Bloomsday has come and gone. I had hoped to finish rereading Ulysses by the 16th but I have been FLOODED with things to do and made it only up to the Cyclops section.
That chapter, however, always hits me hard and it seemed appropriate that the scene with the outsider Bloom, in the bar with all the narrow-minded(one-eyed) nationalist bigots, enduring all their indeirect and direct jibes, was that I was reading, while walking through the verdant wilds, so reminiscent of that other emerald isle, on the other end of Eurasia,with my trusty companion, Tickes.
Reading the great work always seems to involve some coincidences with me. Last year, while reading,as I walked, a friend of mine, who has never heard of James Joyce or and couldnt have possibly understood the connection to Ireland,came up to me and said:Avi! I found a four-leaf clover!
Here,have it! Being accustomed to bizarre occurences, I kept my cool and slipped the plant into the thick book where it remains to this day. The lucky charm was of course still pressed between the pages when I amazingly ran into Paddy Moloney, the great Irish musician and famous resident of Dublin,who signed my copy of Ulysses,as I had been reading it just as we met.
Later that night, when I picked up the book again, coincidence struck again, as Donnycarney,Paddy Moloney`s hometown,cropped up on the page!
I didnt tell paddy about The TenGooz or our Irish song Innishmoor or our arrangement of Johnny I hardly knew ya. maybe I should have. I hope he finds out about them for himself!
