Exiles by James JoyceMy Rating: 3 of 5 Stars The Heart flutters. Fill it to brim with love and it still flutters at the corners for freedom. Dump in a handful of greed and it continues to flutter in the remaining space for ablution. Allow peace to be its sole tenant and it still flutters … More Book Review: Exiles by James Joyce (1915)
It is not always that I turn my vacation into literary ones; for one, my companions aren’t always as enthusiastic about books and their allied magic as I am and for two, I don’t undertake solo trips. But whenever I travel with my mamma, I know I can deviate from the customary and venture into … More Literary Trail: Shakespeare and Company Bookstore, Paris
For a bibliophile who fell in love with Joyce’s vast, exploratory, swashbuckling devil-may-care attitudinal writing last year, this is a first anniversary of sorts. Ulysses was, is and I am certain would be, a book to read and drive rebirths, to re-read. Should I say I loved the book because I understood it, I would … More Its Bloomsday!
Happy Birthday, Sir Joyce! Its a bit of an injustice that you never lived long enough to see me, since if you had, you would have felt pleasantly proud and inflated in nurturing vanity at the sight of a fan so bewitched that she continued holding onto your works for almost an entire year, fearing … More HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAMES JOYCE!
Ulysses by James Joyce My Rating: 5 of 5 stars Some works are not written; they are lived. The authors write not with ink, but with breaths. Every breath that finds its way in, sucks in a piece of the world and releases it into the author’s being, letting it permeate, gauge, prod, absorb and … More Book Review: Ulysses by James Joyce (1920)
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce My Rating: 5 of 5 stars APRIL 19 (Evening): Alright. This is insane. It has been almost eighteen, 18 (has more impact) hours since I sat down to scribble something about what is going on in my mind but the right words are … More Book Review: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce (1914)
It was a year of frenzied reading. And for once, the pace was fueled not by madness but serenity. The more serene I felt, the deeper I sunk – sunk into the world of books, of characters, of emotions, of questions, of dilemmas, of contemplation, of statements and above all, of many truths. That this … More 2015 – My Year in Books
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