Call this a coda or a very late placed intermission for the ‘Ulysses’ melee. I still haven’t finished it due to feeling that the last two chapters should be properly savoured and snatching odd paragraphs by omnibus isn’t the way to do it. But I have found time to revisit a much shorter work that Joyce wrote while finishing ‘A Portrait of the
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I saw that piece in The Guardian, which was especially resonant to me because my name is Toby, and everyone always identified me with the Tram Engine whose line was about to be closed down. I have to say that the West Indian immigrant metaphor never occurred to me even though I still have a mug with Toby on its side next to my bed, and I still occasionally wonder about the stories when drifting off to sleep.
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I'll pick this up, and enjoy a "brief Joyce"! I am encouraged - so thank You!
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This sounds right up my alley!! Who did the intro in the text you read?
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Haven't gotten to anything about Giacomo in Burgess' book yet. Will keep an eye out. Thanks for the rec.
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