Joe’s birthday was on Sunday, and a bunch of us from the program got together to celebrate. (Party by Alex. Awesome also by Alex.) Drinking, carousing, the works. Checking my e-mail the next “morning,” I discovered that Joe (and his Joyce classmates) had gotten the best birthday present of all: the deadline for our papers was pushed back from Wednesday to the following Monday. This means I’ll have time to make it halfway decent; it also means that I have time to do my reading for the Joyce class: Finnegans Wake.
That probably sounds like the definition of a dubious privilege. Well, it seemed that way to me, too, and all the moreso when I looked at that first page. But you know, I’m loving this book. Not in the normal sense of the phrase; I don’t have the slightest idea of what’s going on, or even who the characters are. (Some guy Finnegan fell of a ladder, that’s all I get so far.) But some of the language is just so much fun to read. As per everyone’s advice, I’ve been reading it out loud–much to the wonderment of my roommates, I’m sure–and I’ve been underlining everything I understand, plus everything I just like (a far more populous category). I’ll leave you with my favorite passage thus far; don’t forget to read it aloud:
“The wagrant wind’s awalt’zaround the piltdowns and on every blasted knollyrock (if you can spot fifty I spy four more) there’s that gnarlybird ygathering, a runalittle, doalittle, preealittle, pouralittle, wipealittle, kicksalittle, severalittle, eatalittle, whinealittle, kenalittle, helfalittle, pelfalittle gnarly bird.”
Back I go!