So long as they stand, the neighboring

trunks.”

a similar indifference in a Chinese Zen poem:

摧殘枯木倚寒林 幾度逢春不變心

The dry-dead trunks lying in the cold woods show no interest in the recurrent Spring.

Artists including Jerry Stiller, Alec Baldwin, Paul Muldoon, Charles Busch, T. Ryder Smith, Paul Dooley, Bob Odenkirk, Marc Maron and Caraid O’Brien perform excerpts from James Joyce’s Ulysses for Radio Bloomsday on Wednesday June 16th from 7pm to 2am on WBAI 99.5FM in New York City and wbai.org. Radio Bloomsday continues the 32-year WBAI tradition of broadcasting marathon performances of James Joyce’s Ulysses every Bloomsday as New York’s leading artists gather in the WBAI studio on Wall Street to interpret this classic of modern literature.

The broadcast opens at 7pm with an invocation to the goddess of Irish poetry as
Barbara Vann performs the ninth century Gaelic poem, The Hag of Beare.
The first hour is devoted to the character of Stephen Dedalus, school teacher and aspiring writer. Pulitzer Prize winning poet Paul Muldoon performs Stephen Dedalus’ inner thoughts as he wrestles with his mind while walking on the beach in the complete Proteus episode.

The eight o’clock hour introduces the audience to Leopold Bloom as
Jerry Stiller performs Leopold Bloom’s morning ritual which includes
his dreams of literary greatness while sitting on the toilet. Amy
Stiller reads the words of Milly Bloom, Leopold’s daughter. Other
Bloom excerpts include performances by Zeroboy as Bloom at the cemetery,
Jim Fletcher as Bloom mellow on wine, Paul Dooley as Bloom contemplating lunch and comedian Marc Maron as Bloom in church.

At 9pm, we debut our new writers segment as poets Merideth Finn and Mac Barrett
read from their new work . Tara Bahna James performs an original tune based on the Irish revolutionary song The Night Before Larry was Stretched.

At 9.15 we return to Ulysses to explore the dozens of literary styles sampled by Joyce throughout the novel (and throughout our broadcast) from Dickensian prose to penny dreadful romances, from Celtic legends to school primers. Alec Baldwin performs in the style of a Celtic legend, Judy Graubart is a psychic conducting a séance, Bob Dishy performs in the style of sentimental gentlemen’s prose. Janet Coleman and David Dozer perform the verbal overture to the Sirens episode.

Starting at 10pm, we enter Ulysses in Nighttown as Stephen and Bloom
stumble through Dublin’s redlight district in the Circe episode which
is written in the form of a play and captures the similarities between
artistic creation and drunken revelry. Playwright and female
impersonator Charles Busch plays the whore mistress Madame Bella Cohen,
T Ryder Smith is the narrator and Aaron Beall is Bloom.

Around 11pm, we turn our sites to Molly Bloom, the singer, the woman,
the artist in bed. This three hour segment begins with real life couple John O’Callaghan (Stargate Atlantis) and Jaason Simmons (Baywatch) reciting Lord Byron’s poetry, which Bloom used to woo Molly when they were courting. Alec Baldwin then reads James Joyce’s love letters to his wife Nora, the inspiration for Molly Bloom.

As always, the evening ends with the complete Molly Bloom monologue, performed by Galway native Caraid O’Brien, as she thinks about her lovers, her husband, her children and her stalled artistic career.

Other performers who will be featured in the broadcast this year
include Brian O’Doherty, Kate Valk, Mara McEwin, James Kennedy,
Richard Maxwell, Tory Vasquez, Anna Goodman-Herrick, Mara McEwin,
Rosie Goldensohn, Jay Smith, Barika Edwards, Emily Mitchell and many more.

To introduce newbies to the book and to inform our fans of cast
updates, Radio Bloomsday has a blog at http://www.RadioBloomsday.blogspot.com
with new postings daily. Molly Bloom is twittering @mollyinbed

Radio Bloomsday is directed by Caraid O’Brien; and produced by Larry
Josephson, Peabody-Award-Winner and President of The Radio Foundation.
The Artistic Director is Janet Coleman, host and producer of Cat Radio
Cafe and former WBAI Arts Director. The broadcast is made possible in
part by a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts because a
great nation deserves great art.

http://jasonbrophy.wordpress.com/2010/05/25/proof-god-exists/

I am unilingual; for me, to judge between two translations is to prefer one of two remarkably similar yet remarkably different English texts.

.
The Alastair Reid translation . . . :
.
.
THE OTHER TIGER

And the craft createth a semblance.
– Morris, Sigurd the Volsung (1876)

I think of a tiger. The fading light enhances
the vast complexities of the Library
and seems to set the bookshelves at a distance;
powerful, innocent, bloodstained, and new-made,
it will prowl through its jungle and its morning
and leave its footprint on the muddy edge
of a river with a name unknown to it
(in its world, there are no names, nor past, nor future,
only the sureness of the present moment)
and it will cross the wilderness of distance
and sniff out in the woven labyrinth
of smells the smell peculiar to morning
and the scent on the air of deer, delectable.
Behind the lattice of bamboo, I notice
its stripes, and I sense its skeleton
under the magnificence of the quivering skin.
In vain the convex oceans and the deserts
spread themselves across the earth between us;
from this one house in a far-off seaport
in South America, I dream you, follow you,
oh tiger on the fringes of the Ganges.

Evening spreads in my spirit and I keep thinking
that the tiger I am calling up in my poem
is a tiger made of symbols and of shadows,
a set of literary images,
scraps remembered from encyclopedias,
and not the deadly tiger, the fateful jewel
that in the sun or the deceptive moonlight
follows its paths, in Bengal or Sumatra,
of love, of indolence, of dying.
Against the tiger of symbols I have set
the real one, the hot-blooded one
that savages a herd of buffalo,
and today, the third of August, ’59,
its patient shadow moves across the plain,
but yet, the act of naming it, of guessing
what is its nature and its circumstance
creates a fiction, not a living creature,
not one of those that prowl on the earth.

Let us look for a third tiger. This one
will be a form in my dream like all the others,
a system, an arrangement of human language,
and not the flesh-and-bone tiger
that, out of reach of all mythologies,
paces the earth. I know all this; yet something
drives me to this ancient, perverse adventure,
foolish and vague, yet still I keep on looking
throughout the evening for the other tiger,
the other tiger, the one not in this poem.