New  »   Gator Country  ·  Pony  ·  Sunshine Jen  ·  Post-Modern Drunkard  ·  Robot Journal
Bloomsday
In honour of Bloomsday, here is one of my favourite Joyce paragraphs of all time (I put this up last year, I think, but here goes):

"A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. "

«« past   |   future »»

6.16.2004
«« past   |   future »»


Previous Posts
That time facebook killed a robot
Vaccine dreams and waiting for some release
It's okay to miss who you used to be
What's a Nice Jewish Girl Doing With a Tree Like This?
How To Celebrate Mother's Day When You've Lost Your Mom
Cassette Players Were A Pain, But There Was Nothing More Romantic Than A Mixtape

comments[2]
all comments

post #800
bio: adina
perma-link
6/16/2004
12:06

archives
first post
that week




Share This



Category List
bun in the oven
February Smackdown
gastro-intentional
India
me likey
monkey cake
narcisimo
news
open letters
politico

My Links
twitter
»More...