Posts tagged james joyce
“Hi! My name is Sufjan. History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”
Sufjan Stevens, “Christmas Mysteries of the Chicken McNuggets as Explained by Macrobiotic Star People and Aunt Harriet’s Magic Ouija Board“
For the last two days, Madeleine has been sending me Sufjan interviews, quotations, and stories. Sentences like these, reminiscent of when our father told a friend coming to visit that his four children were all named after the Q and highly sensitive about being called by the wrong number. Humor the best reminder of the ties of DNA.
You know Joyce kept writing Ulysses on the proofs, over and over again as they sent them for final corrections?
When you read Joyce, you talk about epiphanies: notes like “thank you; have a good day.”
We don’t really know what it means, but that’s the enigma of the epiphany.
They say not to end on a quotation. What do you think.
They all speak our dialect, taking pleasure in preserving the harshness of the local accent. It’s a strange thing, that luxurious Parisian apartment full of the speech of Trieste’s slums.
on James Joyce’s home, from Portraits of the Artist in Exile
I like it.
Big City Life (Mattafix): Don’t you wanna know me; be a friend of mine?
— Hello! It’s young Dedalus! What’s up?
— The sky is up, Brother Michael said.
James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
The top photo looks a lot like one from a momentous day in August. That mending-day was Day 3 of three decision days: the morning after writing that post, I turned in my withdrawal from study abroad and chose to go back to school at home. So glad I did.