>As he lie in the darkness, contemplating the day, it dawned on him how very much like Homer's epic it had been. At least for one fateful day, 16 June 1904, Leopold Bloom had truly become the man, the adventurer immortalized in verse and celebrated throughout the ages. He had finally become--Ulysses.
Really Joyce?
>Hello, my name is James Joyce and this book is called Dubliners. It is a collection of short stories that I think nicely sum up my impressions of the good people of Dublin. Hope you enjoy!
How did this hack ever find someone willing to publish such schlock?
>He walked out of the church with his jacket collars turned up against the breeze, Finnegan's Wake was over, but how many more would there be?
>>8802544
kek
>>8802487
>His wife did not love him anymore. Maybe becuase she was The Dead.
Maybe is sounded better in original irish?
>>8802544
>As they hear the cock's crow rising above the soot encrusted roofs of Chapelizod, one by one the Finnegans wake.
Endgame of literature, my ass.
>20 years have passed since the last Compson died, but some still say if one goes to the site of the former Compson estate--now long since demolished-- while the honeysuckle is in bloom, you can still hear the sound and the fury of Benjy's cries.
>Faulkner
>not a hack
Christ, I'd rather read Goosebumps.