Ulysses - James Joyce, Hans Wollschläger Three stars. I can't help but chuckle while clicking on the respective star, as it seems such an utterly absurd rating for a book that is really anything but mediocre.

Truth is: From my small-brained point of view there are brilliant passages and chapters that I devoured (if one can devour in baby-spoon portions, as this is the only way this book can be read I suppose), sometimes poetic, sometimes hilarious, sometimes just mind-bending.
There are other chapters my brain appreciates for the intellectual stunt they are performing but they aren't necessarily a pleasure to read. In fact they are hard, painful labour. And then there are chapters that might have caused irreversible damage to my brain.

To me, this book is the crazy, courageous, very clever and sometimes - yes it has to be said - extremely tiring attempt to turn every piece of dust on the streets of Dublin into a cross reference for the entire cultural history of mankind in general, and that of Ireland in particular while changing literary style chapter by chapter. Chapeau.
I am not sure this book is for reading though. It might be for studying, and one could do so for the rest of a lifetime. One day, when I am old and wise and have gained an unearthly tolerance to 400 out of 1122 pages of complete incomprehensibility I might pick this up again. Maybe sooner. For now I will happily lift the 1785g of German Annotated Ulysses back into it's shelf and watch it from a respectful distance.