/lit/ - Literature

When Stephen Dedalus meets the girl/muse on the beach, I’m not the only one who read that as him stumbling upon the girl pissing on the beach. That’s what I thought the first time I read it. Then I read it a second time and still thought that a little but less so. Maybe that’s not what was happening. Then I read it for a third time for a college class and am now completely uncertain. It seems like at first that’s what he is describing but upon a closer look it doesn’t appear so. I didn’t want to bring this up in class so an not to look weird, though I know and knew then Joyce liked to write things like that. I’ve read his entire oeuvre. So did anyone else read it that way?

Under the upswelling tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in whispering water swaying and upturning coy silver fronds. Day by day: night by night: lifted, flooded and let fall. Lord, they are weary: and, whispered to, they sigh. Saint Ambrose heard it, sigh of leaves and waves, waiting, awaiting the fullness of their times, diebus ac noctibus inurias patens ingemiscit. To no end gathered: vainly then released, forth flowing, wending back: loom of the moon.

>>11430666
It's a book about Sadness :( All those words sound out the central Sad

>>11285233
There are lots of books with the same encyclopedic denseness as Ulysses (Most of Pynchon's works etc.) but as far as I'm aware there is no book which is as carefully constructed as Ulysses, not even Finnegans Wake.

I don't know how to describe the style of Ulysses, but it's such a weirdly "concrete" book, like you say it's got this sense of absolute deliberateness to every single line, just the most lucidly put together text ever written. Honestly I think it's the only book of its kind in that regard. I don't know if what I'm saying about it being "solid" or "concrete" makes sense but that's the only way I can think to put it.

>>10986227
>James Joyce: His writing is not about something. It is the thing itself.
What did he mean by this? Who is the anaphoric referent for "him" in that sentence? Who is Joyce talking about?

>sitting in a waiting area at uni
>look up from my phone
>some guy is watching a fucking John Green book review/book breakdown video

https://youtu.be/9RMZSU07gts

>>9239192
read my book

>in uni library reading Gravity's Rainbow
>girl approaches and says, "Pinecone, huh?"
>I manage to not only not stutter but also laugh and ask her what she thinks of him
>she sits down next to me and scoots close, looking at the book
>"How DO you pronounce it?"
>"Uh, Pinch-on," I say. "For the longest time I thought it was pinch-in, though."
>"Hmm," she says.
>At this point i'm thinking, whoa, 'here's a cute girl I've seen here and there, but had never known her to be literary. Fucking kickstart the conversation, man!'
>She puts a hand on the book. "Can I see it?" she says.
>"Uh, sure," I say, wondering if I should make a comment about my shitty error edition, but decide against it."
>She turns the book around in her hands, eying the spine and everything, losing my place on around page 200.
>"Pinecones, pinecones, what you do," she murmurs in a chant. "Pinecones, pinecones, how 'bout you'
>Before I can say anything she stands up with my book and walks away into the bookstacks
>I'm left speechless and I'm wondering if I should follow her
>Decide against it
>Never see her again
>Never see my book again
>mfw

>>9162929
he was a baller in profile but straight on he looked like a potato bumpkin

>blowjob

>studying in campus library with friend
>just finished four hours of latin grammar >Wheelock's and Lingua Latina rest on the table next to my copy of Ulysses
>take a break, shooting the shit with friend before starting to work on going through Ulysses again.
>girl I've seen on this library floor every day for a while now passes by, smiling
>semi-joke with friend about heading through the bookstacks over to her table to get her number
>our conversation transitions into some esoteric degenerate inside joke shit, and when my friend cracks a funny line I decide to lift my ass and rip one.
>it was a low rumbling, warm, quiet one,a GOOD one, and so I tell my friend that I did it, and he's like, "dude what the hell," because in all my four years of college I haven't farted in the lib.
>we laugh
>we laugh
>girl comes around the corner and up to me, staring at my books on the table
>I freeze. Throat dried, lip-locked, swallowing for a gulp.
>She points at book nervously. "Hey, I've seen you a couple times and it would kill me not to ask. What do you think of Joyce?"
>I stutter and begin to respond with my entry-level interpretation: "Well, I like the way he captures the minutiae of everyday life, really, and, and..."
>She helps me out by nervously bringing up the Latin. "Oh, Latin too? Wow, are you-"
>she pauses. she blinks a couple times.
>oh god
>I smell my shit fumes
>my friend is frozen and i'm trembling. The girl's brow pulls down and her lips furl in disgust. "Oh my god," she says. "I'm sorry. I gotta go."
>she storms away
>my friend shakes his head in embarassment, and to cover my ass I stand up and yell, "Wait, where are you going! It was just getting Joycean in here!"

>mfw she didn't turn out to be my Nora

this is how i feel with the obscure genre of "good literature". there are only a handful of books worth reading, four precisely.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9IinGHntTs

Joyce BTFO

>first day of my lit class
>professor does a round robin of who your favorite author is
>everybody spouts lit memes
>5 people said Hemingway
>3 or more say Jane Austen
>3 or more say Dostoyevsky
>at least 2 say the author the class is about
>one guy says Joyce
>and here's the kicker
>one guy says a tie between Pynchon and David Foster Wallace
I'm in for a wild ride.

You know it's true /lit/

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

snnnnniiiiiiffffffffffff...oh yes my dear....sssnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiffffffff....quite pungent indeed...is that....dare I say....sssssssnniff...eggs I smell?......sniff sniff....hmmm...yes...quite so my darling....sniff....quite pungent eggs yes very much so .....ssssssssssssssnnnnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiffffff....ah yes...and also....a hint of....sniff....cheese.....quite wet my dear....sniff...but of yes...this will do nicely....sniff.....please my dear....another if you please....nice a big now....

BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPFFFFFF

Oh yes...very good!....very sloppy and wet my dear....hmmmmm...is that a drop of nugget I see on the rim?...hmmmm.....let me.....let me just have a little taste before the sniff my darling.......hmmmmm....hmm..yes....that is a delicate bit of chocolate my dear....ah yes....let me guess...curry for dinner?....oh quite right I am....aren't I?....ok....time for sniff.....sssssnnnnnnniiiiiiiiffffffff.....hmmm...hhhmmmmm I see...yes....yes indeed as well curry......hmmm....that fragrance is quite noticeable....yes.....onion and garlic chutney I take it my dear?.....hmmmmm....yes quite.....

BBBBBBRRRRRRRRPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

Oh I was not expecting that…that little gust my dear….you caught me off guard…yes…so gentle it was though…hmmmm…let me taste this little one…just one small sniff…..sniff…ah….ssssssnnnnnniiiiiffffffffffff…and yet…so strong…yes…the odor….sniff sniff…hmmm….is that….sniff….hmmm….I can almost taste it my dear…..yes….just…sniff….a little whiff more if you please…..ssssssnnnnnniiiiiffffffffff…ah yes I have it now….yes quite….hhhhmmmm…delectable my dear…..quite exquisite yes…..I dare say…sniff….the most pungent one yet my dear….ssssnnnnniiiifffffffffffffffffffffff….yes….

>BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

>snnnnniiiiiiffffffffffff...oh yes my dear....sssnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiffffffff....quite pungent indeed...is that....dare I say....sssssssnniff...eggs I smell?......sniff sniff....hmmm...yes...quite so my darling....sniff....quite pungent eggs yes very much so .....ssssssssssssssnnnnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiffffff....ah yes...and also....a hint of....sniff....cheese.....quite wet my dear....sniff...but of yes...this will do nicely....sniff.....please my dear....another if you please....nice a big now....

>BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPFFFFFF

>Oh yes...very good!....very sloppy and wet my dear....hmmmmm...is that a drop of nugget I see on the rim?...hmmmm.....let me.....let me just have a little taste before the sniff my darling.......hmmmmm....hmm..yes....that is a delicate bit of chocolate my dear....ah yes....let me guess...curry for dinner?....oh quite right I am....aren't I?....ok....time for sniff.....sssssnnnnnnniiiiiiiiffffffff.....hmmm...hhhmmmmm I see...yes....yes indeed as well curry......hmmm....that fragrance is quite noticeable....yes.....onion and garlic chutney I take it my dear?.....hmmmmm....yes quite.....

>BBBBBBRRRRRRRRPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

>Oh I was not expecting that…that little gust my dear….you caught me off guard…yes…so gentle it was though…hmmmm…let me taste this little one…just one small sniff…..sniff…ah….ssssssnnnnnniiiiiffffffffffff…and yet…so strong…yes…the odor….sniff sniff…hmmm….is that….sniff….hmmm….I can almost taste it my dear…..yes….just…sniff….a little whiff more if you please…..ssssssnnnnnniiiiiffffffffff…ah yes I have it now….yes quite….hhhhmmmm…delectable my dear…..quite exquisite yes…..I dare say…sniff….the most pungent one yet my dear….ssssnnnnniiiifffffffffffffffffffffff….yes….

Why the FUCK would anyone write this in a letter??? Fucking DROPPED

What was that I just heard there. Woke me up so sudden. It was a bangish sound, like a tympany. Except. Louder it was, more crashier. Wasn't there that old saying, nothing good happens when you hear a crash the. It could've been nice. Not like you ever hear a good thing after a crash. Never get a dog after a crash or, yes, maybe, maybe like pancakes. Mushy things. Like my mother used to. She never cooked well.

>>8807456
was it a book dealing with the grammar of your native language?
y-you know you're only supposed to study foreign languages, right anon?

Anon, that post-modern view of yours is fucking cancer.

>>8690242
What is so great about dubliners. I mean yeah the last 10 pages of The Dead was great, and a lot of the short stories immerse you into the lives, thoughts and feelings of these multi-faceted characters. And I'll admit that I empathized deeply with some of the stories, and others I saw the characters portrayed in the people I talk to in my daily life, but it wasn't great, it was good. He hadn't reached the esquisite prose that joyce is praised for in his later novels, we only get a hint of it at the end.

>>8682311
>Malachi, light of my life, fire of my loins. My luck, my lack. Ma-La-Chi: The meeting of lips then the tongue that slips between but for the trapping of teeth, taken back and caged against the roof of the mouth. Ma. La. Chi. He was Buck, plain Buck in the morning, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. He was Mulligan in his yellow dressing-gown. He was Bucky at school. He was Buckle in the boat-house. But in my arms he was always Malachi. Did he have a precursor? He did, indeed he did. In point of fact, there might have been no Malachi at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial Irishman. In a princedom by the snotgreen sea. Oh when? About as many years before Malachi was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a fart-fetishist for a fancy prose style.