Surrealist Sabotage and the War on Work by Abigail Susik (review)

889 seems like a concrete timeline, the concept is complicated. After all, “[t]imeline, time as a line, a line of time: in every case, it’s an image invented so that an abstraction can seem concrete” (170). The first date is not when Ulysses as a concept was formed, or even when the first materials that would become the novel were written. Furthermore, revisions to the text continued well into 1922. Bulson creates his own compelling timelines that cross-reference known events that took place in relation to the novel, Joyce’s own discussions of the novel in his correspondences, and what previous scholars have asserted. It’s messy, and that’s okay. What is perhaps more important is that Joyce felt compelled to situate his text in a specific time spectrum that aligns with “a highly personalized timeline with historical, biographical, and other symbolic correspondences” (201). Ulysses by Numbers is a fascinating study of what computational analysis can bring to our understanding of Joyce’s style, characters, and innovations on time in narrative. While I do have some reservations about some of Bulson’s methodological decisions (such as his definition of the paragraph, which collapses dialogue into paragraphs in a way that is not always consistent), I am simultaneously appreciative of the transparency that allows me to make that assessment. By being transparent about the methodology (and his own qualms), Bulson is also transparent about the benefits and downfalls of computational analysis. His “3pilogue” is a frank discussion of the potential for “miscounts” and “missed counts.” Raw data, after all, is never simply raw data; it is defined by human-constructed parameters. And I did notice, in a lovely moment of near selffulfilling prophecy, Bulson’s work included a (very) minor discrepancy between a figure and the written text. In the text, he describes ninety-seven common acquaintances between Molly and Leopold Bloom, but his figure lists ninety-eight (130, 131). It’s almost a delight to discover, since Bulson has also called out other examples of people who have miscounted Ulysses, including Jacques Derrida miscounting “yes”es and even Joyce miscounting characters in an episode—so Bulson is in good company. Flawed data, he argues, is better than no data. Acknowledging the potential for flaws makes the literary analysis portion of computational analysis vital to this study. Bulson ultimately argues that the numbers in Ulysses are a central symphony, adding complexity and depth to the work. The numbers are “not just data; they’re music” (38). To echo Leopold Bloom, “Numbers it is.”