One reason Joyce's novels may be less popular today is his view of Catholicism is now somewhat cliche. He was steeped in a somewhat distorted Catholic theology and tradition, embellishing the darkness of Death, Judgment, and Hell. Heaven was hardly to be believed, and incompatible with pleasure. I truly enjoy his epiphanies of beauty, but I often think, "No wonder the author lost his faith." (Though I guess that is up for debate...?) Another reason may be his tremendous stylistic influence. An author like Elena Ferrante starts her Trilogy from the point of view of a small child with limited language like Part 1 of Joyce's Portrait; when I'm reading Joyce I'm constantly reminded of other authors only to realize in fact they weren't born yet and were influenced by him, not the other way around. Poor is the pupil who does not surpass the master. Maybe it's a temporary eclipse.
There is something ever soft and young about one's child, it doesn't hurt to remember it, especially when they may be older, neither soft or young anymore.
I'm not sure I would ever have read Ulysses if it hadn't been a class assignment, but I'm very very glad I did. I consider it a highlight of my reading life. However, I have never read it again, partly because it would be such a big investment of time, which is a very limited resource compared to what I would like to read (not to mention other activities).
The Wake, though--no. I read a few pages and felt like I was losing my mind. Never touched it again and don't plan to. Faulkner, no advocate of clarity and simplicity, said it was a case of a genius electrocuted by the divine fire.
The poem strikes me as a fairly near miss. Appealing in some ways, but, for instance, I don't care for "Time's wan wave."
Thank you for your defense. Experiencing Ulysses & Finnegan's Wake & the short stories is a highlight of any serious reader's life. Those who think otherwise don't think. For themselves, anyway. There is little joy in the criticism of denial. Loving Joyce, Proust, and Woolf does not mean one can't love Bukowski or Harrison. Come to the reading table with joy, with reverence, with respect. Oh, humility and deep listening help, too.
I hesitate to second any opinion here as I know when I'l outclassed but absolutely my thoughts. From the epitome of the literary world to being largely ignored may be a result of our reluctance to explore anything arduous particularly if the profile of the author resembles all that is despised today. The work becomes secondary to the writer: what a loss.
I meant Ferrante's My Brilliant Friend (first of her four Neopolitan novels).
I love this sweet, fragile poem. Thank you.
One reason Joyce's novels may be less popular today is his view of Catholicism is now somewhat cliche. He was steeped in a somewhat distorted Catholic theology and tradition, embellishing the darkness of Death, Judgment, and Hell. Heaven was hardly to be believed, and incompatible with pleasure. I truly enjoy his epiphanies of beauty, but I often think, "No wonder the author lost his faith." (Though I guess that is up for debate...?) Another reason may be his tremendous stylistic influence. An author like Elena Ferrante starts her Trilogy from the point of view of a small child with limited language like Part 1 of Joyce's Portrait; when I'm reading Joyce I'm constantly reminded of other authors only to realize in fact they weren't born yet and were influenced by him, not the other way around. Poor is the pupil who does not surpass the master. Maybe it's a temporary eclipse.
There is something ever soft and young about one's child, it doesn't hurt to remember it, especially when they may be older, neither soft or young anymore.
I'm not sure I would ever have read Ulysses if it hadn't been a class assignment, but I'm very very glad I did. I consider it a highlight of my reading life. However, I have never read it again, partly because it would be such a big investment of time, which is a very limited resource compared to what I would like to read (not to mention other activities).
The Wake, though--no. I read a few pages and felt like I was losing my mind. Never touched it again and don't plan to. Faulkner, no advocate of clarity and simplicity, said it was a case of a genius electrocuted by the divine fire.
The poem strikes me as a fairly near miss. Appealing in some ways, but, for instance, I don't care for "Time's wan wave."
Thank you for your defense. Experiencing Ulysses & Finnegan's Wake & the short stories is a highlight of any serious reader's life. Those who think otherwise don't think. For themselves, anyway. There is little joy in the criticism of denial. Loving Joyce, Proust, and Woolf does not mean one can't love Bukowski or Harrison. Come to the reading table with joy, with reverence, with respect. Oh, humility and deep listening help, too.
Do we have any idea who the giver of the flower might be?
I hesitate to second any opinion here as I know when I'l outclassed but absolutely my thoughts. From the epitome of the literary world to being largely ignored may be a result of our reluctance to explore anything arduous particularly if the profile of the author resembles all that is despised today. The work becomes secondary to the writer: what a loss.