The Completion of Ulysses

NOTE: For this final post, I have decided to dispense with the episode summaries of Book III, which can be found online. I recommend sites such as Wikipedia, Gradesaver, and Sparknotes for useful, though not authoritative summaries.

“Ulysses is not an easy book to read or to understand. But there has been much written about it, and in order properly to approach the consideration of it it is advisable to read a number of other books which have now become its satellites. The study of Ulysses is, therefore, a heavy task.” –Judge John M. Woolsey, writing in 1933, after his historic decision to lift the Federal ban on Ulysses.

Last night, Terry and I were sitting in the room of our house we refer to as the studio. She was at the computer, working on her own blog, and I was sitting in the chair across from her, reading. Even though she was tired and hard at work, she still appeared to be having a lot more fun than I was at that moment. Unlike me, she wasn’t reading Ulysses. Unlike me, she hadn’t spent the past six nights–a total of some eighteen to twenty hours–wrestling with the most challenging novel ever written, which also happened to be the book with which I chose to begin The 100 Best Novels Project.

“Am I crazy for starting this project?” I asked, setting my book aside for the night.

“Yes,” she said, smiling, “but I’m proud of you.”

Her words provided the timely encouragement I so desperately needed in my darkest hour. With three chapters left to go, I had yet to complete the first novel in my 100Best Novels Project and already I was questioning my decision to commit myself to such an ambitious undertaking. I was frustrated with James Joyce and his accursed masterpiece of modern literature. I was shamelessly casting flirtatious glances at my copy of The Great Gatsby, the book lying in wait for me upon my completion of Ulysses. I longed to hold the slender, sexy volume in my hands and run my eyes over its sensually uncomplicated prose. Feeling jilted, I was entertaining malicious thoughts of throwing Ulysses into the fireplace and sentencing the novel to a fiery death, all the while laughing maniacally as charred bits of paper fluttered up the chimney. Worse, I considered abandoning the project altogether, like so many prior endeavors to which I thought I was committed.

To use a cliche sports metaphor, reading Ulysses was like going twelve rounds with the reigning heavyweight champ. Though I was fighting outside of my weight class, I felt I could hold my ground on heart and determination alone. In no time, James Joyce had me on the ropes with a barrage of quick body blows and uppercuts to my intellect. It was all I could do to keep my guard up and make feeble attempts at landing counter punches. Before I knew it, I was on the mat awaiting the ten count. Just then, words of encouragement from my supporters echoed in my grateful ears and gave me strength. I rose to my feet a determined man, swinging with everything I could muster. I hung in there, I kept my feet moving and my head down, and I staged a valiant comeback.

I finished Ulysses with a sense of relief, but also with a sense of accomplishment–a sense of redemption, even. At long last, I had read the one book that had plagued me as a reader more than any other, the one book I had picked up and set down more times that I care to admit. Reading the final words of Molly Bloom’s soliloquy, I felt instilled with a sense of belonging. I now numbered among the brave souls who refused to back down from the tyrannical pen of the Irish master.

Did reading Ulysses make me a better reader? Maybe. Am I a smarter person for having read it? No. Will I read it again? I don’t know. Am I glad I read it? Definitely. Ulysses tested me in more ways and made me experience more emotion–from depression to euphoria-- than any other work of fiction ever has or ever will. More so than any other book, Ulysses made think about the ways in which literature can influence the world. Few books have pushed the limits of literary conventions and the sensibilities of its contemporaries as did Ulysses. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I can think of no other piece of literature that explores more realms of mankind’s world than does Ulysses.

Come to think of it, Ulysses does all the things great literature is supposed to do, which is why it deserves a top spot on anybody’s list of great novels.