James Joyce's A Potrait

In the past I have never liked James Joyce for the simple fact that I felt he was hard to read. I felt his writing was choppy and circuitous, literature that went no where. I assumed there was no joy in reading Joyce because he didn't mean for joy to be read, one of that group of authors, poets, artists, and composers that made Paris there home in the aftermath of Post-World War I. They were anything but optimists, and although I did always appreciate Hemingway and Fitzgerald specifically, even Gertrude Stein as time went on, I always felt James Joyce to be an out-of-touch Irishman who was seriously overrated. To his credit, however, it might have been true the depth of his writing many authors refer to, but it was writing I didn't care for because it was too difficult for me to decipher. I saw many authors, specifically Collum McCann, name Joyce's books, specifically Ulysses, as one of the greatest books they ever read, which I was aghast at. Before I had only read A Portrait which I had made 2/3 through (It's a pretty short book), and absolutely hated it.

I decided to read it once again after I had heard from a discussion with Jeffrey Eugenides about Harold Brodkey's work, which I love, even though, as Joyce's is, its very unconventional, more so Brodkey's than Joyce's in my opinion. He described it as "atonal music", making a reference not to its strange, dark pitches, but the unconventionality of it often takes some time to get used to. Today, I picked up A Portrait again, and I loved it from the very start, as now I feel it is easy to read and the fluidity in it is amazing, the character reminded me of myself, which was something special. I have a strange temptation to compare A Portrait with Salt & Vinegar chips, a very strange sort of chips that is very strong, something I love regardless after eating them however many times, till the point I can't get enough of them.