Don't Steal, Buy, or even think about reading this book

Over the summer I read this book, and despite having some humorous insights, it for the most part is horribly boring. To me the most interesting aspect of the work was when young Dedalus would engage in philosophical discussions with classmates or priests, as they would often relate back to systematic theology or the Catholic Liturgy. However, had I not previously read separate books dealing with those topics I would not have known what the hell was going on in this book.

This brings me to the crux of my argument against James Joyce, or many other turn of the 20th century writers for that matter. Whether it be in literature, law, philosophy, medicine, or most other professions in which a formal education was often a pre-requisite for success, the practitioners of these various crafts would guard their work by creating and propogating an indecipherable language which would effectively prevent lay people from horning in on their source of income and prestige. It seems this trend finally began waning in the post WW2 era, when public and college education became prolific. It readily became apparant that using unnecessarily large words in one's writing was not actually a sign of intellectual capacity, but rather more often an attempt at hiding from criticism. It has been argued that if one cannot explain a concept to a child, one does not understand that concept themself. For this reason, I argue authors such as Joyce should quit being revered because they wrote in undecipherable prose. Along this same line of thought, I see no valid reason for continued use of the King James version of the Bible. Based on my reading of the topic, there are actually modern language translations that more accurately reflect a correct exegesis of the original texts.

For those of you thinking of reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man; don't. Instead, read my following synopsis, and then read one of the books from my list. You will enjoy them much, much more. --- Synopsis of PORTRAIT: Life is hard for an intellectual Irishman, especially when your family is poor and stupid. You are fascinated with religion's intellectual aspects, but also feel it is stupid. You visit prostitutes and speak in a hackneyed, self loathing manner which alienates others. The end ---


1. For Whom The Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway
2. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
3. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers
4. Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs - Chuck Klosterman
5. Deadeye Dick - Kurt Vonnegut
6. Dharma Bums - Jack Kerouac