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螣喂 谓蔚魏蟻慰委
螣喂 螡蔚魏蚁慰委 纬蟻维蠁蟿畏魏伪谓 蟿畏 蠂蟻慰谓喂维 1906-1907. 螘委谓伪喂 蟿慰 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委慰 未喂萎纬畏渭伪 蟿蠅谓 芦螖慰蠀尾位喂谓苇味蝇谓禄, 蟿畏蟼 蟽蠀位位慰纬萎蟼 蟿蠅谓 未蔚魏伪蟺苇谓蟿蔚 未喂畏纬畏渭维蟿蠅谓 蟺慰蠀 慰 韦味蠈蠀蟼 伪蟻蠂喂蟽蔚 谓伪 纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 蟿慰 1904, 蟽蔚 畏位喂魏魏委伪 22 蔚蟿蠋谓, 魏伪喂 未蔚谓 蔚魏未蠈胃畏魏蔚 蟺伪蟻维 蟿慰 1914, 渭蔚蟿维 伪蟺蠈 蟺慰位位苇蟼 未蠀蟽魏慰位委蔚蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠁慰蠉 蟺苇蟻伪蟽蔚 未喂伪未慰蠂喂魏维 伪蟺蠈 蟿伪 蠂苇蟻喂伪 蟿蟻喂蠋谓 蔚魏未慰蟿蠋谓. 螠蔚 蟿慰蠀蟼 芦螖慰蠀尾位喂谓苇味慰蠀蟼禄 慰 韦味蠈蠀蟼 胃苇位畏蟽蔚, 魏伪胃蠋蟼 慰 委未喂慰蟼 蔚尉萎纬畏蟽蔚, 谓伪 蟽蠀谓胃苇蟽蔚喂 苇谓伪 魏蔚蠁维位伪喂慰 蟿畏蟼 畏胃喂魏萎蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠂蠋蟻伪蟼 蟿慰蠀, 魏伪喂 未喂维位蔚尉蔚 蟿慰 螖慰蠀尾位委谓慰 蠅蟼 蟿蠈蟺慰 蠈蟺慰蠀 蔚魏蟿蠀位委蟽蟽慰谓蟿伪喂 慰喂 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀, 纬喂伪蟿委 蟺委蟽蟿蔚蠀蔚 蟺蠅蟼 畏 蟺蠈位畏 伪蠀蟿萎 萎蟿伪谓 蟿慰 魏苇谓蟿蟻慰 渭喂伪蟼 畏胃喂魏萎蟼 芦蟺伪蟻维位蠀蟽畏蟼禄 -魏喂 蠈蟿伪谓 位苇蔚喂 芦蟺伪蟻维位蠀蟽畏禄 未蔚谓 蔚谓谓慰蔚委 蠂伪位维蟻蠅蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 畏胃蠋谓, 伪位位维 蟿畏谓 伪蟺蠋位蔚喂伪 尾慰蠀位畏蟿喂魏蠋谓 蟺蟻慰尾慰位蠋谓, 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰蠀蟽委伪 谓蔚蠀蟻慰蠄蠀蠂喂魏慰蠉 蟿蠈谓慰蠀, 蟿慰谓 蔚谓 味蠅萎 胃维谓伪蟿慰.
螣喂 萎蟻蠅蔚蟼 蟿蠅谓 未喂畏纬畏渭维蟿蠅谓 伪蠀蟿蠋谓, 慰喂 螖慰蠀尾位喂谓苇味慰喂, 蟽蠀谓蔚喂未畏蟿慰蟺慰喂慰蠉谓 蟽蟿慰 魏蟻委蟽喂渭慰 蟽畏渭蔚委慰 蟿畏蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼 蟺蠅蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 胃蠉渭伪蟿伪 伪蠀蟿萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪蟻维位蠀蟽畏蟼, 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蠀谓蔚喂未畏蟿慰蟺慰委畏蟽畏 伪蠀蟿萎 蟽蠀谓喂蟽蟿维 纬喂' 伪蠀蟿慰蠉蟼 渭喂维谓 伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏 (epiphany). 螒蠀蟿维 蟿伪 未蠉慰 渭慰蟿委尾伪 (蟺伪蟻维位蠀蟽畏-伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏) 未喂伪蟿蟻苇蠂慰蠀谓 蠈位伪 蟿伪 未喂畏纬萎渭伪蟿伪 蟿蠅谓 芦螖慰蠀尾位喂谓苇味蝇谓禄 魏伪喂 魏慰蟻蠀蠁蠋谓慰谓蟿伪喂 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 螡蔚魏蟻慰蠉蟼, 渭蔚 蟿畏 蟽蠀谓蟿蟻喂蟺蟿喂魏萎 伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏 魏伪喂 伪蠀蟿蔚蟺委纬谓蠅蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 螕魏维渭蟺蟻喂蔚位 螝慰谓蟻蠈蠀, 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺蠈 伪谓伪蟻委胃渭畏蟿蔚蟼 谓蠉尉蔚喂蟼, 蟿蟻慰蟺苇蟼 魏伪喂 蟿蔚蠂谓维蟽渭伪蟿伪 蟿畏蟼 纬蟻伪蠁萎蟼, 蟺慰蠀 蟺蟻慰蔚蟿慰喂渭维味慰蠀谓 魏伪喂 蟺伪蟻伪蟺苇渭蟺慰蠀谓 蟽蟿畏谓 蟿蔚位喂魏萎, 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏萎 苇魏尾伪蟽畏.
螚 苇魏未慰蟽畏 蟺蔚蟻喂位伪渭尾维谓蔚喂 蟺蟻蠈位慰纬慰 蟿慰蠀 螁蟻畏 螠蟺蔚蟻位萎, 蟽畏渭蔚喂蠋蟽蔚喂蟼 纬喂伪 蟿慰 螖慰蠀尾位委谓慰 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 喂蟻位伪谓未苇味喂魏畏 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 慰喂 慰蟺慰委蔚蟼 位蔚喂蟿慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓 蔚蟺蔚尉畏纬畏渭伪蟿喂魏维 蟽蟿慰 魏蔚委渭蔚谓慰, 魏伪胃蠋蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰 维蟻胃蟻慰 蟿慰蠀 巍委蟿蟽伪蟻谓蟿 '螘位位渭伪谓 芦韦慰 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂魏蠈 蟿蠅谓 螡蔚魏蟻蠋谓禄.
螣喂 萎蟻蠅蔚蟼 蟿蠅谓 未喂畏纬畏渭维蟿蠅谓 伪蠀蟿蠋谓, 慰喂 螖慰蠀尾位喂谓苇味慰喂, 蟽蠀谓蔚喂未畏蟿慰蟺慰喂慰蠉谓 蟽蟿慰 魏蟻委蟽喂渭慰 蟽畏渭蔚委慰 蟿畏蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼 蟺蠅蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 胃蠉渭伪蟿伪 伪蠀蟿萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪蟻维位蠀蟽畏蟼, 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蠀谓蔚喂未畏蟿慰蟺慰委畏蟽畏 伪蠀蟿萎 蟽蠀谓喂蟽蟿维 纬喂' 伪蠀蟿慰蠉蟼 渭喂维谓 伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏 (epiphany). 螒蠀蟿维 蟿伪 未蠉慰 渭慰蟿委尾伪 (蟺伪蟻维位蠀蟽畏-伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏) 未喂伪蟿蟻苇蠂慰蠀谓 蠈位伪 蟿伪 未喂畏纬萎渭伪蟿伪 蟿蠅谓 芦螖慰蠀尾位喂谓苇味蝇谓禄 魏伪喂 魏慰蟻蠀蠁蠋谓慰谓蟿伪喂 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 螡蔚魏蟻慰蠉蟼, 渭蔚 蟿畏 蟽蠀谓蟿蟻喂蟺蟿喂魏萎 伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏 魏伪喂 伪蠀蟿蔚蟺委纬谓蠅蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 螕魏维渭蟺蟻喂蔚位 螝慰谓蟻蠈蠀, 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺蠈 伪谓伪蟻委胃渭畏蟿蔚蟼 谓蠉尉蔚喂蟼, 蟿蟻慰蟺苇蟼 魏伪喂 蟿蔚蠂谓维蟽渭伪蟿伪 蟿畏蟼 纬蟻伪蠁萎蟼, 蟺慰蠀 蟺蟻慰蔚蟿慰喂渭维味慰蠀谓 魏伪喂 蟺伪蟻伪蟺苇渭蟺慰蠀谓 蟽蟿畏谓 蟿蔚位喂魏萎, 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏萎 苇魏尾伪蟽畏.
螚 苇魏未慰蟽畏 蟺蔚蟻喂位伪渭尾维谓蔚喂 蟺蟻蠈位慰纬慰 蟿慰蠀 螁蟻畏 螠蟺蔚蟻位萎, 蟽畏渭蔚喂蠋蟽蔚喂蟼 纬喂伪 蟿慰 螖慰蠀尾位委谓慰 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 喂蟻位伪谓未苇味喂魏畏 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 慰喂 慰蟺慰委蔚蟼 位蔚喂蟿慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓 蔚蟺蔚尉畏纬畏渭伪蟿喂魏维 蟽蟿慰 魏蔚委渭蔚谓慰, 魏伪胃蠋蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰 维蟻胃蟻慰 蟿慰蠀 巍委蟿蟽伪蟻谓蟿 '螘位位渭伪谓 芦韦慰 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂魏蠈 蟿蠅谓 螡蔚魏蟻蠋谓禄.
116 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1914
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About the author
James Joyce
1,962听books9,058听followersA profound influence of literary innovations of Irish writer James Augustine Aloysius Joyce on modern fiction includes his works,
Ulysses
(1922) and
Finnegans Wake
(1939).
Sylvia Beach published the first edition of Ulysses of James Augustine Aloysius Joyce in 1922.
John Stanislaus Joyce, an impoverished gentleman and father of James Joyce, nine younger surviving siblings, and two other siblings who died of typhoid, failed in a distillery business and tried all kinds of other professions, including politics and tax collecting. The Roman Catholic Church dominated life of Mary Jane Murray, an accomplished pianist and his mother. In spite of poverty, the family struggled to maintain a solid middle-class fa莽ade.
Jesuits at Clongowes Wood college, Clane, and then Belvedere college in Dublin educated Joyce from the age of six years; he graduated in 1897. In 1898, he entered the University College, Dublin. Joyce published first an essay on When We Dead Awaken , play of Heinrich Ibsen, in the Fortnightly Review in 1900. At this time, he also began writing lyric poems.
After graduation in 1902, the twenty-year-old Joyce went to Paris, where he worked as a journalist, as a teacher, and in other occupations under difficult financial conditions. He spent a year in France, and when a telegram about his dying mother arrived, he returned. Not long after her death, Joyce traveled again. He left Dublin in 1904 with Nora Barnacle, a chambermaid, whom he married in 1931.
Joyce published Dubliners in 1914, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in 1916, a play Exiles in 1918 and Ulysses in 1922. In 1907, Joyce published a collection of poems, Chamber Music .
At the outset of the Great War, Joyce moved with his family to Z眉rich. In Z眉rich, Joyce started to develop the early chapters of Ulysses, first published in France because of censorship troubles in the Great Britain and the United States, where the book became legally available only in 1933.
In March 1923, Joyce in Paris started Finnegans Wake, his second major work; glaucoma caused chronic eye troubles that he suffered at the same time. Transatlantic review of Ford Madox Ford in April 1924 carried the first segment of the novel, called part of Work in Progress. He published the final version in 1939.
Some critics considered the work a masterpiece, though many readers found it incomprehensible. After the fall of France in World War II, Joyce returned to Z眉rich, where he died, still disappointed with the reception of Finnegans Wake.
Sylvia Beach published the first edition of Ulysses of James Augustine Aloysius Joyce in 1922.
John Stanislaus Joyce, an impoverished gentleman and father of James Joyce, nine younger surviving siblings, and two other siblings who died of typhoid, failed in a distillery business and tried all kinds of other professions, including politics and tax collecting. The Roman Catholic Church dominated life of Mary Jane Murray, an accomplished pianist and his mother. In spite of poverty, the family struggled to maintain a solid middle-class fa莽ade.
Jesuits at Clongowes Wood college, Clane, and then Belvedere college in Dublin educated Joyce from the age of six years; he graduated in 1897. In 1898, he entered the University College, Dublin. Joyce published first an essay on When We Dead Awaken , play of Heinrich Ibsen, in the Fortnightly Review in 1900. At this time, he also began writing lyric poems.
After graduation in 1902, the twenty-year-old Joyce went to Paris, where he worked as a journalist, as a teacher, and in other occupations under difficult financial conditions. He spent a year in France, and when a telegram about his dying mother arrived, he returned. Not long after her death, Joyce traveled again. He left Dublin in 1904 with Nora Barnacle, a chambermaid, whom he married in 1931.
Joyce published Dubliners in 1914, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in 1916, a play Exiles in 1918 and Ulysses in 1922. In 1907, Joyce published a collection of poems, Chamber Music .
At the outset of the Great War, Joyce moved with his family to Z眉rich. In Z眉rich, Joyce started to develop the early chapters of Ulysses, first published in France because of censorship troubles in the Great Britain and the United States, where the book became legally available only in 1933.
In March 1923, Joyce in Paris started Finnegans Wake, his second major work; glaucoma caused chronic eye troubles that he suffered at the same time. Transatlantic review of Ford Madox Ford in April 1924 carried the first segment of the novel, called part of Work in Progress. He published the final version in 1939.
Some critics considered the work a masterpiece, though many readers found it incomprehensible. After the fall of France in World War II, Joyce returned to Z眉rich, where he died, still disappointed with the reception of Finnegans Wake.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,725 reviews
November 22, 2019
Can a story leave your heart aching like this after just a few short pages?! I鈥檝e just learned that it can indeed. The beautiful, expressive prose delighted me. The nostalgic quality charmed me. The melancholic air indulged my current state of emotion while reading. I don鈥檛 know what I was expecting, but James Joyce exceeded whatever I could have possibly been looking for in this little novella.
"He was in a dark part of the hall gazing up the staircase. A woman was standing near the top of the first flight, in the shadow also. He could not see her face but he could see the terra-cotta and salmon-pink panels of her skirt which the shadow made appear black and white鈥� He asked himself what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of. If he were a painter he would paint her in that attitude. Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off the light ones. Distant Music he would call the picture if he were a painter."
A holiday party hardly seems the place for a revelation, and I certainly didn鈥檛 anticipate what came next. A song, a painting, a word, anything can spark a memory. Are we living the life we should be 鈥� a life filled with beauty and passion? Or, are we wasting opportunities, and letting them slip through our fingers? I can鈥檛 say too much or I鈥檒l spoil the perfection of the last few pages of this piece.
Why does my literary diet not include James Joyce? He鈥檚 Irish, for heaven鈥檚 sake! It鈥檚 no wonder his writing appealed to me so much.
"Like the tender fire of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke upon and illumined his memory. He longed to recall to her those moments, to make her forget the years of their dull existence together and remember only their moments of ecstasy."
"He was in a dark part of the hall gazing up the staircase. A woman was standing near the top of the first flight, in the shadow also. He could not see her face but he could see the terra-cotta and salmon-pink panels of her skirt which the shadow made appear black and white鈥� He asked himself what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of. If he were a painter he would paint her in that attitude. Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off the light ones. Distant Music he would call the picture if he were a painter."
A holiday party hardly seems the place for a revelation, and I certainly didn鈥檛 anticipate what came next. A song, a painting, a word, anything can spark a memory. Are we living the life we should be 鈥� a life filled with beauty and passion? Or, are we wasting opportunities, and letting them slip through our fingers? I can鈥檛 say too much or I鈥檒l spoil the perfection of the last few pages of this piece.
Why does my literary diet not include James Joyce? He鈥檚 Irish, for heaven鈥檚 sake! It鈥檚 no wonder his writing appealed to me so much.
"Like the tender fire of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke upon and illumined his memory. He longed to recall to her those moments, to make her forget the years of their dull existence together and remember only their moments of ecstasy."
January 19, 2022
The Dead, James Joyce
The Dead, is the final story in the 1914 collection Dubliners, by James Joyce. The other stories in the collection are shorter, "The Dead" is long enough to be described as a novella.
The story of a music-loving family on Christmas Eve and at a party. At the party, Gabriel is an educated man, teacher and columnist, the literary columnist of the newspapers. And his handsome woman, Greta, has a special role. The description of the party, from the arrival of the guests, and the shaking of the clothes and the snow on the hats and shoulders, to the arrangement of the plates, and the type of food and drink and the cutlery, and from the two-person to multi-person dances, the conversations between the guests. All and sundry, meticulously and masterfully, and very skillfully written.
The beauty of the story lies in the conversations of the guests, which introduce the reader to the city of Dublin, and the atmosphere of those days, and to the artistry, and art-friendliness of its people, and to the "streets," "sculptures," "chariots," and the raging warmth of emotions.
Young people get acquainted; The reader feels that Dublin is the beginning of the twentieth century, and welcomes the great "Italian" singers with the passionate youth of Dublin. The story is rightly called "the dead" because it tells of family members, friends, artists, musicians, and singers of the recent past, until a flip pulls the story in a special direction.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 乇賵夭 亘蹖爻鬲 賵 賴卮鬲賲 賲丕賴 跇賵卅賳 爻丕賱2005賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
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毓賳賵丕賳: 賲乇丿诏丕賳貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩蹖賲夭 噩賵蹖爻貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 毓賱蹖乇囟丕 賲鬲蹖賳 賳蹖丕貨 賲卮賴丿貙 爻禺賳 诏爻鬲乇貙 爻丕賱1389貨 丿乇228氐貨
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 芦賲乇丿诏丕賳禄貙 卮乇丨 蹖讴 賲蹖賴賲丕賳蹖 丿乇 卮亘 芦讴乇蹖爻賲爻禄貙 丿乇 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳 丕蹖乇賱賳丿禄 丕爻鬲貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿乇賵賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲賴丕 乇丕 賲蹖讴丕賵賳丿貙 賮囟丕蹖 亘蹖乇賵賳 賲噩賱爻 乇丕 賵氐賮 賲蹖讴賳賳丿 賵 亘賴 丿乇賵賳 賵 乇賵丕賳 夭賳 賵 卮賵賴乇蹖 賳賮亘 賲蹖夭賳賳丿貨 丌禺乇蹖賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳蹖賴丕禄 丕孬乇 芦噩蹖賲夭 噩賵蹖爻禄 丕爻鬲
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴鈥� 丕蹖 丿賵爻鬲鈥屫ж� 賲賵爻蹖賯蹖貙 丿乇 卮亘 芦讴乇蹖爻賲爻禄 賵 丿乇 蹖讴 賲賴賲丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲貨 丿乇 賲賴賲丕賳蹖貙 芦诏丕亘乇蹖賱禄 賲乇丿蹖 丿乇爻 禺賵丕賳丿賴貙 丌賲賵夭诏丕乇 賵 爻鬲賵賳 賳賵蹖爻貙 爻鬲賵賳 丕丿亘蹖 乇賵夭賳丕賲賴 賴丕爻鬲貨 賵 夭賳 禺賵卮鈥� 鬲蹖倬 丕賵 芦诏乇鬲丕禄貙 賳賯卮 賵蹖跇賴鈥� 丕蹖 丿丕乇丿貨 卮乇丨 賲賴賲丕賳蹖貙 丕夭 賵乇賵丿 賲賴賲丕賳鈥屬囏ж� 賵 賱亘丕爻賴丕 賵 亘乇賮 乇賵蹖 讴賱丕賴鈥屬囏� 賵 卮丕賳賴鈥� 賴丕 乇丕 鬲讴丕賳 丿丕丿賳貙 鬲丕 胤乇夭賻 趩蹖丿賴 卮丿賳 亘卮賯丕亘鈥屬囏ж� 賵 賳賵毓 睾匕丕賴丕 賵 賳賵卮丕亘賴鈥� 賴丕 賵 讴丕乇丿 賵 趩賳诏丕賱鈥屬囏ж� 賵 丕夭 乇賯氐鈥屬囏й� 丿賵 賳賮乇賴貙 鬲丕 趩賳丿 賳賮乇賴貙 诏賮鬲诏賵賴丕蹖 賲蹖丕賳 賲賴賲丕賳鈥屬囏ж� 賴賲賴 賵 賴賲賴貙 亘丕 賲賵卮讴丕賮蹖 賵 丕爻鬲丕丿丕賳賴貙 賵 亘爻蹖丕乇 賲丕賴乇丕賳賴 賳诏丕卮鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲貨 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳貙 丿乇 诏賮鬲诏賵賴丕蹖 賲賴賲丕賳丕賳 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 禺賵丕賳卮诏乇 乇丕貙 亘丕 卮賴乇 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳禄貙 賵 賮囟丕蹖 丌賳 乇賵夭賴丕 賵 亘丕 賴賳乇倬乇賵乇蹖貙 賵 賴賳乇丿賵爻鬲蹖 賲乇丿賲丕賳卮貙 賵 亘丕 芦禺蹖丕亘丕賳鈥屬囏回� 芦賲噩爻賲賴鈥� 賴丕禄貙 芦丿乇卮讴賴鈥� 賴丕禄 賵 诏乇賲丕蹖 乇卮诏鈥� 亘乇丕賳诏蹖夭 丕丨爻丕爻丕鬲 噩賵丕賳鈥屬囏ж� 丌卮賳丕 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 禺賵丕賳卮诏乇 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 讴賴 丿乇 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳禄 丌睾丕夭 爻丿賴 亘蹖爻鬲賲 賲蹖賱丕丿蹖 丕爻鬲貙 賵 賴賲乇丕賴 亘丕 噩賵丕賳丕賳 倬乇卮賵乇賽 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳蹖禄 丕夭 丌賵丕夭禺賵丕賳丕賳 亘夭乇诏 芦丕蹖鬲丕賱蹖丕蹖蹖禄 倬蹖卮賵丕夭 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘賴 丿乇爻鬲蹖 芦賲乇丿诏丕賳禄 賳丕賲蹖丿賴 卮丿賴貙 趩乇丕 讴賴 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕夭 乇賮鬲诏丕賳 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴貙 賵 丿賵爻鬲丕賳貙 賵 賴賳乇賲賳丿丕賳貙 賵 賲賵爻蹖賯蹖鈥屫з嗀з嗀� 賵 丌賵丕夭 禺賵丕賳丕賳 亘诏匕卮鬲賴鈥� 賴丕蹖 賳夭丿蹖讴貙 蹖丕丿蹖 賲蹖鈥屫促堌� 鬲丕 丕蹖賳讴賴 鬲賱賳诏乇蹖貙 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 噩賴鬲 賵蹖跇賴鈥� 丕蹖 賲蹖鈥屭┴簇з嗀�
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 27/10/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 27/10/1400賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
The Dead, is the final story in the 1914 collection Dubliners, by James Joyce. The other stories in the collection are shorter, "The Dead" is long enough to be described as a novella.
The story of a music-loving family on Christmas Eve and at a party. At the party, Gabriel is an educated man, teacher and columnist, the literary columnist of the newspapers. And his handsome woman, Greta, has a special role. The description of the party, from the arrival of the guests, and the shaking of the clothes and the snow on the hats and shoulders, to the arrangement of the plates, and the type of food and drink and the cutlery, and from the two-person to multi-person dances, the conversations between the guests. All and sundry, meticulously and masterfully, and very skillfully written.
The beauty of the story lies in the conversations of the guests, which introduce the reader to the city of Dublin, and the atmosphere of those days, and to the artistry, and art-friendliness of its people, and to the "streets," "sculptures," "chariots," and the raging warmth of emotions.
Young people get acquainted; The reader feels that Dublin is the beginning of the twentieth century, and welcomes the great "Italian" singers with the passionate youth of Dublin. The story is rightly called "the dead" because it tells of family members, friends, artists, musicians, and singers of the recent past, until a flip pulls the story in a special direction.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 乇賵夭 亘蹖爻鬲 賵 賴卮鬲賲 賲丕賴 跇賵卅賳 爻丕賱2005賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
毓賳賵丕賳: 賲乇丿诏丕賳貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩蹖賲夭 噩賵蹖爻貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 賲噩蹖丿 丕賲蹖賳 賲賵蹖丿貨 鬲賴乇丕賳貙 丕卮丕乇賴貙 爻丕賱1383貨 丿乇83氐貨 賵蹖乇丕爻鬲 丿賵賲 丿乇100氐貨 爻丕賱1395貨 卮丕亘讴9789645772435貨 賲賵囟賵毓: 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳 丕蹖乇賱賳丿 - 爻丿賴20賲
毓賳賵丕賳: 賲乇丿诏丕賳貨 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴: 噩蹖賲夭 噩賵蹖爻貨 賲鬲乇噩賲: 毓賱蹖乇囟丕 賲鬲蹖賳 賳蹖丕貨 賲卮賴丿貙 爻禺賳 诏爻鬲乇貙 爻丕賱1389貨 丿乇228氐貨
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 芦賲乇丿诏丕賳禄貙 卮乇丨 蹖讴 賲蹖賴賲丕賳蹖 丿乇 卮亘 芦讴乇蹖爻賲爻禄貙 丿乇 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳 丕蹖乇賱賳丿禄 丕爻鬲貙 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿乇賵賳 卮禺氐蹖鬲賴丕 乇丕 賲蹖讴丕賵賳丿貙 賮囟丕蹖 亘蹖乇賵賳 賲噩賱爻 乇丕 賵氐賮 賲蹖讴賳賳丿 賵 亘賴 丿乇賵賳 賵 乇賵丕賳 夭賳 賵 卮賵賴乇蹖 賳賮亘 賲蹖夭賳賳丿貨 丌禺乇蹖賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賴丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳蹖賴丕禄 丕孬乇 芦噩蹖賲夭 噩賵蹖爻禄 丕爻鬲
丿丕爻鬲丕賳 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴鈥� 丕蹖 丿賵爻鬲鈥屫ж� 賲賵爻蹖賯蹖貙 丿乇 卮亘 芦讴乇蹖爻賲爻禄 賵 丿乇 蹖讴 賲賴賲丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲貨 丿乇 賲賴賲丕賳蹖貙 芦诏丕亘乇蹖賱禄 賲乇丿蹖 丿乇爻 禺賵丕賳丿賴貙 丌賲賵夭诏丕乇 賵 爻鬲賵賳 賳賵蹖爻貙 爻鬲賵賳 丕丿亘蹖 乇賵夭賳丕賲賴 賴丕爻鬲貨 賵 夭賳 禺賵卮鈥� 鬲蹖倬 丕賵 芦诏乇鬲丕禄貙 賳賯卮 賵蹖跇賴鈥� 丕蹖 丿丕乇丿貨 卮乇丨 賲賴賲丕賳蹖貙 丕夭 賵乇賵丿 賲賴賲丕賳鈥屬囏ж� 賵 賱亘丕爻賴丕 賵 亘乇賮 乇賵蹖 讴賱丕賴鈥屬囏� 賵 卮丕賳賴鈥� 賴丕 乇丕 鬲讴丕賳 丿丕丿賳貙 鬲丕 胤乇夭賻 趩蹖丿賴 卮丿賳 亘卮賯丕亘鈥屬囏ж� 賵 賳賵毓 睾匕丕賴丕 賵 賳賵卮丕亘賴鈥� 賴丕 賵 讴丕乇丿 賵 趩賳诏丕賱鈥屬囏ж� 賵 丕夭 乇賯氐鈥屬囏й� 丿賵 賳賮乇賴貙 鬲丕 趩賳丿 賳賮乇賴貙 诏賮鬲诏賵賴丕蹖 賲蹖丕賳 賲賴賲丕賳鈥屬囏ж� 賴賲賴 賵 賴賲賴貙 亘丕 賲賵卮讴丕賮蹖 賵 丕爻鬲丕丿丕賳賴貙 賵 亘爻蹖丕乇 賲丕賴乇丕賳賴 賳诏丕卮鬲賴 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲貨 夭蹖亘丕蹖蹖 丿丕爻鬲丕賳貙 丿乇 诏賮鬲诏賵賴丕蹖 賲賴賲丕賳丕賳 丕爻鬲貙 讴賴 禺賵丕賳卮诏乇 乇丕貙 亘丕 卮賴乇 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳禄貙 賵 賮囟丕蹖 丌賳 乇賵夭賴丕 賵 亘丕 賴賳乇倬乇賵乇蹖貙 賵 賴賳乇丿賵爻鬲蹖 賲乇丿賲丕賳卮貙 賵 亘丕 芦禺蹖丕亘丕賳鈥屬囏回� 芦賲噩爻賲賴鈥� 賴丕禄貙 芦丿乇卮讴賴鈥� 賴丕禄 賵 诏乇賲丕蹖 乇卮诏鈥� 亘乇丕賳诏蹖夭 丕丨爻丕爻丕鬲 噩賵丕賳鈥屬囏ж� 丌卮賳丕 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 禺賵丕賳卮诏乇 丕丨爻丕爻 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 讴賴 丿乇 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳禄 丌睾丕夭 爻丿賴 亘蹖爻鬲賲 賲蹖賱丕丿蹖 丕爻鬲貙 賵 賴賲乇丕賴 亘丕 噩賵丕賳丕賳 倬乇卮賵乇賽 芦丿賵亘賱蹖賳蹖禄 丕夭 丌賵丕夭禺賵丕賳丕賳 亘夭乇诏 芦丕蹖鬲丕賱蹖丕蹖蹖禄 倬蹖卮賵丕夭 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘賴 丿乇爻鬲蹖 芦賲乇丿诏丕賳禄 賳丕賲蹖丿賴 卮丿賴貙 趩乇丕 讴賴 丿乇 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 丕夭 乇賮鬲诏丕賳 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴貙 賵 丿賵爻鬲丕賳貙 賵 賴賳乇賲賳丿丕賳貙 賵 賲賵爻蹖賯蹖鈥屫з嗀з嗀� 賵 丌賵丕夭 禺賵丕賳丕賳 亘诏匕卮鬲賴鈥� 賴丕蹖 賳夭丿蹖讴貙 蹖丕丿蹖 賲蹖鈥屫促堌� 鬲丕 丕蹖賳讴賴 鬲賱賳诏乇蹖貙 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 噩賴鬲 賵蹖跇賴鈥� 丕蹖 賲蹖鈥屭┴簇з嗀�
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 27/10/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 27/10/1400賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
May 19, 2022
"One by one, they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age."
James Joyce's The Dead is a deceptively brilliant story! While the dinner party where most of the action takes place isn't always riveting, everything is important. By the waning hours of the evening, you feel the full force of all the details from the party in Gretta Conroy's conversation with her husband, Gabriel. Gretta recounts the story of a former now dead boyfriend whose memory has been evoked by the party. In the space of a few minutes, Gabriel's world is turned upside down as he thinks about the dead who are now living as memories in all of us, and how we'll all pass into that territory.
James Joyce's The Dead is a deceptively brilliant story! While the dinner party where most of the action takes place isn't always riveting, everything is important. By the waning hours of the evening, you feel the full force of all the details from the party in Gretta Conroy's conversation with her husband, Gabriel. Gretta recounts the story of a former now dead boyfriend whose memory has been evoked by the party. In the space of a few minutes, Gabriel's world is turned upside down as he thinks about the dead who are now living as memories in all of us, and how we'll all pass into that territory.
March 2, 2023
MUSICA LONTANA
John Huston: The Dead, 1987.
C鈥檈ra grazia e mistero nel suo atteggiamento, come se fosse simbolo di qualcosa.
脠 la moglie di Gabriel in cima alle scale, ferma in penombra, che ascolta le ultime note di una canzone, cantata e suonata da due ospiti attardatisi nella sala della festa ormai rimasta deserta.
Il marito, la guarda dal basso, nell鈥檃trio, anche lui in zona d鈥檕mbra. Mentre tutti gli altri, ospiti e padrone di casa, sono sulla porta impegnati nei saluti o nel salire in carrozza.
Si domand貌 di che cosa potesse mai essere simbolo una donna in piedi sulle scale nell鈥檕mbra, in ascolto di una musica lontana. Se fosse stato un pittore l鈥檃vrebbe ritratta in quell鈥檃tteggiamento鈥� 鈥淢usica lontana鈥� avrebbe intitolato il quadro, se fosse stato un pittore.
La penombra, lo sguardo dal basso verso l鈥檃lto 鈥� prospettiva che echeggia quel continuo rapporto dentro-fuori - l鈥檌nterno caldo, avvolgente e familiare, l鈥檈sterno innevato, freddo e frizzante 鈥� che a sua volta direi simbolizza il rapporto vivi-morti - la grazia e il mistero, che sono parte dell鈥檈ssenza di questo racconto: ecco mi pare la sintesi perfetta di questo breve capolavoro, che rientra in quella splendida categoria che mi viene da definire letteratura della perfezione.
Siamo a un passo dal momento in cui avviandosi verso l鈥檃lbergo dove passeranno la notte, a piedi in cerca di una vettura, Gabriel s鈥檌nfiamma di desiderio per sua moglie Gretta: un鈥� eccitazione composta di passione e al contempo tenerezza, che lo spinge a pregustare i pochi momenti che lo separano da quando saranno soli.
Al punto che non solo 猫 indifferente alla mancanza di luce elettrica 鈥� un guasto nella linea 鈥� ma rifiuta la candela che il vecchio concierge vorrebbe lasciargli. Al buio, nella penombra disegnata dalla luce lunare che arriva dalla finestra, solo con sua moglie.
Se non che鈥�
Per chi non avesse ancora letto questo breve capolavoro, questa meraviglia tra le meraviglie (per me si tratta della terza o quarta volta), non voglio anticipare il finale raggelante che regala un鈥檈mozione intensa. E una vertigine da altezza.
Nell鈥檜ltima lunga scena la luce 猫 solo quella lunare che entra dalla finestra.
Gabriel 猫 palesemente lo stesso Joyce con la sua ansia di 鈥渁ndare a ovest鈥�, la sua difficolt脿 a respirare nell鈥檃sfittica e provinciale Irlanda. Ogni pagina 猫 piena di richiami, rimandi, simboli. La delizia inizia da subito, dagli arrivi alla festa nella casa delle sue anziane zie. E prosegue attraverso chiacchiere, danze, cibi e bevande.
Il desiderio, tanto pi霉 quando erotico, 猫 segno di vitalit脿, di giovinezza: ci vuole poco per貌 a impattare col mondo della delusione, della frustrazione, della mediocrit脿. Col mondo dei morti. I morti che con-vivono coi vivi.
E poi quel film cos矛 bello da un regista e da sua figlia protagonista, entrambi artisti sanguigni dai quali era difficile aspettarsi una vetta di simile grazia, misura e mistero.
Magnifica l鈥檌mmagine scelta per il manifesto del film.
John Huston: The Dead, 1987.
C鈥檈ra grazia e mistero nel suo atteggiamento, come se fosse simbolo di qualcosa.
脠 la moglie di Gabriel in cima alle scale, ferma in penombra, che ascolta le ultime note di una canzone, cantata e suonata da due ospiti attardatisi nella sala della festa ormai rimasta deserta.
Il marito, la guarda dal basso, nell鈥檃trio, anche lui in zona d鈥檕mbra. Mentre tutti gli altri, ospiti e padrone di casa, sono sulla porta impegnati nei saluti o nel salire in carrozza.
Si domand貌 di che cosa potesse mai essere simbolo una donna in piedi sulle scale nell鈥檕mbra, in ascolto di una musica lontana. Se fosse stato un pittore l鈥檃vrebbe ritratta in quell鈥檃tteggiamento鈥� 鈥淢usica lontana鈥� avrebbe intitolato il quadro, se fosse stato un pittore.
La penombra, lo sguardo dal basso verso l鈥檃lto 鈥� prospettiva che echeggia quel continuo rapporto dentro-fuori - l鈥檌nterno caldo, avvolgente e familiare, l鈥檈sterno innevato, freddo e frizzante 鈥� che a sua volta direi simbolizza il rapporto vivi-morti - la grazia e il mistero, che sono parte dell鈥檈ssenza di questo racconto: ecco mi pare la sintesi perfetta di questo breve capolavoro, che rientra in quella splendida categoria che mi viene da definire letteratura della perfezione.
Siamo a un passo dal momento in cui avviandosi verso l鈥檃lbergo dove passeranno la notte, a piedi in cerca di una vettura, Gabriel s鈥檌nfiamma di desiderio per sua moglie Gretta: un鈥� eccitazione composta di passione e al contempo tenerezza, che lo spinge a pregustare i pochi momenti che lo separano da quando saranno soli.
Al punto che non solo 猫 indifferente alla mancanza di luce elettrica 鈥� un guasto nella linea 鈥� ma rifiuta la candela che il vecchio concierge vorrebbe lasciargli. Al buio, nella penombra disegnata dalla luce lunare che arriva dalla finestra, solo con sua moglie.
Se non che鈥�
Per chi non avesse ancora letto questo breve capolavoro, questa meraviglia tra le meraviglie (per me si tratta della terza o quarta volta), non voglio anticipare il finale raggelante che regala un鈥檈mozione intensa. E una vertigine da altezza.
Nell鈥檜ltima lunga scena la luce 猫 solo quella lunare che entra dalla finestra.
Gabriel 猫 palesemente lo stesso Joyce con la sua ansia di 鈥渁ndare a ovest鈥�, la sua difficolt脿 a respirare nell鈥檃sfittica e provinciale Irlanda. Ogni pagina 猫 piena di richiami, rimandi, simboli. La delizia inizia da subito, dagli arrivi alla festa nella casa delle sue anziane zie. E prosegue attraverso chiacchiere, danze, cibi e bevande.
Il desiderio, tanto pi霉 quando erotico, 猫 segno di vitalit脿, di giovinezza: ci vuole poco per貌 a impattare col mondo della delusione, della frustrazione, della mediocrit脿. Col mondo dei morti. I morti che con-vivono coi vivi.
E poi quel film cos矛 bello da un regista e da sua figlia protagonista, entrambi artisti sanguigni dai quali era difficile aspettarsi una vetta di simile grazia, misura e mistero.
Magnifica l鈥檌mmagine scelta per il manifesto del film.
December 13, 2017
As with life, there are the small experiences so basic and common to most people that evokes a primal force from deep within. One of them of course is the family get-together, especially at Christmas time, a time where affecting memories are brought to the surface, of loved ones no longer here. Through all the chit-chat, artifices, tensions, jokes, warmth, laughter, and faithful hugs, however brief these moments are, there is a poignant notion stirred by the knowledge that we all come from somebody, and most of the somebodies we come from happen to be dead.
James Joyce has penned a beautifully crafted narrative which could be viewed as either a long short-story or a short Novella, dealing with themes of love and loss as well as raising questions about the nature of the Irish identity, something that is strongly pointed out here. Set during the festive period, it's the Morkans annual Christmas dinner party at their upstairs rooms in Dublin, an event Aunt Julia and Aunt Kate, and their niece Mary Jane, have hosted in sumptuous style for 30 years. Their regular guests for this sumptuous gathering include nephew Gabriel Conroy and his wife Gretta; Mr. Browne, a dear friend even if he is Protestant; the dependably inebriated Freddy Malins and his long-suffering mother, Mrs. Malins; and the more recent arrivals, the testy nationalist Miss Molly Ivors and the opera singer Bartell D鈥橝rcy. All are here, in high spirits for what should be another splendid evening in each others company.
It may be 1904, but they do no different to what families everywhere have done since, they gather around feeling merry, sing and dance, tell jokes and stories. They reminisce, demur shyly from compliments, and share fluttering covert anxieties and brief bitter memories. Gabriel, who I guess could be seen as the main character, will rise at the end of the dinner table to make his annual florid speech. The main difference this year is that Julia鈥檚 weak spells are more pronounced, and Gretta is held in unusual reveries. Earlier, Miss Ivors rattles Gabriel on his Irish identity, as he publishes weekly a literary column in a newspaper with unionist sympathies. He becomes disaffected, and retreats into himself, and now is bothered by his impending speech. By the end of the evening, as guests filter out, and goodbyes are said, Gretta appears lost in thought with a deep sense of melancholy, whilst Gabriel is looking forward to some intimate time spent with his wife at a hotel. Gretta's lack of interest though during their stay is down a piece of music heard during the party, being reminded of a young man from her youth. And this is where in her mind, the dead come back to life.
Joyce鈥檚 crystalline prose, along with some wonderfully observed dialogue had me in awe, it was all the little subtleties that made the biggest differences making for a scintillating read which confronted the fragility of the human spirit, and our relationship with the souls and memories of the Dead. As short-stories go, it's damn near perfection.
James Joyce has penned a beautifully crafted narrative which could be viewed as either a long short-story or a short Novella, dealing with themes of love and loss as well as raising questions about the nature of the Irish identity, something that is strongly pointed out here. Set during the festive period, it's the Morkans annual Christmas dinner party at their upstairs rooms in Dublin, an event Aunt Julia and Aunt Kate, and their niece Mary Jane, have hosted in sumptuous style for 30 years. Their regular guests for this sumptuous gathering include nephew Gabriel Conroy and his wife Gretta; Mr. Browne, a dear friend even if he is Protestant; the dependably inebriated Freddy Malins and his long-suffering mother, Mrs. Malins; and the more recent arrivals, the testy nationalist Miss Molly Ivors and the opera singer Bartell D鈥橝rcy. All are here, in high spirits for what should be another splendid evening in each others company.
It may be 1904, but they do no different to what families everywhere have done since, they gather around feeling merry, sing and dance, tell jokes and stories. They reminisce, demur shyly from compliments, and share fluttering covert anxieties and brief bitter memories. Gabriel, who I guess could be seen as the main character, will rise at the end of the dinner table to make his annual florid speech. The main difference this year is that Julia鈥檚 weak spells are more pronounced, and Gretta is held in unusual reveries. Earlier, Miss Ivors rattles Gabriel on his Irish identity, as he publishes weekly a literary column in a newspaper with unionist sympathies. He becomes disaffected, and retreats into himself, and now is bothered by his impending speech. By the end of the evening, as guests filter out, and goodbyes are said, Gretta appears lost in thought with a deep sense of melancholy, whilst Gabriel is looking forward to some intimate time spent with his wife at a hotel. Gretta's lack of interest though during their stay is down a piece of music heard during the party, being reminded of a young man from her youth. And this is where in her mind, the dead come back to life.
Joyce鈥檚 crystalline prose, along with some wonderfully observed dialogue had me in awe, it was all the little subtleties that made the biggest differences making for a scintillating read which confronted the fragility of the human spirit, and our relationship with the souls and memories of the Dead. As short-stories go, it's damn near perfection.
October 9, 2022
It鈥檚 snowy in Dublin as guests arrive for the Misses Morkan鈥檚 annual Christmas dinner dance. There鈥檚 bustle, busyness, confusion of names and relationships, comings and goings, greetings and gossip. It felt better suited to the stage (and I later found out it has been adapted for stage and screen). The hosts are musical and generous, but middle class and not affluent.
And so it continued for about 20 of about 30 pages, adding a little context for most of the characters. I found it rather dull (even though the central character, Gabriel, reviews books 馃槈). You need to know about Irish political and church history of the period, c1914, to appreciate it, as indicated by the number of footnotes in the anthology I read it in. Gabriel, like all but one of the people there, is a Catholic. But he likes travelling in Europe, rather than Ireland. He worries about the younger, 鈥渉ypereducated鈥�, generation full of new ideas in a sceptical and 鈥渢hought-tormented age鈥�. He fears they won鈥檛 uphold 鈥�the tradition of genuine warm-hearted courteous Irish hospitality鈥�. But he鈥檚 offended to be called a .
Image: Gaelic League poster from 1913 (the year before this was published) contrasting a proud, independent 脡ire with a craven, dependent West Britain. ()
Transfiguration
Finally, the story elegantly and poignantly rises to new realms.
As they鈥檙e leaving his aunts鈥� party, Gabriel gazes up the stairs and sees his wife, Gretta, captivated by the sound of distant song.
鈥�She was standing right under the dusty fanlight and the flame of the gas lit up the rich bronze of her hair鈥� At last she turned towards them and Gabriel saw that there was colour on her cheeks and that her eyes were shining. A sudden tide of joy went leaping out of his heart.鈥�
His passion rekindled, along with happy memories of their early courting (his family disapproved), they go to their hotel.
鈥�He longed to recall to her those moments, to make her forget the years of their dull existence together and remember only their moments of ecstasy. For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul or hers.鈥�
Image: Gabriel watches Gretta (Anjelica Huston) transfixed by song in a scene from John Huston's 1987 film of The Dead ()
But the memories that whetted her eyes were not the ones Gabriel assumed. He wrestles with many feelings and ultimately confronts mortality: his aunts', his wife鈥檚, and his own:
鈥�One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age鈥�
His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.鈥�
I鈥檓 glad I persisted with this story. If I hadn鈥檛 loved another piece from Dubliners immediately before, I might not have reached the exquisite ending.
Quotes
鈥� 鈥淗e waited outside the drawing-room door until the waltz should finish, listening to the skirts that swept against it and to the shuffling of feet.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淗er hands racing along the keyboard or lifted from it at the pauses like those of a priestess in momentary imprecation.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淗e loved to feel the covers and turn over the pages of newly printed books.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淭he morning was still dark. A dull yellow light brooded over the houses and the river; and the sky seemed to be descending. It was slushy underfoot; and only streaks and patches of snow lay on the roofs, on the parapets of the quay and on the area railings. The lamps were still burning redly in the murky air and, across the river, the palace of the Four Courts stood out menacingly against the heavy sky.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淢oments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory. A heliotrope envelope was lying beside his breakfast-cup and he was caressing it with his hand. Birds were twittering in the ivy and the sunny web of the curtain was shimmering along the floor: he could not eat for happiness. They were standing on the crowded platform and he was placing a ticket inside the warm palm of her glove.鈥�
See also
鈥� The vast and daunting reputation of means I hadn鈥檛 read anything by Joyce until now. This is much the longest of fifteen short stories in , and immediately before this, I read Araby, which is utterly brilliant, and which I reviewed HERE.
鈥� The Irish folk song, The Lass of Aughrim, aka features in the story. You can hear it , in a scene from the film (see imdb ).
Short story club
I read this as one of the stories in The Art of the Short Story, by Dana Gioia, from which I'm aiming to read one story a week with The Short Story Club, starting 2 May 2022.
You can read this story .
You can join the group here.
And so it continued for about 20 of about 30 pages, adding a little context for most of the characters. I found it rather dull (even though the central character, Gabriel, reviews books 馃槈). You need to know about Irish political and church history of the period, c1914, to appreciate it, as indicated by the number of footnotes in the anthology I read it in. Gabriel, like all but one of the people there, is a Catholic. But he likes travelling in Europe, rather than Ireland. He worries about the younger, 鈥渉ypereducated鈥�, generation full of new ideas in a sceptical and 鈥渢hought-tormented age鈥�. He fears they won鈥檛 uphold 鈥�the tradition of genuine warm-hearted courteous Irish hospitality鈥�. But he鈥檚 offended to be called a .
Image: Gaelic League poster from 1913 (the year before this was published) contrasting a proud, independent 脡ire with a craven, dependent West Britain. ()
Transfiguration
Finally, the story elegantly and poignantly rises to new realms.
As they鈥檙e leaving his aunts鈥� party, Gabriel gazes up the stairs and sees his wife, Gretta, captivated by the sound of distant song.
鈥�She was standing right under the dusty fanlight and the flame of the gas lit up the rich bronze of her hair鈥� At last she turned towards them and Gabriel saw that there was colour on her cheeks and that her eyes were shining. A sudden tide of joy went leaping out of his heart.鈥�
His passion rekindled, along with happy memories of their early courting (his family disapproved), they go to their hotel.
鈥�He longed to recall to her those moments, to make her forget the years of their dull existence together and remember only their moments of ecstasy. For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul or hers.鈥�
Image: Gabriel watches Gretta (Anjelica Huston) transfixed by song in a scene from John Huston's 1987 film of The Dead ()
But the memories that whetted her eyes were not the ones Gabriel assumed. He wrestles with many feelings and ultimately confronts mortality: his aunts', his wife鈥檚, and his own:
鈥�One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age鈥�
His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.鈥�
I鈥檓 glad I persisted with this story. If I hadn鈥檛 loved another piece from Dubliners immediately before, I might not have reached the exquisite ending.
Quotes
鈥� 鈥淗e waited outside the drawing-room door until the waltz should finish, listening to the skirts that swept against it and to the shuffling of feet.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淗er hands racing along the keyboard or lifted from it at the pauses like those of a priestess in momentary imprecation.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淗e loved to feel the covers and turn over the pages of newly printed books.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淭he morning was still dark. A dull yellow light brooded over the houses and the river; and the sky seemed to be descending. It was slushy underfoot; and only streaks and patches of snow lay on the roofs, on the parapets of the quay and on the area railings. The lamps were still burning redly in the murky air and, across the river, the palace of the Four Courts stood out menacingly against the heavy sky.鈥�
鈥� 鈥淢oments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory. A heliotrope envelope was lying beside his breakfast-cup and he was caressing it with his hand. Birds were twittering in the ivy and the sunny web of the curtain was shimmering along the floor: he could not eat for happiness. They were standing on the crowded platform and he was placing a ticket inside the warm palm of her glove.鈥�
See also
鈥� The vast and daunting reputation of means I hadn鈥檛 read anything by Joyce until now. This is much the longest of fifteen short stories in , and immediately before this, I read Araby, which is utterly brilliant, and which I reviewed HERE.
鈥� The Irish folk song, The Lass of Aughrim, aka features in the story. You can hear it , in a scene from the film (see imdb ).
Short story club
I read this as one of the stories in The Art of the Short Story, by Dana Gioia, from which I'm aiming to read one story a week with The Short Story Club, starting 2 May 2022.
You can read this story .
You can join the group here.
December 19, 2018
snow was general all over Ireland
I am in DFW airport on a layover eating an execrable meal from a forgettable restaurant, punch drunk from too much air travel over the past 24 hours and emotionally frayed at having dropped my daughter off with her mother after spending a fabulous week with her in San Francisco. I'm chewing tasteless food while looking into the restaurant with the glassy-eyed, 1000 yard stare of the weary traveler.
A family of four takes the table directly in my line of sight; the mother loops the arm of a book bag around the back of her chair. The canvas tote is loaded with short sentences from some of Western literature's most famous books. I read them in order, recognizing "The Scarlet Letter", "Wuthering Heights", "A Tale of Two Cities", etc. - I feel smug pride whilst masticating mashed potatoes. But there is one quote that is unrecognizable: "snow was general all over Ireland". I guess it is Joyce, or perhaps Beckett; I type the sentence into Google and find that it is a Joyce novella, not from his Big Two - a story from , a collection I have read twice and liked neither time. I've been reading Proust for hours; I decide to give Marcel a break and try this Joyce story once more. Yes, the third time is the charm.
I don't want to spoil anything about the story by giving a plot synopsis (it is a fast read - 30 minutes, tops - and is available for free online); the resonance of the story, where Joyce finally spoke to me, occurs in the last 500 words. With a light touch, and a wonderful narrative twist, Joyce reminds the reader that we all live under the shadow of the dead. From the memory and legacy of our departed family to the meal we just ate, the ubiquity of death is what gives weight to life. Joyce uses a death in the story to bring clarity to one of the story's characters - and as readers we get to witness the unfurling of the blossom of knowledge, perhaps even some measure of wisdom, that occurs from grappling with The Dead.
Snow was general all over Ireland. Yes, snow, and by extension winter, are the symbols here for death - and their state of being generally all over is a reminder that we don't escape death, and that it is a necessity for life to exist. And so as I finished this novella at 36,000 feet somewhere over New Mexico, I went back and re-read the last pages a couple of times and realized that it isn't just that snow was generally all over Ireland, snow was General all over Ireland. Death marshals its forces, it leads in battle, it conquers. We may hate it but we all must come to terms with it sooner or later. Much as Gabriel was forced to do in this brilliant work.
I am in DFW airport on a layover eating an execrable meal from a forgettable restaurant, punch drunk from too much air travel over the past 24 hours and emotionally frayed at having dropped my daughter off with her mother after spending a fabulous week with her in San Francisco. I'm chewing tasteless food while looking into the restaurant with the glassy-eyed, 1000 yard stare of the weary traveler.
A family of four takes the table directly in my line of sight; the mother loops the arm of a book bag around the back of her chair. The canvas tote is loaded with short sentences from some of Western literature's most famous books. I read them in order, recognizing "The Scarlet Letter", "Wuthering Heights", "A Tale of Two Cities", etc. - I feel smug pride whilst masticating mashed potatoes. But there is one quote that is unrecognizable: "snow was general all over Ireland". I guess it is Joyce, or perhaps Beckett; I type the sentence into Google and find that it is a Joyce novella, not from his Big Two - a story from , a collection I have read twice and liked neither time. I've been reading Proust for hours; I decide to give Marcel a break and try this Joyce story once more. Yes, the third time is the charm.
I don't want to spoil anything about the story by giving a plot synopsis (it is a fast read - 30 minutes, tops - and is available for free online); the resonance of the story, where Joyce finally spoke to me, occurs in the last 500 words. With a light touch, and a wonderful narrative twist, Joyce reminds the reader that we all live under the shadow of the dead. From the memory and legacy of our departed family to the meal we just ate, the ubiquity of death is what gives weight to life. Joyce uses a death in the story to bring clarity to one of the story's characters - and as readers we get to witness the unfurling of the blossom of knowledge, perhaps even some measure of wisdom, that occurs from grappling with The Dead.
Snow was general all over Ireland. Yes, snow, and by extension winter, are the symbols here for death - and their state of being generally all over is a reminder that we don't escape death, and that it is a necessity for life to exist. And so as I finished this novella at 36,000 feet somewhere over New Mexico, I went back and re-read the last pages a couple of times and realized that it isn't just that snow was generally all over Ireland, snow was General all over Ireland. Death marshals its forces, it leads in battle, it conquers. We may hate it but we all must come to terms with it sooner or later. Much as Gabriel was forced to do in this brilliant work.
August 16, 2018
"Su alma se derrumbaba lentamente mientras escuchaba caer la suave nieve a trav茅s del universo y caer leve como el descenso de su 煤ltimo ocaso, sobre todos los vivos y los muertos."
Demasiado corto para ser una novela y demasiado largo para ser un cuento, 鈥淭he Dead鈥� ocupa el decimoquinto y 煤ltimo lugar en el libro de James Joyce 鈥淒ublineses鈥� y es el de mayor extensi贸n, belleza narrativa, inspiraci贸n po茅tica y calidad literaria de ese gran libro.
Escribo su t铆tulo en ingl茅s, porque al encontrarnos con el art铆culo 鈥淭he鈥�, el autor no establece claramente el significado, dado que si lo traducimos al castellano, podr铆amos titularlo "Los Muertos鈥�, 鈥淓l Muerto鈥� o 鈥淟o Muerto鈥�. Tal vez todas las acepciones sean admitidas, aunque a mi entender el t铆tulo 鈥淓l Muerto鈥� podr铆a ajustarse m谩s a la naturaleza de la historia.
鈥淭he Dead鈥� se desdobla a su vez en dos partes: la m谩s extensa del relato ocupa la comida que se desarrolla en el interior de una t铆pica casa dublinesa en donde se cocina un pavo y en el que todos los comensales se relacionan entre s铆 a partir de los di谩logos y pensamientos inteligentemente dispuestos por Joyce para que la trama de la historia se desarrolle normalmente (algo que despu茅s Virginia Woolf continuar铆a con tanta brillantez en sus novelas).
Posteriormente a esta comida, los invitados se van despidiendo e ingresamos a la segunda parte, momento en el que Gabriel Conroy y su esposa Gretta ingresan a la habitaci贸n del hotel y en ese 铆ntimo ambiente c谩lido, al resguardo la intensa nieve que abarca todo el territorio irland茅s, surge la rememoraci贸n de Gretta sobre un joven amante de sus a帽os juveniles llamado Michael Furey.
Este contrapunto entre Gretta y Gabriel realza con excelencia la perfecci贸n del cuento y funciona como broche de oro para un libro tan hermoso como lo es Dublineses.
Es definitivamente el mejor relato corto de James Joyce y tanto este relato como el libro forma parte de mis lecturas preferidas. Siempre intento releer a Joyce, de hecho, "Dublineses" y "The Dead" son la parte m谩s 鈥渆ntendible鈥� de su obra mientras preparo todos mis sentidos para afrontar ese desaf铆o que se llama 鈥淔innegan鈥檚 Wake鈥�.
Demasiado corto para ser una novela y demasiado largo para ser un cuento, 鈥淭he Dead鈥� ocupa el decimoquinto y 煤ltimo lugar en el libro de James Joyce 鈥淒ublineses鈥� y es el de mayor extensi贸n, belleza narrativa, inspiraci贸n po茅tica y calidad literaria de ese gran libro.
Escribo su t铆tulo en ingl茅s, porque al encontrarnos con el art铆culo 鈥淭he鈥�, el autor no establece claramente el significado, dado que si lo traducimos al castellano, podr铆amos titularlo "Los Muertos鈥�, 鈥淓l Muerto鈥� o 鈥淟o Muerto鈥�. Tal vez todas las acepciones sean admitidas, aunque a mi entender el t铆tulo 鈥淓l Muerto鈥� podr铆a ajustarse m谩s a la naturaleza de la historia.
鈥淭he Dead鈥� se desdobla a su vez en dos partes: la m谩s extensa del relato ocupa la comida que se desarrolla en el interior de una t铆pica casa dublinesa en donde se cocina un pavo y en el que todos los comensales se relacionan entre s铆 a partir de los di谩logos y pensamientos inteligentemente dispuestos por Joyce para que la trama de la historia se desarrolle normalmente (algo que despu茅s Virginia Woolf continuar铆a con tanta brillantez en sus novelas).
Posteriormente a esta comida, los invitados se van despidiendo e ingresamos a la segunda parte, momento en el que Gabriel Conroy y su esposa Gretta ingresan a la habitaci贸n del hotel y en ese 铆ntimo ambiente c谩lido, al resguardo la intensa nieve que abarca todo el territorio irland茅s, surge la rememoraci贸n de Gretta sobre un joven amante de sus a帽os juveniles llamado Michael Furey.
Este contrapunto entre Gretta y Gabriel realza con excelencia la perfecci贸n del cuento y funciona como broche de oro para un libro tan hermoso como lo es Dublineses.
Es definitivamente el mejor relato corto de James Joyce y tanto este relato como el libro forma parte de mis lecturas preferidas. Siempre intento releer a Joyce, de hecho, "Dublineses" y "The Dead" son la parte m谩s 鈥渆ntendible鈥� de su obra mientras preparo todos mis sentidos para afrontar ese desaf铆o que se llama 鈥淔innegan鈥檚 Wake鈥�.
March 27, 2020
My first James Joyce....Oh my.
It's Christmas in Dublin. The snow is falling. The guests have finally all arrived. There is wine, dancing and gossipy conversation. A huge meal is presented, followed by a speech. And then, it's time to go, but.......
Someone is singing, you can barely hear him. He sees a woman, his wife, in shadows at the top of the steps listening. He is surprised by her stillness, the mystery of her attitude.
The husband recalls memories of their early love, their honeymoon, longing to rekindle the flame of long ago.
Back at the hotel room, she kisses him lightly. He wonders if she feels his passion for her. He holds her head between his hands and asks softly: "Gretta dear, what are you thinking about?" And she tells him......
From editors notes: "A modern parable of the rivalry between the living and the dead."
March 26 - Update:
Well done movie! The setting and dress so atmospheric of a snowy 1904 Dublin, and wonderfully executed heartfelt end.
April 13, 2024
賵氐賮 亘毓囟 丕賱賳賯丕丿 賴匕賴 丕賱賯氐丞 亘廿賳賴丕 兀賮囟賱 賯氐丞 賰鬲亘鬲 亘丕賱廿賳噩賱賷夭賷丞 毓賱賷 丕賱廿胤賱丕賯..
亘噩丿 賱丕 鬲毓賱賷賯!
亘噩丿 賱丕 鬲毓賱賷賯!
December 14, 2020
Written by James Joyce in 1907 (published in 1914 as part of his collection), "The Dead" is a novella about a Christmas early January "Feast of the Epiphany" holiday party in Dublin, Ireland, focusing on the subtler interpersonal communications and relationships between the relatives and others at the party, especially between teacher Gabriel Conroy and his wife Gretta.
It's a melancholy but insightful novella about our disappointments in life and love and how we often don't really see other people or understand their feelings. Gabriel views himself as better than most other people around him but he's actually stuck in a rut, personally, romantically (in his marriage), and even in his political views (as are, arguably, most of the party guests). There may be a hopeful note to the ending, but not even the professional critics agree on that, so read it and decide for yourself. :)
I didn't much care for it when I read it in college as an English major, but now that I'm older and wiser (and took more time to look at the online critical analysis) it appealed to me more. Sparknotes and Cliffnotes websites were both insightful, but I felt like I really hit the jackpot with this annotated version of the story and its very detailed notes, especially about the very last paragraph of the story: Here's a link to the story itself, on the website with the linked annotations:
I would rate this 3 1/2 stars based on my prior read, but 5 stars on reread. Now I want to read it again. :) Read it when you're in the mood for something thoughtful and deep.
December 2020 buddy read with the Retro Reads group.
It's a melancholy but insightful novella about our disappointments in life and love and how we often don't really see other people or understand their feelings. Gabriel views himself as better than most other people around him but he's actually stuck in a rut, personally, romantically (in his marriage), and even in his political views (as are, arguably, most of the party guests). There may be a hopeful note to the ending, but not even the professional critics agree on that, so read it and decide for yourself. :)
I didn't much care for it when I read it in college as an English major, but now that I'm older and wiser (and took more time to look at the online critical analysis) it appealed to me more. Sparknotes and Cliffnotes websites were both insightful, but I felt like I really hit the jackpot with this annotated version of the story and its very detailed notes, especially about the very last paragraph of the story: Here's a link to the story itself, on the website with the linked annotations:
I would rate this 3 1/2 stars based on my prior read, but 5 stars on reread. Now I want to read it again. :) Read it when you're in the mood for something thoughtful and deep.
December 2020 buddy read with the Retro Reads group.
September 17, 2022
4/5
Esta obra es el 煤ltimo de los relatos que componen la colecci贸n de 15 relatos cortos "Dublineses", publicado en 1914, del que "Los muertos" es el m谩s extenso.
Como he le铆do reiteradas veces en algunas rese帽as, incluyendo algunas de GR, tal vez resulte demasiado largo para ser un relato y demasiado corto para ser una novela. En concreto, la edici贸n que yo he le铆do es la traducida por Mar铆a Isabel Butler de Foley, de la colecci贸n Alianza Cien. Sin embargo, me ha gustado el ambiente lleno de solemnidad que propone Joyce de la cena tradicional irlandesa y las conversaciones que all铆 se generan, con descripciones detallistas de la comida y los detalles. Por ejemplo, hablando del vals que se desarrolla en un momento dado, Gabriel, que no se decide sobre las citas literarias que incluir en su inminente discurso, nos dice:
"La forma descort茅s en que los hombres hac铆an ruido con los tacones de sus zapatos y arrastraban las suelas por el entarimado le hac铆a pensar una vez m谩s que ten铆an un nivel de cultura diferente"
La cena transcurre durante las navidades y corresponde a una cita anual en la casa de la familia Morkan, integrada por dos t铆as de avanzada edad y su sobrina, y se nos presenta como t铆pica de la sociedad dublinesa de finales del siglo XIX, que constituye el armaz贸n de la trama. Sin embargo, en mi opini贸n, lo m谩s rese帽able ocurre cuando la trama se centra en la pareja formada por Gabriel y Gretta, una vez que abandonan la cena y marchan a su hotel, donde aparecer谩 de forma descarnada el influjo de los muertos sobre la vida actual, en forma de un enamorado de ella que falleci贸 en su juventud, lo que lleva a Gabriel a pensar:
"Uno por uno todos se iban convirtiendo en sombras. Era mejor irse a ese otro mundo en plena gloria de una pasi贸n, que desvanecerse y marchitarse con los a帽os"
Finalmente, la reflexi贸n toma un car谩cter m谩s general abarcando a las personas de la fiesta, algunas ya de avanzada edad, y al mundo en general:
"Su alma se fue desvaneciendo poco a poco mientras o铆a el ruido de la nieve cayendo levemente sobre el universo y cayendo levemente tambi茅n, como el descenso de su final postrero, sobre los vivos y los muertos"
Lo que nos puede llevar a plantearnos numerosas conjeturas sobre la obra, que naturalmente dejo al lector.
Esta obra es el 煤ltimo de los relatos que componen la colecci贸n de 15 relatos cortos "Dublineses", publicado en 1914, del que "Los muertos" es el m谩s extenso.
Como he le铆do reiteradas veces en algunas rese帽as, incluyendo algunas de GR, tal vez resulte demasiado largo para ser un relato y demasiado corto para ser una novela. En concreto, la edici贸n que yo he le铆do es la traducida por Mar铆a Isabel Butler de Foley, de la colecci贸n Alianza Cien. Sin embargo, me ha gustado el ambiente lleno de solemnidad que propone Joyce de la cena tradicional irlandesa y las conversaciones que all铆 se generan, con descripciones detallistas de la comida y los detalles. Por ejemplo, hablando del vals que se desarrolla en un momento dado, Gabriel, que no se decide sobre las citas literarias que incluir en su inminente discurso, nos dice:
"La forma descort茅s en que los hombres hac铆an ruido con los tacones de sus zapatos y arrastraban las suelas por el entarimado le hac铆a pensar una vez m谩s que ten铆an un nivel de cultura diferente"
La cena transcurre durante las navidades y corresponde a una cita anual en la casa de la familia Morkan, integrada por dos t铆as de avanzada edad y su sobrina, y se nos presenta como t铆pica de la sociedad dublinesa de finales del siglo XIX, que constituye el armaz贸n de la trama. Sin embargo, en mi opini贸n, lo m谩s rese帽able ocurre cuando la trama se centra en la pareja formada por Gabriel y Gretta, una vez que abandonan la cena y marchan a su hotel, donde aparecer谩 de forma descarnada el influjo de los muertos sobre la vida actual, en forma de un enamorado de ella que falleci贸 en su juventud, lo que lleva a Gabriel a pensar:
"Uno por uno todos se iban convirtiendo en sombras. Era mejor irse a ese otro mundo en plena gloria de una pasi贸n, que desvanecerse y marchitarse con los a帽os"
Finalmente, la reflexi贸n toma un car谩cter m谩s general abarcando a las personas de la fiesta, algunas ya de avanzada edad, y al mundo en general:
"Su alma se fue desvaneciendo poco a poco mientras o铆a el ruido de la nieve cayendo levemente sobre el universo y cayendo levemente tambi茅n, como el descenso de su final postrero, sobre los vivos y los muertos"
Lo que nos puede llevar a plantearnos numerosas conjeturas sobre la obra, que naturalmente dejo al lector.
October 27, 2017
Drinking too much can turn you into an emotional hot mess.
Being in love can do that to you too.
Being in love and drinking...
Well you would probably rather wish you were dead.
Being in love can do that to you too.
Being in love and drinking...
Well you would probably rather wish you were dead.
August 27, 2016
The Dead is considered by many to be Joyce's best short story. It is included in the short story collection, The Dubliners. It is the last in the collection and long, almost novella length. It's very different from Ulysses, very melancholic and introspective in nature.
November 22, 2023
Joyce's prose is absolutely lovely. I mean, just look at this writing:
鈥淗is soul swooned softly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.鈥�
I can't deny that this guy was a master of the English language. With that said, however, this story was mostly just dull. It picked up some speed in the last few minutes, but the dinner party bored me to tears, as I'm sure it would have anyone who actually attended the thing.
But, ooh, that prose. It's worth reading just for that reason alone, and the audiobook I listened to (the one with Bart Wolffe as narrator) made it all the more enchanting. His voice is exquisite.
Overall rating: Two stars on the entertainment scale and five stars for the beautiful prose, for an average of 3.5 stars (rounded up). It ain't exciting but it sure is pretty.
鈥淗is soul swooned softly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.鈥�
I can't deny that this guy was a master of the English language. With that said, however, this story was mostly just dull. It picked up some speed in the last few minutes, but the dinner party bored me to tears, as I'm sure it would have anyone who actually attended the thing.
But, ooh, that prose. It's worth reading just for that reason alone, and the audiobook I listened to (the one with Bart Wolffe as narrator) made it all the more enchanting. His voice is exquisite.
Overall rating: Two stars on the entertainment scale and five stars for the beautiful prose, for an average of 3.5 stars (rounded up). It ain't exciting but it sure is pretty.
Read
May 6, 2017HOW TO HAVE A LIT AF HOUSE PARTY
鈥� make sure at least 1 of your guests arrives sloshed
鈥� get someone to play the piano really badly
鈥� serve goose
鈥� sing a sad song that reminds one of your guests about how the love of her life tragically died
鈥� get someone to make a speech with at least two (2) references to mythology. + repetition
鈥� bitch about the Pope
鈥� discuss your favourite underrated choir singers
鈥� do an imitation of a horse ? for some reason ?
鈥� question to holiday motives of your guest
鈥� loudly announce you actually hate your country of origin !!!
鈥� think about the snow, how it's falling, all the time. how it's falling on the graves of the dead
鈥� think about how everyone you love will die soon. prepare your funeral outfit in your mind
鈥� get super excited for some sex with your wife only to find out she's thinking about another man
鈥� think about how all love in your life has been mediocre
鈥� think more about snow.
鈥� make sure at least 1 of your guests arrives sloshed
鈥� get someone to play the piano really badly
鈥� serve goose
鈥� sing a sad song that reminds one of your guests about how the love of her life tragically died
鈥� get someone to make a speech with at least two (2) references to mythology. + repetition
鈥� bitch about the Pope
鈥� discuss your favourite underrated choir singers
鈥� do an imitation of a horse ? for some reason ?
鈥� question to holiday motives of your guest
鈥� loudly announce you actually hate your country of origin !!!
鈥� think about the snow, how it's falling, all the time. how it's falling on the graves of the dead
鈥� think about how everyone you love will die soon. prepare your funeral outfit in your mind
鈥� get super excited for some sex with your wife only to find out she's thinking about another man
鈥� think about how all love in your life has been mediocre
鈥� think more about snow.
August 16, 2020
賲丕 兀賳 鬲亘丿兀 丕賱丨賰丕賷丞 ..賵 廿匕 亘賴丕 鬲毓賱賳 丕賱賳賴丕賷丞 貙 兀賱賷爻 賴匕丕 賲購丨亘胤丕賸 責責.....
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亘丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 丨賮丕賵丞 丕賱囟賷丕賮丞 亘匕賱賰 丕賱丨賮賱 廿賱丕 廿賳賴 賷卮毓乇 亘丕賱賴夭賷賲丞 兀賲丕賲 賲丨丕丿孬丞 賯氐賷乇丞 賱賲 賷賯賱 亘賴丕 賰賱 賲丕 賷乇賷丿 賯賵賱賴 賵毓賳丿卅匕賺 亘睾鬲丞 賷卮毓乇 亘乇睾亘丞 噩丕乇賮丞 賮賷 丕賱禺乇賵噩 賲賳 丕賱丨賮賱 賵丕賱鬲賳夭賴 賵丨賷丿丕購 賮賷 鬲賱賰 丕賱賱賷賱丞 丕賱孬賱噩賷丞 ..賵爻乇毓丕賳 賲丕 鬲禺賲丿 鬲賱賰 丕賱乇睾亘丞 賵鬲禺亘賵 賰賲丕 賱賲 鬲賰賳... 賱賯丿 卮毓乇 亘丕賱毓夭賱丞 乇睾賲 丨囟賵乇賴 賵爻胤 丕賱噩賲賷毓...匕丕賰 氐賵乇丞 賲賳 丕賱賲賵鬲...
兀賱賯賶 亘禺胤亘丞 賯氐賷乇丞 毓賱賶 賲爻丕賲毓 丕賱丨囟賵乇 賷鬲亘賷賳 賱賰 賲賳賴丕 丕匕丕 賲丕 鬲兀賲賱賳丕 兀丨夭丕賳賳丕 賵鬲賯氐賷賳丕 噩匕賵乇賴丕 亘匕丕賰乇鬲賳丕 ..賵賱賲 賳鬲賵賯賮 毓賳 丕爻鬲丿毓丕亍賴丕 爻賳爻賯胤 賱丕賲丨丕賱丞 賮賷 丕賱賴丕賵賷丞 賵賳賮鬲賯丿 丕賱賯丿乇丞 毓賱賶 丕賱賲賵丕氐賱丞 ..賷鬲乇丕亍賶 賱賷 兀賳賳丕 賳氐亘丨 賯賵丕賱亘 噩丕賲丿丞 亘丕乇丿丞 ..廿賳賴 丕賱賲賵鬲...
賷兀鬲賷 丨丿賷孬賴 賲睾乇賯丕賸 賮賷 丕賱賲噩丕賲賱丕鬲 丕賱亘丕賴鬲丞 丕賱賲鬲丨匕賱賯丞 ..廿賳賴丕 賲丨丕賵賱丞 賱丕孬亘丕鬲 丨囟賵乇 賲賳 賷丐賲賳 亘兀賳賴 賱賷爻 賱賴 賵噩賵丿..丕賱賷爻 匕賱賰 賲乇丕丿賮丕賸 賱賱賲賵鬲 責....
賵兀禺賷乇丕賸 鬲賰卮賮 賱賴 夭賵噩鬲賴 亘亘乇丕亍丞 鬲丕賲丞 毓賳丿賲丕 鬲爻賲毓 賲賯胤賵毓丞 賲賵爻賷賯賷丞 賱兀睾賳賷丞 賲丕貙 毓賳 匕賰乇賶 兀丨丿賴賲 兀丨亘賴丕 賷賵賲丕賸 賵賰丕賳 賷乇丿丿賴丕 毓賱賶 賲爻丕賲毓賴丕 賵賯丿 賲丕鬲 卮丕亘丕賸..
毓賳丿卅匕賺 鬲賯鬲乇亘 乇賵丨 丕賱爻賷丿 " 睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" 賲賳 丕賱賲賳胤賯丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲賯胤賳賴丕 丨卮賵丿丕賸 賲賳 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 貙 亘丕鬲鬲 匕賰乇賶 丕賱卮丕亘 胤賷賮丕賸 卮亘丨賷丕賸 賷賲孬賱 兀賲丕賲賴 賵丕匕 亘賴 賷鬲賱丕卮賶 賵噩賵丿賴 賲賳 毓丕賱賲賴 賱賷賳鬲賯賱 賴賵 丕賱賶 毓丕賱賲 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲..
賷禺鬲鬲賲 "噩賵賷爻" 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 亘賲卮賴丿 鬲爻丕賯胤 丕賱孬賱噩 亘乇賮賯 賷賳賯乇 丕賱賳丕賮匕丞 賵賲賳 孬賲 賰孬賷賮丕賸 賷噩孬賲 毓賱賶 賰賱 卮賷亍....
丕賱孬賱噩 賴賵 丕賱丌禺乇 爻乇毓丕賳 賲丕 賷鬲囟丕亍賱..賷匕賵亘..賷賲賵鬲.....
噩賵賷爻 賰丕鬲亘 毓馗賷賲 賲匕賴賱 賷丿賴卮賰 亘丕賱鬲毓乇賮 毓賱賶 丕賱兀丿亘 賲賳 夭賵丕賷丕 噩丿賷丿丞 賵賲禺鬲賱賮丞 賱賲 鬲賯毓 毓賷賳丕賰 賯亘賱丕賸 毓賱賷賴丕 賵賴匕丕 賴賵 丕賱廿亘丿丕毓....
丨賮賱賹 乇丕賯氐 賷囟賲 毓丿丿 賲賳 丕賱賲毓丕乇賮 賵丕賱兀氐丿賯丕亍 賷賯丕賲 爻賳賵賷丕賸 賮賷 賲賳夭賱 丕賱丌賳爻鬲丕賳 " 賲賵乇賰丕賳" ..丨爻賳丕賸 兀賷賳 賴賳丕賱賰 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 責!!..
賲丕 兀賳 鬲賳囟賲 賱賱丨賮賱 丨鬲賶 賷乇丕賵丿賰 丕賱卮賰 亘兀賳 噩賲賷毓 丕賱賲丿毓賵賷賳 兀卮亘丕丨丕賸....賵賱賰賳 丿毓賳丕 賳購爻賱胤 亘賯毓丞 賲賳 丕賱囟賵亍 毓賱賶 兀丨丿 丕賱賲丿毓賵賷賷賳 賵賴賵 丕賱爻賷丿 " 睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" ..毓匕乇丕賸 賮賷亘丿賵 兀賳 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 "噩賲賷爻 噩賵賷爻" 賱賳 賷丿毓賰 丿賵賳 鬲丨賱賷賱 鬲賱賰 丕賱卮禺氐賷丞 鬲丨賱賷賱丕購 鬲賮氐賷賱賷丕賸 賵丿賯賷賯丕賸 ..賱兀賳賴 卮禺氐 賷賲孬賱 兀卮賰丕賱丕賸 賲禺鬲賱賮丞 賵兀胤賷丕賮丕賸 賲鬲賳賵毓丞 賱賱賲賵鬲....
亘丕賱乇睾賲 賲賳 丨賮丕賵丞 丕賱囟賷丕賮丞 亘匕賱賰 丕賱丨賮賱 廿賱丕 廿賳賴 賷卮毓乇 亘丕賱賴夭賷賲丞 兀賲丕賲 賲丨丕丿孬丞 賯氐賷乇丞 賱賲 賷賯賱 亘賴丕 賰賱 賲丕 賷乇賷丿 賯賵賱賴 賵毓賳丿卅匕賺 亘睾鬲丞 賷卮毓乇 亘乇睾亘丞 噩丕乇賮丞 賮賷 丕賱禺乇賵噩 賲賳 丕賱丨賮賱 賵丕賱鬲賳夭賴 賵丨賷丿丕購 賮賷 鬲賱賰 丕賱賱賷賱丞 丕賱孬賱噩賷丞 ..賵爻乇毓丕賳 賲丕 鬲禺賲丿 鬲賱賰 丕賱乇睾亘丞 賵鬲禺亘賵 賰賲丕 賱賲 鬲賰賳... 賱賯丿 卮毓乇 亘丕賱毓夭賱丞 乇睾賲 丨囟賵乇賴 賵爻胤 丕賱噩賲賷毓...匕丕賰 氐賵乇丞 賲賳 丕賱賲賵鬲...
兀賱賯賶 亘禺胤亘丞 賯氐賷乇丞 毓賱賶 賲爻丕賲毓 丕賱丨囟賵乇 賷鬲亘賷賳 賱賰 賲賳賴丕 丕匕丕 賲丕 鬲兀賲賱賳丕 兀丨夭丕賳賳丕 賵鬲賯氐賷賳丕 噩匕賵乇賴丕 亘匕丕賰乇鬲賳丕 ..賵賱賲 賳鬲賵賯賮 毓賳 丕爻鬲丿毓丕亍賴丕 爻賳爻賯胤 賱丕賲丨丕賱丞 賮賷 丕賱賴丕賵賷丞 賵賳賮鬲賯丿 丕賱賯丿乇丞 毓賱賶 丕賱賲賵丕氐賱丞 ..賷鬲乇丕亍賶 賱賷 兀賳賳丕 賳氐亘丨 賯賵丕賱亘 噩丕賲丿丞 亘丕乇丿丞 ..廿賳賴 丕賱賲賵鬲...
賷兀鬲賷 丨丿賷孬賴 賲睾乇賯丕賸 賮賷 丕賱賲噩丕賲賱丕鬲 丕賱亘丕賴鬲丞 丕賱賲鬲丨匕賱賯丞 ..廿賳賴丕 賲丨丕賵賱丞 賱丕孬亘丕鬲 丨囟賵乇 賲賳 賷丐賲賳 亘兀賳賴 賱賷爻 賱賴 賵噩賵丿..丕賱賷爻 匕賱賰 賲乇丕丿賮丕賸 賱賱賲賵鬲 責....
賵兀禺賷乇丕賸 鬲賰卮賮 賱賴 夭賵噩鬲賴 亘亘乇丕亍丞 鬲丕賲丞 毓賳丿賲丕 鬲爻賲毓 賲賯胤賵毓丞 賲賵爻賷賯賷丞 賱兀睾賳賷丞 賲丕貙 毓賳 匕賰乇賶 兀丨丿賴賲 兀丨亘賴丕 賷賵賲丕賸 賵賰丕賳 賷乇丿丿賴丕 毓賱賶 賲爻丕賲毓賴丕 賵賯丿 賲丕鬲 卮丕亘丕賸..
毓賳丿卅匕賺 鬲賯鬲乇亘 乇賵丨 丕賱爻賷丿 " 睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" 賲賳 丕賱賲賳胤賯丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲賯胤賳賴丕 丨卮賵丿丕賸 賲賳 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 貙 亘丕鬲鬲 匕賰乇賶 丕賱卮丕亘 胤賷賮丕賸 卮亘丨賷丕賸 賷賲孬賱 兀賲丕賲賴 賵丕匕 亘賴 賷鬲賱丕卮賶 賵噩賵丿賴 賲賳 毓丕賱賲賴 賱賷賳鬲賯賱 賴賵 丕賱賶 毓丕賱賲 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲..
賷禺鬲鬲賲 "噩賵賷爻" 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 亘賲卮賴丿 鬲爻丕賯胤 丕賱孬賱噩 亘乇賮賯 賷賳賯乇 丕賱賳丕賮匕丞 賵賲賳 孬賲 賰孬賷賮丕賸 賷噩孬賲 毓賱賶 賰賱 卮賷亍....
丕賱孬賱噩 賴賵 丕賱丌禺乇 爻乇毓丕賳 賲丕 賷鬲囟丕亍賱..賷匕賵亘..賷賲賵鬲.....
噩賵賷爻 賰丕鬲亘 毓馗賷賲 賲匕賴賱 賷丿賴卮賰 亘丕賱鬲毓乇賮 毓賱賶 丕賱兀丿亘 賲賳 夭賵丕賷丕 噩丿賷丿丞 賵賲禺鬲賱賮丞 賱賲 鬲賯毓 毓賷賳丕賰 賯亘賱丕賸 毓賱賷賴丕 賵賴匕丕 賴賵 丕賱廿亘丿丕毓....
September 26, 2022
驴Saben c贸mo qued茅 una vez terminada mi lectura de Los muertos? Decir 'muerto' podr铆a sonar muy clich茅, pero la misma verdad ante todo, y es que no les miento si les digo que este es el libro m谩s '3 estrellas' que he le铆do en mucho tiempo, por as铆 decirlo. Despu茅s pens茅, 'quiz谩 este haya sido el objetivo del autor, quiz谩 despu茅s de todo, sentir una gran indiferencia por la historia, por los personajes, y por todo lo que acabo de leer ha sido el plan original y por ello se ha cumplido con el prop贸sito de la lectura', pero tal vez esto sea pensar demasiado acerca de algo que desconozco, y que tampoco pienso aventurarme a conocerlo.
La principal raz贸n por la que decid铆 leer esta novella fue por un club de lectura donde se leen relatos peri贸dicamente, y al ser este caso mi primera vez uni茅ndome, me dije '驴por qu茅 no hacerlo con esta historia de Joyce?'. Si bien la prosa del autor es magn铆fica, literalmente de las mejores prosas que he encontrado 煤ltimamente, y cada palabra est谩 ah铆 como encajando en el lugar preciso, dicha prosa, dicho estilo no logr贸 transmitirme nada, me dej贸 completamente indiferente, m谩s all谩 del hecho de que tanto el discurso del protagonista a la mesa como la historia del final fueron relevantes y con un sentido simb贸lico en mi punto de vista, no pude evitar quedarme fr铆o ante tal exhibici贸n de palabras.
Recuerdo que alguien a quien sigo en booktube alguna vez hizo una comparaci贸n entre una prosa distante y fr铆a, y una que lograba trasmitir mucho al lector: es como si estuvieras escuchando a un cantante, quien a pesar de interpretar bien su canci贸n, la pasi贸n y el amor por lo que canta est谩n totalmente ausentes. En pocas palabras, es una canci贸n sin alma, y es tal el caso con Los muertos de Joyce, donde no pude encontrarle el alma por ning煤n lado.
Tampoco voy a culpar a nadie diciendo que me vendieron mal la obra en un principio, pero he visto esta historia en antolog铆as como una historia navide帽a, y hay que hacer una distinci贸n aqu铆: una cosa es que la trama suceda en la v铆spera de la Navidad y otra muy distinta a que el relato tenga que ver directamente con la Navidad. En este caso, aplica m谩s bien para el primero y no para el segundo.
Por otro lado, y esto s铆 que fue una decepci贸n en cierto modo, esperaba una historia diferente: si bien el inicio no es mi parte favorita, s铆 que pens茅 que Kate ser铆a la protagonista de la historia o al menos se enfocar铆a en ella o en Julia y Mary Jane, pero cuando todo se empieza a enfocar en Gabriel, fue como algo que me cuentas y no me interesa, hasta el punto de dejarme completamente en la nada. Al final me pregunto, 驴qui茅n es Gabriel? 驴Por qu茅 deber铆a sentir algo con la historia del final si en ning煤n momento se me pidi贸 como lector que sintiera algo por sus personajes? De nuevo, las palabras bellamente plasmadas pero absolutamente vac铆as.
Me da un poco de temor el notar que Los muertos es supuestamente el mejor relato de Dublineses y que de aqu铆 mi referencia ser谩 ver las dem谩s historias como inferiores a algo que ya de por s铆 me pareci贸 regular. Por otro lado, Eveline fue una lectura que hice el a帽o pasado como parte de una antolog铆a de relatos de viajes y me termin贸 gustando mucho, as铆 que supongo habr谩 t贸picos para todos los gustos. Ya ver茅 si me animo a leer la colecci贸n completa pronto, o mejor me arriesgo a leer algo m谩s del autor, antes de inclinar mi balanza hacia lo negativo o lo positivo, seg煤n sea el caso.
鈥淗is soul swooned softly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.鈥�
La principal raz贸n por la que decid铆 leer esta novella fue por un club de lectura donde se leen relatos peri贸dicamente, y al ser este caso mi primera vez uni茅ndome, me dije '驴por qu茅 no hacerlo con esta historia de Joyce?'. Si bien la prosa del autor es magn铆fica, literalmente de las mejores prosas que he encontrado 煤ltimamente, y cada palabra est谩 ah铆 como encajando en el lugar preciso, dicha prosa, dicho estilo no logr贸 transmitirme nada, me dej贸 completamente indiferente, m谩s all谩 del hecho de que tanto el discurso del protagonista a la mesa como la historia del final fueron relevantes y con un sentido simb贸lico en mi punto de vista, no pude evitar quedarme fr铆o ante tal exhibici贸n de palabras.
Recuerdo que alguien a quien sigo en booktube alguna vez hizo una comparaci贸n entre una prosa distante y fr铆a, y una que lograba trasmitir mucho al lector: es como si estuvieras escuchando a un cantante, quien a pesar de interpretar bien su canci贸n, la pasi贸n y el amor por lo que canta est谩n totalmente ausentes. En pocas palabras, es una canci贸n sin alma, y es tal el caso con Los muertos de Joyce, donde no pude encontrarle el alma por ning煤n lado.
Tampoco voy a culpar a nadie diciendo que me vendieron mal la obra en un principio, pero he visto esta historia en antolog铆as como una historia navide帽a, y hay que hacer una distinci贸n aqu铆: una cosa es que la trama suceda en la v铆spera de la Navidad y otra muy distinta a que el relato tenga que ver directamente con la Navidad. En este caso, aplica m谩s bien para el primero y no para el segundo.
Por otro lado, y esto s铆 que fue una decepci贸n en cierto modo, esperaba una historia diferente: si bien el inicio no es mi parte favorita, s铆 que pens茅 que Kate ser铆a la protagonista de la historia o al menos se enfocar铆a en ella o en Julia y Mary Jane, pero cuando todo se empieza a enfocar en Gabriel, fue como algo que me cuentas y no me interesa, hasta el punto de dejarme completamente en la nada. Al final me pregunto, 驴qui茅n es Gabriel? 驴Por qu茅 deber铆a sentir algo con la historia del final si en ning煤n momento se me pidi贸 como lector que sintiera algo por sus personajes? De nuevo, las palabras bellamente plasmadas pero absolutamente vac铆as.
Me da un poco de temor el notar que Los muertos es supuestamente el mejor relato de Dublineses y que de aqu铆 mi referencia ser谩 ver las dem谩s historias como inferiores a algo que ya de por s铆 me pareci贸 regular. Por otro lado, Eveline fue una lectura que hice el a帽o pasado como parte de una antolog铆a de relatos de viajes y me termin贸 gustando mucho, as铆 que supongo habr谩 t贸picos para todos los gustos. Ya ver茅 si me animo a leer la colecci贸n completa pronto, o mejor me arriesgo a leer algo m谩s del autor, antes de inclinar mi balanza hacia lo negativo o lo positivo, seg煤n sea el caso.
鈥淗is soul swooned softly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.鈥�
December 31, 2017
It is just a short story鈥� I鈥檝e started to write my thoughts about it so many times. But it is so perfect, that by the time i reach the second paragraph, i hit the wall. My thoughts stick into each other and become an undistguishable whirlpool of awe.
So, you do not need to continue reading what follows; just read the story, and read it now when something is ending but something else is barely beginning just yet鈥� Christmas and New Year, this time..
It starts with something very relatable, very traditional - two old ladies, the aunts of Gabriel, the main character, are hosting a Christmas party. They has been doing it for the last 30 years or so. The scenario is familiar, all usual faces of family and friends are there; everyone has got a predictable role naturally evolved during those years. Joyce describes the scene with absolutely delicious prose. A few words by him suffice when someone else would need five pages of the text. His language possess this musicality, totally unique to him. (From the writers I know, Nabokov comes close, but he sounds sometimes a little laboured):
鈥淎s the buttons of his overcoat slipped with a squeaking noise through the snow-stiffened frieze, a cold fragrant air from out-of-doors escaped from crevices and folds.鈥�
But there are people who are not there, though we feel there presence.. I think, in Poland they鈥檝e got this tradition of keeping an empty chair for the family members who passed away. And Joyce keeps this chair as well very subtly for now. Gabriel looks at the portrait of his mum who died sometimes ago. He also makes a joke about his grandad.
But the story really goes into the highest gear in the last few pages. By sheer coincidence, Gabriel finds out something tragic and beautiful which existed in the life of his wife a way before him. This revelation totally shocks him; he is in awe with the magnitude of her experience and feels diminished by it.
It also derailes his train of thoughts towards the finiteness of life, towards the transience of our existence, especially of the older people we love. When we are young, we think they will be there forever. They are not supposed to age and change, and eventually 鈥渂ecome shades鈥濃€�
鈥淗is soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling.鈥�
When i think about it, I see the huge limitless stage full of people and decorations with the single source of light. The light moves slowly beaming on a group for a time being and then moving towards another one, leaving everyone else there in shadow, never to come back鈥�
And there is another layer there for me. He looks at his wife and realises that she now is not the same person who has had that experience. This young girl is a shade as well. Our old selfs are shades of us, the ones which do not exist any longer here, but the ones we still remember and miss and try to reach sometimes鈥� And a familiar song, or drops of rain, or silent sound of snow could call upon and bring the one of these shades back for a fraction of a moment, and make it real again鈥�
Happy New Year!
So, you do not need to continue reading what follows; just read the story, and read it now when something is ending but something else is barely beginning just yet鈥� Christmas and New Year, this time..
It starts with something very relatable, very traditional - two old ladies, the aunts of Gabriel, the main character, are hosting a Christmas party. They has been doing it for the last 30 years or so. The scenario is familiar, all usual faces of family and friends are there; everyone has got a predictable role naturally evolved during those years. Joyce describes the scene with absolutely delicious prose. A few words by him suffice when someone else would need five pages of the text. His language possess this musicality, totally unique to him. (From the writers I know, Nabokov comes close, but he sounds sometimes a little laboured):
鈥淎s the buttons of his overcoat slipped with a squeaking noise through the snow-stiffened frieze, a cold fragrant air from out-of-doors escaped from crevices and folds.鈥�
But there are people who are not there, though we feel there presence.. I think, in Poland they鈥檝e got this tradition of keeping an empty chair for the family members who passed away. And Joyce keeps this chair as well very subtly for now. Gabriel looks at the portrait of his mum who died sometimes ago. He also makes a joke about his grandad.
But the story really goes into the highest gear in the last few pages. By sheer coincidence, Gabriel finds out something tragic and beautiful which existed in the life of his wife a way before him. This revelation totally shocks him; he is in awe with the magnitude of her experience and feels diminished by it.
It also derailes his train of thoughts towards the finiteness of life, towards the transience of our existence, especially of the older people we love. When we are young, we think they will be there forever. They are not supposed to age and change, and eventually 鈥渂ecome shades鈥濃€�
鈥淗is soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling.鈥�
When i think about it, I see the huge limitless stage full of people and decorations with the single source of light. The light moves slowly beaming on a group for a time being and then moving towards another one, leaving everyone else there in shadow, never to come back鈥�
And there is another layer there for me. He looks at his wife and realises that she now is not the same person who has had that experience. This young girl is a shade as well. Our old selfs are shades of us, the ones which do not exist any longer here, but the ones we still remember and miss and try to reach sometimes鈥� And a familiar song, or drops of rain, or silent sound of snow could call upon and bring the one of these shades back for a fraction of a moment, and make it real again鈥�
Happy New Year!
May 26, 2020
3.5
鈥溬冑� 丕賱乇噩丕賱 賲鬲賲賱賯賵賳貙 賴賲 賷爻毓賵賳 賮賯胤 廿賱賶 賲丕 賷爻鬲胤賷毓賵賳 丕賱丨氐賵賱 毓賱賷賴 賲賳賰鈥�.
.噩賷賲爻 噩賵賷爻
鈥溬冑� 丕賱乇噩丕賱 賲鬲賲賱賯賵賳貙 賴賲 賷爻毓賵賳 賮賯胤 廿賱賶 賲丕 賷爻鬲胤賷毓賵賳 丕賱丨氐賵賱 毓賱賷賴 賲賳賰鈥�.
.噩賷賲爻 噩賵賷爻
January 14, 2020
賴匕賴 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 丨夭賷賳丞 貙 丨夭賷賳丞 賲孬賱 賱賷丕賱賷 丕賱卮鬲丕亍貙 匕賱賰 丕賱丨夭賳 丕賱氐賲鬲 丕賱匕賷 賷鬲卮賰賱 亘賱丕 兀丨丿丕孬 囟乇賵乇賷丞貙 賲賰丕賳 賵丕丨丿 賷噩賲毓 毓丿丞 兀卮禺丕氐 賲丨亘賷賳 賱賱賲賵爻賷賯賶 賵丕賱毓夭賮貙 賷鬲賯丕亘賱賵賳 賮賷 噩賵 賰卅賷亘貙 亘賷賳賲丕 丕賱孬賱噩 賷鬲爻丕賯胤 賮賷 丕賱禺丕乇噩貙 賵丕賱賰賱 賷賴乇毓 賳丨賵 丕賱賲丿賮兀丞貙 賵丕賱毓乇亘丕鬲 賮賷 丕賱禺丕乇噩 鬲賯乇賯毓 毓賱賶 賳丕氐賷丞 丕賱胤乇賷賯 賵丕賱亘禺丕乇 賷鬲氐丕毓丿 賵賰兀賳 丕賱賲賳夭賱 丕賱匕賷 賷鬲丨丿孬 毓賳賴 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 賴賵 丕賱賲賳夭賱 丕賱賵丨賷丿 丕賱賲鬲亘賯賷 賮賷 丕賱毓丕賱賲 貙 賯丿 鬲亘丿賵 賲孬賱 丨賰丕賷丞 賲亘鬲賵乇丞 兀賵 賳氐 賷毓孬乇 毓賱賶 卮禺氐賷丕鬲賴 賮賷 丿丕禺賱 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞貙 賱丕 鬲毓乇賮 廿賳 賰丕賳鬲 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲 賳丕卅賲丞 兀賲 賲賷鬲丞貙 兀賲 兀卮亘丕丨 丕爻鬲賷賯馗賵丕 賱賱鬲賵 賲噩亘乇賷賳 毓賱賶 兀丿丕亍 丿賵乇賴賲 賮賷 乇賵丕賷丞 賱賲 鬲賰鬲亘 賱賴賲貙 鬲賰丕丿 鬲爻鬲賲毓 賱氐賵鬲 丕賱賲賵爻賷賯賶 賮賷 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞貙 賰賱 卮賷亍 賷卮毓乇賰 亘兀賳 卮賷卅丕賸 爻賷丨丿孬貙 賵賱賰賳 賲賳 丿賵賳 噩丿賵賶貙 賲孬賱賲丕 賷賮毓賱 氐丕賲賵賷賱 亘賷賰賷鬲 賲毓 賯乇丕亍賴貙 噩賲賷爻 噩賵賷爻 卮禺氐賷丕鬲賴 鬲亘丿賵 兀賯乇亘 賱賱兀卮亘丕丨 亘賱 賴賷 賰匕賱賰貙 賲丕 兀賳 鬲賱賲丨 兀丨丿 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲 丨鬲賶 鬲賮鬲賯丿賴 賮賷 孬賵丕賳賷貙 賲孬賱 賵賲賷囟 毓丕亘乇 貙 兀賵 卮丕卮丞 鬲噩乇賷 毓賱賷賴丕 丕賱卮禺氐賷丕鬲 賰賲丕 賮賷 丨賱賲 毓丕亘乇 兀賵 匕賰乇賷丕鬲 囟丕賱丞貙 賴賳丕賰 睾丕亘乇賷賷賱 丕賱匕賷 賱丕 賷鬲賲賰賳 賲賳 賮毓賱 卮賷亍貙 賷亘丿賵 賰賲賳 賷亘丨孬 丿丕卅賲丕賸 毓賳 丨賱貙 賳氐賮 賲賷鬲貙 賳氐賮 賳丕卅賲貙 賷賯毓 囟賲賳 丿丕卅乇丞 賲賳 丕賱賲賲賰賳 兀賳 賱丕 賷賰賵賳 賱賴 賵噩賵丿貙 賰丌亘丞 胤丕睾賷丞 賵爻乇丿 賷賵丨賷 賱賰 亘兀賳 睾丕亘乇賷賷賱 丿丕卅賲丕賸 毓賱賶 賵卮賰 賯賵賱 卮賷亍 賲丕貙 鬲賳鬲丕亘賴 丕賱乇睾亘丕鬲 賵丕賱卮賴賵丕鬲貙 賷乇賷丿 兀賳 賷毓孬乇 毓賱賶 賳賮爻賴貙 賲孬賱 賲賳 賷丨丕賵賱 兀賳 賷賰賵賳 胤賷亘丕賸 毓賱賶 丕賱丿賵丕賲貙 孬賲 鬲兀鬲賷 賯囟賷丞 丕賱丨亘 賵丕賱賲賵鬲貙 賴匕賴 丕賱賯囟賷丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲卮胤乇 丕賱丨賷丕丞 卮胤乇賷賳貙 亘賷賳 賵噩賵丿 氐丕賲鬲 賵丌禺乇 賮賷 賷胤乇賯 亘丕亘賴 亘賱丕 兀爻鬲丕匕丕賳貙 鬲鬲爻乇亘 丕賱丨賰丕賷丞 賴賳丕 賲孬賱 賲卮賴丿 囟亘丕亘賷貙 賱丕 鬲毓乇賮 丕亘丿丕賸 賲丕 廿匕丕 賰丕賳鬲 賯氐丞 兀賲賵丕鬲 兀賲 兀丨賷丕亍貙 兀賲 賴賷 賴匕賷丕賳丕鬲 賲鬲賯賱亘丞 賮賷 賱毓賳丞 賰鬲丕亘賷丞 鬲爻亘賯 丕賱賲賰賵孬 賮賷 兀賷 賲賰丕賳 賮賷 丕賱賳氐貙 兀賵賱 賯乇丕亍丞 賱賷 賱 噩賷賲爻 噩賵賷爻貙 賯乇丕亍丞 賲匕賴賱丞 貙 毓賲賷賯丞貙 賷賮賰乇 丕賱賯丕乇卅 賮賷 賳賴丕賷丕鬲 賲鬲毓丿丿丞貙 賰賱 卮賷亍 賴賳丕 賯丕亘賱 賱賱丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕鬲貙 賷卮亘賴 鬲賲丕賲丕賸 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賱 氐丕賲賵賷賱 亘賷賰賷鬲貙 兀亘丨孬 丿丕卅賲丕賸 毓賳 乇賵丕賷丕鬲 賲孬賱 賴匕賴貙 乇賵丕賷丕鬲 賱丕 鬲亘丿賵 賵丕囟丨丞 鬲賲丕賲丕賸貙 賵賱丕 鬲毓孬乇 賮賷賴丕 毓賱賶 兀賷丞 廿噩丕亘丞..
October 14, 2022
5鈽�
鈥淭hen he took from his waistcoat pocket a little paper and glanced at the headings he had made for his speech. He was undecided about the lines from Robert Browning for he feared they would be above the heads of his hearers.鈥�
Gabriel Conroy and his wife, Gretta, have arrived late at his aunts鈥� annual dance and dinner on a snowy evening in Dublin around Christmastime. He is to give a speech at the dinner, and it seems clear he thinks he is a cut above the ordinary folk, his aunts鈥� music pupils and others.
He is their favourite nephew, and they seem relieved that he has finally arrived. This is ten o鈥檆lock at night and the dancing has begun, but it鈥檚 a long time before dinner is served.
He and his wife are spending the night in town, having left the children with 鈥淏essie鈥�. These were the days when people had help in the home and when visitors might have been expected to stay over for the night.
While he seems to enjoy being the centre of attention, he is nervous about his speech, and an awkward conversation with an old friend who questions his Irishness doesn鈥檛 help. [A West Briton is an admirer of the English.]
鈥淲ell, I鈥檓 ashamed of you, said Miss Ivors frankly. To say you鈥檇 write for a rag like that. I didn鈥檛 think you were a West Briton.
A look of perplexity appeared on Gabriel鈥檚 face. It was true that he wrote a literary column every Wednesday in 鈥楾he Daily Express鈥�> , for which he was paid fifteen shillings. But that did not make him a West Briton surely.
. . .
He wanted to say that literature was above politics. But they were friends of many years鈥� standing and their careers had been parallel, first at the University and then as teachers: he could not risk a grandiose phrase with her.鈥�
No, he couldn鈥檛 risk her, his intellectual equal, presumably, giving his self-confidence (smug air of superiority?) a knock. He throws himself into the dancing, but when he later asks his wife if she was dancing, she says 鈥淥f course I was. Didn鈥檛 you see me?鈥� As the time nears for his speech, and although the weather outside is blizzard-like, he considers his situation.
鈥淕abriel's warm trembling fingers tapped the cold pane of the window. How cool it must be outside! How pleasant it would be to walk out alone, first along by the river and then through the park! The snow would be lying on the branches of the trees and forming a bright cap on the top of the Wellington Monument. How much more pleasant it would be there than at the supper-table!鈥�
Escape! He's tried so hard to distract himself that he didn鈥檛 even notice his wife was dancing, and we know he鈥檚 in bad shape when all the delectable dishes that Joyce so mouth-wateringly presents aren鈥檛 as appealing as cooling off in the snow.
Joyce lets him brood and shows his mood moving through memories of his elderly aunts, his life, and his wife, everything as it pertains to him. Near the end, as his heart swells with pride 鈥� favourite nephew, speech done, lovely wife (night in a hotel with kids at home with Bessie!) 鈥� he is stopped in his tracks by the realisation that he is not the centre of the universe.
I enjoyed the over-the-top fussing by the aunts and the glorious feast, and I appreciated how much the music and dance meant in 1914. As for Gabriel Conroy, I feel Joyce has pinned him down well. I must read more Joyce!
This is the last of fifteen stories in The Dubliners, which is freely available in many forms. Thanks to the Short Story Club Group for selecting this one for discussion soon.
/group/show/...
5鈽� for the narration Andrew Scott is a well-known actor (whom I loved to hate as Moriarty in Sherlock). He is Irish himself and read this with such feeling - it was wonderful.
鈥淭hen he took from his waistcoat pocket a little paper and glanced at the headings he had made for his speech. He was undecided about the lines from Robert Browning for he feared they would be above the heads of his hearers.鈥�
Gabriel Conroy and his wife, Gretta, have arrived late at his aunts鈥� annual dance and dinner on a snowy evening in Dublin around Christmastime. He is to give a speech at the dinner, and it seems clear he thinks he is a cut above the ordinary folk, his aunts鈥� music pupils and others.
He is their favourite nephew, and they seem relieved that he has finally arrived. This is ten o鈥檆lock at night and the dancing has begun, but it鈥檚 a long time before dinner is served.
He and his wife are spending the night in town, having left the children with 鈥淏essie鈥�. These were the days when people had help in the home and when visitors might have been expected to stay over for the night.
While he seems to enjoy being the centre of attention, he is nervous about his speech, and an awkward conversation with an old friend who questions his Irishness doesn鈥檛 help. [A West Briton is an admirer of the English.]
鈥淲ell, I鈥檓 ashamed of you, said Miss Ivors frankly. To say you鈥檇 write for a rag like that. I didn鈥檛 think you were a West Briton.
A look of perplexity appeared on Gabriel鈥檚 face. It was true that he wrote a literary column every Wednesday in 鈥楾he Daily Express鈥�> , for which he was paid fifteen shillings. But that did not make him a West Briton surely.
. . .
He wanted to say that literature was above politics. But they were friends of many years鈥� standing and their careers had been parallel, first at the University and then as teachers: he could not risk a grandiose phrase with her.鈥�
No, he couldn鈥檛 risk her, his intellectual equal, presumably, giving his self-confidence (smug air of superiority?) a knock. He throws himself into the dancing, but when he later asks his wife if she was dancing, she says 鈥淥f course I was. Didn鈥檛 you see me?鈥� As the time nears for his speech, and although the weather outside is blizzard-like, he considers his situation.
鈥淕abriel's warm trembling fingers tapped the cold pane of the window. How cool it must be outside! How pleasant it would be to walk out alone, first along by the river and then through the park! The snow would be lying on the branches of the trees and forming a bright cap on the top of the Wellington Monument. How much more pleasant it would be there than at the supper-table!鈥�
Escape! He's tried so hard to distract himself that he didn鈥檛 even notice his wife was dancing, and we know he鈥檚 in bad shape when all the delectable dishes that Joyce so mouth-wateringly presents aren鈥檛 as appealing as cooling off in the snow.
Joyce lets him brood and shows his mood moving through memories of his elderly aunts, his life, and his wife, everything as it pertains to him. Near the end, as his heart swells with pride 鈥� favourite nephew, speech done, lovely wife (night in a hotel with kids at home with Bessie!) 鈥� he is stopped in his tracks by the realisation that he is not the centre of the universe.
I enjoyed the over-the-top fussing by the aunts and the glorious feast, and I appreciated how much the music and dance meant in 1914. As for Gabriel Conroy, I feel Joyce has pinned him down well. I must read more Joyce!
This is the last of fifteen stories in The Dubliners, which is freely available in many forms. Thanks to the Short Story Club Group for selecting this one for discussion soon.
/group/show/...
5鈽� for the narration Andrew Scott is a well-known actor (whom I loved to hate as Moriarty in Sherlock). He is Irish himself and read this with such feeling - it was wonderful.
October 7, 2007
goddamn is this good. it's those last two pages... you hit those two pages and WHAM! if it doesn't destroy you, then you just ain't human.
November 16, 2016
I listened to a terrific audio recording, found here , alongside my Kindle edition of this and it truly brought the story to life.
This novella is the last to feature in Joyce's infamous collection, , and is cited as his greatest masterpiece. The story develops during a New Year's Eve party, thrown by the Morkan sisters, where the frivolities and festivities of the night act as a catalyst for one of the attendants to make a shocking revelation to her husband.
The story progressed slowly and it wasn't until the last few hundred words that the utter genius was revealed. This is ultimately a very melancholic piece, where the end portion contained the entire illusory and introspective morality. This was sublime in its whimsical elegance and subtle revelation of truth. A true masterpiece.
This novella is the last to feature in Joyce's infamous collection, , and is cited as his greatest masterpiece. The story develops during a New Year's Eve party, thrown by the Morkan sisters, where the frivolities and festivities of the night act as a catalyst for one of the attendants to make a shocking revelation to her husband.
The story progressed slowly and it wasn't until the last few hundred words that the utter genius was revealed. This is ultimately a very melancholic piece, where the end portion contained the entire illusory and introspective morality. This was sublime in its whimsical elegance and subtle revelation of truth. A true masterpiece.
June 25, 2024
乇賵丕賷丞 賯氐賷乇丞 兀賰孬乇 賲賳賴丕 賯氐丞 賯氐賷乇丞
賮賷 丨賮賱 賷噩賲毓 丕賱兀爻乇丞 鬲毓賷卮 賮賷 丿亘賱賳 賵廿賳噩賱鬲乇丕 賵兀賵乇賵亘丕貙 賱丨馗丞 爻乇丿賷丞 鬲噩賲毓 鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱毓丕賱賲 賲賳 爻賰丕賳 丕賱毓丕氐賲丞 丕賱兀賷乇賱賳丿賷丞 亘賲賳丕夭賱賴丕 賵卮賵丕乇毓賴丕 賵賲丨丕賱賴丕 賱爻賰丕賳 噩亘丕賱
丕賱兀賵賱賷賲亘 亘兀爻丕胤賷乇 賷爻鬲賲丿 賲賳賴丕 丕賱賳丕爻 賳賲丕匕噩 丕賱鬲卮禺賷氐 賵鬲賲孬賷賱 丕賱賲賵丕賯賮 賮賷 丿乇丕賲丕 丕賱丨賷丕丞 丕賱毓氐乇賷丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲賰丕丿 鬲禺囟毓 賱爻賷胤乇丞 丕賱毓賱賲
丨囟丕乇丞 丕賱睾乇亘 賮賷 賳賵賮賷賱丕 丨丕賮賱丞 亘賲賮乇丿丕鬲 丕賱賲丕卅丿丞 賵賲賵丕囟賷毓 丕賱爻賷丕爻丞 賵兀丨賱丕賲 丕賱賮賳 賵賲卮賰賱丞 丕賱夭賲賳 賵丨賰丕賷丕鬲 丕賱鬲賰賵賷賳 賵丕賱賲賵爻賷賯賶 賵丕賱兀賷丿賷賵賱賵噩賷丕
丨賵丕乇 丕丨鬲賮丕賱賷 亘丕賱丨賷丕丞 賵賲乇噩毓賷丞 丕賱賲賵鬲 賮賷 丕賱兀賮賯 丕賱賲賲鬲丿 丕賱匕賷 鬲胤乇丨 賮賷賴 賯囟賷丞 丕賱賵噩賵丿 賳賮爻賴丕
賱賵丨丕鬲 賲乇卅賷丞 丿丕禺賱 丕賱廿丿乇丕賰 賮賷 賲爻丕丨丕鬲 賮賷夭賷丕卅賷丞 賲丨爻賵亘丞 亘丿賯丞 亘乇噩賵丕夭賷丞 賲丨賰賲丞
氐賵鬲 賷爻鬲賳胤賯 丕賱鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱賯丿賷賲 丕賱賲鬲賵丕乇賷 賵氐禺亘 丕賱賲卮丕毓乇 睾賷乇 丕賱賲毓賱賳丞
賴賵丕賲卮 丕賱賲鬲乇噩賲 賲賮賷丿丞 賱賱睾丕賷丞 賰兀賳賴丕 賲禺鬲氐乇 鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱睾乇亘 賲賳 丕賱廿毓乇賷賯 廿賱賶 賳賴丕賷丞 丕賱賯乇賳 丕賱鬲丕爻毓 毓卮乇
賮賷 丨賮賱 賷噩賲毓 丕賱兀爻乇丞 鬲毓賷卮 賮賷 丿亘賱賳 賵廿賳噩賱鬲乇丕 賵兀賵乇賵亘丕貙 賱丨馗丞 爻乇丿賷丞 鬲噩賲毓 鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱毓丕賱賲 賲賳 爻賰丕賳 丕賱毓丕氐賲丞 丕賱兀賷乇賱賳丿賷丞 亘賲賳丕夭賱賴丕 賵卮賵丕乇毓賴丕 賵賲丨丕賱賴丕 賱爻賰丕賳 噩亘丕賱
丕賱兀賵賱賷賲亘 亘兀爻丕胤賷乇 賷爻鬲賲丿 賲賳賴丕 丕賱賳丕爻 賳賲丕匕噩 丕賱鬲卮禺賷氐 賵鬲賲孬賷賱 丕賱賲賵丕賯賮 賮賷 丿乇丕賲丕 丕賱丨賷丕丞 丕賱毓氐乇賷丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲賰丕丿 鬲禺囟毓 賱爻賷胤乇丞 丕賱毓賱賲
丨囟丕乇丞 丕賱睾乇亘 賮賷 賳賵賮賷賱丕 丨丕賮賱丞 亘賲賮乇丿丕鬲 丕賱賲丕卅丿丞 賵賲賵丕囟賷毓 丕賱爻賷丕爻丞 賵兀丨賱丕賲 丕賱賮賳 賵賲卮賰賱丞 丕賱夭賲賳 賵丨賰丕賷丕鬲 丕賱鬲賰賵賷賳 賵丕賱賲賵爻賷賯賶 賵丕賱兀賷丿賷賵賱賵噩賷丕
丨賵丕乇 丕丨鬲賮丕賱賷 亘丕賱丨賷丕丞 賵賲乇噩毓賷丞 丕賱賲賵鬲 賮賷 丕賱兀賮賯 丕賱賲賲鬲丿 丕賱匕賷 鬲胤乇丨 賮賷賴 賯囟賷丞 丕賱賵噩賵丿 賳賮爻賴丕
賱賵丨丕鬲 賲乇卅賷丞 丿丕禺賱 丕賱廿丿乇丕賰 賮賷 賲爻丕丨丕鬲 賮賷夭賷丕卅賷丞 賲丨爻賵亘丞 亘丿賯丞 亘乇噩賵丕夭賷丞 賲丨賰賲丞
氐賵鬲 賷爻鬲賳胤賯 丕賱鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱賯丿賷賲 丕賱賲鬲賵丕乇賷 賵氐禺亘 丕賱賲卮丕毓乇 睾賷乇 丕賱賲毓賱賳丞
賴賵丕賲卮 丕賱賲鬲乇噩賲 賲賮賷丿丞 賱賱睾丕賷丞 賰兀賳賴丕 賲禺鬲氐乇 鬲丕乇賷禺 丕賱睾乇亘 賲賳 丕賱廿毓乇賷賯 廿賱賶 賳賴丕賷丞 丕賱賯乇賳 丕賱鬲丕爻毓 毓卮乇
July 15, 2022
Perfect introduction to Joyce for people who are afraid to try his work. Also, a good alternative for A Christmas Carol during holiday season.
March 12, 2011
The volumes of literary analysis of The Dead proclaim this as the perfect short story ever written. The instructor of a short-story writing workshop I attended recently made the same proclamtion. He admonished our gathering to read this at once and to reread it at least once a year, as an example of writing at its most sublime.
Hyperbole? I don't know that it matters. It moved me to tears.
I knew nothing of the story, nor have I read Joyce beyond an aborted attempt a dozen years ago at "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." I expected to slog through complicated language and dry prose.
Instead I slipped quietly in the door of an early 20th century Dublin home, as an unseen guest at a party held by two aging aunts for their petite bourgeoisie friends and family. The scene unfolds gently, in the glow of the Epiphany and lantern light. There is dancing, drinking, feasting, a few social gaffes...It is the latter where Joyce balances on the razor's edge between social satire and devastatingly keen observation.
This seemingly innocuous setting has aching scenes of lust, love, and longing. In a few short paragraphs, Joyce shows a marriage laid bare, infected by disillusionment and disappointment; it is as honest a portrayal of modern love as any I have read. It is a moment of self-awareness and revelation of perception that we would do well to hope never happens to us. Ignorance is bliss.
Hyperbole? I don't know that it matters. It moved me to tears.
I knew nothing of the story, nor have I read Joyce beyond an aborted attempt a dozen years ago at "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." I expected to slog through complicated language and dry prose.
Instead I slipped quietly in the door of an early 20th century Dublin home, as an unseen guest at a party held by two aging aunts for their petite bourgeoisie friends and family. The scene unfolds gently, in the glow of the Epiphany and lantern light. There is dancing, drinking, feasting, a few social gaffes...It is the latter where Joyce balances on the razor's edge between social satire and devastatingly keen observation.
This seemingly innocuous setting has aching scenes of lust, love, and longing. In a few short paragraphs, Joyce shows a marriage laid bare, infected by disillusionment and disappointment; it is as honest a portrayal of modern love as any I have read. It is a moment of self-awareness and revelation of perception that we would do well to hope never happens to us. Ignorance is bliss.
February 2, 2019
螌蟿喂 魏伪喂 谓伪 蠂蔚喂 纬蟻维蠄蔚喂 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪!!! 螒尉蔚蟺苇蟻伪蟽蟿慰蟼!!! 螤蟻慰蟿蔚委谓蔚蟿伪喂 伪谓蔚蟺喂蠁蠉位伪魏蟿伪!!
November 7, 2021
賯氐丞 氐丕丿賲丞..!!
兀賲賵丕鬲 噩賷賲爻 噩賵賷爻 丕賱兀丨賷丕亍
賲丕匕丕 賷毓賳賷 兀賳 鬲賰賵賳 丨賷賸賾丕 兀賵 兀賳 鬲賰賵賳 賲賷賾鬲賸丕責
毓丕賱賲 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 賴賵 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱睾丕賲囟貙 賴賵 賳賮爻賴 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱匕賷 乇毓丕賴 賴丐賱丕亍 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 匕丕鬲 賲乇丞 賵毓丕卮賵丕 賮賷賴.
亘廿賲賰丕賳賰 賯乇丕亍丞 賯氐丞 "丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲" 亘丕賱胤乇賷賯丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲乇賷丿 丨鬲賶 鬲爻鬲賵毓亘賴丕貙 賴賳丕賰 胤乇賯 毓丿賷丿丞 賱賯乇丕亍丞 賴匕賴 丕賱賯氐丞貙 賷毓鬲賲丿 匕賱賰 毓賱賶 賲賳 賷賯乇兀 賮毓丿丿 胤乇賯 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賷賰賵賳 兀丨賷丕賳丕 亘毓丿丿 丕賱賯乇丕亍 兀賳賮爻賴賲貙 賰賲丕 兀賳 丕賱賳氐賵氐 賯賱賷賱丞 賱丕 賷賲賰賳 兀賳 鬲亘賳賷 賱賰 鬲氐賵乇 賵丕囟丨 賱兀丨丿丕孬賴丕 賵賱丕 丨鬲賶 賱賳賴丕賷鬲賴丕貙 賱丕 賮賷 賲丕 賷鬲毓賱賯 亘睾乇丕亘丞 丕賱爻乇丿 亘賱 賮賷 鬲兀賲賱 噩賲丕賱 賵毓賲賯 丕賱賳氐賵氐貙 賵丕賱丿賴卮丞 丕賱鬲賷 爻鬲卮毓乇 亘賴丕 賰賯丕乇卅 兀孬賳丕亍 賵亘毓丿 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞.
"丕賱丨賷丕丞 鬲鬲禺賱賱 丕賱賲賵鬲".
"丕賱賵噩賵賴 丕賱睾丕卅亘丞 丕賱鬲賷 賳賮鬲賯丿賴丕 賴賳丕 丕賱賱賷賱丞".
丕賱毓亘丕乇鬲丕賳 丕賱爻丕亘賯鬲丕賳 賴賲丕 賲丕 噩毓賱丕賳賷 兀毓賷丿 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賲賳 丕賱亘丿丕賷丞 賰賷 兀爻鬲賵毓亘賴丕 兀賰孬乇貙 賱賷噩乇賳賷 賮賴賲賷 賵丕爻鬲賷毓丕亘賷 廿賱賶 兀賳 丕賱賯氐丞 丨丿賷孬 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲貙 賵噩賲賷毓 丕賱賲賵噩賵丿丕鬲 賰丕賳鬲 卮亘丨賷丞.
鬲購匕賰乇賳賷 卮禺氐賷丞 "睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" 賮賷 賴匕賴 丕賱賯氐丞 亘卮禺氐賷丞 "亘丕乇鬲賱亘賷" 賱賴乇賲丕賳 賲賱冥賱.. 亘丕乇鬲賱亘賷 賷亘丿賵 賳丕卅賲丕 兀賵 賲賷鬲賸丕 賱賳 鬲毓乇賮 匕賱賰 兀亘丿賸丕貙 賰匕賱賰 "睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" 丕賱匕賷 賷鬲氐賵乇賴 亘毓囟 丕賱賳賯丕丿 亘兀賳賴 賴賵 "噩亘乇賷賱" 丕賱賲賱丕賰 丨丕乇爻 亘賵丕亘丕鬲 丕賱賲賵鬲貙 賵兀賷囟賸丕 "賱賷賱賷" 賵賴賵 丕爻賲 賮鬲丕丞 賷鬲賰乇乇貙 鬲爻鬲賯亘賱 丕賱囟賷賵賮 毓賳丿 亘丕亘 丕賱丿賷乇.. 兀賴賷 賮鬲丕丞 賮賯胤責 "賱賷賱賷" 賵鬲毓賳賷 夭賴賵乇 丕賱亘賳賮爻噩 丕賱鬲賷 賷乇丕賴丕 丕賱賳丕爻 賮賷 丕賱噩賳丕卅夭 賵鬲賵丿賷毓 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲.
賯氐丞 賲丿賴卮丞貙 賵賰鬲丕亘丞 賲乇丕噩毓丞 賱卮乇丨 兀丨丿丕孬 賴匕丕 丕賱賳賵毓 賲賳 丕賱賯氐氐 氐毓亘 噩丿賸丕.. 丕賯乇丐賵賴丕
兀賲賵丕鬲 噩賷賲爻 噩賵賷爻 丕賱兀丨賷丕亍
賲丕匕丕 賷毓賳賷 兀賳 鬲賰賵賳 丨賷賸賾丕 兀賵 兀賳 鬲賰賵賳 賲賷賾鬲賸丕責
毓丕賱賲 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 賴賵 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱睾丕賲囟貙 賴賵 賳賮爻賴 丕賱毓丕賱賲 丕賱匕賷 乇毓丕賴 賴丐賱丕亍 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲 匕丕鬲 賲乇丞 賵毓丕卮賵丕 賮賷賴.
亘廿賲賰丕賳賰 賯乇丕亍丞 賯氐丞 "丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲" 亘丕賱胤乇賷賯丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲乇賷丿 丨鬲賶 鬲爻鬲賵毓亘賴丕貙 賴賳丕賰 胤乇賯 毓丿賷丿丞 賱賯乇丕亍丞 賴匕賴 丕賱賯氐丞貙 賷毓鬲賲丿 匕賱賰 毓賱賶 賲賳 賷賯乇兀 賮毓丿丿 胤乇賯 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賷賰賵賳 兀丨賷丕賳丕 亘毓丿丿 丕賱賯乇丕亍 兀賳賮爻賴賲貙 賰賲丕 兀賳 丕賱賳氐賵氐 賯賱賷賱丞 賱丕 賷賲賰賳 兀賳 鬲亘賳賷 賱賰 鬲氐賵乇 賵丕囟丨 賱兀丨丿丕孬賴丕 賵賱丕 丨鬲賶 賱賳賴丕賷鬲賴丕貙 賱丕 賮賷 賲丕 賷鬲毓賱賯 亘睾乇丕亘丞 丕賱爻乇丿 亘賱 賮賷 鬲兀賲賱 噩賲丕賱 賵毓賲賯 丕賱賳氐賵氐貙 賵丕賱丿賴卮丞 丕賱鬲賷 爻鬲卮毓乇 亘賴丕 賰賯丕乇卅 兀孬賳丕亍 賵亘毓丿 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞.
"丕賱丨賷丕丞 鬲鬲禺賱賱 丕賱賲賵鬲".
"丕賱賵噩賵賴 丕賱睾丕卅亘丞 丕賱鬲賷 賳賮鬲賯丿賴丕 賴賳丕 丕賱賱賷賱丞".
丕賱毓亘丕乇鬲丕賳 丕賱爻丕亘賯鬲丕賳 賴賲丕 賲丕 噩毓賱丕賳賷 兀毓賷丿 丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賲賳 丕賱亘丿丕賷丞 賰賷 兀爻鬲賵毓亘賴丕 兀賰孬乇貙 賱賷噩乇賳賷 賮賴賲賷 賵丕爻鬲賷毓丕亘賷 廿賱賶 兀賳 丕賱賯氐丞 丨丿賷孬 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲貙 賵噩賲賷毓 丕賱賲賵噩賵丿丕鬲 賰丕賳鬲 卮亘丨賷丞.
鬲購匕賰乇賳賷 卮禺氐賷丞 "睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" 賮賷 賴匕賴 丕賱賯氐丞 亘卮禺氐賷丞 "亘丕乇鬲賱亘賷" 賱賴乇賲丕賳 賲賱冥賱.. 亘丕乇鬲賱亘賷 賷亘丿賵 賳丕卅賲丕 兀賵 賲賷鬲賸丕 賱賳 鬲毓乇賮 匕賱賰 兀亘丿賸丕貙 賰匕賱賰 "睾丕亘乇賷賷賱" 丕賱匕賷 賷鬲氐賵乇賴 亘毓囟 丕賱賳賯丕丿 亘兀賳賴 賴賵 "噩亘乇賷賱" 丕賱賲賱丕賰 丨丕乇爻 亘賵丕亘丕鬲 丕賱賲賵鬲貙 賵兀賷囟賸丕 "賱賷賱賷" 賵賴賵 丕爻賲 賮鬲丕丞 賷鬲賰乇乇貙 鬲爻鬲賯亘賱 丕賱囟賷賵賮 毓賳丿 亘丕亘 丕賱丿賷乇.. 兀賴賷 賮鬲丕丞 賮賯胤責 "賱賷賱賷" 賵鬲毓賳賷 夭賴賵乇 丕賱亘賳賮爻噩 丕賱鬲賷 賷乇丕賴丕 丕賱賳丕爻 賮賷 丕賱噩賳丕卅夭 賵鬲賵丿賷毓 丕賱兀賲賵丕鬲.
賯氐丞 賲丿賴卮丞貙 賵賰鬲丕亘丞 賲乇丕噩毓丞 賱卮乇丨 兀丨丿丕孬 賴匕丕 丕賱賳賵毓 賲賳 丕賱賯氐氐 氐毓亘 噩丿賸丕.. 丕賯乇丐賵賴丕
October 12, 2022
A small gem of a book
The story starts stream of conscious like in narration while the dialogue is Japanese, in the way how the hosts, especially Gabriel in his speech, bring themselves down before accepting compliments. The part scene at the start of the book also made me think of the opening of 鈥檚 War and Peace, with a host of people (and names) who did not readily materialize all that much for my minds eye, because you are just dropped into their lives, making them feel very real. I liked how hospitality, humor and humanity is attributed by the narrator to the 鈥渙ld鈥� generation, while the 鈥渘ew鈥� generation is very developed but stern, mirroring generational tensions and platitudes we see and hear now as well. The time and age in general, with on the one hand carriages on the street and on the other girls in university and electricity in hotels, is nicely captured.
The second part of the story, when the guests go home, is truely gripping and made this story powerful. Gabriel reflects on the depth of the relationship with his wife (and rapidly cycles through lust, irritation, tenderness, indifference and jealousy) in a deeply realistic manner. His wife really suprises him, and me as reader, with a very sad story about the Dead of the title, touching on the nature of love and memory.
The story starts stream of conscious like in narration while the dialogue is Japanese, in the way how the hosts, especially Gabriel in his speech, bring themselves down before accepting compliments. The part scene at the start of the book also made me think of the opening of 鈥檚 War and Peace, with a host of people (and names) who did not readily materialize all that much for my minds eye, because you are just dropped into their lives, making them feel very real. I liked how hospitality, humor and humanity is attributed by the narrator to the 鈥渙ld鈥� generation, while the 鈥渘ew鈥� generation is very developed but stern, mirroring generational tensions and platitudes we see and hear now as well. The time and age in general, with on the one hand carriages on the street and on the other girls in university and electricity in hotels, is nicely captured.
The second part of the story, when the guests go home, is truely gripping and made this story powerful. Gabriel reflects on the depth of the relationship with his wife (and rapidly cycles through lust, irritation, tenderness, indifference and jealousy) in a deeply realistic manner. His wife really suprises him, and me as reader, with a very sad story about the Dead of the title, touching on the nature of love and memory.
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