I have little to say about Episode 13, Nausicaa – in which Leopold Bloom is at the beach, masturbating (good thing he didn't do it in the tub this morning, as planned, eh?) while watching a young woman named Gerty who is turning him on by lifting her skirt to reveal her thighs – is at the very least an easier read than the last several episodes because it's written (mostly) in full sentences and involves only four characters to keep track of and, (in my humble opinion), is a breath of fresh air because it involves a majority of female characters and feminine perspectives, which have been sorely lacking thus far in the book. It doesn't even bother me that Joyce is making fun of women and what he evidently suggests is their habit of romanticization of everything around them).
The question at this point, though, is still... does anybody care? (Besides Joyce scholars and Bloom nerds, of course.)
I know I don't. I wouldn't read Joyce again if you paid me. Life is too short, and there are too many other good books in the world. Not that I'm going to quit, but I do NOT recommend this book.