With limited reading time I am slowly savouring Ulysses. I paused before Leopold Bloom’s entrance in Episode 4: Calypso. Without gushing at such an early stage, I cannot tell you how much I am enjoying Ulysses, but if you have read it before you know how extraordinary is Joyce’s prose.
In Episode 3 Stephen is helping a student, Sargent, to comprehend algebra. For a moment he senses an echo of his own boyhood:
Like him was I, these sloping shoulders, this gracelessness. My childhood bends beside me. Too far for me to lay a hand there once or lightly. Mine is far and his secret as our eyes. Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned.
Some sections I read over and over to appreciate the writing.
To my good fortune, more advanced Ulysses readers are posting useful thoughts:The solstice in Circe.Daylight and darkness.Ulysses as an act of fiscal responsibility.