Forbes and Fifth

A Voyage Across the River Ulysses

I set down the book and let out a deep exhale as my mind begins to race. I hear the echoes of Molly Bloom proclaiming “yes I will yes and he kissed me yes I will yes.”1 I have finally done it. After two grueling and enlightening months, I have finally conquered the beast. I have grabbed Ulysses by the throat and held on for dear life as it thrashed about in front of me, always taunting me, teasing me, hiding away its secrets so its legacy can live on forever. I have climbed the Mount Everest of novels. I have made the voyage around the world and seen many beautiful and many frightening things along the way. I have peered into the mind of James Joyce and the soul of the human race. I have been transported to Dublin, Ireland, in the early 20th century. I have stood with Greek gods and walked with biblical legends. All of the hours I devoted to reading and rereading and re-rereading in a desperate attempt to get something out of the novel seem to have disappeared in an instant. I think about where the summer has gone and how much time I have spent sitting in Hillman Library, admiring the other books on the shelves, glancing at their titles as I pass by but never actually picking one up. No matter how interesting they looked, Ulysses was always there within a close proximity, beckoning me like a siren in the choppy sea, calling my name, inviting me into its cold embrace. But I am finished now. The deed is done. I don’t know whether to take a victory lap around the fourth floor, screaming incoherently about my accomplishment, or weep gently into my hands. I have come here to take on the impossible, or maybe just improbable. Although my heart is filled with a deep sense of pride and accomplishment, I cannot help but think back to my reasons for starting this journey in the first place. Why did I want to read and understand Ulysses so badly? What was the point of devoting two-thirds of my summer break to a single novel?

It is possible that Ulysses is the ultimate source of literary bragging rights. By actually finishing it, a reader may gain entrance into a secret club of academic scholars, snobs, hipsters, masochists, et cetera. Or maybe it is worthwhile because of the time and effort that must be dedicated to it. Maybe I stumbled across a list of “50 Books to Read Before You Die”2 and this happened to be the grand finale of them all, although if I had waited until my death bed to begin Ulysses, I may die confused, frustrated, exhausted, and beaten down. I hoped I would take from it a supreme knowledge of Bible verses, the evolution of the English language, Homer’s Odyssey, Irish folksongs and customs, or a sense that I now understand the way the human brain functions, not just at an everyday cognitive level but at a subconscious level. It is a possibility that I wanted to understand the human soul a little better, even hoped for existential epiphany (or crisis). Maybe I wanted to create a more epic world around me, witnessing the events that unfold during an average day in my life garner much more significance and meaning than ever before.

Ultimately, I was on a quest for knowledge, not just about the world contained within Ulysses but concerning the world of scholarly work, academic research, and the field of English Literature as a whole. I wanted to wear this knowledge like a badge of honor and hopefully pass on the torch to another unsuspecting victim of Joyce’s labyrinth of a novel.3 Though a burning question still lingers in my head, taunting me and tearing me up from the inside. If a novel, especially a difficult novel, has been scrutinized, analyzed, evaluated, lionized, dissected, reassembled, and possibly even exhausted, why should I bother joining in the conversation? Why should I, as a college student in 2014, care about a seemingly impenetrable text released at the beginning of the 20th century? Why did I do this to myself?

As I glance at the book, my eyes are instantly drawn to the portrait of a bridge over water on its cover. I think about the river I have just crossed, a long and unrelenting force of nature. I could have simply turned away from that river, maybe even skipped it entirely and found an alternate route. But I chose to traverse the slow and painful passage across its majestic rapids, its constant ebb and flow tossing me from side to side and churning my mind. Each of the 18 episodes containing layers of obstacles providing a constantly shifting pattern of treachery and intrigue were individual accomplishments worthy of rejoice. I was often overcome with a sense of crisis in my ability to see this journey to the end. It would have been nice to simply let the current whisk me away, convenient to end up in a strange place downstream I had never intended to go.

Though, what if a reader could employ a set of tools to fight back against the current? In an effort to resist its unyielding force, I am prepared to offer two modern ways of reading classic literature texts in the hopes that this extended river metaphor will shed light on what I perceive to be an emerging trend in the study of English Literature as the use of internet resources is brought to the forefront of academic research in the Humanities. These internet-based ways of reading, the Canoe method and the Bridge method, will differ in not only the unique tools they provide, but the amount of assistance they require. They are intended for use by motivated readers with an internet connection and the perseverance essential to embark on what could be the greatest literary journey of their lives. However, before these unique strategies can be expanded upon, a broader conversation centered on the origin of their necessity must occur.

Prospective readers of Ulysses are forced to confront a few concepts before they can embark on their adventure. They can see directly across this river and may possess some pre-conceived notions about what is supposed to be located on the other side. They realize quite early in the novel that June 16, 1904, is the day on which its events take place. The readers may have been told that this is a work of modernism.4 Maybe they can start to form some semblance of an understanding that Joyce employs stream of consciousness style and is often concerned with thoughts and sensory perception. It is possible that they recognize the copious allusions to literary, historical, and biblical works. It might seem clear that this is a book for intelligent people, and new readers may even begin to recommend that their peers take the plunge with them, a sort of morbid pact assuring some company in times of deep despair. These aforementioned features of the experience of reading Ulysses resonate throughout the many facets of the internet culture surrounding it: a modern digital version of the Cult of Joyce,5 members of which celebrate June 16th as the “Bloomsday” holiday.

Bloomsday festivities are characterized by readings, lectures, costumed fanfare, and guided tours with the intent of enriching the experience of Ulysses in the public sphere. It is said that the first manifestation of the Bloomsday celebration occurred when four literary dignitaries embarked on a journey through Dublin, Ireland, in 1954, with the purpose of retracing Leopold Bloom’s steps throughout portions of the novel. In attempting this feat, the four men were unable to complete their mission as a result of alcohol consumption and subsequent exhaustion. In his Vanity Fair article entitled “Bloomsday is a Travesty, But Not for the Reason You Think,” James S. Murphy describes the current state of the Cult of Joyce in its modern incarnation. He says:   

It would be nice to think that swelling readership of Ulysses drives the Bloomsday boom, but it’s more likely that Bloomsday provides an opportunity for cultural validation that’s about as substantial as sharing an author quote on Instagram. Reading Ulysses is a slow, immersive, and ultimately private experience; Bloomsday is a social-media-ready event, where like-minded people convene to celebrate their own taste6

Although his criticism of the Cult members who have not actively undertaken the task of reading the actual novel carries much weight, he makes a dangerous assumption about the nature of reading Ulysses in the present day. He proclaims that reading Ulysses is an “ultimately private experience,” yet this way of reading is simply one of the many options readers in the 21st century possess. He is absolutely correct in saying that this process is “slow and immersive,” but he overlooks a major shift in the study of literary texts.

This shift, which may in fact prove to be a substantial revitalization of the study of English Literature and many other Humanities fields, is facilitated by the use of digital resources and internet outlets to instantly gain and share knowledge. Murphy can effectively view and criticize the spectacle surrounding Bloomsday but misses a crucial aspect of the way in which certain tech-savvy readers approach Ulysses in this modern digital age. They do so as a collaborative effort and utilize the internet as an ultimate tool to enable this collaboration. Thus, I would offer Murphy the Canoe method as an alternative to his perceived negativity stemming from the spectacle of “cultural validation” and welcome him to consider the benefits of mass digital interaction, even if it is used solely as a “gateway drug” to usher in a new collective of potential readers.

The Canoe approach to reading Ulysses is the more work-intensive and possibly frustrating path to take. In this approach, the reader chooses to traverse the river Ulysses with the help of a judicious and limited amount of outside information and guides. Since operating a canoe, unlike the simple process of walking across a bridge, requires some amount of skill and prior training to be an effective form of travel, it follows that this technique cannot be fully implemented until a reader understands the sources she or he will use in conjunction to reading the primary text and evaluates them on their effectiveness. The Linati Schema is the first resource canoe travelers should attempt to utilize. Written by Joyce for the purpose of assisting Carlo Linati, an Italian language translator of Joyce’s works, the schema outlines the 18 episodes of Ulysses and takes the first step towards organizing it into a more coherently structured novel with episode divisions instead of simply page breaks. Joyce also includes in this outline a list of important symbols, characters, arts, and even describes his unique writing style which changes with each new episode.7 This resource is akin to providing the reader with a paddle, which is certainly not as strong as a propeller on the back of the boat, but provides an increased level of control against the current. Indeed, using the Linati Schema creates an initial access point into the novel and allows the reader a way to slowly begin chipping away at the task at hand. The Linati schema of course was not originally a digital source, yet it can be readily searched for and obtained online. Although this simple “guide” does not provide nearly as much information as many of the contemporary Ulysses reading guides, it does mark the first instance of the apparent necessity of outside sources.

Within the Canoe method, there can exist a gradient of external help, ranging from the most judicious and sparse use of outside sources to employing a complete reference guide to reading Ulysses, short of a full-length plot summary. According to Edwin Turner, in his article entitled “HOW TO READ JAMES JOYCE’S ULYSSES (AND WHY YOU SHOULD AVOID ‘HOW-TO’ GUIDES LIKE THIS ONE),” there is a strange relationship between the reader and a guide he may choose to employ. Turner claims that “the book’s reputation for density, erudition, and inscrutability” precedes itself and creates an immediate disconnect between the words contained within its pages and the prospective reader wishing to unlock them. Turner goes on to say that this reputation leads “to a glut of guidebooks, summaries, and annotations” which “ironically, rather than inviting first-time readers to the text… paradoxically repel” them from endeavoring to read it in the first place. Turner finally raises issues of the fine line between helping and hindering when trying to understand a novel like Ulysses, which is a novel firmly rooted in distractions and digressions.8

It is not hard to fathom that the use of an outside source can quickly and mercilessly create even more of a disconnect between the world within the novel and the outside space physically occupied by the reader. Online guides, ranging from Edwin Turner’s brief five-step program for reading Ulysses to Columbia University’s “marked up” version of the novel, can prove to be a tremendous help when attempting to read and enjoy Ulysses, yet only if they are used carefully.9 Readers attempting to use these guides in conjunction with reading the primary text can easily be swayed just as far away from their intended path as attempting to cross the river without the canoe, meaning that the guides can distract and hinder just as much as they can enlighten and help. Using a guide to entirely influence a reading of the novel can sufficiently detract from its true beauty: specifically, the flow, wordplay, and eloquent prose Joyce employs. Therefore, reference guides should be used with caution; not that they are particularly corrosive to a reader’s understanding of the text, but it can be easy to fall into the trap of pure reliance on the opinions of others, even scholarly opinions, in which the reader runs the risk of not being able to establish an intellectual relationship with the text. If readers can use one of these guides when the “going gets tough” and not as a replacement for the primary text itself, then they can ultimately discover an enlightening and nuanced reading of Ulysses. It is at the discretion of the readers to initially determine the amount of information they wish to get out of the guide. For someone simply wishing to appreciate the prose of Joyce, a guide will offer little to no help.

The most common information associated with reference guides is the listing and explaining of allusions present in the text. There is no real consensus as to exactly how many allusions Joyce hid within the many layers of Ulysses, yet it is easily recognized that the number is astronomical. It may be productive for a reader to select a specific category of allusions to hone in on, such as literary, mythological, or religious. In fact, fellow modernist writer T.S. Eliot advocates a similar method of attack. In his article “Ulysses, Order, and Myth,” Eliot discusses what he perceives to be the true value of the novel and its place within the literary canon. He says:

Mr Joyce’s book has been out long enough for no more general expression of praise, or expostulation with its detractors, to be necessary; and it has not been out long enough for any attempt at a complete measurement of its place and significance to be possible. All that one can usefully do at this time, and it is a great deal to do, for such a book, is to elucidate any aspect of the book—and the number of aspects is indefinite—which has not yet been fixed10

Although nearly 100 years have passed since Eliot’s words on Joyce’s Ulysses were first published in The Dial and a countless amount of guides, references, reading schemes, and summaries have come into existence, his words still resonate deeply within the annals of literary research and characterize the way in which readers interact with novels in general. His plan of elucidation is echoed in a copious amount of online resources, a number which seemingly will never cease to grow. Eliot goes on to say: “I hold this book to be the most important expression which the present age has found; it is a book to which we are all indebted, and from which none of us can escape.” Although Eliot clearly predicts the significance of this novel to a degree, the truth of his words are exponentially more powerful within the context of the collaborative internet culture Ulysses has spawned.

If reading Ulysses in 2014 is a collaborative effort, then an excessive amount of guides and references must naturally exist to expedite this effort. Luckily, these guides do in fact exist in excessive numbers and are readily available with a simple internet search. It is almost as if the members of the internet population who have read Ulysses are collectively reaching a hand down to the lowly uninformed masses who are too scared to try it, or who have tried it and failed. If a reader has gotten through Ulysses and feels like his opinion on the subject would actually make a difference within the realm of literary studies, then of course he is going to share it with the world, which is a great defining characteristic of the internet in general. Just as readers have shared information with them in the past, they hope to help out a fellow reader in the same fashion. An internet-utilizing reader is motivated by the idea of continuing the long-standing tradition of sharing opinions and viewpoints for free.

Readers employing either the Canoe or the Bridge method strive for the acquisition and retention of knowledge. They require easy access to that knowledge and choose sources tailored to the speed and precision they have come to expect out of the internet. It seems as though online guides are not intended for casual readers who simply want to say they have read Ulysses. Anyone who comprehends English (or one of the languages it has been translated into) can physically read this novel. It is within the understanding that things become truly complicated. Although I am disinclined to promote the possibility of mastering a novel like Ulysses, these guides can help send a person down a less treacherous path. Utilizing a guide can be an excellent point of access and framing tool, especially in the early stages of reading Ulysses. Realizing they are not “getting it” can produce an immediate cause for concern in this crucial moment when the readers begins their journey; thus, the Canoe method is built upon creating a personal method of attacking the novel with a wealth of confidence and knowledge.

In contrast to the Canoe method, which requires more of a planning stage along with the careful use of reading guides and an increased interaction with the novel itself, the Bridge method is a much more heavily assisted reading mode which takes the most direct route to the other side of the river. This is the Sparknotes summary and the Wikipedia-type reference. It is easy to simply denounce the use of these sources of generalized information as a waste of time, lacking any real value to the world of academia. Negative reactions to Sparknotes even being mentioned in the same conversation as scholarly sources are so common that it has been for the most part pushed into the shadows of the academic world, especially with regards to classic literature. However, in my experience as a student in the 21st century, Sparknotes and Wikipedia are utilized and discussed by my peers much more than its dissenters seem to realize. In an effort to understand the implementation of these sources, a reader can look no further than the sources themselves for information on their use in the academic world. According to the Wikipedia page entitled “Wikipedia: Academic Use:”

Wikipedia is not considered a credible source. Wikipedia is increasingly used by people in the academic community, from freshman students to professors, as an easily accessible tertiary source for information about anything and everything. However, citation of Wikipedia in research papers may be considered unacceptable, because Wikipedia is not considered a credible or authoritative source11

It seems as though the dissenters of Wikipedia often have conveniently chosen to ignore the website’s own stance on its use in academic research. The contributors to this page wholeheartedly agree it is simply an initial push forward into deeper and more rewarding academic research. The article continues with two pieces of advice, referred to as “simple rules” by the contributors: “1. Do your research properly and wisely. Remember that any encyclopedia is a starting point for research, not an ending point. 2. Use your judgment. Remember that all sources have to be evaluated.” If any encyclopedia is a starting point for research and not an ending point, then it follows that the information located within the Wikipedia entry for a literary classic can simply be the starting point for understanding the primary source. This is exactly what the Bridge method entails. Reading the summary of a novel in place of the novel itself is not the same as using a summary in conjunction with the primary text in order to gain a more nuanced understanding of the text itself. Thus, the second simple rule, “use your judgment,” is applicable to the Bridge method of reading difficult literary texts. If a reader is going to employ this method instead of the more work-intensive Canoe method, then he or she must still be judicious and skeptical in his or her approach. It is easy to fall into the trap of letting a summary or pre-constructed analysis of a text shape the way a reader thinks and understands the text.

Although a bridge will take readers directly across the river, which is supposedly exactly where they would like to go, they must always be cautious and take the time to appreciate the journey; simply rejoicing in the satisfaction of reaching the destination is not productive. Much like the information found on Wikipedia, the summaries contained within the Sparknotes archives must always be considered an entrance point into the text, not an absolute source of knowledge. According to the Sparknotes “About” page, the authors stress they are “here to help you learn, not to help you cheat. [Their] literature guides are meant to be read along with the books they analyze. They are not intended to be copied on tests or papers (aka plagiarized).”12 Although this claim against the use of Sparknotes guides as assisted plagiarism is firm in its stance on proper usage, some scholars are quick to denounce it as a plagiarist’s best friend, a tool for cheating, and not for the advancement of academic discourse. According to Mick O’Leary in his article “Sparknotes Softens Student Life,” he comically claims that “SparkNotes was started in 1999 by four Harvard students who figured that the Web was a wonderful medium for lazy, procrastinating students.” O’Leary says:

Today, it’s even easier to take shortcuts. When I was in school and didn’t want to read an entire novel, I had to go to a bookstore and buy a copy of the CliffsNotes summary of the book. Now, all you kids have to do—from the comfort of your bedroom or dorm room—is go to SparkNotes’ site and get a complete summary and analysis of the book for free13

O’Leary’s criticism stems from a generalization about the nature of students who interact with texts within fields such as English Literature. He freely admits to using the preferred “shortcut” method of his time and seems to lament the idea that this method has evolved to a point of even more convenience and ease. In making an argument that SparkNotes is simply the next incarnation of a long line of tools for “lit paper shortcuts,” he overlooks the possibility that these guides can be used in a manner contrary to a simple “dumbing down” of the text for the purpose of appearing “learned.” The Bridge method of reading is the answer to this absence within his criticism. In this way of reading, SparkNotes is used in a judicious and productive fashion, not simply to “dumb down” the text, but to make it more accessible. O’Leary implies that SparkNotes must be used in place of the primary text, or at least used as much as the primary text with the goal of producing a paper for a Literature class. He is not even considering the possible positive gains to be made from employing such a powerful tool and jokingly admits throughout that he was in fact a user of guides much like SparkNotes when he was younger. Although he may be correct to assume many students will possess the same attitude towards studying English Literature and using guides in place of primary texts, this does not have to be an inherent attribute of all readers. If readers are taught the skills necessary to use something like a SparkNotes guide or a Wikipedia summary judiciously, even skeptically, then even the readers who are so intimidated by the thought of attempting to read a difficult text like Ulysses would have a productive and efficient method of attack as opposed to a cookie-cutter reading and interpretation.

It is easy to assume that just because the opinions and analyses expressed on the internet often come from seemingly anonymous posters without credentials or qualifications, their words do not hold any value to the academic community. Many of these people are not writing literary criticisms or formulating a master’s thesis in literature; they never claim to be doing so. This does not mean their views should be disregarded as worthless or lacking in merit. The views of the internet community are comparable to the views of fellow classmates in an academic community. College professors typically require class participation and the sharing of viewpoints of fellow students, regardless of the degree to which they are evidenced and formulated. Why should the internet community function any differently? This, however, is not an attempt to say that every single opinion and blurb of information available online is valuable in itself. Its true value is derived from the conversation it spawns, whether another person chooses to take some of the more scattered or incomplete musings of a particular poster and expand upon them or chooses to disagree and provide a counterargument, possibly with a little more scholarly backing to it. It is not a stretch to say these internet scholars are just as significant to the longevity and legacy of Ulysses as those academics who have written scholarly works on the novel before them. A literary snob may scoff at this statement and denounce it as a free-spirited approach to academic literature study, yet I would defend fiercely the notion that each and every opinion on a certain text, be it a single sentence remarking on a discovered allusion to a full-length literary criticism detailing and examining the entirety of biblical and mythological references, can possess some sort of merit to the overall understanding of the novel. Therefore, there is a grey area within both the Canoe and Bridge methods which has been alluded to but has yet to be discussed in detail. This is the reader experience and the active engagement with a difficult literary text through writing. Situated somewhere between a reference guide and a plot summary, and often possessing a heavily experience related narrative, is the blog post.

A blog is instantly published and seen by any number of people online with much faster speed than traditional print media. This means that if a person feels strongly about a certain topic, there is nothing stopping him or her from speaking his or her mind and immediately garnering access to a presumably wide audience. Ulysses certainly elicits strong emotions in its readers, and thus a blog is well suited for its discussion and criticism. What possibly makes Ulysses such an enticing read is that it is perceived as a journey, a life-changing experience, or even a high achievement in the world of academia. I would compare its internet allure with the likes of travel blogs, which are plentiful across many facets of the internet. In a way, Ulysses blogs function exactly like travel blogs: a motivated writer decides to share with the world the details of his or her journey, except instead of a physical or spatial trip, the reader of Ulysses is taking a trip within the bindings of this extremely difficult novel.14 Readers experience enjoyment and possibly even enlightenment along the way, but there are of course hardships and miseries that befall them as well. It is important to note that the accessibility of online blogs adds a tremendous amount of weight to the discussion of this novel. Authors of blogs about Ulysses feel like they have accomplished something noteworthy and wish to share this accomplishment with the world. Their writing is both a conversation with the text itself and a conversation with their readers who are intrigued by what they have to say.

I have always considered the field of English Literature to be an ongoing conversation. Without Literature, there can be no complete understanding of the past, no hope for the future. Literature does not teach us a set of facts and known truths about the world. Literature shows us the side of the world that can only exist in the darkest corners of the mind, within the perception of ideas and the discovered nuances that both enhance and complicated the world in which we live. A neuroscience textbook can teach us about the mechanism by which the brain proceeds in order to process thoughts and influence actions. Literature teaches us the motivations behind those actions and their consequences. It gives a voice to the sensibilities of people, teaches us about history, not just by discussing specific events but by detailing and tracing particular ways of thinking and existing, ways of solving problems and overcoming circumstances. It teaches us to learn from our past mistakes and truly grow and evolve as a society. Literature shows us that the problems faced by people from all periods of time can have parallels to the problems we face in the present day.

The skills involved with studying Literature are also crucial to the real world in a vast array of different professions. Learning how to tackle a massive project or undertaking by breaking it down into its core parts can translate across many different fields and occupations. The breakdown and analysis of difficult pieces of writing is also vital to many areas. What help could a lawyer be if he or she could not put an extremely challenging piece of text into words and phrases an average reader could understand? A medical researcher doing a literature review might need to interpret the vague or ambiguous words of a colleague so that she or he can truly understand the basis of what is at stake with their particular project. The application of knowledge and skills gained from studying a field such as English Literature is therefore not only helpful in a time when employment uncertainty is rampant, but often fundamental to the required adaptive and multidisciplinary nature of college graduates entering the work force.

By undertaking this project, I set out on a journey, not only to read and understand Ulysses, but to seek the value of studying Literature in the digital age. Although my journey has come to a close, I feel my experience has changed the way I perceive academic research and will continue to shape my passion and admiration for the inner workings of English Literature and the community is has created. The value I have perceived stems directly from the ability of all readers with an internet connection to engage with a text and contribute to the ongoing conversation of both scholarly and non-scholarly work. I believe the fields within the Humanities can flourish in this digital age because of the collaborative effort of the writers, readers, and scholars, all of whom breathe new life into fields such as English Literature, and the tools the internet provides to facilitate this collaboration. Of course, the two methods of reading advocated in this essay will not apply to all readers, or even all literary texts. They simply function as a transition in the direction towards a productive and nuanced reading of classic literary texts, especially extremely difficult texts, that can be enhanced by the use of internet resources so a higher level of accessibility can be readily achieved. Accessibility is the key to unlocking the true value of Literature in the digital age. There has never before been a better time to attempt a journey across the River Ulysses and join the eternal conversation. Will you swim? Will you paddle? Or will you leisurely stroll? That choice, dear reader, is up to you.


1 Joyce, James. Ulysses. Ware, Herts.: Wordsworth Classics, 2010. Print.

2 “50 Books to Read Before You Die - How Many Have You Read?” List Challenges. N.p., n.d. Web. 5 June 2014. <>.

3 Parker, Stephen, Dr. “Carl Jung’s Letter to James Joyce After Reading Ulysses.” Jung Currents RSS. N.p., 8 Feb. 2011. Web. 6 June 2014. <

4 Heffernan, James. “Woolf’s Reading of Joyce’s Ulysses, 1918-1920.” The Modernism Lab. Yale University, n.d. Web. 26 Sept. 2014. <

5 “James Joyce’s “Dirty Letters” to His Wife (1909).” Open Culture. Letters, Life, Literature, 23 Sept. 2013. Web. 14 July 2014. <

6 Murphy, James S. “Bloomsday Is a Travesty, but Not for the Reason You Think.” Vanity Fair. N.p., 16 June 2014. Web. 6 July 2014. <

7 “Linati Schema.” Linati Schema. N.p., n.d. Web. 16 July 2014. <>.

8 Turner, Edwin. “How to Read James Joyce’s Ulysses (and Why You Should Avoid “How-to” Guides Like This One).” Biblioklept. N.p., 16 June 2010. Web. 17 July 2014. <

9 “Ulysses: A Marked Up Version.” Columbia University in the City of New York. N.p., n.d. Web. 6 June 2014. <>.

10 Eliot, T. S. (1923, 11). ULYSSES, ORDER, AND MYTH. The Dial; a Semi - Monthly Journal of Literary Criticism, Discussion, and Information (1880-1929), 480. Retrieved from

11 “Wikipedia:Academic Use.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 18 July 2014. <>.

12 “About.” SparkNotes. SparkNotes, n.d. Web. 18 July 2014. <>.

13 O’Leary, Mick. “SparkNotes softens student life. (Database Review).” Information Today Feb. 2003: 41+. Academic OneFile. Web. 18 July. 2014.

14 “How to Write a Travel Blog.” WikiHow. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 July 2014. <>.

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Volume 6, Fall 2014