i believe you OP. I will read the whole thing once I finish re-reading dubliners, portrait and ulysses. Pretty excited.
don't know how accurate is this, but I saved this description a while back from another thread and every once in a while I stop to admire joyce's genius
"The book is about a family asleep in Dublin: an amiable but curiously guilty husband, his forgiving wife, their lovely daughter, and their two competitive sons. But the narrative does not concern itself with describing their tossing and turning and snoring and such: during the course of the night, the father dreams, and Finnegans Wake is the text of this dream. And not just any dream, for his dreams have dreams of their own, and these dreams encompass the whole of history, with all its races, religions, mythologies, and languages; all its loves and hates, enmities and affinities – all melting and flowing into each other, revealing the cyclical, unchanging nature of life.
Finnegans Wake does not describe a dream; as mentioned above, the text is a dream. Or at least, it comes as close as Joyce could bring it to imitating a dream.
In Finnegans Wake, Joyce takes stream-of-consciousness narrative to the next level, plunging the reader into another world, one where the narrative conventions of the waking world are abolished. In dreams, an entirely different set of rules congeals from the fog, and since analysis is a tool of the waking mind, we are not granted immediate comprehension of these rules – that is, assuming they can even be understood. In dreams, we are utterly complacent when the strange woman we are talking to suddenly becomes our mother, or a house we have never seen rings with all the familiarity of home, and then becomes a castle; or a tree becomes a stone. The narrative of Finnegans Wake reflects this mercurial reality, this hypnogogic logic: characters and scenes melt into each other (sometimes literally!), and allegorical or mythic counterparts exist for everything and everybody. Here time collapses and becomes meaningless, and all identities are mutable – a series of masks to be shuffled and discarded as the need arises. In the Wake, even the words themselves are impossible to pin down to any one clear definition."