platitudes. Go out and read!

I bought this to supplement the 1961 Random House edition (balance of textual corrections and respect for the original, matches most annotations), Modern Library edition (most portable, attractive package as all ML editions, typography a tad hard on my 40-something eyes) and '80s "Gabler edition" (hotly contested, worth keeping as a collector's item as it's been largely withdrawn). The original Shakespeare & Co. printings are out of my league, although I've seen several. Until I hit the lottery, this is the closest I'll own. A quick Google will find you first edition, first printing copies selling for up to 100k. I doubt my stimulus check is that big. This is a textual facsimile - a photo reproduction of the original, 1000-copy first edition - copy #784, to be exact. It also reproduces the cover typography and the Shakespeare and Co. title page, with an added, Orchises title page to keep the record clear. It contains the original colophon. It doesn't contain the forward, letter from Joyce to Bennett Cerf or Judge Woolsey opinion you're probably used to seeing in American editions. In a physical sense, it's hard to say how this is a facsimile, other than Orchises has reproduced the full size of the original. Of course, the paper and binding material are different. Most S. & Co. editions came unbound in blue-green wrappers, and could be bound as desired. This is why you see original printings in such disparate bindings. Orchises has reproduced the color of the original wrappers, although their binding looks a little more green than the original wrappers (maybe the color has shifted on those?). In any case, it's a solid cloth binding, comparable to, say, a better-than-average library binding. Bound size given as 9.6 x 7.5 x 1.7 inches, I measure it a hair taller. I daresay it will hold up to extended use. In addition to giving the slight tingle of pleasure that comes from knowing you're reading the text as originally sold at 12, Rue de l'Odeon, this edition is much more comfortable on my eyes than the others. I like the typeface used by original printer Maurice Darantiere for readability, but haven't gotten a definitive answer as to what it is - does anyone know? Somehow, it just feels right. Orchises says the paper is 50-pound, ph-balanced (aka acid-free) paper, and that seems about right. It's really good paper, with a slight, almost visually undetectable textured finish that feels good to the fingers. Excellent paper-to-ink contrast. I can, and will, read this all day. For the average reader, there's no earthly reason to spend this amount on a novel, and the ML edition will be both more convenient and, with its front material, more informative. For someone who rereads Ulysses for pleasure, it's a joy. The 1922 text has been analyzed to death, and is not without errors (2,000? 3,000? 5,000? the number gets larger each time it's mentioned). It was perhaps inevitable in a book with no clear reference manuscript - even the extant manuscripts were to some degree created by Joyce after the fact for sale. Part of one manuscript was burned by the angry husband of a typist, who found its content objectionable. An appreciable percentage of the text was written as corrections on the original proofs. Hence the charming apology from Sylvia Beach reproduced in this facsimile: "The publisher asks the reader's indulgence for typographical errors unavoidable in the exceptional circumstances. S.B." But each effort to correct the errors added more errors, as well as layers of contention. See the well-documented battle over the Gabler edition. Or the disastrous 1998 "Reader's edition" by Danis Rose. The original is as good as any for reading, and if you care enough to buy a facsimile, you will have other editions for comparison anyway. For scholarly use, this isn't the best edition, since most standard annotations match the Random House or Modern Library editions. Unless you're beyond Ulysses 101 and want to compare editions. This is one of three first-edition facsimiles that have been published. I can't speak to the others, but I can recommend this one. Kudos to Orchises, and I hope they keep it in print. Or not, so my copy will become a minor-league collector's item. Ulysses has become an obsession and and a world in and of itself for its partisans, of whom I am one. The Ulysses obsession is much like the Higher Criticism surrounding the Sherlock Holmes canon. Many people find it bizarre, and I can hardly disagree. If, like me, you've got the bug, I don't have to explain it to you. This is an edition for you. If you don't, I paraphrase Louis Armstrong: "If you have to ask, you'll never know."

The magnitude of genius and complexity of James Joyce's 1922 novel Ulysses can not be understated. Perhaps the most ambitious, most intimidating, most notorious, and single greatest novel of 20th century- if not all of literature. I own two different editions of the novel: the Every Man's Library hardcover edition, a fine and handsome book, presented in three parts/chapters and is excellent; and the Vintage "Gabler Edition", which I strongly prefer, this version has a more complete text, the lines are numbered, the book is arranged into 18 titled chapters making it easier to navigate the running themes and vast references to Homer's Odyssey, all this makes this undertaking much less difficult, and even after many months of reading and use the soft cover book's spine did not crease or crack. Truly excellent. The novel is enormously challenging and the more you can understand the more rewarding and impressive it becomes. It obviously helps to know Homer's Odyssey, it's parallels are incredibly numerous. I also highly recommend reading Joyce's Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man before this, it gives backstory to the Stephen Dedalus character (as well Joyce himself and his narrative style). It helps, but not necessary, to get acquainted with Irish history, the works of Shakespeare, Dante, and maybe Yeats. If you can make it through the Proteus chapter you should be able to make through the book, although Oxen Of The Sun is the most demanding chapter. As for extraneous materials: Joseph Campell's books were good, but the best, most helpful by far for me was Prof. James A. Heffernan's invaluable, enjoyable lectures on DVD from The Great Courses. Reading this masterpiece can be great fun, especially for lovers of myth, as it's basis Homer's Odyssey, the ancient Greek epic poem of Odysseus' (Ulysseys in Latin) remarkable twenty year return from the Trojan War to vanquish his faithful wife's suitors and reclaim his usurped home, one of the grandest adventures of heroic myth, is here reimagined, reinvented, reincarnated, and regurgitated into a single mundane day in Dublin- June 16th 1904. This longest day in literature is actually quite eventful, as the day dovetails into the twists and turns of adman Leopold Bloom, his quest back home to wife, Molly, their complicated relationship, and the academic Stephen Dedalus, a trinity of existential wanderers, a father, a surrogate son and a mother, the natural world, the mind, and spiritual all culminate in a metaphysical meditation on the human condition and the link between the ancient and modern world. Some Highlights: Stephen's ponderous walk along the strand (absolutely great- my favourite chapter), Bloom's pork kidney breakfast, the food buffet of Lystrygonians, Stephen's theories on Hamlet and Shakespeare, the music of the sirens, the hilarious overblown parody in Cyclops, the cosmic Ithaca, and Molly Bloom's stream of consciousness/soliloquy -an intellectual knock out punch. Told in a variety of styles and voices in a vivid city, Joyce's command of language is unsurpassed, it even becomes apparent he is delightfully toying with the reader. The work is dense with symbolism and language- including Latin, French, Italian, multiple forms of English (not to mention Joyce's own unique wordplay and onomatopoeia !). It's notoriety is also well earned, and is still earthy and vulgar a century later, though much of it is rather humorous -every bodily function is included as well as frank aspects of life, death, birth, religion, love, sex, memories, food, music, art, literature, science, culture and society...- the whole kitchen sink. Indeed this book is not for everyone but it is richly rewarding, completely unique, and may still has the power to alter a reader's view of what is capable in a real world literary landscape. Consider also reading Joyce's daunting final work Finnegan's Wake, a dream time novel beyond description, Alfred Doblin's Berlin Alexanderplatz, the works of Virginia Woolf, and even T.S. Eliot's poetry.

"Ulysses" by James Joyce (1934) is a novel about the interaction of social responsibility and personal desires. It focuses primarily on three characters: Stephen Dedalus a self-absorbed scholar attempting to find his artistic voice, Leopold Bloom who tries to meet his social responsibilities in a culture that is not completely accepting of him, and Molly Bloom (Poldy's wife) who struggles with her feminine destiny. The novel parallels the structure of Homer's "Odyssey" that chronicles the 10 year struggle of Odysseus to return from war in Troy to his home in Ithaca. Ulysses, the Latin translation of the Greek name Odysseus, is Leopold (Poldy) Bloom who travels the streets of Dublin one Thursday on June 16, 1904. His goal is to accomplish his daily task of meeting his family's economic needs, forming social alliances with Dubliners (including Stephen), and satisfying his own drives for understanding and fulfillment. Odysseus sought to reunite with his wife and assess her fidelity in his absence, and Bloom looks forward to the end of the day when he returns to his home at 7 Eccles Street, concerned about his wife's unfaithfulness. "Ulysses" is remarkable in its descriptive detail of the physical and psychological environments of Dublin and its characters. The feelings related to immersion in the living Irish city are so strong that there may be some irrational fear of being unable to return to current life. The entrance into the reality of the lives of Stephen, Molly, and Poldy is uncanny as readers become physically and psychically connected to characters. It is a matter of proximity. You lose your own personality as you accompany these people when they converse, walk the streets, visit stores, drink and philosophize, reveal themselves in stream of consciousness monologues, argue, pursue bacchanalian extremes, and have private battles with loss and melancholy. The reader `sees' everything that day, the external locations and the inner worlds of the characters, with the "ineluctable modality of the visible." This is the direct and complete experience of Joyce's art without the restriction of our own frame of reference, history, obligations, and wants. It is intimidating to realize that your own life is changing, that part of your personal history now contains a new day of your own existence - you have extended your life for a day. Many people throughout the world celebrate a second birthday on June 16 (Bloomsday). After publication of "Ulysses," I believe that James Joyce (like a few other artists) spent the rest of his life amazed at his creation. As he lay dying in hospital waiting for his wife to return to his bedside, he had to wonder where his inspiration originated, where he summoned the ability to give the gift of another day of life to us all. The reader can benefit most from "Ulysses" by preparing to read it. Read (re-read) Homers "Odyssey." Pay close attention to the structure, the symbolic content, and the psychology of Odysseus. Odysseus was a flawed hero, externally brave but also self-serving and blind to parts of his own personality (like Bloom). Use "Ulysses Annotated" by Don Gifford to help guide you through the detail of theology, philosophy, psychology, history, rhetoric, and the physical layout of Dublin. This reference work is very good because it allows readers to have their own experiences by providing only supplementary content (facts) that help to understand the myriad allusions presented in the text. I suggest that you enjoy the many beautiful styles of prose presented in the 18 episodes pausing to quickly glance at the definitions in your opened copy of "Ulysses Annotated." Then before reading the next episode, go back and read the complete explanatory entries in this reference book. Give yourself a couple of months to enjoy the novel and add this new day to your life.

A difficult and somewhat unfulfilling read. Beautiful writing at times and great overarching artistic vision, however don’t think that guarantees a good read.

Unreadable. Wannabe intellectuals shout from the rooftops its praises, but any book that requires other books or guides to understand the disjointed gibberish is not worth the effort. If pain, suffering, and self-loathing are your thing, then by all means take this on. Otherwise, there are far better ways to explore the intricities of human life.

Ulysses is difficult, with turgid prose that will challenge you, confuse you, and at times completely baffle you as to what is being said. But amongst this collage of literary techniques is the understanding of the human psyche laid bare in a way that's never been done before and never been repeated. It's a book that was created to be investigated, studied, and annotated again and again. And it's a book that's met to be enjoyed and laughed at for it's complete and utter vulgarity and hilarity. It's a joke. It's a philosophy. It's dirty. It's romantic. It's sad. It's life for all its foibles and all it's distractions experienced through the mind and the actions of man. It's a time capsule. It's a love letter. it's the best of literature.