Clásicos latosos #3: Ulises

La tercera entrega de mi serie Clásicos Latosos para el Babelia de El País está dedicada al Ulises de James Joyce.

Ese librote antipático y camarillesco y solo-para-académicos que tanto adoran los profesores de lite comparada, y una de mis novelas menos preferidas del universo.

Me hubiese encantado citar a destajo a Arnold Bennett, uno de mis héroes literarios, que a la sazón fue el primer crítico (casi el único) que se atrevió a señalar el ropaje del emperador, pero al final, después de todas mis paridas y pedorretas, no quedaba espacio para ni un solo párrafo de su maravilloso desmantelamiento del libro.

Permítanme, por ello, que corte-y-pegue aquí de aquella sensacional pieza, en su idioma original.

Primero, mi frase favorita:

He has made novel reading into a fair imitation of penal servitude“.

Y luego un párrafo remarcable:
Nothing is easier than for an author to help his reader; to do so involves no sacrifice of principle, nor can it impair the value of the book. A writer writes not merely because he is interested, but also because he desires to interest. A sound book ought to be a fair compromise between author and reader. James Joyce, however, does not view the matter thus. He apparently thinks there is something truly artistic and high minded in playing the lout to the innocent and defenseless reader. As a fact, there isn’t. In playing the lout there is something low minded and inartistic. “Ulysses” would have been a better book and a much better appreciated book, if the author had extended to his public the common courtesies of literature. After all, to comprehend “Ulysses” is not among the recognized learned professions, and nobody should give his entire existence to the job“.

 

 

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