A Siren reading Ulysses. Google Images never fails!Well, maybe not the best passages from the Sirens section of Ulysses, but these ones jumped out at me this time. Not much need for context, I post them here as art for art's sake*, but Sirens takes place in a restaurant (although it includes much wandering of thoughts and remembering of times past) and is a musically-themed chapter.
Through the hush of air a voice sang to them, low, not rain, not leaves in murmur, like no voice of strings of reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers, touching their still ears with words, still hearts of their each his remembered lives. Good, good to hear: sorrow from them each seemed to from both depart when first they heard. When at first they saw, lost Richie, Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard from a person wouldn’t expect it in the least, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. (273-274)
It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don’t spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness… (275-276)
And Richie Goulding drank his Power and Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would partake of two tankards if she did not mind. Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, coral lips, at first, at second. She did not mind. (276)
Next Time: From Cyclops, a drawing and quartering drawn beautifully.
*Footnote: After I define postmodernism for you I've also got a functional unifying definition of art I could share.
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