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lil_juulnieb 's review for:
Ulysses
by James Joyce
Did the author of this review enjoy reading Ulysses?
No, generally no, but sometimes yes.
Does the author of this review recommend reading Ulysses?
Yes, generally yes, but sometimes no.
What did the author of this review feel when he finished Ulysses?
yes, you've finally finished this long and boring mundane slog through the muck and mire of incomprehensible syntax and pages upon pages of ununderstanding without a clue as to what is actually happening with the little plot there is and so you begin to think real hard like real hard about this book and whether you enjoyed it or not but you did not and no uou did not but you sometimes did and you get to thinking about the beginning which was intriguing and encouraging but also confusing but you liked it then for a little while but somewhere in the middle you lost your way and it became too difficult and too unclear and too frustrating and you had to slog through myriad pages of meandering nothingness and you hated it but you kept on keeping despite growing to hate it because other people think it's the greatest book of all time and so maybe you're stupid yes or you're not trying hard enough yes and then all of a sudden you're mesmerised by a flash of brilliance rising out of the dirty smogtax and you can't help but think this is where it's finally going to get good yes and you'll understand why other people love it so much but instead it just gets boring and dull and difficult again and so you're sad and angry and frustrated and now you're googling bad reviews because you hate Joyce and his incessant pretentious linguistic snobbery and you cant help but agree with everyone who crucifies it as pretentious and overwrought yes and you're sure now that all those five star reviews are exclusively published by masochists and psuedo-intellectuals the latter of whom want to have a wank to their superiority and the former to their inverse but then you keep on keeping because you made it this far yes and because well it was brilliant once so maybe it could get brilliant again and maybe it really is brilliant no and im just too stupid yes but then it doesn't get better or even so much as interesting for a long time and so you don't pick it up for a few days but then you do because it's supposedly a masteryes and you read on and it's still boring but a bit more bearable now and then fraaaapooooooww!! another flash of brilliance and you laugh and you smile and you think to yourself Joyce you dirty old wonderful bastard bitch cunt maybe I do love you and you do a little dance in your head because yes you finally understand what it's all about but then you keep on keeping and there's still nothing there nothing at all you don't understand the sentences and you're not sure if they can be understood but it's much worse this time around because it's so much darker when a light goes out then it would've been had it never shone but you keep reading anyway because Joyce could've written the best book you've ever read but he simply chose not to do it the dirty bastard prick cunt bastard how dare he and why instead he made this brick of nothingness and but so you keep at it and it's boring and difficult and frustrating but then you can't help but think that that's kind of what life is like because sometimes when you discover a new song or watched a good movie or read a book that's actually enjoyable and not this long and boring demoralizing slog then there's this little flash of happiness and lightness where the 9-5 doesn't seem that unendurable anymore and the universe a little less cold and uncaring and the loneliness a little less heavy and the grief looms less and then you go on because time must go on and you are a child of time and so you must too and then it becomes dull and boring and bland again but then so another thing happens that might keep you happy for a little while and then again sometime in the near future but those moments are few and far in between and you're kind of always wishing that there were more of them because you deep down inside know that life is beautiful even though you can't always see it but at least the flashes come sometimes and keep you going for a little while but maybe the flashes are blinding because maybe everything is a little flash if you really look at it like really look at it because Bloom wiping his ass with a newspaper is actually pretty poignant and funny if you stand still and consider it and the heaventree of stars hanging with humid nightblue fruit is always there waiting for you to appreciate it and it must be pretty boring and dull and difficult for it too to be waiting around all the time for you to stand still long enough to appreciate it and so maybe you did the book a disservice by glancing over the mundane in search of the brilliant because why maybe they are inseparable and maybe there's deeper beauty hidden within the everyday then there is without the fleeting and so maybe it's your entire attitude to life that's misguided and you should start looking up at the heaventree a little more often and so yeah the book is a long and boring slog but maybe just maybe that makes it the most honest book you've ever read and maybe all the books that were far and far more enjoyable and understandable are a little bit dishonest because yes life is beautiful sometimes but it isn't always and so maybe those books are really just selling fleeting fantasies and no one ever really has lived happily ever after but everybody lives very dull and bored and difficult and sometimes happy but very sometimes and little and so you close the book after the final page and you think what? what was that all about? and you don't know not a clue as to what it all meant and so you can't help but think that that is all it means that nothing really means anything if you don't give it any meaning but that everything has meaning if you want it to and that meaning is such an arbitrary and untrustworthy thing that it doesn't matter whether there's a singular interpretation definition category but that all that matters is what you interpret it as and that that's fine and that life is out there written endlessly upon the sky and the ground and the office desk and the bedroom walls and the coffee and how really beautiful it is that everything is life and nothing is not life and that may be just the most beautiful thing ever and so you begin to think about how to rate the Odyssey you've just been on and you realise you kind of can't because an Odyssey is never a straight path but then a valley then a cave then a mountain and then a mineral spring and all our Odyssey's never really end because you're always moving through time and always changing through life and so how do you rate something that's so enigmatic and fleeting and elusive and neverending you can't so it doesn't matter whether you give it five stars despite hating it or one star despite loving it there is no honest rating because life is sometimes a five and sometimes a one and other times somewhere in between but all of that is beautiful and all of that is confusing and all of that is out there for the taking if only you say yes just say yes Yes.
No, generally no, but sometimes yes.
Does the author of this review recommend reading Ulysses?
Yes, generally yes, but sometimes no.
What did the author of this review feel when he finished Ulysses?
yes, you've finally finished this long and boring mundane slog through the muck and mire of incomprehensible syntax and pages upon pages of ununderstanding without a clue as to what is actually happening with the little plot there is and so you begin to think real hard like real hard about this book and whether you enjoyed it or not but you did not and no uou did not but you sometimes did and you get to thinking about the beginning which was intriguing and encouraging but also confusing but you liked it then for a little while but somewhere in the middle you lost your way and it became too difficult and too unclear and too frustrating and you had to slog through myriad pages of meandering nothingness and you hated it but you kept on keeping despite growing to hate it because other people think it's the greatest book of all time and so maybe you're stupid yes or you're not trying hard enough yes and then all of a sudden you're mesmerised by a flash of brilliance rising out of the dirty smogtax and you can't help but think this is where it's finally going to get good yes and you'll understand why other people love it so much but instead it just gets boring and dull and difficult again and so you're sad and angry and frustrated and now you're googling bad reviews because you hate Joyce and his incessant pretentious linguistic snobbery and you cant help but agree with everyone who crucifies it as pretentious and overwrought yes and you're sure now that all those five star reviews are exclusively published by masochists and psuedo-intellectuals the latter of whom want to have a wank to their superiority and the former to their inverse but then you keep on keeping because you made it this far yes and because well it was brilliant once so maybe it could get brilliant again and maybe it really is brilliant no and im just too stupid yes but then it doesn't get better or even so much as interesting for a long time and so you don't pick it up for a few days but then you do because it's supposedly a masteryes and you read on and it's still boring but a bit more bearable now and then fraaaapooooooww!! another flash of brilliance and you laugh and you smile and you think to yourself Joyce you dirty old wonderful bastard bitch cunt maybe I do love you and you do a little dance in your head because yes you finally understand what it's all about but then you keep on keeping and there's still nothing there nothing at all you don't understand the sentences and you're not sure if they can be understood but it's much worse this time around because it's so much darker when a light goes out then it would've been had it never shone but you keep reading anyway because Joyce could've written the best book you've ever read but he simply chose not to do it the dirty bastard prick cunt bastard how dare he and why instead he made this brick of nothingness and but so you keep at it and it's boring and difficult and frustrating but then you can't help but think that that's kind of what life is like because sometimes when you discover a new song or watched a good movie or read a book that's actually enjoyable and not this long and boring demoralizing slog then there's this little flash of happiness and lightness where the 9-5 doesn't seem that unendurable anymore and the universe a little less cold and uncaring and the loneliness a little less heavy and the grief looms less and then you go on because time must go on and you are a child of time and so you must too and then it becomes dull and boring and bland again but then so another thing happens that might keep you happy for a little while and then again sometime in the near future but those moments are few and far in between and you're kind of always wishing that there were more of them because you deep down inside know that life is beautiful even though you can't always see it but at least the flashes come sometimes and keep you going for a little while but maybe the flashes are blinding because maybe everything is a little flash if you really look at it like really look at it because Bloom wiping his ass with a newspaper is actually pretty poignant and funny if you stand still and consider it and the heaventree of stars hanging with humid nightblue fruit is always there waiting for you to appreciate it and it must be pretty boring and dull and difficult for it too to be waiting around all the time for you to stand still long enough to appreciate it and so maybe you did the book a disservice by glancing over the mundane in search of the brilliant because why maybe they are inseparable and maybe there's deeper beauty hidden within the everyday then there is without the fleeting and so maybe it's your entire attitude to life that's misguided and you should start looking up at the heaventree a little more often and so yeah the book is a long and boring slog but maybe just maybe that makes it the most honest book you've ever read and maybe all the books that were far and far more enjoyable and understandable are a little bit dishonest because yes life is beautiful sometimes but it isn't always and so maybe those books are really just selling fleeting fantasies and no one ever really has lived happily ever after but everybody lives very dull and bored and difficult and sometimes happy but very sometimes and little and so you close the book after the final page and you think what? what was that all about? and you don't know not a clue as to what it all meant and so you can't help but think that that is all it means that nothing really means anything if you don't give it any meaning but that everything has meaning if you want it to and that meaning is such an arbitrary and untrustworthy thing that it doesn't matter whether there's a singular interpretation definition category but that all that matters is what you interpret it as and that that's fine and that life is out there written endlessly upon the sky and the ground and the office desk and the bedroom walls and the coffee and how really beautiful it is that everything is life and nothing is not life and that may be just the most beautiful thing ever and so you begin to think about how to rate the Odyssey you've just been on and you realise you kind of can't because an Odyssey is never a straight path but then a valley then a cave then a mountain and then a mineral spring and all our Odyssey's never really end because you're always moving through time and always changing through life and so how do you rate something that's so enigmatic and fleeting and elusive and neverending you can't so it doesn't matter whether you give it five stars despite hating it or one star despite loving it there is no honest rating because life is sometimes a five and sometimes a one and other times somewhere in between but all of that is beautiful and all of that is confusing and all of that is out there for the taking if only you say yes just say yes Yes.