icon caret-left icon caret-right instagram pinterest linkedin facebook twitter goodreads question-circle facebook circle twitter circle linkedin circle instagram circle goodreads circle pinterest circle

NauenThen: Something's up & I can't add posts at the moment. The tech people at the Authors Guild are trying to fix it. Back as soon as possible! 

James Joyce

Remember how condescending Joyce is in Portrait of the Artist to a friend for remembering something by thinking back to where he was and what he was eating when it happened? It is so like some Irish Catholics I know to have that condemnatory attitude toward the body (not you, Lal! & not Johnny either). They dismiss the physical self, live in head and heart as though there were no body. Your mind is part of your body: Isn’t that most clear when you have a cold & your brain is fuzzy? Or is your brain woolly, therefore you get a cold? Does foggy thinking cause illness? A dampness of the brain that settles in the lungs? Am I getting sick because I can’t write a stupid article for a stupid magazine? Does the Nobel Prize prevent (cure) illness? Which Joyce never won. AND he was a terrible hypochondriac. QED.

Post a comment