Mary Colum, Review in Freeman 1922
Mr. James Joyce's Ulysses belongs to that class of literature which has always aroused more interest than any other. Although Ulysses is new and original in its form, it is old in its class or type: it actually, if not obviously, belongs to the Confession class of literature, and although everything in it takes place in less than twenty-four hours, it really contains the life of a man. It is the Confessions of James Joyce, a most sincere and cunningly-wrought autobiographical book; it is as if he had said, 'Here I am; here is what country and race have bred me, what religion and life and literature have done to me.' Not only his previous book, Portrait of the Artist, but all of Joyce's work, gives the impression of being literally derived from experience; and from internal evidence in Ulysses, notably the conversation of Stephen Dedalus on Shakespeare in the National Library, one suspects that Joyce believes only in the autobiographical in art.