I have had two things stuck in my head all day. Firstly the words 'Stately plump Buck Mulligan.' This is the opening few words from Ulysses, a novel by James Joyce a topic which has featured in a previous blog. It is without a doubt the best book I have ever read, and I hate it.
This might confuse some readers, in my head the terms 'best' and 'my favourite' don't usually constitute the same set of books/films/music etc. I think the Godfather's amazing, I love watching it and I could write a considerably long essay about how I think it's the best film I've ever seen. It doesn't come anywhere near my top five though. It just doesn't have the rewatchability of Die Hard or Sleepless in Seattle for me. (Also through that statement you can see my strange range of film tastes)
Ulysses is the book form of the Godfather for me, quite long, quite complicated and brilliant. It took James Joyce 20 years to write and it is taking up most of my time to read. It amazes me how a man can write a 900 page book where every single sentence means something. There is nothing incidental, nothing pointless in this book. And it is amazing.
It is driving me insane.
I mean pretentious much? Needless to say I will not be revisiting this book like I've revisited Harry Potter. No Harry Potter probably doesn't have as much 'literary value' but to hell with literary value I like being relaxed and Ulysses does not do that for me. To read something so confusing and so heavy (in terms of what is in it and just general grams) is really taking it out of me, and I look forward to Christmas so I can say goodbye to it. I can confine it to my shelf and look at it occasionally thinking 'yeah, I read that' and feel jolly well proud of myself.
But I don't think it'll end there. I have a feeling this book won't leave me. Like the Odyssey (the book which it is set around) which I have studied at GCSE, A-Level, and now apparently university level. As my friend Ryan said to me earlier, it's come back to haunt me in Modernist form. Worryingly I not only think that it won't leave me, but that I won't want to leave it. I love finding stuff out and learning things and here is a book that no one has ever found everything from. No one likes it, no one would take the fucking thing on holiday, but people read it, people have talked about it and taken it to pieces for exactly 90 years. I think if I ever get into lecturing, as is one of my dreams, I will be teaching a module on the bloody thing. Because I think it's important to literature, I just can't bloody stand it.
Most things I come across nowadays, I quietly think to myself 'this requires study'. I moan about it like no one else, but I love studying literature. I am in the process of applying for an MA in children's literature. I'm loving my dissertation and I'm taking on another personal study next semester. Which brings me to the second thing which has been stuck in my head all day. The Oasis lyric 'if there's a God won't he give another chancer, an hour to sing for his soul.'
If Ulysses has been contested for 90 years, nothing has been contested like God. I don't know what I think about religion. I won't say anything for or against it because I want to study it. I find modernism almost forces me to think about these things, doing an essay on Nietzsche and statements like 'God is dead' is what should be held accountable for this blog. I find it so interesting and I do believe in something afterwards. I can't get my head around the fact that I'll stop being me. However this blind belief in some form of afterlife does not necessarily support a belief in the almighty. I don't like organised religion, personally I don't like how you have to pick one (for the time it takes up). Why are there so many? Why does there have to be a right one? Are any of them right? I don't know, so I'll be looking into that. My lecturers; scholars and logical minds, go to church and believe. I like to know people's beliefs, I like to know why, so I'll look into it. I don't like being told what to believe, by either side, I like to make my own decisions, so one day I'll take a look at that.
Human beings seem to have a habit of writing on things and people looking at these things a thousand years later and thinking they must have significance. This may have been what happened with the guy who thought up religion on a cave wall or the side of a pyramid. And this may have happened with Ulysses. I would love to have a time machine, visit James Joyce and discover that Ulysses is actually a 900 page book about a man farting, pooing, picking his nose and masturbating his way through a day, eating kidneys, going to funerals and nothing else. And all the literary references and everything else that has been picked apart from it is purely incidental. Until then however...
Stately plump Buck Mulligan...for fuck's sake.
It is because of these thoughts that Ulysses has given me, and doing essays on things like 'God is dead' and an endless stream of modernism travelling my way, I joined a snooker club. It's free for students and it relaxes me. I think it's the clack of the balls? Probably weird but hey, I'm a weird guy. So if you'd like to join me for a game and a chat about Nietzsche or James Joyce, find me at assorted Riley's snooker clubs drinking Guinness and having a lovely relax.
Showing posts with label Ulysses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ulysses. Show all posts
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
Monday, 16 July 2012
A Fancy Way of Saying Not Much or 'David Tries Being a Third Year'
Well internet, I'm annoyed.
And I'll tell you for why. I'd call him JJ, but that unfortunately makes him sound cool, and in my opinion, so far, he is not. I am talking about the so-called master wordsmith James Joyce.
I'll be honest, I'm 40 pages into the 900 page leviathan confuse-athon and so far I am just that. Confused isn't the word, I may be confuzzled to say the least. My lecturer said to me in a meeting with him, that it was his personal opinion that Modernism (and James Joyce is the main flag-bearer for that particular critical theory) was a fancy way of saying not much at all. And I'm inclined to agree.
I understand modernism, I understand the movement to create new ways to tell stories. Without modernism we wouldn't have Catcher in the Rye, or Dracula, two stories told in ways which were previously unheard of. Catcher in the Rye, like Ulysses, the book I am struggling through, written in a stream of consciousness way, Dracula written as a series of letters and diary entries. A style which I found gripping and interesting, and it's why these are two of my favourite books.
Ulysses though. It makes me angry! Joyce makes so many claims as though they're gospel truth. And I understand why he writes, as in to get people to think about things, namely irish home rule and British imperialism at its time of writing, but this is hidden amongst so many other subplots and asides it's almost impossible to keep up with. In the first page alone I was confronted with three different ideals and preachy statements concerning religion, a quest for paternity and something else which my brain can't even start to remember. The only way these themes were brought to my attention was by consulting the notes.
'Stately, plumb Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: - Introibo ad altare Dei'
Would anyone like to guess what you're supposed to get from those opening lines to this book? Just a man having a leisurely stroll down the stairs to have a shave. Why he's so lazy he hasn't even done up his dressing gown? That crazy mo-fo.
While this is happening in the story, I am suppose to ignore this point, i.e. what is actually happening. Instead I'm supposed to remark on the crossed mirror and razor which makes a mockery of the Catholic church and the catholic mass as he creates a mock worship in his shaving routine. Therefore there's a distinct anti-religion theme. I'm supposed to take his ungirdled dressing down as to meaning that he's walking down the stairs naked, as in, displaying his penis. His ease with which he displays his penis is mean to represent his affinity with Neitzsche's Superman, the übermensch. The ideal representation of how a man should be. This is meant to lead me to the two main character's quest for their paternity, though Stephen Dedalus has not even been introduced to us yet. Then there's something else of importance about the fact that he used Latin frivilously. I can't remember because I can't fit anything else in my head.
That was six lines!
And sure, you can say 'but David, you're an English student, you're supposed to do this to any book.' And I'd agree, and I love doing it, but not to every single line, to a series of completely unrelated preachy points. I disagree with preachiness on all levels. My dissertation is centred mainly around this point. I dislike being told what to believe and what is good literature. I don't think this is good literature. I don't think good literature should include a vital notes section without which you miss the point of the book. And the notes are extensive. As in about 300 pages worth. 300 pages explaining the incomprehensible words in this stupid book!
I like finding the meaning in things, and I think it's impressive that so much can be put into a book. But is any of it necessary? Did I need to have all of this shoved down my throat by James Joyce? I don't think so. I think you get much much more from books written by John Green. I mention John Green a lot in my blogs and in life in general and there's a reason for that. His skill is to create a fantastic story with gripping characters which you can read in a day because you literally can't put his books down. You feel like any moment you're not reading his book is a moment wasted. When I pick up Ulysses, with a veritable groan I feel my heart sinking as I know that in about half an hour's time I'm going to have a headache and then find that I've only progressed 3 pages.
Interesting characters are vitally important to literature. I personally find it interesting to see the author through his characters. And what I see through the high and mighty, douchebag that is Buck Mulligan, and the reserved 'perfect man' that is Stephen Dedalus is the two sides of James Joyce, neither of which I like. Both of them preaching in their own ways.
It's an interesting story that books used to be sealed, and you had to break each new page as you progressed through the book. The vast majority of copies of Ulysses which have been found from it's time of publication were not broken in beyond page 50. As in no one could get through it. Did they miss out? I don't think so. They probably went and read Dracula, had a thumping good read, and then if they wanted they learnt some really interesting and vital points about feminism and other things contained importantly within pages, which, insultingly at the time was seen as 'Tesco's Top Ten' literature. The 50 Shades of Grey of its day. And yes, times change, but really, 50 Shades of Grey is a steaming pile of horse manure. Dracula is a really good book. And yes that's my opinion. However I wouldn't be high and mighty enough to say without doubt that every person in the world must read Dracula. I highly recommend you give it a try but I don't think anything is vital literature. Least of all Ulysses.
So now I struggle on, because I must read about why James Joyce believes that boys playing sports and learning Classics in England led to World War One.
I shit you not. Page 41, here I come. *waves flag of sarcasm*
And I'll tell you for why. I'd call him JJ, but that unfortunately makes him sound cool, and in my opinion, so far, he is not. I am talking about the so-called master wordsmith James Joyce.
I'll be honest, I'm 40 pages into the 900 page leviathan confuse-athon and so far I am just that. Confused isn't the word, I may be confuzzled to say the least. My lecturer said to me in a meeting with him, that it was his personal opinion that Modernism (and James Joyce is the main flag-bearer for that particular critical theory) was a fancy way of saying not much at all. And I'm inclined to agree.
I understand modernism, I understand the movement to create new ways to tell stories. Without modernism we wouldn't have Catcher in the Rye, or Dracula, two stories told in ways which were previously unheard of. Catcher in the Rye, like Ulysses, the book I am struggling through, written in a stream of consciousness way, Dracula written as a series of letters and diary entries. A style which I found gripping and interesting, and it's why these are two of my favourite books.
Ulysses though. It makes me angry! Joyce makes so many claims as though they're gospel truth. And I understand why he writes, as in to get people to think about things, namely irish home rule and British imperialism at its time of writing, but this is hidden amongst so many other subplots and asides it's almost impossible to keep up with. In the first page alone I was confronted with three different ideals and preachy statements concerning religion, a quest for paternity and something else which my brain can't even start to remember. The only way these themes were brought to my attention was by consulting the notes.
'Stately, plumb Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: - Introibo ad altare Dei'
Would anyone like to guess what you're supposed to get from those opening lines to this book? Just a man having a leisurely stroll down the stairs to have a shave. Why he's so lazy he hasn't even done up his dressing gown? That crazy mo-fo.
While this is happening in the story, I am suppose to ignore this point, i.e. what is actually happening. Instead I'm supposed to remark on the crossed mirror and razor which makes a mockery of the Catholic church and the catholic mass as he creates a mock worship in his shaving routine. Therefore there's a distinct anti-religion theme. I'm supposed to take his ungirdled dressing down as to meaning that he's walking down the stairs naked, as in, displaying his penis. His ease with which he displays his penis is mean to represent his affinity with Neitzsche's Superman, the übermensch. The ideal representation of how a man should be. This is meant to lead me to the two main character's quest for their paternity, though Stephen Dedalus has not even been introduced to us yet. Then there's something else of importance about the fact that he used Latin frivilously. I can't remember because I can't fit anything else in my head.
That was six lines!
And sure, you can say 'but David, you're an English student, you're supposed to do this to any book.' And I'd agree, and I love doing it, but not to every single line, to a series of completely unrelated preachy points. I disagree with preachiness on all levels. My dissertation is centred mainly around this point. I dislike being told what to believe and what is good literature. I don't think this is good literature. I don't think good literature should include a vital notes section without which you miss the point of the book. And the notes are extensive. As in about 300 pages worth. 300 pages explaining the incomprehensible words in this stupid book!
I like finding the meaning in things, and I think it's impressive that so much can be put into a book. But is any of it necessary? Did I need to have all of this shoved down my throat by James Joyce? I don't think so. I think you get much much more from books written by John Green. I mention John Green a lot in my blogs and in life in general and there's a reason for that. His skill is to create a fantastic story with gripping characters which you can read in a day because you literally can't put his books down. You feel like any moment you're not reading his book is a moment wasted. When I pick up Ulysses, with a veritable groan I feel my heart sinking as I know that in about half an hour's time I'm going to have a headache and then find that I've only progressed 3 pages.
Interesting characters are vitally important to literature. I personally find it interesting to see the author through his characters. And what I see through the high and mighty, douchebag that is Buck Mulligan, and the reserved 'perfect man' that is Stephen Dedalus is the two sides of James Joyce, neither of which I like. Both of them preaching in their own ways.
It's an interesting story that books used to be sealed, and you had to break each new page as you progressed through the book. The vast majority of copies of Ulysses which have been found from it's time of publication were not broken in beyond page 50. As in no one could get through it. Did they miss out? I don't think so. They probably went and read Dracula, had a thumping good read, and then if they wanted they learnt some really interesting and vital points about feminism and other things contained importantly within pages, which, insultingly at the time was seen as 'Tesco's Top Ten' literature. The 50 Shades of Grey of its day. And yes, times change, but really, 50 Shades of Grey is a steaming pile of horse manure. Dracula is a really good book. And yes that's my opinion. However I wouldn't be high and mighty enough to say without doubt that every person in the world must read Dracula. I highly recommend you give it a try but I don't think anything is vital literature. Least of all Ulysses.
So now I struggle on, because I must read about why James Joyce believes that boys playing sports and learning Classics in England led to World War One.
I shit you not. Page 41, here I come. *waves flag of sarcasm*
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