All novelists—except one—write stories. Almost everybody agrees that, in the absence of incidents that happen to a hero, and whose order creates suspense, we can hardly talk about novels. The one exception to this rule was, of course, James Joyce. He short-circuited both story and language. He used, instead, a complex mysterious tool, which wrote directly in our minds, our bodies, and our hearts. All his characters were actually one, in the end: they were all Joyce himself. His incid...
