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There were parts of this book that I wanted to hate. Joyce is just such a damn good writer though. My stream-of-consciousness phase has come and gone (I still love Mrs. Dalloway though), but the way Joyce weaves motifs and plot points into the stream of consciousness of the continually changing narrator gives the narration a fugal feel. So some chapters were a bit of a drag, but the Circe chapter is worth the price of admission alone. I felt like some parts were a little cynical, but also a very funny book overall. To make a jazz analogy, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man : Giant Steps, Ulysses : A Love Supreme, Finnegan's Wake : Impressions.