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qstew's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
informative
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
if beckett's "three novels" is like having a stroke over 400pgs, this is like a mushroom trip that won't end while a drunk cuckold tells you about their day. respect for the innovation and the effort put on to compose it; did it pay off thought? my answer will differ depending on the day i've had.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Infidelity, Misogyny, Sexism, Sexual content, Antisemitism, and Religious bigotry
Moderate: Alcoholism, Child death, Cursing, Death, Racial slurs, Racism, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Medical content, Grief, Death of parent, Alcohol, and Classism
Minor: Ableism, Eating disorder, Violence, Murder, and Injury/Injury detail
timmytunter's review against another edition
challenging
funny
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.25
Reading Ulysses has been one of the most challenging literary experiences I’ve undertaken, and while I respect its monumental place in the canon of Western literature, I must admit that I did not find it a particularly enjoyable experience as a whole. The novel is undeniably a landmark in terms of its innovative structure, vast creativity, and the sheer complexity of its construction. The variety of writing styles Joyce employs throughout the novel is impressive, showcasing his command over the English language in ways that few authors can match. The research and intellectual effort required to produce such a work must have been immense, and I deeply respect Joyce for his ambition and skill.
That said, my overall experience with Ulysses was marked more by frustration than pleasure. I found the content at times painfully dull, and at other times simply nauseating, with a plot that I found ponderous, trite, and tedious. As a modern parallel to Homer’s The Odyssey, Ulysses strikes me as the very opposite of its grand and epic predecessor. While I understand that Joyce’s intent was to present a more mundane, perhaps even trivial, version of the hero’s journey, I found myself questioning the purpose of this choice. The Odyssey has its own flaws, but it is still a gloriously epic adventure, full of drama and heroism. In contrast, Ulysses often left me wondering, “To what end?” But then, I suppose, what is the point of any art. This is a line of thought I don’t care to pursue any further at present, for fear of meandering off the primary object of the present book review into Joycean tangents and digressions.
However, not all was lost in this literary labyrinth. There were episodes where I did derive some enjoyment, especially when I allowed myself to step back and view the text through a more abstract lens. By metaphorically crossing my mind’s eye(s), I was able to appreciate the bizarre and often surreal nature of some of Joyce’s episodes.
One of the highlights for me was Episode 14: Oxen of the Sun. This episode, with its chronologically successive prose styles, mirrors the evolution of English writing from Chaucer to the present day. Though relatively useless as a means of advancing the plot, it was, with the aid of guides and resources, an entertaining trip through the history of the English language. Joyce’s self-confidence is on full display here as he demonstrates his proficiency in almost any writing style.
Another episode that stood out was Episode 17: Ithaca. Some of Joyce’s most beautiful prose can be found within these pages. This catechismic episode also frequently amused me with its laughably overzealous attention to detail. The passage narrating the simple act of boiling water, for instance, stretches into an absurdly complex description, as if Joyce were daring the reader to endure the tedium of such minutiae:
That said, my overall experience with Ulysses was marked more by frustration than pleasure. I found the content at times painfully dull, and at other times simply nauseating, with a plot that I found ponderous, trite, and tedious. As a modern parallel to Homer’s The Odyssey, Ulysses strikes me as the very opposite of its grand and epic predecessor. While I understand that Joyce’s intent was to present a more mundane, perhaps even trivial, version of the hero’s journey, I found myself questioning the purpose of this choice. The Odyssey has its own flaws, but it is still a gloriously epic adventure, full of drama and heroism. In contrast, Ulysses often left me wondering, “To what end?” But then, I suppose, what is the point of any art. This is a line of thought I don’t care to pursue any further at present, for fear of meandering off the primary object of the present book review into Joycean tangents and digressions.
However, not all was lost in this literary labyrinth. There were episodes where I did derive some enjoyment, especially when I allowed myself to step back and view the text through a more abstract lens. By metaphorically crossing my mind’s eye(s), I was able to appreciate the bizarre and often surreal nature of some of Joyce’s episodes.
One of the highlights for me was Episode 14: Oxen of the Sun. This episode, with its chronologically successive prose styles, mirrors the evolution of English writing from Chaucer to the present day. Though relatively useless as a means of advancing the plot, it was, with the aid of guides and resources, an entertaining trip through the history of the English language. Joyce’s self-confidence is on full display here as he demonstrates his proficiency in almost any writing style.
Another episode that stood out was Episode 17: Ithaca. Some of Joyce’s most beautiful prose can be found within these pages. This catechismic episode also frequently amused me with its laughably overzealous attention to detail. The passage narrating the simple act of boiling water, for instance, stretches into an absurdly complex description, as if Joyce were daring the reader to endure the tedium of such minutiae:
“What concomitant phenomenon took place in the vessel of liquid by the agency of fire?
The phenomenon of ebullition. Fanned by a constant updraught of ventilation between the kitchen and the chimneyflue, ignition was communicated from the faggots of precombustible fuel to polyhedral masses of bituminous coal, containing in compressed mineral form the foliated fossilised decidua of primeval forests which had in turn derived their vegetative existence from the sun, primal source of heat (radiant), transmitted through omnipresent luminiferous diathermanous ether. Heat (convected), a mode of motion developed by such combustion, was constantly and increasingly conveyed from the source of calorification to the liquid contained in the vessel, being radiated through the uneven unpolished dark surface of the metal iron, in part reflected, in part absorbed, in part transmitted, gradually raising the temperature of the water from normal to boiling point, a rise in temperature expressible as the result of an expenditure of 72 thermal units needed to raise 1 pound of water from 50° to 212° Fahrenheit.
What announced the accomplishment of this rise in temperature?
A double falciform ejection of water vapour from under the kettlelid at both sides simultaneously.
For what personal purpose could Bloom have applied the water so boiled?
To shave himself.”
In short, by penning Ulysses, James Joyce doled out the ultimate literary troll to casual reader and scholar alike.
Ulysses was a challenging read, one that I am pleased to have completed, but equally pleased to not revisit. The pleasure I usually derive from reading fiction was largely absent, as my engagement with Ulysses became a mostly academic exercise. While this is not an exercise I dislike per se, I look forward to returning to the comfort of slightly more conventional works of fiction.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Cursing, Infidelity, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Racism, Sexual content, and Antisemitism
Moderate: Alcoholism, Child death, Suicide, and Alcohol
marthadude's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
funny
mysterious
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Child death, Cursing, Death, Infidelity, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Racism, Sexism, Sexual content, Toxic relationship, Xenophobia, Antisemitism, Grief, Death of parent, Cultural appropriation, Toxic friendship, Alcohol, Colonisation, and Classism
sunn_bleach's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
"Ulysses" is about the totality of experience. For Joyce, it's the totality of a single man's day in the life. For Melville's "Moby-Dick", it's not just whaling, but the essence of adventure and being out of one's element, then looking back on those salad days with the knowledge and pity of older age. For books like that... of course you won't get everything. It's not your life. It's Starbuck's life, or Ishmael's life, or Bloom's life.
If someone wrote a comprehensive story about your particular existence, then there would be thousands of allusions that a reader wouldn't pick up on simply because the minutiae of everyday existence is filled with nuance and even encyclopedic level of experience. So, I'll recommend that you don't look up footnotes. Just read it. Experience what you experience. Then, whatever you walk away with from "Ulysses" (and other modernist literature) will be completely and uniquely yours as you bring your own allusions and experiences to the book.
That lesson is why this is one of the top five books I have ever read in my life - and that's not even getting into the prose, the deep satire, the idiosyncratic all-caps Dublin, the allegories... life also goes on.
If someone wrote a comprehensive story about your particular existence, then there would be thousands of allusions that a reader wouldn't pick up on simply because the minutiae of everyday existence is filled with nuance and even encyclopedic level of experience. So, I'll recommend that you don't look up footnotes. Just read it. Experience what you experience. Then, whatever you walk away with from "Ulysses" (and other modernist literature) will be completely and uniquely yours as you bring your own allusions and experiences to the book.
That lesson is why this is one of the top five books I have ever read in my life - and that's not even getting into the prose, the deep satire, the idiosyncratic all-caps Dublin, the allegories... life also goes on.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexual content
Moderate: Alcoholism, Child death, Miscarriage, Violence, and Alcohol
Minor: Infidelity, Antisemitism, and Pregnancy
thanacestross's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Antisemitism, and Alcohol
edwardian_girl_next_door's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
"If Ulysses isn't worth reading, life isn't worth living." --James Joyce
While some people might dismiss this as an egotistical defense by the author, I wholeheartedly agree with Joyce. The way this novel encompasses the entirety of the human experiences, from charting bodily fluids and pregnancy to intellectual failings and paternal grief, is astounding. It is cryptic yet illuminating, frank and quirky yet immensely relatable, and all told in a variety of rollicking and satirical styles. I hesitated reviewing this at all (even though I write these for fun) because I'm not sure I could properly describe or "judge" this book. It feels like writing a review on life.
A more specific detail I found touching was the innate humanity of the characters. Leopold Bloom is an earthy, caring, humble individual; all the same we can recoil from or wonder at his underwear fetish or sadomasochistic leanings. We can sympathise with Stephen Dedalus who grieves the death of his mother and his emotionally-absent father; we can also recognise his problems are self-made and he can be a little stuck up sometimes. We can laugh at them and we can laugh with them. And all the while, their fluid personalities move in and out of hallucinations, political discourse, sexual experiences, and flashbacks, illustrating their character even more deeply. To me, writing is about communicating shared human experience, to make someone say (even decades and centuries and millennia from now): "yes, this is it! someone else feels it too. someone, somewhere, sometime, has felt it and captured it for posterity." When I can see bits of myself and my loved ones within a work like Ulysses, it makes it all the more valuable to me.
To maybe specify my point a little, here are my favourite characters, in no particular order:
1) Gertrude (Gerty) MacDowell, chapter 15 "Nausicaa" -- This might be a little controversial, but I have a soft spot for Gerty. People can dismiss her all they want for being prissy, materialistic, vain, or lewd, but I viewed her instead as a poignant commentary on female expression. Her inner monologue is filled with phrases that sound straight out of Edwardian ladies' magazines or newspaper love advice columns, but think about it: is she given any other way to express herself as a lesser-educated woman? Is it a distraction from the disability that haunts her in an unaccepting and conservative society? Is it a commentary on how the world makes women in to a commodity? Is it the tragedy of a woman turned into a product by society, herself, and eventually Bloom the salesman?Does she end up literally "selling herself short" by exposing herself to the temporary fling that Bloom represents? The charming little joys she finds in her overpriced stockings and blue ribbon buoy her seemingly hopeless life; her digs at her companions and the baby give her contradictory colour and show us a bit of who the real, unadulterated Gerty is when she is given the power to express herself. Compared with the linguistically-liberated Molly, she is a completely different being. I choose to view her as an open-ended question about female agency and expression within that capsule of Edwardian Dublin on that fateful summer day.
2) Martin Cunningham, various chapters -- Martin is a darn good friend, simple as that. He defends Bloom's dad in "Hades";he pulls Bloom away from the anti-Semitic altercation in "Cyclops" . He is kind, non-judgmental, and loyal through and through. I enjoyed every time he popped up with a supportive word and guiding hand. I would have liked to know more about him and his life.
3) Molly Bloom, particularly chapter 17 "Penelope" -- Molly has been derided and praised alike by many, many people over the years. Some are disgusted by her frank, sexual language; others find her punctuation-less outpouring refreshing and shockingly progressive. I, as a woman, loved Molly's chapter almost more than the rest of the book. From complaining about not being dressed properly to answer the mailman to lamenting the arrival of her period, it was almost as if Molly was privy to my own inner monologue. I didn't mind her winding thoughts or frequently explicit imaginings, and I felt bad for her lack of true emotional connection, even if it was a little self-imposed. She is full of inconsistent quirks, constantly going back on her prominent assertions. For instance, she ultimately loves Bloom and the life they have together, but is irritated out of her mind by some of his more unusual quirks and lack of expressed affection. She contemplates leaving him with Boylan, then fiercely defends him against what she believes to be the 'bad lot' he's fallen in with. That, to me, is the hallmark of any close relationship, romantic or otherwise. The chapter's intense realism struck a deep chord with me. While none of this is an excuse to cheat on your spouse, it offers Molly's reasoning that, honestly, makes sense. She is the climactic and fascinating ending to a rollercoaster ride of a novel -- in many ways, she is the other half of Bloom that we have been missing all day.
Honourable mention to Simon Dedalus, Stephen's dad, for using the most interesting blasphemes and curses I have ever read.
If you are considering reading Ulysses, strap in for a long one. Although other life circumstances got in the way, it took me about seven months to finish this book. A lot of patience and dedication is needed. I would recommend some kind of commentary to help you along the way -- I had Ulysses Annotated by Don Gifford for specific references and The Guide to James Joyce's Ulysses by Patrick Hastings for general overview. The latter certainly worked better for me! The author helps you understand what the heck is going on, along with providing bits of advice and snippets of commentary from other learned scholars to guide you in deciphering and digesting a complex masterpiece. Expect to learn a ton from whatever source you choose, from an abridged history of the Irish independence movement and cattle vocabulary to obscure operas and Shakespeare's extended family. Joyce certainly breaks the barriers between different fields of knowledge and study.
Good luck to all of you embarking on the journey! I hope you can find enjoyment even in the slow moments and end-of-chapter slogs. I think it is definitely worth the work.
While some people might dismiss this as an egotistical defense by the author, I wholeheartedly agree with Joyce. The way this novel encompasses the entirety of the human experiences, from charting bodily fluids and pregnancy to intellectual failings and paternal grief, is astounding. It is cryptic yet illuminating, frank and quirky yet immensely relatable, and all told in a variety of rollicking and satirical styles. I hesitated reviewing this at all (even though I write these for fun) because I'm not sure I could properly describe or "judge" this book. It feels like writing a review on life.
A more specific detail I found touching was the innate humanity of the characters. Leopold Bloom is an earthy, caring, humble individual; all the same we can recoil from or wonder at his underwear fetish or sadomasochistic leanings. We can sympathise with Stephen Dedalus who grieves the death of his mother and his emotionally-absent father; we can also recognise his problems are self-made and he can be a little stuck up sometimes. We can laugh at them and we can laugh with them. And all the while, their fluid personalities move in and out of hallucinations, political discourse, sexual experiences, and flashbacks, illustrating their character even more deeply. To me, writing is about communicating shared human experience, to make someone say (even decades and centuries and millennia from now): "yes, this is it! someone else feels it too. someone, somewhere, sometime, has felt it and captured it for posterity." When I can see bits of myself and my loved ones within a work like Ulysses, it makes it all the more valuable to me.
To maybe specify my point a little, here are my favourite characters, in no particular order:
1) Gertrude (Gerty) MacDowell, chapter 15 "Nausicaa" -- This might be a little controversial, but I have a soft spot for Gerty. People can dismiss her all they want for being prissy, materialistic, vain, or lewd, but I viewed her instead as a poignant commentary on female expression. Her inner monologue is filled with phrases that sound straight out of Edwardian ladies' magazines or newspaper love advice columns, but think about it: is she given any other way to express herself as a lesser-educated woman? Is it a distraction from the disability that haunts her in an unaccepting and conservative society? Is it a commentary on how the world makes women in to a commodity? Is it the tragedy of a woman turned into a product by society, herself, and eventually Bloom the salesman?
2) Martin Cunningham, various chapters -- Martin is a darn good friend, simple as that. He defends Bloom's dad in "Hades";
3) Molly Bloom, particularly chapter 17 "Penelope" -- Molly has been derided and praised alike by many, many people over the years. Some are disgusted by her frank, sexual language; others find her punctuation-less outpouring refreshing and shockingly progressive. I, as a woman, loved Molly's chapter almost more than the rest of the book. From complaining about not being dressed properly to answer the mailman to lamenting the arrival of her period, it was almost as if Molly was privy to my own inner monologue. I didn't mind her winding thoughts or frequently explicit imaginings, and I felt bad for her lack of true emotional connection, even if it was a little self-imposed. She is full of inconsistent quirks, constantly going back on her prominent assertions. For instance, she ultimately loves Bloom and the life they have together, but is irritated out of her mind by some of his more unusual quirks and lack of expressed affection. She contemplates leaving him with Boylan, then fiercely defends him against what she believes to be the 'bad lot' he's fallen in with. That, to me, is the hallmark of any close relationship, romantic or otherwise. The chapter's intense realism struck a deep chord with me. While none of this is an excuse to cheat on your spouse, it offers Molly's reasoning that, honestly, makes sense. She is the climactic and fascinating ending to a rollercoaster ride of a novel -- in many ways, she is the other half of Bloom that we have been missing all day.
Honourable mention to Simon Dedalus, Stephen's dad, for using the most interesting blasphemes and curses I have ever read.
If you are considering reading Ulysses, strap in for a long one. Although other life circumstances got in the way, it took me about seven months to finish this book. A lot of patience and dedication is needed. I would recommend some kind of commentary to help you along the way -- I had Ulysses Annotated by Don Gifford for specific references and The Guide to James Joyce's Ulysses by Patrick Hastings for general overview. The latter certainly worked better for me! The author helps you understand what the heck is going on, along with providing bits of advice and snippets of commentary from other learned scholars to guide you in deciphering and digesting a complex masterpiece. Expect to learn a ton from whatever source you choose, from an abridged history of the Irish independence movement and cattle vocabulary to obscure operas and Shakespeare's extended family. Joyce certainly breaks the barriers between different fields of knowledge and study.
Good luck to all of you embarking on the journey! I hope you can find enjoyment even in the slow moments and end-of-chapter slogs. I think it is definitely worth the work.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Cursing, Infidelity, Sexual content, Torture, and Antisemitism
Moderate: Alcoholism, Child death, Suicide, Grief, Death of parent, and Pregnancy
Minor: Racism, Excrement, and Murder
metweedle's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Cursing and Sexual content
Moderate: Alcoholism, Antisemitism, and Alcohol
iridium's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
funny
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Child death, Infidelity, Antisemitism, Alcohol, and Colonisation
Moderate: Medical content and Death of parent
Minor: Racial slurs and Suicide