For most of the literati, this equation goes without saying, since pubs are so intimately connected to the world of James Joyce and his Irishmen and women, and, of course, Bloomsday—today, June 16—is also the date immortalized in Joyce’s Ulysses, oft declared by Those In The Know to be the greatest novel of the 20th century.
As it happens, my wife (Judith Eve Lipton) and I agree entirely with Those In The Know, and have long adored Ulysses, even to the point of obsession: We’ve read it aloud to each other, beginning to end, on the beaches of Maui during an extended vacation/research sojourn, have each read it separately more than once, studied several guides to its intricate delights, and listened to multiple audio recordings as well as commentaries. Now, after having written 29 previous books, it turns out that the official pub (as in publication) date for my 30th, and seventh with Judith, falls on (you guessed it) Bloomsday!
How cool is that? Way cool.
To write a book is an act of arrogance, even more than is writing a blog, since it presumes that you have something to say that others will want to read and, moreover, to invest some hours in doing so. And this is where the convergence of pub date and Bloomsday is fulfilling intellectually no less than emotionally. To my mind, the key concept of Ulysses is the valorization of everyday life as lived by ordinary people: Most of us are no more superficially impressive than Leopold Bloom (human, all too human, as Nietzsche would say), although, like the ineffable Mr. Bloom, we all have Odysseus inside us—wise, tricky, adventurous, courageous, seductive, and so forth. Also arrogant.
Our book is Payback: Why We Retaliate, Redirect Aggression and Seek Revenge (Oxford University Press), and its primary theme is that whereas it is well-known that violence causes pain, equally important—and not widely appreciated—is that the equation works the other way as well: Pain causes violence. We originally intended to call the book “Passing the Pain Along,” then toyed with “The Three Rs: Retaliation, Revenge, and Redirected Aggression.” It explores the biology, psychology, sociology, history, anthropology, literary, and theological aspects of pain-passing (in animals, too).
As chance would have it, Leopold Bloom turns out to be a notable model of restraint when it comes to passing along his pain, whether generated by Stephen Dedalus’s gentle rejection of his quasi-paternal offer or Molly’s less-than-genteel infidelity with Blazes Boylan. Mr. Bloom is one of our heroes, specifically because payback, the phenomenon, is not one of his signature themes, although Payback, the book, is one of ours.
