Why is it so good /lit/?

>>8663341
>hey guys, do I fit in yet? I'm smart, right? notice me

>>8663365
>i'm autistic and i'm going to let the whole wide world know about it

>>8663368
>I'm a huge fucking pleb and I've proved it here.

>>8663341
Epic, unique, vast, variety, detailed, poetic, expressive, intriguing, inspired, inspiring, challenging, fun

>>8663365
>>8663368
>>8663374
All of you are toxic to this board.

>>8663341
>“It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness...

>>8663379
>posts quote of Joyce parodying something
>thinks it's an example of Joyce's best prose
pleb

>>8663384
>Thinks said quote still isn't gorgeous

The whole book is a fucking parody you pleb. This goes for Dubliners and Portrait as well; yet they're still masterworks because Joyce is based af.

Feel free to post your own favorite quotes though if you have any

>>8663389
>So stood they both awhile in wan hope sorrowing one with other

>Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words shimmering on the dim tide.

>His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the unnumbered pebbles beats, wood sieved by the shipworm, lost Armada. Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a midden of man’s ashes. He coasted them, walking warily. A porterbottle stood up, stogged to its waist, in the cakey sand dough.

>Thither the extremely large wains bring poison of the fields, spherical potatoes and iridescent kale and onions, pearls of the earth, and red, green, yellow, brown, russet, sweet, big bitter ripe pomillated apples and strawberries fit for princes and raspberries from their canes

>Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more.

>Me sits there with his augur’s rod of ash, in borrowed sandals, by day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars.

>In long lassoes from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand, rising, flowing. My ashplant will float away. I shall wait. No, they will pass on, passing, chafing against the low rocks, swirling, passing. Better get this job over quick. Listen: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. Vehement breath of waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. In cups of rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap: bounded in barrels. And, spent, its speech ceases. It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling.

>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 fronts. 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 iniurias patiens ingemiscit. To no end gathered; vainly then released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of the moon.

>The bungholes sprang open and a huge dull flood leaked out, flowing together, winding through mudflats all over the level land, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth.

>The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

>So in the moon’s midwatches I pace the path above the rocks, in sable silvered, hearing Elsinore’s tempting flood.

I also love the lucid, compact Joycean style but you can find that everywhere.

What is your favorite chapter anons?

Mine is proteus

>these heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here

>>8663389
no it isn't gorgeous you tasteless faggot

>>8663409
fuck i hate this board

Give me a small summary and a some interesting facts about this book.I might just bump it next on my to read list

>>8663409
>>8663409

>Who made those allegations? says Alf.
>I, says Joe. I'm the alligator.

>>8663458
>>8663456

Honestly very curious to witness posted some of your favorite passages from any book