LITERATURE, Fiction, Modernist Literature, event, contemplative, joyful, Bloomsday
One hundred four years ago, Leopold Bloom woke up and ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. And thus has the annual June 16 breakfast diet followed suit for many the world’s Joyceans in the decades since; and those like myself who find themselves incapable of stomaching such demanding fare suffice their commemorations through variously mimicked perambulations of the Ulysses protagonist: whether through urban odysseys of one's own or tracing Bloom’s precise footsteps through Dublin or listening to his day’s travails upon barroom- or stage-set, the means of celebrating this poignant day are as personal, unbounded and inviting as the novel itself. That said, much of the joy to be experienced on Bloomsday comes in a communal setting. I