I've been meaning to read Ulyssess for years, and checked it out from the the library three or four times with that very intention. I'd delay starting it to the point that I could no longer renew it again, and end up having to return it to the library. Finally, I decided that 2017 would be the year I finally slogged through it, and it was just as painful an experience as I had anticipated. I don't like stream of consciousness narratives as a rule — I read to get away from my own mostly mundane thoughts — and this book was almost 800 pages of exactly that. I understand that this novel is incredibly experimental and influential, and has had a huge impact on countless books and criticism written since then; I read the book largely to understand that influence. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.