Bloomsday snuck up on me this year. (Apparently it did on Google Blogger too, as I just noticed that the wavy red line beneath it as I write means that they don't recognize Bloomsday as a word. Come on, Google, you've had over a hundred years to catch up on this.) I was actually scrolling through the more depressing news of the day when I saw an article about Ulysses in the Daily Beast. It's about the judge who rendered the verdict that lifted the ban on Ulysses, and you can read it HERE.
The writer of the piece, Ben Cosgrove, notes how incisive Judge John M. Woolsey's literary observations are, and quotes from his opinion thusly:
"Joyce has attempted—it seems to me, with astonishing success—to show how the screen of consciousness with its ever-shifting kaleidoscopic impressions carries, as it were on a plastic palimpsest, not only what is in the focus of each man's observation of the actual things about him, but also in a penumbral zone residua of past impressions, some recent and some drawn up by association from the domain of the subconscious."
Thank you, Judge Woolsey.
The writer of the piece, Ben Cosgrove, notes how incisive Judge John M. Woolsey's literary observations are, and quotes from his opinion thusly:
"Joyce has attempted—it seems to me, with astonishing success—to show how the screen of consciousness with its ever-shifting kaleidoscopic impressions carries, as it were on a plastic palimpsest, not only what is in the focus of each man's observation of the actual things about him, but also in a penumbral zone residua of past impressions, some recent and some drawn up by association from the domain of the subconscious."
Thank you, Judge Woolsey.
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