Happy belated Bloomsday, ya’ll

A puzzle I turn over in my head sometimes is whether it’s worth someone’s time to read Ulysses.  Depends how much time you have, I guess.

I remember reading once that you can’t really begin to approach this book unless you can speak English, Old English, Irish, Greek, and Latin, and you’d probably best know Hebrew too.

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My favorite part, from Episode 8, Lestrygonians.  Bloom sees a walking advertisement for his former employer:

A procession of whitesmocked men marched slowly towards him along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards. Bargains. Like that priest they are this morning: we have sinned: we have suffered. He read the scarlet letters on their five tall white hats: H. E. L. Y. S. Wisdom Hely’s. Y lagging behind drew a chunk of bread from under his foreboard, crammed it into his mouth and munched as he walked. Our staple food. Three bob a day, walking along the gutters, street after street. Just keep skin and bone together, bread and skilly. They are not Boyl: no: M’Glade’s men. Doesn’t bring in any business either. I suggested to him about a transparent show cart with two smart girls sitting inside writing letters, copybooks, envelopes, blotting paper. I bet that would have caught on. Smart girls writing something catch the eye at once. Everyone dying to know what she’s writing.



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