For the first time, I haven't been able to assign a numerical rating to a book.

Opting for 4 or 5 stars would have been too much of a stance on my part. Although there have been brilliant moments (especially the last chapter which is AMAZING), I have suffered through this book much more than enjoyed it. Who am I trying to deceive? No one. The 3 stars were automatically ruled out because I don't think it's a book that leaves you precisely indifferent. Even today, weeks after closing it, I'm still turning over in my mind some of the experiments that Joyce did on me. Finally, the 2 or 1 stars seemed like too strong a statement of intentions, and I don't feel comfortable with that either: yes, it's a headache, but it's also a unique book, an opportunity to test yourself as a reader, and to witness incredulously the destruction (at times playful, at times hateful) of the 19th-century novel.

Conclusion: there are no stars this time. If I'm ever crazy enough (or sedated enough) to want to reread it, I'll try to refine this business of giving it a grade more.

FULL REVIEW: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaoOh...

Διαβάστε και την κριτική μου στα Ελληνικά στις βιβλιοαλχημείες.

This was like climbing a mountain and now I feel the breeze which is so sweet and I can finally rest, enjoying the scenery and vistas and landscapes around me.

-So did you like it?

-That's a hard question. Well, I read this book the first time with the help of an audiobook which was more of a radio-play. It was a marathon production transmitted uninterrupted on Bloomsday (04/06) in 1982 to commemorate the centenary of Joyce's birth. With more than five narrators and 20+ voice actors it felt like listening to a radio-play not just an audiobook.

It was produced by RTÉ (Radio and Television of Ireland). And here's the link.

It enlivened the whole book, and I can say I enjoyed it both times, but of course I couldn't understand everything I read.

-So how much did you understand from it?

-It is a book which the more you read from it the more you understand it. You are more familiar with it every time you return to it.

The story sounds easy. It's the story of one man (Leopold Bloom) and his mini Odyssey around Dublin. It goes like this:

-1] I, Stephen Dedalus, am in this tower and there's an usurper, an Englishman, I don't like him here, and now I have to teach, and those students bore me. 2] They don't know how Pyrrhus died, the ignoramuses, and I have to meet my employer that old turtle and the way he talks going on and on bores me to hell. 3] And now I need to relax, will I? by the sea, there's something in my nose, I need to take it out, and I really need to piss. 4] It's morning and I, Leopold Bloom, have to make breakfast to my wife like every other man in Dublin #not; what's up kittie, are you hungry? I need to take a shit, I'll take the newspaper with me and let's hope I'm not constipated again. 5] I need to buy some soap, lemon-scented, I don't remember; and I have to destroy this letter too, before going to the funeral. 6] Oh, poor Mr Dignam he was a good man, that's what we always say when someone dies. 7] Today the newspaper's headquarters were noisy and I wasn't able to work properly. I need to fix an error on an advertisement, something about keys or Keyes. not sure. 8] The way people eat and suck oysters and lard disgusts me. Oh, I hate dirty eaters. 9] I want to visit the museum again to see the statues and then go to the National library to ask for something. 10] Some people say that someone important is visiting the city today, well, I don't give a rat's ass about who he is. 11] I really enjoyed my time with Simon Dedalus at the Hotel's bar enjoying our drinks but I was shocked. 12] When that bloody racist accused me of being a filthy Jew and I told him that his God, Christ was a Jew too, and a carpenter, and he was angry and he threw my a biscuit tin, the idiot. 13] That girl there at the beach is so hot, I need to jerk off badly. Wait a minute; she has a lame leg, O! anyway, now I need to wipe up the mess I did. 14] I went into a maternity ward and it was really noisy and the nurses were angry. 15] And then I met Simon Dedalus's son, Stephen Dedalus and I saved him from spending too much money to whores and also I again saved him from a bloody English soldier, although he was punched once. 16] I took him with me for a cocoa drink in a sailors' shelter and an old man was bragging about his travels. I believe he was a lying Baron Munchausen. 17] We finally arrived home, had tea or coffee I don't remember, we pissed together in the garden, his piss' arc was wider and faster, and then he left, I went upstairs and saw my wife sleeping. I kissed her yellow-mellow-melon-buttocks and slept. 18] What is he planning to achieve by kissing my buttocks? All I need is sex, and a banana in my vagina, but I'm afraid it'll break inside me, I need to suck a sailor or a university student. I wonder if that young poet Stephen Dedalus is hung like a horse. I'd like to suck him too, but I love my husband, yes, I do, yes.

It might sound easy but it's not.

Every chapter/episode has a different kind of technique. Some are written in a stream-of-consciousness style (3, 4, 18), episode 15 is written as a play, episode 11 feels like music, more sounds than meaning, episode 14 develops like the English language from Old English to Shakespeare's English, to present time's jargon and slang, and chapter 18 is a loooong monologue by Molly Bloom, Leopold's wife. Not a single punctuation mark (apart from the final full-stop), not a single paragraph break, a loooong 62-page sentence.

I read this mammoth book in February 2017 for the first time.

I and a friend of mine at the end of 2019 we made some bookish resolutions for 2020.

I had to zero my TBR, and she had to finally read James Joyce's magnum opus «Ulysses».

Having read (and heard) the book before it was going to be easier the second time around.

A second time I was planning for anyway.

But since my friend needed support through this personal Odyssey I ended rereading «Ulysses» as a buddy read.

We read it early in May and I was glad once again for experiencing Joyce's experimental avant-garde writing.

She was glad that she read it and will never have anything to do with it or its novelist, unless hell freezes over, and George R.R. Martin publishes The Winds of Winter.

Ulysses is a complex and multi-faceted work that offers a unique reading experience. Each chapter is rated out of ten for difficulty, obscenity, general mindblowing brilliance, and beauty of language.

The first chapter, Telemachus, features Stephen, a morose ex-student. The dialogue is brittle, mainly from Buck Mulligan. Breakfast is served, and an old crone delivers milk. There's some swimming, and the sea is described as snotgreen. The difficulty level is 0, the obscenity level is 0, the general mindblowing brilliance is 8, and the beauty of language is 7.

In Nestor, Stephen is teaching history. He has a part-time teaching job as he doesn't know what to do with his life. His pupils are eager and polite. He gets paid, and his boss gives him a letter about foot and mouth disease. The difficulty is 0, the general mindblowing brilliance is 8, the obscenity level is 0, and the beauty of language is 7.

Proteus is a challenging chapter with a difficulty level of 9. The Stream of Consciousness starts, and it's both stunningly beautiful and mindblowing. There's some nosepicking and urination, so the obscenity level is 2. The general mindblowing brilliance and beauty of language are both 10.

Calypso jumps back to breakfast time and enters the mind of Leopold Bloom. There's a lot of ordinary activity described in detail, which some may find obscene. The difficulty level is 5, the general mindblowing brilliance is 5, the obscenity level is 8, and the beauty of language is 3.

The Lotus Eaters is a tedious chapter. Bloom visits a chemist and a public bath. We get a lot of word association and mental flotsam from his brain. The difficulty level is 4, the obscenity level is 4, the general mindblowing brilliance is 2, and the beauty of language is 2.

Hades is another chapter that the reviewer is not a fan of. It's mostly inside Bloom's brain, full of Readers Digest tips and quips. The Homeric parallels are there, but it's still a bit boring. The difficulty level is 3, the obscenity level is 2, the general mindblowing brilliance is 2, and the beauty of language is 3.

Aeolus is yet another tiresome chapter full of huffy geezers sniping at each other. The difficulty level is 5, the obscenity level is 0, the general mindblowing brilliance is 2, and the beauty of language is 3.

Overall, Ulysses is a challenging but rewarding read. It's a masterpiece that requires careful attention and multiple readings to fully appreciate.

Reading Finnegans Wake offers a markedly distinct experience compared to reading Ulysses. However, it does draw one's thoughts back, in a riverine manner, to this work, perhaps the single richest and most rereadable book in the English language. Shakespeare's corpus serves as an analogue; one can continuously revisit it, digging and unearthing the rarest minerals, gems, fossils, strange stones, and fresh human bones. Even after a dozen readings, one can always sense the newness.

Although I am currently reading the Wake, I have once again been daydreaming of Bloom, Dedalus, Molly, Blazes Boylan, the Citizen, Gerty MacDowell, Buck Mulligan, The Man in the Macintosh, the winds blowing through the offices of the Freeman's Journal, Circe's phantasmagoria, and Hamlet. There have been wandering rocks, ships amast, and Osip Mandelstam's "Insomnia. Homer. Taut Sails... To an alien land, like a phalanx of cranes - foam of the gods on the heads of the kings - where do you sail? what would the things of Troy be to you, Achaeans, without Helen?" (or Penelope, Molly, or Anna Livia Plurabelle who have children everywhere), or the sea, or Homer, all moving by love's glow and the black sea thundering its oratory. Lying down among rocks or submerging in shoals to ponder the visible and the invisible and the sun spinning round one infinite day only, time halts.

It is a pity that so many people consider this book unreadable or unendurable, or that there is not enough time for such books. Time is already laid out, and everything has already happened and will happen again. But still, the moment of each meeting is sweet. Return to books like these, take on books like these, and live with them. Homer is still alive, and so is Joyce, and life is too similar to these books not to read them while one is able. Say yes.

The used bookstore I frequent is run by a gregarious and erudite gentleman.

My short visits often turn into long discussions about various topics such as literary criticism, Heidegger, childbirth, strip clubs in Des Moines, and everything under the sun.

Recently, for the 100th time, I asked him about "Ulysses". He had read it, but in a way that eyes touching every word might not fully count as "reading".

He picked it up in high school and didn't understand much. His motive was "hubris", which was fair enough.

These stories about "Ulysses" are not rare. Sean Latham lists reasons to read it, but even he admits that devoted Joyce scholars question it from time to time.

I picked up "Ulysses" in February, partly out of hubris but mostly out of curiosity. I wanted to continue with Stephen Dedalus and the colorful cast of Dublin.

At first, I understood Stephen, but then the trapdoors opened and I was thrown into the lap of Leopold Bloom.

Bloom's episodes were filled with a pure, innocent, and radiant energy that I couldn't integrate into my idea of a novel. I thought a lot about his life and movement within the city.

Looking back at the historical narrative of the publication of "Ulysses", it was a wild ride. Shakespeare and Company and Sylvia Beach played important roles.

Joyce was humble in their meeting. He fought against the banning of his work. I'm fascinated by everything it has gone through.

I like "Ulysses" for many reasons. Bloom is a big part of it. I'll bring in the opinions of literary scholars to help me.

Jorge Luis Borges discussed the variety of viewpoints in the book as a point of attraction. The style of "Ulysses" is unique, and sometimes elements seem like nonsense.

My favorite episode is "Ithaca". Joyce called it the "ugly duckling" and his "favorite episode". I couldn't disagree more with the former and agree more with the latter.

"Penelope" is also an interesting episode. Molly's stream of consciousness mixed with softcore-ish erotica was ground-breaking at the time.

The general reception of "Ulysses" varies. Some big names love it, while others are against it.

It doesn't matter whether you like it or not. What matters is how you react to it. We should ask the important question of "Why?" when interacting with literature.

In conclusion, "Ulysses" is a complex and fascinating book that has had a significant impact on literature.

No. Because my parents never did a thing like naming me after this novel.

I have always wondered why some people have names that are directly related to a particular novel or piece of literature.

It seems like a unique and interesting way to give a name, but it's not something that my parents chose to do.

Maybe they had other reasons for choosing my name, or perhaps they just didn't think of using a name from a novel.

Either way, I am who I am, and my name is a part of that.

I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything by not having a name that's inspired by a book.

In fact, I kind of like the idea that my name is unique and not shared by many others.

It makes me stand out in a way, and I'm proud of that.

So while I may not have a name like those in novels, I'm still happy with the name that my parents gave me.

5 stars because it's a work of genius, so everyone says. It seems that this book has received widespread acclaim for its outstanding quality and innovative style.

4 stars because it has so many deep literary and classical references that to say one understood the book is like saying one is very well educated. The author's use of these references adds depth and complexity to the story, making it a challenging but rewarding read for those with a passion for literature.

3 stars because the words, strung together in a stream-of-consciousness mellifluous, onomatopoeic way, read just beautifully. The language in this book is truly a work of art, with the author's unique writing style creating a vivid and immersive reading experience.

2 stars because it was boring as hell. I just couldn't care less about the characters. I just wanted them to get on with whatever they were doing and have Joyce interfere in their lives with his references, his poetry, and his mellifluous whathavewehere considerably less. For some readers, the book may lack the excitement and engagement they are looking for, and the constant use of literary devices can become tiresome.

1 star because I had to give it up. It got wet when I dropped it in the bath and the pages stuck together when I dried it out. Since it wasn't exactly cheap to start with and there wasn't another copy in the island bookshop (mine), I had no choice but to give it up. This is a rather unfortunate incident that prevented the reviewer from continuing to read the book. However, it also shows that sometimes external factors can have an impact on our reading experience.

Or at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. This statement implies that the reviewer's opinion may not be completely objective and that they are perhaps a bit reluctant to admit that they didn't fully enjoy the book.

Or it would have been if I hadn't had the audio book. This suggests that the reviewer was able to continue experiencing the book through the audio version, which may have provided a different perspective and enhanced their enjoyment of the story.

Reviewed 28 May, 2011

I am going to read it more times, wait for a few years, and then, perhaps, I can say something.

This is the book that one must read. And it is not just a book; it transcends any classification. It is a work that seems to hold within it a world of mysteries and profound insights.

As I turn its pages, I feel a sense of wonder and curiosity. Each sentence seems to be carefully crafted, as if the author is trying to convey something beyond the ordinary.

I find myself getting lost in its words, imagining the scenes and characters that come to life before my eyes.

This book has the power to touch the soul and make one think deeply about life, love, and the human condition. It is a treasure that I will cherish and return to again and again.

I look forward to the day when I can truly understand its essence and share my thoughts and feelings about it with others.

James Joyce's Ulysses has long been regarded as a literary classic. Written between 1914 and 1921 and published in 1922, it has sparked countless discussions and debates around the world. In fact, one of my copies features the landmark pleading in the United States District Court decision by Hon. John M. Woolsey on December 6, 1933, which lifted the ban on Ulysses.

I have a deep affection for this book, which chronicles the meanderings of life in and around Dublin over a 24-hour period on June 16, 1904. We accompany Stephen Dedalus, Leopold Bloom, and Molly Bloom. The structure of the book is truly magical, as it parallels Homer's Odyssey. Leopold Bloom and his wife, Molly Bloom, are intended to be the modern-day equivalents of Telemachus and Penelope. The book is divided into three parts: Book I – The Telemachiad (episodes 1-3), Book II – The Odyssey (episodes 4-15), and Book III – The Nostos (episodes 16-18).

Ulysses is replete with symbolism, with its many nuances and layers unfolding throughout this 24-hour period in Dublin. There are numerous issues that emerge within the pages of this glorious book. I firmly believe that it holds even more meaning with each reading, with the underlying theme being one of a sense of justice. As a result, I may have to join the Bloomsday Club and read it once again on June 16th, preferably in Dublin.

**"Ulysses": A Literary Masterpiece**

"Ulysses" by James Joyce is truly a tour-de-force. It presents a complex and challenging reading experience that demands the reader's full attention and engagement. The book is divided into three parts - Telemachia, Odyssey, and Nostos - and contains eighteen chapters, all of which have a connection to Homer's "Odyssey".

The story follows Leopold Bloom, Stephen Dedalus, and Molly Bloom over the course of a single day, June 16, 1904, in Dublin. Each chapter is filled with rich language, symbolism, and allusions, making it a dense and difficult read. However, the rewards of persevering through the text are great.

Joyce's use of the "stream of consciousness" technique in the final chapter, "Penelope", is a revolutionary innovation in literature. It allows the reader to experience Molly's thoughts and feelings in a direct and immediate way, as if we are inside her mind. The lack of punctuation in her monologue adds to the sense of chaos and fluidity, emulating the natural flow of thought.

Despite its difficulties, "Ulysses" is a book that has been loved and respected by many writers, including Orwell, Nabokov, and Faulkner. It is a map of Dublin, a celebration of Irish culture, and a profound exploration of the human condition. It is a book that challenges us to think, to feel, and to expand our understanding of what literature can be.

"He puesto tantos enigmas y puzzles que van a mantener ocupados a los catedráticos durante siglos debatiendo sobre lo que yo quería decir, y esta es la única manera de asegurarme la inmortalidad." James Joyce truly achieved immortality with this remarkable work.

As I approach the end of this approximately 5-aya reading process, I actually feel a sense of relief. Because at the beginning, I had a really hard time. The book's unique style, language, and subject matter are each tiring, and on top of that, its volume is also large; it can drive a person to despair. During this time, when the people around me saw that I was having difficulties, sometimes they said,

"Maybe this book is beautiful in its original language."

There were times when I adopted this idea. Nevertheless, it is thanks to Nevzat Erkmen that I did not give up on my reading enthusiasm. He did not attempt to translate such a difficult text only by being faithful to its original; he also made this text suitable for the nature of the Turkish language. If there is a "rural spirit" in the original text, he translated it with the Turkish rural spirit, and he converted the word games in the original text into Turkish word games; the most memorable example is; "The happiest colors are purple and red because like 'MorAl'."

If archaic, obsolete, and marginalized words are preferred in the original text, he also found and used such words in the Turkish text. Therefore, I can say in my mind that perhaps other than reading Ulysses, reading Nevzat Erkmen will remain.

I also want to thank my friends who I think encouraged me by clicking the "like" button in every situation update during this difficult process. I can't help but admire those who read Ulysses, who understand it and read it analytically; even those who write long reviews about it.

I can say that I have read Ulysses, I can claim it.

But I can't say that I have understood Ulysses. Yet. And just like in many other books.

Are you ready for it? Are you sure? Okay, well here it is!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuULcV...

I finished Ulysses! It took Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay 7 weeks to climb to the top of Mt. Everest. It took me 5 weeks to conquer Mt. Ulysses. After I finished, I threw the book on the table, ran out the door, down Kelly Drive, through the art museum circle, ran up the stairs, started punching at the air and raised my fists in victory!! And the world reJoyced!

Okay, so I didn’t really do that, but I did a little victory dance. It looked like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1kVX8...

*******

To prepare for this journey, I consulted many on-line resources that provided the fundamentals I would need for comprehending this beast of a novel. A friend loaned me his copy of the erudite Heffernan lectures from the “great courses” series. I procured a reading buddy to accompany me on the expedition, acquired a copy of the novel, got lots of rest and had a good, hearty meal, then began my trek.

We got off to a quick start. The weather was lovely, supplies were plentiful, and the Irishman we brought along for the journey was amusing. However, halfway through the expedition, I began to tire. My reading partner could wait for me no longer, so he took off for the summit alone, leaving me with the onus of finding the wherewithal to finish this book on my own.

That fucking Irishman started getting on my nerves and my enthusiasm wavered. Yet I continued climbing. At times I thought I was losing my mind. At other times I marveled at how eloquently he spoke about such tasteless things as taking a crap, masturbating in public, having a pissing contest:

“The trajectories of their, first sequent, then simultaneous, urinations were dissimilar: Bloom’s longer, less irruent (is that even a word?), in the incomplete form of the bifurcated penultimate alphabetical letter who in his ultimate year at High School (1880) had been capable of attaining the point of greatest altitude against the whole concurrent strength of the institution, 210 scholars: Stephen’s higher, more sibilant, who in the ultimate hours of the previous day had augmented by diuretic consumption an insistent vesical pressure.”

Ya don’t say.

Somehow I found the resolve to push through all of the nonsense and concentrate on what it is that makes this book a classic: brilliant writing. There is no doubt that James Joyce was a master of his craft. Jimmy, my man. And believe it or not, I’m actually looking forward to reading the rest of his oeuvre (well, minus Finnegan’s Wake. Fuuuuck that).

If you’d like to read an actual awesome review of this novel, may I direct you to s.penkevich’s: http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/.... He kicked my ass in reading (and reviewing).

Potato.