I released my first Joyce post prematurely. I meant to hit "DRAFT" and hit "PUBLISH," instead. So, if you've read it already please try to erase it from your mind so it seems original when you see it again on the eve of Bloomsday.
Is my face ever red.
[Answer: yes. Usually. I'm Northern European in origin, like a fair percentage of Americans.]
Anyway. I listened to Frank Delaney's Intro to Ulysses podcast today and really did order that bio of Joyce from Amazon, as well. Tell me you don't fall a little bit in love with him after hearing his accent:
On the topic of his accent, when my iPhone disappeared two weeks ago my heart broke, and not for the stupid technology or status of the actual phone. On that iPhone was stored bits of all the authors whose signings I've attended over the past year: Ian Rankin, Daniel Handler/Lemony Snickett, Chris Bohjalian, Rebecca Skloot, Elizabeth Berg, Michael Cunningham, etc. But what makes me have to fight back tears is the loss of the most brilliant author event I've ever attended: Sebastian Barry's.
Now, I know I throw his name around a bit on the blog and a lot of it is stuff and fluff, but he truly does own a bit of my heart, in a little corner where I've put a desk for him to sit and write should he ever come visit. But that signing. That amazing evening. It was pure magic, more so than I can express. And it's gone. I can't go back to it anymore. It's wherever my phone wound up, because I never thought to download or upload or sideload it into my computer.
It's not as though I can't pull him up on YouTube to virtually attend one of his readings. Sure, I could do that. But that particular evening was essentially one of the highlights of my life. The drama of his reading, the lilt of his voice, the fact an actor who'd acted in one of his plays previously – when it played in Chicago – came and read a part from his original script!
None of that can ever be replaced. I am desolate.
But what's to be done? Nothing. And will he ever come to the States again? He came for On Canaan's Side because the setting was Chicago and he hadn't been in the U.S. for ages before that. More than likely I've seen and met him for the only time I ever will.
That's a crap note to end on. Sorry about that.
But.. soldier on.
Joyce. Ulysses. It's coming up, and very soon, too. Not today, as my stupid leaked post said but soon.
In the meantime, over to General Nonsense.