Reading Ulysses: Introductory Notes

I haven’t really mentioned it here before, but I’ve been reading James Joyce’s Ulysses this term, for one of my seminar classes. In some ways, I regret that I’m reading it now — not because it’s overly difficult or crazy, but because I’m finding it to be thoroughly enjoyable, and the rest of my schoolwork keeps getting in the way. I’d rather be reading Ulysses than writing yet another Hamlet paper. But life (and certainly not fourth year) does not progress that way, and so I’ve been squeezing it in as I’ve been able to, in chapters here and there.

Perhaps I’ll re-read it over the Christmas holidays.

I don’t know how many of you have read this novel, or have even considered doing so. It is huge, after all, and Joyce has a bit of a daunting reputation. But I echo the words of my friend the Angry Organist, who finished Ulysses a few months before I started:

Ulysses is a book that many people feel intimidated to read, because of its length and because of Joyce’s reputation as an icon of modernism. People are convinced that they won’t be able to understand the prose style, that they’ll need six reader’s guides and the help of a tenured English professor to make any sense of the novel. That may be true of Finnegans Wake (which I have yet to attempt), but it is certainly not true of Ulysses. Anyone willing to invest the time to the novel can read it, and anyone who is interested in modernism in the arts should read it – not only because it’s a Very Important Work of Literature, but because reading it is enjoyable. Joyce is a good enough writer that his book meets you where you are; if you know what “agenbite of inwit” refers to, then you’re ahead of the game, and if you don’t, the novel will make it clear soon enough.

When you read Ulysses, read straight through. Set aside time in your day to read a chapter at a sitting – otherwise you’re sure to lose your place in the stream-of-consciousness by the time you pick it up again. Do not stop when you don’t understand something – go back and read a sentence again if you have to, but it’s more important to move on in the narrative than to struggle over a complicated page. You won’t understand everything on the way through – entire chapters may slip over your head – but you can go back later and read through individual episodes to pick up more of the details. Have a synopsis at hand and check it every few chapters to make sure you haven’t missed a key plot event. But the most important thing is to get a sense of the work as a whole, read it through, and enjoy it without getting hung up on the details. That’s what the rest of your life is for.

Well said. And besides, did you know that Ulysses is funny? It truly is! I was very pleasantly surprised to figure this out. And it’s not just funny, it’s clever. I don’t know if Joyce is really, you know, The Best Writer EvAR!!1, but there’s no denying that he had bucketloads of talent.

Now, as an aid to myself and as an item perhaps of some interest to you, I have decided to chronicle my reading of Ulysses, going chapter by chapter (there being eighteen in all). These posts will run at an approximate rate of one per week.

Before I begin with the first chapter, “Telemachus,” are there any questions you have about Ulysses? If so, leave me a comment on this post — I will attempt to answer all of your queries, either in a separate post or as they come up in the chapters.