For a long time now it has stood mocking in the shadows--a huge, lurking, lumbering colossus. It's facade appears impregnable, daunting. With haughty, cocked eyebrows it challenges me, dares me, to approach. I have circled around it, held trophies before it (The Sound and the Fury, Brothers Karamazov, Dante's Inferno, the list goes on. Even Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, letting it know that I meant business), yet to no avail. I knew there would come a time, must come a time, when we entered the ring together and didn't leave until I was overcome or victorious, reeling with blood-stained hands, but finally thankfully free of this oppressive weight, this fetter that would not loosen nor let me wander, holding me locked in its incessant gaze. And always the ridicule, the insufferable hints that I would fail, would fall before its awful presence. But I will not retreat or cower any longer. I have grabbed this villain, this demonic plague, by the throat and I will drag it to the ground and silence it, and I will not leave until I see myself in its lifeless eyes...
I have started James Joyce's Ulysses, the towering giant universally acclaimed as the greatest literary production of the last century. Let the battle begin.
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1 comment:
Whoah man, take it slow....:)
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