Because people often refer to Joyce as the Head Modernist In Charge, and I dispute that. I appreciate his talent, certainly, but I think Woolf gave more to the genre, and to literature in general.

Ah. This is where it helps to not give a damn about classifying them; I love them both. Where Maysa says Joyce's linear stuff goes over her head, I can honestly say that what goes completely over mine is when people start classifying the stuff.

Because - I'm not being snarky, I really don't get it - why does that matter? I read the book or don't read it; dig it or loathe it; consider or ponder or get stoned from it, or think it's a wet mess. Or something in between.

But I can't take part in the "who's the best in the school of" conversations; I'm completely ignorant on that level.

I just read the stuff. I can't dissect it, or it loses its magic for me.

I've read some Joyce, including Ulysses (Dubliners, Finnegan's Wake, Portrait). I think he's a keystone to modern "British" literature. Ulysses may be a tough place to start with him, but I do think it is a must-read.

And I apologize for coming across as a scold upthread. I thought I smelled anti-intellectualism in some of those posts, but they don't look that way on a re-read. I'm sorry for the insinuation.

apparent pride some of y'all are exhibiting in admitting that you skipped one of the most important works of literature in the English language

Nah, that's not pride, that's just indifference. I secretly belong to the school that thinks Joyce was making fun of everyone, pulling every fifth sentence out of a random box and waiting to see how many people went 'Oh, yes, genius, sheer genius' and how many said 'Dude, what the hell are you on and why aren't you sharing?'

OK, it may be a while, but, sure. I keep having to read stuff over. Which, since I like to think I'm a bit clever, I almost never do. But he caught my attention with the legless assassins "who show no fear, except for a rumored fear of steep hills" There's one part that's made me feel weird about my Homicide thing...want to find DFW and say "Hey!"(Cause that's my hey, although the obsession discussed was M*A*S*H*)

how many said 'Dude, what the hell are you on and why aren't you sharing?'

That would be me. Please, sir, can I have some more?

And I'm damned if I can understand why erika should feel obliged to reread it on a "grown-up" level. What's wrong with just digging the words? What's wrong with a completely visceral reaction to something? Why does it also have to be cerebal?

Huh. I think I just figured out why I don't like Karlheinz Stockhausen...

legless assassins "who show no fear, except for a rumored fear of steep hills"

snerk.

'Dude, what the hell are you on and why aren't you sharing?'

That would be my overarching opinion of Joyce. To correlate it to another form of art, it's why I'm not a huge fan of Pink Floyd. In both cases, I can understand the technicalities and the whys of their status in the canon of seminal artists & works, but I myself cannot enter the headspace that would allow me to comprehend and enjoy it.

(pssst, juliana, I'm not a Pink Floyd fan either, except for "Granchester Meadows" and "Comfortably Numb" and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond"...)

This is where it helps to not give a damn about classifying them ... why does that matter?

Well, if you're interested in academic literary criticism (and certainly no one says you have to be), it helps to have a common language and framework for discussion.

That's why it matters to me, anyway.

'cause who gets most of Joyce's jokes other than Joyce?

Heh.