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Nora is leaving her little village in Ireland to go to London, but no one knows why she is actually leaving and what horrors she will have to encounter before she comes back. A classic from the Irish language.
Everyone remembers the beautiful tale about the princes who were turned into swans and saved by the nettle coats made by their sister, but what became of the brother who had a missing sleeve, the one left with one swan’s wing?
“Here is your legacy, James Joyce, John-Paul Finnegan roared over the waves, here is your legacy — two hundred chortling fucks eating sausages! You have really left your fucking mark, James Joyce. Oh yes you have! You are the KING OF MODERNISM! “