Dublinesos (1914)

- The Sisters ⭐⭐⭐
- The Encounter ⭐⭐⭐
- Araby ⭐⭐⭐⭐
- Eveline ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
- After the Race ⭐⭐⭐
- Two Gallants ⭐⭐⭐⭐
- The Boarding House ⭐⭐⭐⭐
- A Little Cloud ⭐⭐
- Counterparts ⭐⭐
- Clay ⭐⭐
- A Painful Case ⭐⭐⭐⭐
- Ivy Day in the Committe Room ⭐⭐⭐
- A Mother ⭐⭐⭐
- Grace ⭐⭐⭐
- The Dead ⭐⭐⭐⭐ ( )

I don't feel equal to commenting on this, but here goes:

Basically, if you are looking for a word-based photo album of vignettes of industrial-era Ireland, this is your book.

Textbook modernism. The end of the final story--the Dead--has me angsty and depressed! ( )

This is one of my all-time favorite short story collections. The stories I like best are “An Encounter,” “Araby,” “Eveline,” “A Little Cloud,” “Clay,” “A Painful Case,” “Ivy Day in the Committee Room,” and “The Dead.” I read it when I was fifteen and my mother had to explain “Clay” and “Ivy Day in the Committee Room” to me. She also asked me not to read “The Dead” because it was her favorite story and she thought I wouldn’t like it because I was too young. But I did read it and I did like it so everything turned out okay. ( )

Update: so I need to reread this. I’d listened to an audiobook while swimming and don’t think that was conducive to getting the real feel for this type of work (based a recent experience of listening to Chekhov short stories while not swimming)

In certain circles I presume that it’s blasphemous not to adore Joyce and hold his works in the highest regard. This high regard of his works is the reason I decided to read Dubliners, figuring it would be a good introduction to his work (ok, re-introduction since I read Dubliners decades ago - with no recollection of it before this re-reading; and back then had made several attempts to read Ulysses, each without success. )

This rating is really more 3.5, maybe 3.75.

I found some stories very engaging - Eveline; A Painful Case; & The Dead. The others struck me to be...unfinished? Maybe more along the lines of vignettes? I thought of them to be more like paintings - still lifes - where the artist is working on honing his technique.

(Librivox) ( )

This is my first reading of Joyce’s “Dubliners.” I know, shocking, everyone else read it in high school or collegiate undergraduate literature courses and were forced to author papers on Joyce’s themes and symbolism. I read it for pleasure and for background on a project I’m working on. It’s considered one of Joyce’s more accessible works, certainly when compared with “Ulysses” which has a reputation for everyone claiming to have read it, but no one actually does. Anyways, I did find it readable, even with it being over a hundred years old and full of references to cultural and colloquial phrases which are beyond me. Anyway, I’ll try my hand at a short analysis of this collection of fifteen short stories.

The first thing that strikes me is how pedestrian and mundane the characters and even the plots of these tales are. This is the dreary, everyday life of Dublin commoners. It’s also largely filled with horrible people – thieves, drunks, and abusers to name a few. Most of the tales either end tragically (e.g., suicide) or at best – an unresolved melancholy stalemate. As I was reading it, I wasn’t sure if Joyce was going for a realistic expose of Dublin (sort of a 107-year-old version of a modern reality show) or something else. But when you step back and look at the whole of the book, it shows a stunted Dublin filled with people going nowhere and unable to break out of their gloomy routines and lives. And knowing a little of the history of Ireland, it makes me wonder if this was a delicate cut on the impact of English colonialism and maybe even to a lesser extent the restraints of the Catholic Church. About the only positive you’ll take away from 1914 Dublin is the pride in Irish hospitality.

Still, despite the dismal subject matter, Joyce writes with beauty. His ability to rapidly create complex characters with realistic needs and desires is extraordinary. He describes everyday life, but with such a fine blend of place, dialog, and narration, it feels all too real. Character’s display little notions, quirks, and thoughts that feel authentic, like Joyce is reporting on what’s going on around him, but able to jump in everyone’s head. The last story is particularly beautifully told, about an annual dance, that spins characters and motivations and songs, food, and drink until you’re dizzy. The prose is lush and vivid, but still with the same underlying sadness and cold themes. Although I probably don’t have the proper context of 1914 Ireland and Joyce’s intentions, I was still able to appreciate this impressive classic. ( )