Say hello to Finn MacCool and the Pooka for me

More and more I am beginning to think that, stereotypical though it may be, I need to be half lit to read some of these books we're assigned for my Irish Novel class. I'm loving the class and for the most part enjoying the reading we're doing, but something in the back of my brain is telling me they would go down a lot easier if I had a cold Harp in my left hand.

We just finished James Joyce, which despite all the Latin, I really enjoyed. I'm sort of seeing what the Big Deal about Joyce is because like it or not, man was artful in his use of words. I'm not about to rush out and nab Ulysses just yet or anything, but I'm developing an appreciation. Still, there were points where I felt like I could have gotten more out of the text had I had a healthy buzz going on.

Currently I'm reading At Swim, Two Birds and more than ever I feel like a I need a drink to get through it. It's a good book — cheeky and funny, artful too — but it's a frame story within a frame story within a frame story...within a frame story? And some of it deals with Irish Mythology. And...how do I say this? The bending of worlds? Like the Narrator of the story creates this character who creates other characters who then come to life, kind of, only he holds them hostage in the basement of a hotel. And seduces one of them. Or something?

See what I mean about needing a drink?

So I propose that we follow Dylan Thomas' suggestion. When asked for his opinion of At Swim, Two Birds, he said, "This is just the book to give your sister if she's a loud, dirty, boozy girl!" I'm starting a book club. Nature of the book club: We meet at the bar, get hammered, and read. Who's in?