尤利西斯（英文版）

Reading Ulysses requires a particular patience, a willingness to decelerate and immerse oneself in a narrative where the plot is deceptively simple—it is, after all, merely an account of a single day, June 16, 1904, tracing the seemingly aimless wanderings of Stephen Dedalus, Leopold Bloom, and Molly Bloom through the streets of Dublin, yet its profound complexity arises entirely from the author's revolutionary narrative technique rather than from the events themselves. It was only through this engagement with the original English text that I could fully apprehend the distinctive humour Joyce so intricately wove into the fabric of his prose, a humour largely dependent on puns, linguistic echoes, and playful parodies that are inevitably, perhaps necessarily, lost in translation, thereby forming the essential soul of the work which reveals a sly wit hidden within a single homophone or an extended stylistic mimicry. He employs the grand scaffold of Homer's Odyssey with a characteristically jesting spirit, only to systematically dismantle its epic heroism by reducing its themes to the mundane minutiae of an ordinary advertising canvasser's day, a stark contrast that itself constitutes the novel's most profound and ironic joke. Joyce demonstrates little interest in celebrating the sublime; his central preoccupation lies instead in harnessing language to capture the unmediated, often chaotic flow of human consciousness, rendering those seemingly disjointed internal monologues that amalgamate memory fragments, sensory impressions, and fleeting street encounters into a collage which, for many, represents a more authentic psychological temporality than conventional storytelling could ever achieve. The reading experience is consequently akin to traversing a dense, at times bewildering, linguistic forest, where the journey is periodically illuminated by a sudden, clarifying flash of a pun or a witty observation, provoking a quiet, knowing smile. The enduring greatness of the book perhaps resides precisely in this radical redefinition of the novel's possibilities, refusing to provide easy answers or moral conclusions, instead choosing to simply present life in its raw, unvarnished state, so that upon finally closing the cover, the reader is left with the distinct sensation of having lived through an entire, albeit ordinary, day in Dublin.

我到底是为什么不自量力地开始读尤利西斯啊！妈呀我就看进去前面一千字前言，然后一进入正文，啊…啊？通篇都是啥啊啥玩意儿啥啥啥？ 据说每100个人读尤利西斯只有10个人能读完，不好意思我是那第11个人，果断合上书本（退出页面）、洗净双手、抽自己一巴掌：人贵在好自为之好吧…到底是哈利波特不香吗是权游不妙吗，实在不行去看沙丘帝国也行啊！我到底为什么觉得中文版的意识流小说都读不下去，却可以去挑战英文版的意识流小说和全书那三万个单词啊！到底是为什么我这个才学会写一二三的初学者，要来挑战这个写万字的请帖啊！对不起我错了，怠慢了！ 书是好书，内容是好内容。有意愿和能力和文学素养的朋友们值得一试，推荐有缘人阅读。抱歉我就先撤了。

谁懂这读了9个小时只读完第三章抬头一看已读完6%的绝望。乔伊斯老师您不想让别人看懂可以选择不写书(ಥ_ಥ)

如果某时我真切地感受到了一天的漫长，我便会开始读《尤利西斯》。 可以相信，现代主义/意识流作品，永远会給我带来意想不到的体验。 说不定以后会先尝试读读乔伊斯的其他作品，比如《都柏林人》，《一个青年艺术家的肖像》。

有些世界名著就该读英文版原著......反正都是读不懂🐶

乔伊斯曾在给出版商的信里写道：“我试图为都柏林绘制一幅完整的画卷，若有一天这座城市从地球上消失，人们可以依据《尤利西斯》重建它。”这个重建，应该是对人类灵魂，也就是那个充满卑微与崇高、孤独与联结、迷茫与追寻的意识流现场。这种看似无序的跳跃、直接呈现人物内心活动的非线性叙事方式，读起来或者听起来很晦涩，经常要重复好几次才能明白表面为一人一日一城的流水账，内核却处处直击现代人精神世界的荒芜，展现在文化与宗教冲突下的身份认知困境。 乔伊斯将布鲁姆平庸的一天对应荷马史诗《奥德赛》里奥德修斯十年的漂泊，通过彼此慰藉与拯救，赋予这一天琐碎的时间以循环不息的生命力。

我才读了个开头，留一下纪念，纯粹因为前言里“一时读不懂不要紧，先收藏起来，放进您的书架里，等您长大到某个时候，您会忽然发现，自己开始能读，而且读懂了作品的字里行间意义时，那种喜悦感，是无法言述的，也是无与伦比的。您可能也会因此对走过的人生，有更深刻的感悟与理解。”这段话而买的书。“百年孤独” “追忆似水年华”“尤利西斯”，集齐这三本感觉自己人生都圆满了[捂脸][捂脸]

终于读完了第二次，比第一次明朗了一些

I'm the first one������

意识流小说，鸿篇巨制，读完两遍仍未读懂的一本书。