Ulysses

James Joyce, 1882-1941

Book - 1993

Presents a trade edition of James Joyce's novel "Ulysses," with corrected text, including corrections of misspelled words and incorrect punctuation and includes words, phrases, and sentences that were omitted from the original text.

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FICTION/Joyce, James
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Subjects
Published
New York : Vintage Books [1993]
Language
English
Main Author
James Joyce, 1882-1941 (-)
Other Authors
Hans Walter Gabler, 1938- (-), Wolfhard Steppe, Claus Melchior, Michael Groden
Edition
Gabler ediiton
Item Description
"This edition follows exactly the line divisions of the critical edition (Garland, New York, 1984)."
Physical Description
xix, 657 pages ; 24 cm
Bibliography
Includes bibliographical references (pages 656-657).
ISBN
9780394743127
Contents unavailable.

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: -- Introibo ad altare Dei . Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely: --Come up, Kinch. Come up, you fearful jesuit. Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak. Buck Milligan peeped an instant under the mirror and then covered the bowl smartly. --Back to barracks! he said sternly. He added in a preacher's tone: --For this, O dearly beloved, is the genuine christine: body and soul and blood and ouns. Slow music, please. Shut your eyes, gents. One moment. A little trouble about those white corpuscles. Silence, all.  He peered sideways up and gave a long slow whistle of call, then paused awhile in rapt attention, his even white teeth glistening here and there with gold points. Chrysostomos. Two strong shrill whistles answered through the calm.  --Thanks, old chap, he cried briskly. That will do nicely. Switch off the current, will you? He skipped off the gunrest and looked gravely at his watcher, gathering about his legs the loose folds of his gown. The plump shadowed face and sullen oval jowl recalled a prelate, patron of arts in the middle ages. A pleasant smile broke quietly over his lips. --The mockery of it! he said gaily. Your absurd name, an ancient Greek! Excerpted from Ulysses (Gabler Edition) by James Joyce All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.