I took a class on James Joyce years ago. Until then, the most ambitious novel I'd read was David Copperfield. All was well until we got several chapters into Ulysses, at which point I felt like I'd been thrown into the deep end of a pool with an anchor around my neck. I got through it but leaned heavily on secondary sources to ease the way.
No regrets. It was a great experience.
No regrets. It was a great experience.