A Modernist Summer

I'm not even half way through my Orange Prize reading yet (4 down, 5 to go!) and I have my first Archives assignment due in 3 weeks, so this may not seem like the best time to start making summer reading plans.  But we have just had our first week of glorious sunshine here in the UK ... and I can't help myself.   I love the anticipation of setting myself a challenge, and I think it can work very well as a focusing tool, even if I don't always stick to it to the letter.  I'm very pleased with how my 'Victorian Winter' turned out, for example - I managed to read all four of the period novels I set myself, plus 3 of the non-fiction books and one of the contemporary fictions.  The only area in which I utterly failed was the poetry. Must prioritise that next time.

So this summer I'm setting myself the task of reading three novels, two of them decidedly Modernist and the third from an (arguably) Modernist writer.  For some reason Modernism feels right for the season - what could be better than streams of consciousness on hazy, blue-sky days? I'm being a little ambitious, however, since the first and fattest of my choices is a book that has already beaten me twice.

1. Ulysses (1922) by James Joyce

I want Ulysses to be to 2008 what Don Quixote was to 2007. That is: a revelation.  I'm going to read it, all 1040 pages of it, no matter how slowly.  I don't care if it takes me till Christmas. And what's more: I'm going to understand it and, if at all possible, enjoy it. (Colleagues at work assure me that it's 'very easy once you get into it. Really', although I can't decide whether they're just being smug because they've mastered it and I haven't.)  My plan is to start it at the beginning of June, probably after the Orange Prize announcement on the 6th, and to read it slowly, with commentaries, while making notes and posting on it regularly.  No doubt the latter will fall by the wayside, but I'm determined to try my best.  I'm also going to arm myself with an annotated guide to the book's many allusions and references (can anyone recommend a good one?).

I wonder if anyone would like to read along with me? I don't mean in an official kind of way - I won't be starting a seperate blog or setting myself a schedule, because I know how useless I am at keeping to those kinds of things.  But perhaps there are other people out there who're daunted by Joyce, but would very much like to read him in company? 

2. Pilgrimage (Part One, containing Pointed Roofs, Backwater and Honeycomb) by Dorothy Richardson

I've had a Virago copy of this book loitering around the shelves for a number of years, but have never picked it up.  I was reminded of it recently when Carmen Callil (founder of Virago) mentioned it in the Guardian Review - apparently her mother is the only person she knows who has read all thirteen 'parts' of it.  Which is a little disheartening, I suppose, but I'm fascinated nevertheless.  Pilgrimage (published between 1915 and 1967) was Dorothy Richardson's life work and tells the story of Miriam Henderson, a young woman in search of her identity.  The first installment (Pointed Roofs, 1915) innovated the technique known as 'stream-of-consciousness', and once upon a time Richardson was considered amongst the most important writers of the early twentieth century, up there with Joyce and Woolf and D.H. Lawrence. My edition contains the first three books (which aren't very long), and I'm planning on reading them all, probably alongside Joyce.  I thought it might be an interesting comparison: the great male author of stream of consciousness up against its female innovator.

3. Night and Day (1919) by Virginia Woolf

This is the only Woolf novel I haven't read, and I've been saving it up. I have to admit that I'm slightly afraid of it.  I love almost everything else Woolf ever wrote; she has been my favourite writer for a number of years.  But, I keep thinking, what if I don't connect with this novel, her second and most traditional?  I imagine I'm just being silly as the synopsis sounds right up my street: a young woman realises that a life spent paying calls, drinking tea and serving her middle-class parents isn't her idea of living at all and decides to study mathematics instead.  I'm hoping that it will be the highlight of the summer, a perfect remedy to any Joyce related weariness I might feel.  I would quite like to combine it with reading Alison Light's Mrs Woolf and the Servants, which I impulsively bought in hardback and still haven't read.  And perhaps I should also read a more general book about modernism in literature - relevant Cambridge Companions are always worth a look. 

In other news: I may just have landed both volumes of Franco Moretti's The Novel for £4.  The library at work has had a duplicate book auction, with ridiculous starting prices and hardly any interest.  No other bids at the end of today, so, fingers crossed, they should be mine by the weekend. Joy!

~~Victoria~~

Comments

[Lisa]

I applaud your determination to get through Ulysses. I haven't been able to do it, yet. Maybe I should give it a try this summer, as well. Your other choices for your summer reading sound really interesting. Good luck and I hope you win the auction. This weekend is my public library's annual book sale. :)

[Danielle]

I still have my list of Victorian books, which I've not been as good about reading as you have, though I have read several very good books with Victorian settings (just not on my list), so I will keep working on it over the course of the rest of the year. The Richardson book sounds really interesting--I'll have to see if my library has it and take a peek at it. The Alison Light book is excellent and I plan on buying it when it comes out in paper, it made me want to read Woolf's diaries. I liked Night and Day, but then I've not read a lot of Woolf's work, so I came at it from an entirely different perspective. Good luck with Ulysses, too.

[Sarah Cuthbertson]

I'd highly recommend "Mrs Woolf and the Servants", which I blogged about recently. I've read just about every biography of Woolf and some of her essays but none of her novels - yet. To quote Alan Bennett, "Me, I'm afraid of Virginia Woolf", or at least of her fiction. Which novel would you recommend a cowardy custard like me to start with?

[SFP]

I intend to read Ulysses later this year, but I don't think I'll be ready to start it in June--although I do think it'd be cool to start on Bloomsday--I want to finish Les Mis first (only 1100 plus pages to go, woo hoo!).

Can't wait to read your thoughts, though.

[Victoria]

Lisa: I did win the auction in the end. Very exciting. :-)

Sarah: Don't be afraid! Woolf isn't scary if you're used to reading challenging fiction. I recommend you begin with 'To the Lighthouse'. I know that it's the cliched choice, but I *love* it. Followed by 'Mrs. Dalloway', and then 'Orlando'. Alternatively, you could read the novels in chronological order (which is what I did), starting with 'The Voyage Out'. I found that very enlightening. :-) And if you've read Hermione Lee's biography you'll already be way ahead on contexts and themes.

SFP - I hadn't thought of starting on 'Bloomsday'. It's such a good idea. :-)

[Fábio]

Victoria, I´ve been thinking of begin to read Ulysses again for quite some time now(I tried many years ago, but it didn´t go off). If you´re willing, I accept the challenge. Starting on "Bloomsday", then?
;-)

[Tony Keen]

I have a bookmark less than a hundred pages from the end of Ulysses. The trouble is, it's been there since 1998, and if I picked it up again, I fear I should have to start from the beginning. And would I ever have time?

[Barry]

I've read Ulysses, a couple of times now - the Oxford World's Classics version has an extensive set of notes, probably sufficient for the first time reader, around 200 pages worth, including little summaries of each chapter and how they reflect Joyce's schemata and the Odyssey.

The one downside is that they use end notes rather than footnotes, so you have to work out a strategy for flipping backwards and forwards (mine was to have two copies of the book).

Having too many notes and annotations can divert you too much from the text or even prevent you seeing the text at all. Having said that, Gifford seems to be recognised as providing the definitive stand alone annotation, and I understand a fresh edition came out earlier this year.

[Adam Roberts]

Ulysses is a revelation; but I wouldn't say it's 'very easy once you get into it. Really'. On the contrary, it gets harder the further you get into it, deliberately so I think. Personally I find the later sections (Molly Bloom's soliloquy excepted) less rewarding, though dense and often amazing, than the earlier ones, where the book flows more brilliantly.

[Adam Roberts]

Ah. Your comments box doesn't support html code, then?