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There is a sense that Holden is trying to convince you of something: he insists on everything, replaces "you" for "me," and tries to put nothing in too certain terms. What makes it effective is there is no reality which the reader has access to and Holden does not: he is the final arbiter---but he lie, lie, lies, even to himself, which is most interesting, of course. But you don't resent him for it: sixteen sucks!

End of Ch. 5 is Beautiful.

Mm...apples..."as light as lemon blossoms, before a second wave came spreading through like syrup." Yum.

Finished Portrait; review tommorrow.

Symbols include: flowers, mire, and un-.

At the end of Ch. IV, Joyce reaches the heights of which I have only read in Goethe and the most cleaving, brilliant lines of Blake. Stephen's exaltations about the state of life, of self-given and self-received grace, and the absolute infinitude of Life are universal, obviously beautiful, and almost incomparable in their accuracy.

Motifs of veils, films, and cows/cattle.
Jesuit sermon was not boring, but quite terrifying
I quite appreciate Steven's relief at being alive, and his general realization about the tranquility of laboring among others; that contrition is not gone as you live, and that man--together--is a loving, slightly bovine race. Moo!

I think the Christmas dinner conversation is a perfect practical example of why engaging with political issues in a lucid way tends to make literature more beautiful and less pocky.

Also, as it pertains to my own writing, I am surprised at how many things I thought were inventions were not so: e.g. portrait-lined hallways and lifting a celebrated boy in the air!, etc.

Okay Hegelian👀...(but actually I looked it up and apparently Joyce was more intereted in Aristotle, but Hegel inherited much from Aristotle, so ... !).

Also lots of War of the Roses/Restoration content--interesting, interesting.

I like Stephen as a young lad and hope he doesn't turn haughty or too mean; I will forgive him if he does.

"Oedipus at Colonus" is over-hated by people who don't read enough poetry.

So many ways to say vagina without saying vagina!

My edition has only 50-some-odd pages left!

Ah! A blast, for a certain group--as yet, for I'm only through the story of Enoch Soames. Some references which I'd like to remember were to the "Confessions of an English Opium-Eater" and "The Yellow Book" periodical, contributed to by Beardsley.

In my edition, I'm but five pages from the end of the book, but it's late and I like to finish books with a clear, fresh-to-the-day head.

Say, my parents watch a lot of TV; it's loud, I wish I could finishe this book faster, but it's nice to savor, but also, has such a pace! a lovely lovely pace, and character too.

I'm fairly moseying my way through this one, and for good reason. I don't like to eat more than one or two of Welty's stories a day; and I say it as a compliment. In particular, the last two I read, "Why I Live At The P.O." and "The Whistle" were, respectively, very entertaining, clever, and quite affecting.