Miroslaw Balka, a, e, i, o, u, 1998
Michael Rogers, Beehive for Molly Bloom, 2002
Claire Keane

★

if i look back, i am lost
Fai_Ryy
occasionally subtle
sheepfilms
hello vonnie

JVL
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NASA

shark vs the universe
$LAYYYTER
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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KIROKAZE
almost home
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d e v o n
noise dept.
Noah Kahan
seen from Russia

seen from Bangladesh

seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from Netherlands

seen from Türkiye

seen from Spain

seen from Vietnam

seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Singapore

seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Switzerland
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
@ojamesy
Miroslaw Balka, a, e, i, o, u, 1998
Michael Rogers, Beehive for Molly Bloom, 2002
Robert Motherwell, Ulysses, tailpiece, 1988
David James, Post-Modern/Postmodernism
cant remember who to h/t
Richard Kearney
David Foster Wallace’s copy of Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce.
Joyce could not have written Molly Bloom’s soliloquy . . . if he had not somehow found a way in art, if not in life, to recognize the distinct otherness of the loved one.
Maurice Beebe, “Ulysses”, 187
In his 1996 essay “Ulysses and the Twentieth Century” (which appears in Moretti’s Modern Epic: The Two World System from Goethe to García Márquez), Franco Moretti also speaks of “a first Ulysses . . . and a second Ulysses, with equally distinctive features” (183). He expands this, though, by theorizing that “there is even a third Ulysses, albeit far more indistinct than the other two,” that occupies “the zone of transition from one to the other – when Joyce is abandoning his first great technique (but does not yet know it), and is seeking his second (but has not found yet it)” (183).
James Joyce once claimed himself to be “the foolish author of a wise book” (Ellmann 471),
What we have been calling boredom is not Joyce’s failure, then, but rather his success.
Frederic Jameson, “Ulysses”, 187
Joyce never actually ‘finished’ 'Ulysses'. Rather, since he was determined that it should be published on his fortieth birthday, February 2, 1922, he had to stop writing it.
Michael Groden, 13
If we insist on reading the sequence of styles [in "Ulysses"] as a transition, we will have to confront the awkward fact that the sequence ends not with its most radically avant-garde (or postmodernist) chapter but with a chapter [‘Penelope’] which regresses to the modernist ‘narrative norm’ of the first half.
Brian McHale, Postmodernist Fiction, 55