|
|
bloomsday
|
|
epitome of incomprehensibility
|
From the day when the events in Joyce's Ulysses take place--June 16, 1904. The main character is called Leopold Bloom, thus Bloomsday. There's also a part in the surrealist Circe section where Bloom, emperor president and king chairman of Ireland, commands a new Bloomusalem to be built, so there's nothing knew about forming silly puns from Bloom. It is ever flowering and fertile. Also, you can search for "Bloomsday device" on the Onion site and you'll find a short "news" item combining Joyce and Dr. Strangelove references. Insane, but in a good way. Bloomsday should be celebrated in Montreal too. And in Daisyworld, of course. (I wonder how you'd write the code for that. I'm not a really tech-ish person, myself.) In MTL, the lilacs smell very good this time of year. I don't know if limiting flower colours to black and white affects their smell. (/insert appropriate Shakespeare quote here) There, see, HTML-ish-ness! And how's that for a quick ride by epitomeboat on the stream_of_consciousness? Not exactly Joycean, but what can you do...
|
080616
|
|
... |
|
e_o_i
|
There's "nothing knew" indeed.
|
140616
|
|
... |
|
e_o_i
|
And now Bloomsday IS celebrated in Montreal! Unlike in 2008, when there'd be a few informal Irish pub events, as of the past three years there's been a yearly Bloomsday program organized by McGill university. (Because nothing says "celebration" like "academic conference." Drinking and laughing together clearly don't count.) Anyway, I'm geekishly excited because Chris Joyce, who happens to be James Joyce's great-grandnephew, is giving a free talk about "growing up Joyce" at a bookstore downtown. I saw him get up on stage briefly at Saturday's "Bloomsday Concert" - apparently, if you're related to James Joyce, people want you to put on a funny hat and glasses before they'll let you speak. It's a tough life. (Also, you know about the sexual kinks of your fourth-generation ancestors, via those James-to-Nora letters at least. That was mentioned too.)
|
140616
|
|
... |
|
e_o_i
|
At the bookstore, his turn speaking, Chris Joyce said he wondered as a kid why his parents had pictures of this distant relative around the house. Cue imitated dialogue: "If he's my uncle, why can't I see him?" then (low voice) "He's dead, son. You'll have to accept it." Something to that effect, anyway. Then laughter. Tone of voice helped; no "too soon" either, because JJ died sixty-three years ago. This Chris has a nice voice in general, a mellow friendly Irish/anglo-Montreal one. Since I've filled up my quota of falling for people merely because of their attractive accents - European accents, at least - I just said hi afterwards and asked him to sign my copy of Ulysses. He did, even though he found the idea a bit goofy. Before that, I heard the tail end of a story of another young guy - fictional this time - moving from Ireland to Montreal. He was nicknamed [blank] Dog Malloy - Plaid Dog, Bad Dog, Mad Dog, Sad Dog - at various stages of his life. It was funny and vivid, and I regret missing the first part. For some reason I thought the reading/talk/Q & A started at 6:30, not 6. And there were readings of Ulysses before that, but I was working then. I didn't go to the pub afterwards either, because I'd already gotten a free glass of wine, plus half a sandwich and some carrots. I am cheap. Or thrifty. Or shy. You decide.
|
140617
|
|
... |
|
z
|
I read Ulysses once a year, just in time for Bloomsday (usually).
|
140618
|
|
... |
|
e_o_i
|
Ah! I see. Re blather_red. I almost believed you could read Ulysses in one day; you seem to have an exceptional mind for many things. Starting or finishing on Bloomsday or otherwise, it's an interesting thing to pick up again. I started it on Monday. I haven't read it through since I was nineteen.
|
140620
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|
|