This was an odd chapter (but aren’t they all?) – there was an awkwardness to it, as if everything was over described and haltingly unsure of itself.

I liked this one because it mirrored Bloom’s uneasy relationship with Stephen. I love how Bloom has that mix of fatherly compassion and a desire to be an intellectual equal (but coming up short with his morose friend).

This is as far as Joyce should push the art.