I am so, so close to the halfway mark, on page 290. It's been difficult these last couple of weeks. The pages are so dense with type. Barely a break for a paragraph, and pages 282 and 283 were full of giant words combined in such a way that I can't even believe it is English. Why did my dad love this book so much? Why did I never ask him?
For this portion of Ulysses I have been listening to The Sun Also Rises. I thought I hated Hemmingway, but I don't hate this novel though I don't love it. It irritates me when the female character (and in this book there is really only one woman, in a sea of hovering men)in any book is gorgeous, stunningly beautiful, mesmerizing, etc. I mean, very few people are so beautiful, and can someone really fall in love just because of beauty? Maybe so. It is just so far removed from my life. But to my surprise I have loved the descriptions of the place, especially the parts in Spain, and even the fishing. It is clear to me that Earnest knew so much more about fishing, war, and bullfighting than he did about women. And the drinking. Oh la la. I feel like I should have a tumbler of scotch anytime I listen to his words.
Anyway, it's been a nice contrast to the long, difficult pages of Ulysses that I am now writing. And it isn't going to get any easier for at least forty more pages. Still, reaching the halfway point should count for something.
Meanwhile, hurricane Irene is heading our way.