/lit/ - Literature

>>18551982
I really havent been here in probably a year or two, and have made much more progress in my reading and studying than I ever had previously, so I won't be returning. It seems that having ears, you all still hear not, and are caught in the vanity of reading without ends, only as a pursuit of pleasure or some equally debased and lowly desire. I leave you all will record of my supremacy over you all:

A forest fires seeds of pines from conflagration lines,
the earth that dry, the sky that black, the trees that red,
and tendrails fly, and feet lay tracks, and death life bred,
a hundred howls of heat, and thousands snaps like sleet
of snowing sheets of coming inspirations stir,
as air takes burrs of blurs, and summons souls to seeds,
the foliage fertilely fresh, to found the future mesh,
and all the same they grow still all more different,

Then silence softens sounds of sundry sources soar,
as if life focused on its growth and would speech loathe,
begreened redeeming rivers run from solemn heavens,
as death most verily occurred, yet now life flurs
in flourish fully formed before but now reforms,
and roots run out and shout that they may nevermore run out,
and leaves take leave of lowt, of height they grieve they'll heave,
and stems and trunks conive condition freedom from perdition,
and all at once the earth resumes its annual grooming gird,
and all at once the line resounds a heartened cry,
and all at once once more they soar into nigh sky,
and all at once the streaming rush of time, that rushing herd,

Envelops, entailing fruit of flight, for all new life.
The Past is more a recollection than a real erection,
built on and up as one sees present fit requires,
but never rightly there in its own beings right,
The Future falls as foolish figuring and frantic
attacking grasping at the horizon receding everquick,
but for its furtive furrowing fingers never find,
So Now the minds must occupy, this present strife.

Now time occurs and blurs as former fires' flurs,
and happening and passing now it happens and it passes now.

A there before, just as before, this beauteous form,
of pinetrees sliding shadows, of needles nitting nurseries,
as hymns of breezes mat, and soothe the ears of all in series,
of flitting forest fowls, of fluttering hearts of humming birds,
as tones attuned to owls and tomes and treatises theyve heard,
of subtle wanderings of driving bears' intinerant lairs,
as if entirely unaware, the prior battlefields singeing singing,
and thus therefore, just as before, continual storm


Good and evil have nothing in common, and so beauty and ugliness, return to your filth and meagre rations scum. Sayonara.

Can someone link the preperatory literature for reading Ulysses? I forgot to save it and saw it a while ago, also, from what I remember, why the fuck is the entire summa theologica there? I was planning on reading it for other reasons, but I have been curious ever since. Why does one need an entire, in depth, extensive knowledge of the catholic fatih to understand Ulysses?

Monet