Obviously and undoubtedly, a lyrical masterpiece.
My favourite moment is when Stephen is made to forswear Byron:
Struggling and kicking under the cuts of the cane and the blows of the knotty stumpy Stephen was borne back against a barbed wire fence.
-
Admit that Byron was no good.
-
No.
-
Admit.
-
No.
-
Admit.
-
No. No.
At last after a fury of plungers he wrenched himself free…
The transition in language and style as Stephen matures is pure magic, Joyce’s work often feels realer than life itself.