Ullysses sucks. It's a classic example of the "all about me" attitude that started with modernism and came to marvelous fruition in postmodernism.
But if you want to read about the mental masturbation of a middleaged guy who can't get his act together, really, then read it.
One critic said it was the ultimate culmination of the Romantic movement and its ethos of the Self. A novel that could only be understood by its writer.