Ulysses indeed!

When you go to another country you pick up a lot of the lingo; little words creep into your vocabulary. In America, I guess, it's I guess. Lots of other words too for example I never heard the word oxymoron used till I got there.

In Ireland there is a phrase “It's allowed.” You might say to someone “I'm going to the pub tomorrow” and they'll say “it's allowed.”

I remember years ago meeting my cousins in Sussex and every time I said I wanted to do something they would say “It's not allowed.”

One word, or expression I have picked up here since our return is the word indeed. “Is that your car?”

“Indeed!”

“Do you plan to go to work tomorrow?”

“Indeed.”

Now why is that?

Before we went away people were saying basically. Basically this and basically that. In fact it got to be a terrible habit to be honest – oh that's another one to be honest; know what I mean?

Of course when I write I try not to use any of these phrases unless it's in dialogue and even then it can be a bore – can you understand why, for instance, the Americans spell that without an 'e' on the end?

One word I try to avoid in my writing is suddenly. I don't know why but it just doesn't mean anything and that's another funny word – just. Paul McCartney said that if there was one thing he learned from John Lennon it was to never to use the word just.

It's true that some words are not poetic.

The other thing I have noticed is that most of the dialogue on British TV is in iambic pentameter – for example that last line: it's true that some words are not poetic.

So when you read Shakespeare don't be put off by the iambic pentameter it's only natural speech; I nearly said it's just natural speech but I resisted the temptation.

We have recently had a tribute on the radio here to James Joyce's famous novel Ulysses. It is one of the best selling novels of the 20^th Century and the least read.

There was a piece in The Guardian about it on Friday and on Saturday the whole of Ulysses was broadcast on the radio with all the 'f' words and 'c' words. Good old BBC; anything goes.

The fact that it is the least read best seller is strange; there are a quarter of a million words in the novel so one read is no good I'm afraid; you really need a few reads. What happens in the plot is not important; it's the style – or styles.

The novel is loosely based on The Odyssey only instead of wandering around the Greek Islands, Bloom wanders around Dublin; there are no chapter titles but the episodes are well known to Joyce scholars. Joyce, himself, put lots of symbols, innuendos and hidden clues to keep college professors busy for centuries; his words, by the way.

He has used many writing styles, first person narrative and third person narrative sometimes on the same page. Betimes it's great to hear it being read out loud but lots of other times the readings are very dreary; it's supposed to be a very lively novel.

The Stephen Dedalus character on Saturday's broadcast sounded strange; when I looked him up it was played by a very good actor. In fact he was very good in the TV series Sherlock but played Stephen Dedalus the same – so maybe that's him. The same with Mark Rylance (the greatest actor in the world!!); I saw him in Los Angeles in Measure for Measure and I thought it was the greatest Shakespearian performance I had ever seen but when I saw him in Jerusalem there were elements of the Measure for Measure performance in that.

But back to Ulysses; one of the episodes of Ulysses takes place in a maternity hospital; that episode is called Oxen of the Sun and in that episode Joyce writes in forty different writing styles. He traces the English Language from it's beginnings to the present day, parodying most of the famous authors through the various periods: he starts with the Latinate prose, and then alliterative Anglo-Saxon taking in medieval prose, Elizabethan prose, the eighteenth-century style of Oliver Goldsmith and so on and as it is set in a maternity hospital the number of styles he uses is forty - for the forty weeks confinement of a pregnant woman.

It really is a joy to read, talk about and observe – maybe the word joy is short for Joyce?

So read it if you get the chance and if it doesn't go to well read it out loud even if you can't do an Irish accent.

This year marks the year when the works of James Joyce go into the public domain; the first year when his grandson Stephen Joyce doesn't have his hands on them. There will be a lot of squabbling and fighting as to who owns what but at least we can see how the great man formulated his choice of words.

“The National Library of Ireland is marking the occasion by launching free online high-resolution versions of a huge range of Joyce's manuscripts, from letters and notebooks to a draft of Ulysses revealing Joyce's first thoughts about the novel's famous ending.

In the published version of the novel Molly's soliloquy ends the book: "yes I said yes I will Yes". But Joyce originally wrote "would" rather than "will".

In 2004 The Guardian asked readers to come up with a 'modern' Molly and they published what I wrote – and it's still on their web site with more punctuation than I have put in here.

No no no here he is coming in now expecting me to be awake and waiting for him at this hour of the morning after he watched the bleedin football at some bleedin kip it wasn't enough to watch Greece he had to watch the Russians as well well im not going to be ready for him why does he always come home excited after watching bleedin football and drinking the night away with his pals and their women why amnt i allowed to go but not all of his pals were with him tonight he was one pal short one pal that looked for a different kind of sport tonight than the bleedin euro championships that theyre all glued to like bluebottles on a butchers bench its not as if Ireland is in it so why would they want to watch the real sport took place in here tonight and i can still smell his manliness on my sheets can still feel his thrust and strength in me thats left me here flat and relaxed and satisfied and not ready for the gobshite that i can now hear trying to mount the bleedin stairs he will know as soon as he gets in that that will be the only thing he will be mounting tonight here he is now through the door as if it was a hole him bouncing of each side of it come in you shite the bed is here but i am not oh jasus feel him setting his heavy arse onto the side of the bed which would wake me if i wasnt already awake now he cant untie his bleedin laces so i have to pretend to be asleep a bit longer as im not having him on top of me tonight theyre off thanks be to God so now hell struggle with his trousers ah the shite has them off well and good and look i can see a stain on his knicks hes been using that somewhere today more than likely his favourite self inflicted right hand girl friend that he always uses id give everything to know who he fantasises about not me im sure but i dont need him now now that i have had his pal inside my bed and inside me and giving me the satisfaction that this galloot never gave me with his bleedin football and horses and jawing in Maddigans with his cronies whilst im here saying yes to your man and yes if he wants to come again and yes if he wants me to go anywhere but this gobshite has shot his bolt with me so when comes again for me he can use his favourite self inflicted right hand girlfriend again as he has used today and he can watch the football and the like and the next time he comes at me and looks at me with those eyes he will see in my eyes no and he will ask me again and i will say no i will say no he will not have my mountain flower and no i will not put my arms around him again and i wont draw him down to me again and he will never feel my breasts again and he will never smell my perfume again and i dont care how much he gets excited and pants or how mad he goes i will say no and will say no i will No.
Chris Sullivan

Indeed!!

Read my novel, if you get the chance; it's called Alfredo Hunter: the Man With the Pen.

It has a connection to James Joyce and it's on Amazon.