photo of a quilt hanging on the line in our back yard, by Mighty Reader
I have begun reading critical commentary on Finnegans Wake. That can't be a good thing. I had orginally planned to just experience the book as witness to Joyce's performance, but I find myself increasingly caught up in various annotations and interpretations, finding that there is very little agreement among the Joyce authorities. I like that lack of agreement. It reminds me of when I first started reading "Hamlet" criticism and found that there is a multiplicity of interpretations of every scene in that play. The best works of art, I tell you and not for the first time, resist our attempts at decoding. But I will not go out and buy any of the standard critical texts about Finnegans Wake. No, I won't. I'll just read the damned book, I will.