James Joyce – Dubliners (1914)
Fiction – 240 pages – my copy (paperback; 2000) bought for £1.50 from a second hand bookshop in Truro, summer of 2009
- 4 nods out of 5 -
James Joyce is one of the heavyweights of modern literature – a Muhammad Ali of the written page – revered from Dublin to London, and from Paris to New York. Before the perplexing and mammoth reads of Ulysses and Finnegan’s Wake came Dubliners; a collection of short stories amounting to Joyce’s first substantial work of fiction.
Similarly with all of Joyce’s other works, this collection concerns itself with all things Irish, from the death of the reverend in ‘The Sisters’, to the warring politicians of ‘Ivy Day in the Committee Room’, through to Gabriel’s’ ruminating in the very last story ‘The Dead’. The speech, the language, the tone and the theme – all more Irish than a pint of Dublin brewed Guinness.
These are the stories (bar that of ‘After the Race’) of common people, of whom bring Dublin to life. Although many of the stories may lack any action or actual plot, each is blessed with a Joycean ending epiphany; a dawning realisation of their purpose and their life. Due to the volume of characters, these range from the small to the sublime, with the constant being Joyce’s use of words. Take this example from ‘Araby’, the story of a boy who desires to purchase a gift for a girl:
‘Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned anguish and anger’ (p.28).
The thread of the stories is Dublin itself, and although the book does not follow a narrative, it does follow a progression of age; from the innocence and confusion of youth in the opening chapters, through to love and lust of the middle chapters, ending on those long in the tooth. The book’s ending story, ‘The Dead’, has garnered most attention, forming the basis of films; its fifty pages indicate Joyce’s admiration of its characters. But it cannot compare with the striking images of the first opening four stories, particularly ‘The Sisters’, ‘Araby’ and ‘Eveline’. Joyce appears more comfortable and intent when writing in a child’s perspective, something he would follow up in The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
This edition – a modern Penguin Classics – benefits from a welcome Introduction and comprehensive notes from the hands of Terence Brown. Dubliners is a purchase for the student of Modernist literature, as well as an embracing opening to those yet still to meet this heavyweight of fiction.
Fiction – 240 pages – my copy (paperback; 2000) bought for £1.50 from a second hand bookshop in Truro, summer of 2009
- 4 nods out of 5 -
James Joyce is one of the heavyweights of modern literature – a Muhammad Ali of the written page – revered from Dublin to London, and from Paris to New York. Before the perplexing and mammoth reads of Ulysses and Finnegan’s Wake came Dubliners; a collection of short stories amounting to Joyce’s first substantial work of fiction.
Similarly with all of Joyce’s other works, this collection concerns itself with all things Irish, from the death of the reverend in ‘The Sisters’, to the warring politicians of ‘Ivy Day in the Committee Room’, through to Gabriel’s’ ruminating in the very last story ‘The Dead’. The speech, the language, the tone and the theme – all more Irish than a pint of Dublin brewed Guinness.
These are the stories (bar that of ‘After the Race’) of common people, of whom bring Dublin to life. Although many of the stories may lack any action or actual plot, each is blessed with a Joycean ending epiphany; a dawning realisation of their purpose and their life. Due to the volume of characters, these range from the small to the sublime, with the constant being Joyce’s use of words. Take this example from ‘Araby’, the story of a boy who desires to purchase a gift for a girl:
‘Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned anguish and anger’ (p.28).
The thread of the stories is Dublin itself, and although the book does not follow a narrative, it does follow a progression of age; from the innocence and confusion of youth in the opening chapters, through to love and lust of the middle chapters, ending on those long in the tooth. The book’s ending story, ‘The Dead’, has garnered most attention, forming the basis of films; its fifty pages indicate Joyce’s admiration of its characters. But it cannot compare with the striking images of the first opening four stories, particularly ‘The Sisters’, ‘Araby’ and ‘Eveline’. Joyce appears more comfortable and intent when writing in a child’s perspective, something he would follow up in The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
This edition – a modern Penguin Classics – benefits from a welcome Introduction and comprehensive notes from the hands of Terence Brown. Dubliners is a purchase for the student of Modernist literature, as well as an embracing opening to those yet still to meet this heavyweight of fiction.
