Friday, September 09, 2005

His tongue clacked in compassion. Dth! Dth!

160 pages in. I’m getting a good walkabout of Dublin, but damned if I can find a story. Bloom’s got a mistress, but that’s about it.

Bloom thinks of Shakespeare: “The flow of the language itself. The thoughts.” That seems to describe Joyce’s intent for the novel as well, to play richly with the language, and to present the characters’ internal monologues. You’d expect the best novel of the century to be examining the Big Questions of Life, but I have to admit I’m not seeing this. I’m too swamped with virtuoso technique, too busy trying to make sense of the just the surface level of what I’m reading. Maybe by the end it’ll all become clear.

Oh, the post’s title. Refers to Bloom hearing sad news. His tongue clacked in compassion. Dth! Dth!.

Is Dth! Dth! a clacking sound? For the life of me I can’t get those letters to clack. But my keyboard’s damp with spittle.


Post a Comment

<< Home