Sunday, July 29, 2007
It's been more than a month but I've finally completed James Joyce's Ulysses!
Yes, that massive, 690-page tome!
Reading it was tiring and time-consuming, and there were parts that were completely baffling, but it was really worth the effort ploughing through it (and getting a cold from reading too long in the Artic region that is called the Central Library).
I don't think I have ever seen such a huge attempt to revoluntionise the English language and literature before, and done with such rich wit and tongue-in-cheek humour! I think one would need a very capacious mind to be able to hold as many of the various motifs and allusions and parodies in the text together to form a coherent reading... *gazes up with anime starry eyes at scholars who have studied the text*
Hmm, while I was pushing myself towards the ending of Ulysses (which is really more like a beginning), the whole world was engaged in reading another immensely thick book that tells the story of a boy with supernatural powers who is resurrected from death and destroys a serpent monster and in the end everyone lives happily ever after. No, I am not talking about the Bible.
It irked me somewhat that kids half my age were polishing off 700 pages of dense prose within a day while I had been struggling with Ulysses for more than a month. Ah well, at least I can comfort myself with the thought - "But hey, it is Ulysses, you know..." and I do pride myself on giving due attention to the words on the page.
I've never quite understood the world's fascination with Harry Potter. I'm not much of a fantasy fan and I have not even read LOTR and I do not have any intention to do so. Yes, yes, I know you're going to tell me I've missed out on the greatest masterpiece of literature written in the history of all mankind since the ancient Greek civilisation but I can just as well say the same to you about Ulysses. So I dare you to be indignant.
Apart from my lack of interest in fantasy fiction, the other reason why I'm not reading Harry Potter is that the whole enterprise feels too gimmicky. I'm not impressed when J K Rowling claims that her books are not "children's books" because they are dark and why's that the case? Because characters die in her books. Remember when we were in secondary school and our teachers told us not to use death and suicide as easy ways to bring about angst and closure in our compositions? They should go tell J K Rowling that making your characters pop off like flies does not necessarily equate a mature piece of writing.
But I really don't have to right to criticise her works so much since I haven't even read a single Harry Potter book. I know I ought to read the books first so that I can decide for myself whether they are long-winded, badly-controlled 21st-century versions of what Henry James, referring to the Victorian novel, calls "baggy monsters", or if they are long because they are complex and nuanced in plot and representation. But when I think of all the time I would need to spend reading not just one, but seven horrendously thick books, I immediately decide that I would rather spend the time on someone like Joyce or Woolf instead. There are just so many books out there just calling out to be read that I've got to prioritise. And I'm not sorry to say, Potter fans, you won't see me with a Harry Potter book anytime soon.
kaoru said at 2:06 AM
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