The New Bedford Whaling Museum's Moby-Dick Marathon is an annual non-stop reading of Herman Melville's literary masterpiece. The multi-day program of entertaining activities and events is presented every January. Admission to the Marathon is free.
Showing posts with label Bloomsday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bloomsday. Show all posts

Saturday, June 6, 2015

Bloomsday is on its way to Worcester

Attention all lit-marathoners in the New England states:

The Worcester County Poetry Association has scheduled  their twentieth "Bloomsday Ramble," Tuesday, June 16.

The Bloomsday Ramble is a marathon reading of (sections of) James Joyce's Ulysses. The Ramble makes a number of stops around downtown Worcester, running from 8:00 AM to about 10:00 PM. Come and go as you please.

I've blogged about this before. It's a small, low-key marathon—everyone reads, everyone is friendly, everyone has fun.

Bring a copy of Ulyssess, if possible, and a lawn chair or blanket.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Bloomsday 2014

Once again, if you enjoy a "literature marathon" and you live near Worcester, MA, try the Bloomsday (June 16) reading of Ulysses (portions of), staged by the Worcester County Poetry Association. Mark your calendar for 2015.

In contrast to the MDM, it's a small, informal, one-day affair that moves all over downtown Worcester. Plenty of opportunities to be "the reader", and you end up chatting with all the participants. Lovely folks, interesting city, fascinating text.

N.B. - Bloomsday is not their only event. Check their website.


Monday, June 17, 2013

Road Trip: Bloomsday in Worcester

If you love a good literary marathon, consider trekking to Worcester, MA any June 16 for the Bloomsday "ramble," reading selections from James Joyce's Ulysses. The Worcester County Poetry Association has held more Bloomsday events than the Whaling Museum has held MDMs.

Not plump, but plenty stately.
After last year's visit, I had to return for yesterday's doings. This time I mustered my fortitude to make the 8 A.M. kick-off at Bancroft Tower, which stands in for the Martello tower of chapter 1. Then I followed the ramble to its following six locations until Stephen and Leopold had relieved themselves, and Leopold's budget for the day was itemized.

This is a modest event compared to the MDM, with a DIY feel; our group never exceeded twenty. This means that you chat with everyone, and everyone reads (repeatedly).

As at the MDM, a return visit to Ulysses reveals fresh details and connections. It's nice to be reminded why this, for me, is an essential book—insightful, ingenious, moving, and... charming.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

The other end of the spectrum

A Low-Key Bloomsday Mini-Marathon


Bloomsday 2012
Click for a few snaps from the Ramble
Just back from the 17th Annual "Worcester Ramble," a day of readings from Joyce's Ulysses, staged at various locations throughout the city (Worcester, MA). Although only a few  months older than our beloved Moby-Dick Marathon (which turns 17 in January, 2013), they are quite different events.

First, the text. The Ramble doesn't even attempt to read the entire text of its target tome. Ulysses is about the same length as M-D, but it's hard (for me) to imagine any audience sitting through its entirety.  Joyce's stream-of-consciousness style — the non-sequiturs, invented words, oddball punctuation, etc. — and stylistic experiments — the language of Chapter 14 evolves through Latinate classical medieval, Germanic pre-Norman, High medieval, Renaissance,...  — may make the text interesting to read, but seem to make it less engaging to listen to. The abstruse references to Irish popular culture circa 1904 don't help its accessibility either.

Also, the story of Ulysses is less conventionally dramatic than that of M-D: a middle-aged advertising salesman and a twenty-something intellectual slacker wander around Dublin for a day, meeting each other after midnight, and returning to the elder's house to crash while the wife is upstairs basking in the glow her recent affair. Not at all like the apocalyptic confrontation that is the climax of irresistible Ahab meeting immovable Moby Dick ("from hell's heart I stab at thee..."). Many of us boomers were exposed to M-D in school or on TV, and the opportunity to painlessly familiarize ourselves with the text is tempting. Not so with Ulysses. Although John Huston directed a very fine version of Joyce's short-story The Dead, a creditable film version of Ulysses is yet to be made. (Perhaps the missing factor is a Ray Bradbury adaptation?)

Next, the venue. The MDM is truly blessed with the New Bedford Whaling Museum, its building as well as its staff and volunteers. Within the museum the MDM takes advantage of several "locations," and we merely have to walk across the street to experience Father Mapple's sermon in a chapel that was rebuilt in the image of John Huston's film set. The Ramble's audience numbers only about twenty, so organizers are free to lead us to locations throughout Worcester that are "evocative" of places in Dublin: a stone tower, a period cemetery, and a couple of pubs. (I was blue mouldy for the want of that pint...)

Bloomsday 2012
Finally, the size of the audience. By design or by fate, the Ramble is very much a small event. It has a DIY feel, a flexibility which the sleek vessel that is the MDM could not accommodate. The Ramble's organizers schedule a different set of chapters each year, but the group isn't hesitant to suggest changes as the day progresses. The quality of the readings is variable at both marathons, but the Ramble audience feels free to call out help with pronunciations or make extra-textual remarks; given the small numbers, these are tolerable disturbances. And while we have to suffer the hoarse, snarling shouts of some faux-salts at the MDM (dude, it's not Talk Like A Pirate Day!), there were no fake Irish accents heard at the Ramble, saints be praised.

Ulysses is much more focused on a particular day than Moby-Dick is focused on January 3, or on the city of New Bedford. Like Christmas, Bloomsday is one of those festivals that cannot be moved to the nearest weekend. The Ramble continues to be held on June 16, regardless of the day of the week.

If you're trapped in the cultural gravitational field of Boston or Northampton, keep an eye on the Worcester County Poetry Association, especially as Sunday, June 16, 2013 approaches.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:James_Joyce_Martello_Tower.jpg
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed.
Those words are as evocative to fans of James Joyce's Ulysses as "Call me Ishmael" is to us Marathoners. This day, June 16, is celebrated the world over as "Bloomsday," commemorating the Dublin day described in in Ulysses.

I can find no reference to Joyce having read Moby-Dick, or any Melville. Neither is mentioned in Richard Ellmann's definitive biography of Joyce. But that doesn't prohibit some disjointed blather...

It's no secret that most folks regard both Moby-Dick and Ulysses as over-praised, over-long, incomprehensible, boring, obsolete, and irrelevant. (I forgot "phallocentric.") (Years ago, when I mentioned to my boss that I was in a Ulysses study group, he, unbelieving, asked, "Why?") Public admission of reading either book marks you as someone who doesn't own a jumbo, flat-screen TV; maybe someone who doesn't have a TV, period!

We're told that Ishmael began his journey "some years ago—never mind how long precisely..."  reaching New Bedford "on a Saturday night in December," but Joyce is specific. Stephen Dedalus, Leopold Bloom, and company roam their city on Thursday, June 16, 1904, between 8:00 AM and sometime after 2:00 AM the following morning.

While Moby-Dick inundates the reader with details of whaling and whales, Ulysses does a similar thing with details of Dublin and its inhabitants. (This kind of "aggression against the reader" can be seen as the modern author's intentional destruction of the novel as a literary form; death by over-feeding. That's a post for another time.)

It's odd that Moby-Dick has an established marathon reading in a city through which its author-to-be simply passed on his way to somewhere else, while Ulysses rarely receives a public cover-to-cover reading in the city it describes in loving detail.

In Dublin, Bloomsday is celebrated with walking tours, re-enactments, concerts, and a mass "Irish breakfast," but is publicly read only in parts. Perhaps, as Lemuel suggests, it is the culturally ingrained "Calvinist mind-habits" of New England that make the MDM possible.


If the Pequod is the Moby-Dick equivalent of Ulysses's Dublin, the ideal MDM would be the annual read-through aboard the retired whaleship Charles Morgan.  Not that I'm arguing for fleeing New Bedford—an old whaleship lacks the space and comfort of the Whaling Museum, not to mention New Bedford's Bethel and the warm-hearted museum volunteers.

He rests. He has travelled.
With?
Sinbad the Sailer and Tinbad the Tailor and Jinbad the Jailer and Whinbad the Whaler and Ninbad the Nailer and Finbad the Failer and Binbad the Bailer and ...