Poor writing, or great?

Having enjoyed The Dubliners, I approached A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man with some enthusiasm, only to be disappointed. Even with heavy reliance on copious endnotes, only the beginning and ending of the novel was cohesive and comprehensible.

I concede that a reader thoroughly acquainted with the geography, history, politics and theology of Dublin may have achieved understanding, but for me the novel was a two-dimensional patchwork of meaning. Events and conversations at high school and university remind me of a radio play frequently overwhelmed with static interference. No character other than Stephen comes alive.

In reading Virginia Woolf, Arundati Roy and most of Henry James, I've encountered nothing so cryptic, although James's The Awkward Age comes closest. Ulysses was a 'must read', but is no longer.

I often feel that when I read a foreign novel I cannot find myself at home with them. The reason is there are many unfamiliar domains. For example when I read western novels and if I do not know their religion, particularly Christianity will be at disadvantage since I find many descriptions unfamiliar and with no clue I find the reading cumbersome. I have read Ulysses and yet I hate the book. When I read Pilgrims' Progress I found the book rooted in Christian faith. I think as long as I cannot understand Christianity properly the book will be a dull thing

One thing to keep in mind when reading Portrait is that the prose evolves from a pre-school boy's, to a school boy's, to a post-school young man's--like an embryo developing. It's a precursor to Ulysses which employs the same technique but to far more fantastic lengths.

That's no reason to like Joyce and his books. But the manner of composition is unprecedented as well as Joyce making the protagonists' daily, humdrum physiological and psychological activities the book's subject matter.

Sometimes intellectual curiosity is enough to get you through a book.