The Wake

Photos of books pretty much fall into the 'emergency blip' category. But having enjoyed Michael Chabon's essay on the year he spent reading Joyce's last masterpiece, I took up my copy - purchased for £2.95 new in 1977, the year I left school. Not with any intention of starting at the beginning and persevering to the end, you understand, but to do what I do from time to time, which is to read out loud to myself half a page or so picked at random, until my voice goes hoarse.

It's therapeutic. It usually makes me laugh. And it often clears that U-bend designed to catch the detritus of the conscious mind. We make our own entertainment round here, son.