Today is James Joyce's Bloomsday, as I saw when I read the Writer's Almanac this morning. I read Ulysses when I was a freshman in college, in a first semester survey of great books that included Homer's Odyssey, Virgil's Aeneid, Dante's Inferno, and Cervantes' Don Quixote. I read them all, somehow, wrote lengthy papers and even succeeded on exams. But that is not to imply that I remember much of what I read.
I put on flower earrings this morning in honor of Bloomsday, having been reminded by the Writer's Almanac that the Bloom is the surname of Harold and Molly Bloom, but not at all sure that flowers play any part in the novel.