A Little Cloud, by James Joyce

I know, I know, I’m late for Bloomsday, and at this point, I thought you’d have forgotten.

My friends, why haven’t you forgotten?

I mean, you surely know that the world is breaking the sound barrier with how fast it seems to be going to wherever this cozy handbasket might be taking it, wherever it is handbaskets go.

But there you are, thinking about Bloomsday, and wondering to me where your podcast was. I was a little bit flattered, but mostly, this has sent me on a big personal trip round the block of introspection, which is in a really run-down part of town.

I began recording these pieces in early 2005, when I was underemployed and uninspired and ensconced in a world that I thought was being carried faster than the speed of sound straight to a place of agnostic hell, &cet. I was young then, and thought that maybe instead of fighting back against an oppressive and terroristic government, we could instead insert earbuds and drown ourselves in literature, or something. I swear it sounded almost anarchistic at the time.

And I can’t even repeat it today, because I’m old and it’s saccharine, but the sentiment is the same. If you need to plug your ears, have a podcast. Here’s some awfully apt Joyce.

6 thoughts on “A Little Cloud, by James Joyce”

  1. Thank you Miette! I’ve enjoyed listening to every podcast you have published. I’d love to hear that you plan to narrate more books in the future.

  2. Dear Miette,
    I am thrilled to see that you have not forgotten us. I still go back through your collection of stories whenever I need something soothing and inspiring.
    If you do contemplate recording more, your loyal followers will be listening.

  3. Hey! I just found you, and I fell asleep listening to you last night! It’s amazing- your voice, really!

  4. Just heard about you! I am going to listen tonight while trying to fall asleep! THANK YOU

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