Moi Say Moi back in 2011:
Like Finnegan's Wake I've never even bothered trying to understand Ulysses when reading, but from time to time I pick it up and flip to a random page to read just for that smooth rhythm of Joyce's. I can think of no other author for whom I do such a thing. I don't know what the hell's going on and I don't give a shit; it's like loving a song when you don't really know or care what the words mean.
I've repeated this several times throughout the years in conversation whenever Joyce has come up and - unlike my recent shocking Confederacy of Dunces revelation 😲 - upon finding more of my old college papers from a million years ago, it's kind of nice to know I thought the same thing back when reading & breaking down Joyce meant actually reading & breaking down Joyce. 😜🕺📓📚

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