/lit/ - Literature

>>19511027
Jumbo Juice

Okay, /lit/, I'm terribly confused. When I read Ulysses I was under the impression that Molly Bloom has been having affairs for quite some time, and Boylan is merely her latest lover. However, just today I saw in another thread a post stating Boylan is Molly's first extramarital affair ever. This doesn't make sense to me, as Molly is extremely horny and in ten years of no-good-sex with Bloom she would have cheated earlier. Plus if Molly wasn't cheating on him before I don't see why Mr Bloom would be so saddened and suspicious on seeing Boylan's letter in the morning. On the other hand, the book doesn't make any explicit mentions of previous affairs either, and possibly it's more poetic for this to be Molly's first affair. And then too there's a section in Ithaca:
>If he had smiled why would he have smiled?
>To reflect that each one who enters imagines himself to be the first to enter whereas he is always the last term of a preceding series even if the first term of a succeeding one, each imagining himself to be first, last, only and alone whereas he is neither first nor last nor only nor alone in a series originating in and repeated to infinity.
>What preceding series?
>Assuming Mulvey to be the first term of his series, Penrose, Bartell d’Arcy, professor Goodwin, Julius Mastiansky, John Henry Menton, Father Bernard Corrigan, a farmer at the Royal Dublin Society’s Horse Show, Maggot O’Reilly, Matthew Dillon, Valentine Blake Dillon (Lord Mayor of Dublin), Christopher Callinan, Lenehan, an Italian organgrinder, an unknown gentleman in the Gaiety Theatre, Benjamin Dollard, Simon Dedalus, Andrew (Pisser) Burke, Joseph Cuffe, Wisdom Hely, Alderman John Hooper, Dr Francis Brady, Father Sebastian of Mount Argus, a bootblack at the General Post Office, Hugh E. (Blazes) Boylan and so each and so on to no last term.
In which any one of these mentioned might have had sex with Molly.
Help me out here, /lit/. Is Boylan Molly's first affair?

>Me. And me now.
Has any writer come close to expressing vast emotions in such few words?

Are you guys trying to turn me into a cuck?

I'm serious. I'm not a regular visitor to /lit/, but I've come here for recommendations multiple times. And every single book you guys told me to read turned out to be a cuck book.

The first time I came here I said I wanted to read the great Russian novelists. I was told, "Read Anna Karenina. It's the finest Russian novel there is." I read it. It's about a guy who gets cucked.

The second time I came here I said I wanted to read an American novel. I was told, "Read The Sun Also Rises. It's quintessential American literature. You'll love it." I read it. It's about a cuck.

The third time I came here I said I wanted to read some Shakespeare. I was told, "Start with Othello. One of the great tragedies." I read it. Cuck.

The fourth and most recent time I came here I said OK, /lit/, I want the best novel ever written. So many people said Ulysses by James Joyce that I bought it, and even though it was tough to read, I kept going because there wasn't any cucking. Then I get to the very end. It was about a cuck!

What the fuck, /lit/?

>The smallest things give me a great cockstand—a whorish movement of your mouth, a little brown stain on the seat of your white drawers, a sudden dirty word spluttered out by your wet lips, a sudden immodest noise made by you behind and then a bad smell slowly curling up out of your backside.
>You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole
>Fuck me if you can squatting in the closet, with your clothes up, grunting like a young sow doing her dung, and a big fat dirty snaking thing coming slowly out of your backside
>At such moments I feel mad to do it in some filthy way, to feel your hot lecherous lips sucking away at me, to fuck between your two rosy-tipped bubbies, to come on your face and squirt it over your hot cheeks and eyes, to stick it up between the cheeks of your rump and bugger you

I recently matched with a cute /lit/ girl (female) on tinder, what should I say to seal the deal?

>>12857141
Can you expand on what you mean by "metaphysical black box"? I'm not really familiar with Kant but I'm interested.

>>12496551
Good choice.
>>12487941
I couldn't get over how gimmicky a Winter's Night was. I liked a lot of what it was doing but it was so obsessed with its own pomo-ness that I never cared about the characters.

I think Ulysses is unironically super comfy.

>>12369895
I guess so but it seems like more banging your head against the wall without connections. I'm only applying to fully funded programs. It'll still be expensive in a sense because the stipends are so small compared to a real job, but at least I wouldn't be in debt.

https://mobile.nytimes.com/2018/06/12/magazine/the-strange-case-of-the-missing-joyce-scholar.html

This is fucking fascinating stuff, guys. I want a film adaptation

http://content.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1578073,00.html
What the FUCK guys

Sorry guys if I'd have known this was gonna get derailed because of the meme picture I would have just posted a pic of Joyce.

For me, it's an arse full of farts

You guys are a bunch of prude losers I swear.

On occasion I get a certain urge, an urge I can't find the impetus behind but one that nonetheless I find I must satisfy to it's natural conclusion. I eat as much peanut butter and drink as much milk as I can in order to build up the gasses, then I jump in my car and head down to the bookstore to buy a 1922 scholarly edition of Ulysses. During the drive I'll start to feel the farts welling up, but i hold them in, knowing they'll be so much sweeter soon. Walking around the bookstore I can feel the eyes of the cute little shopkeep on me as I clench my ads cheeks together. Sometimes I'll smile at her and maybe even let a little squeaker out (She always blushes). When I get back home I draw all the curtains and get fully nude. The farts are mustering full force against my sphincter now, clamoring to get out. I'll let one or two slip out--i just can't help myself! I squat nude at the top of my stairs, bobbing up and down so that the carpet tickles my dangling ballsack, and meticulously rip out the telemachus episode, wadding each page up and carefully inserting them into my ballooning rectum. When every last page is inside me, quivering, face contorted in pleasure, I groan the words "Stately plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead," whereupon I unleash a flatulence the like on which is rarely seen, heard, or smelt anywhere. The pages of Telemachus flutter through the air like confetti as I have a mind-shattering orgasm, shooting cum from the stairhead all the way to the lower level. Often in my ecstasy I tumble all the way down to lay quivering at the bottom in the puddle, the pages raining down on me until I fall asleep, dreaming of how I'll do it all over again tomorrow with Nestor.

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP snnnnniiiiiiffffffffffff...oh yes my dear....sssnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiffffffff....quite pungent indeed...is that....dare I say....sssssssnniff...eggs I smell?......sniff sniff....hmmm...yes...quite so my darling....sniff....quite pungent eggs yes very much so .....ssssssssssssssnnnnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiffffff....ah yes...and also....a hint of....sniff....cheese.....quite wet my dear....sniff...but of yes...this will do nicely....sniff.....please my dear....another if you please....nice a big now.... BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPFFFFFF Oh yes...very good!....very sloppy and wet my dear....hmmmmm...is that a drop of nugget I see on the rim?...hmmmm.....let me.....let me just have a little taste before the sniff my darling.......hmmmmm....hmm..yes....that is a delicate bit of chocolate my dear....ah yes....let me guess...curry for dinner?....oh quite right I am....aren't I?....ok....time for sniff.....sssssnnnnnnniiiiiiiiffffffff.....hmmm...hhhmmmmm I see...yes....yes indeed as well curry......hmmm....that fragrance is quite noticeable....yes.....onion and garlic chutney I take it my dear?.....hmmmmm....yes quite..... BBBBBBRRRRRRRRPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT Oh I was not expecting that…that little gust my dear….you caught me off guard…yes…so gentle it was though…hmmmm…let me taste this little one…just one small sniff…..sniff…ah….ssssssnnnnnniiiiiffffffffffff…and yet…so strong…yes…the odor….sniff sniff…hmmm….is that….sniff….hmmm….I can almost taste it my dear…..yes….just…sniff….a little whiff more if you please…..ssssssnnnnnniiiiiffffffffff…ah yes I have it now….yes quite….hhhhmmmm…delectable my dear…..quite exquisite yes…..I dare say…sniff….the most pungent one yet my dear….ssssnnnnniiiifffffffffffffffffffffff….yes….

How much did the great authors read? Howany hours a day, how many books a year? Does anyone know?

Take someone like Joyce, for instance. It'd be nice to compare myself to the adolescent Joyce, for motivation and to see where I stand. I am nowhere near as talented or intelligent. But Joyce was a firm believer in the maxim that the artist is made, not born. And I think I could go far if I have an idea of what's required.

Are you guys trying to turn me into a cuck?

I'm serious. I'm not a regular visitor to /lit/, but I've come here for recommendations multiple times. And every single book you guys told me to read turned out to be a cuck book.

The first time I came here I said I wanted to read the great Russian novelists. I was told, "Read Anna Karenina. It's the finest Russian novel there is." I read it. It's about a guy who gets cucked.

The second time I came here I said I wanted to read an American novel. I was told, "Read The Sun Also Rises. It's quintessential American literature. You'll love it." I read it. It's about a cuck.

The third time I came here I said I wanted to read some Shakespeare. I was told, "Start with Othello. One of the great tragedies." I read it. Cuck.

The fourth and most recent time I came here I said OK, /lit/, I want the best novel ever written. So many people said Ulysses by James Joyce that I bought it, and even though it was tough to read, I kept going because there wasn't any cucking. Then I get to the very end. It was about a cuck!

What the fuck, /lit/?

>>8830828
>has anyone written a 1000 page tome on a fart fetish?

I know just the guy you need

I'm taking a class next semester on James Joyce, and the plan is to read all of Dubliners, Portrait, and Ulysses by the end. I've never read Joyce. What am I in for? Is it even possible to read all of those books in one semester?

>>8342046
>terrible prose

What's this guy's name again?