Pages 259-300 and something

More Hamlet discussions in the Library, with (I think) some suggestion that Shakespeare might have fancied blokes, and also that he wrote his wicked brothers into some of his plays, Edward and Richard, as the respective villains of King Lear and Richard III, with some suggestion that Shakespeare's wife Anne was having it off with one or both of them.

Someone asks Stephen if he's going to publish his theories, and also whether he actually believes them. Stephen says no, he doesn't believe them, begging the question then as to why Joyce had to spend so many pages on it. Is Joyce poking fun at academia? If so it's going right over my head.

Perhaps I should write a novel in which one of the main character theorises for 50 pages about how they think Sir Christopher Wren started the Great Fire of London so that he could rise to fame by rebuilding the city afterwards? Then she could declare her own theory utter rubbish. I don't believe that theory myself, but it sounds good, doesn't it? Try it out at a party.

Then my character - I might call her Stem in homage to Joyce - could contemplate her navel for another 50 pages, then get up and go to the toilet, then eat a ham and cheese sandwich, contemplate the nature of daytime television for another 50 pages, think about a lost love for a while, and then go for a walk down the street where she bumps into various people who's eyes remind her of marbles. Then she could pick her nose for good measure. If that doesn't get me into the top 100 books of all time I don't know what will. Except everyone would probably dismiss it as derivative, I suppose.

Anyway back to Ulysses, after they've finished banging on about Shakespeare a new section starts, where we follow different characters for short periods of time, and nothing much happens. Someone (I forget who) describes to another person how they got to sit next to Bloom's wife Molly one night and how she was a bit of alright. (It is a universally accepted truth that Bloom's wife is a bit of alright, and he thinks about her a lot too). This section started to remind me of an episode of "The Monkees" (hey hey), where people run in and out of doors a lot. All I can say is that 1904 Dublin must have been very small, people keep bumping into each other all the time. This bit is extremely dull.

Oh, in this bit I also spotted one person in a straw hat (aha!) and another person in tan shoes (aha aha!). Is Joyce trying to plant some pickled herrings about? Who was the mysterious straw hatted and tan shoed person he fled previously?? I certainly am no closer to finding out.

I'm a bit crabby this morning...