In a letter to Joyce, Pound expressed distaste for the description of
Bloom's "morning deposition" in Ulysses, which he felt detracted from the
quality of the things contrasted (that's the gist of it anyway; I don't have
Pound/Joyce to hand).

Whatever one thinks of it as a piece of Joyce criticism (I don't agree with
it myself), I've always thought it odd that the delicate, even precious,
author of that letter went on within only a few months or years to write the
'Hell' Cantos XIV and XV. These Cantos seem to me a grave error of judgment
both ethically and aesthetically, calling into question (you could argue)
the integrity of the surrounding matter; perhaps it is only because Cantos
XIII and XVI are so magnificent that the 'Drafts of XXX Cantos' survives as
one of the great books of the last century.

The tone of this list seems to be taking a nose dive into the cesspool. Give
us a break will you?

Richard Edwards
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