Joyce is brilliant. And he knows it. And he loathes it.

Forget the complexity of his prose (see Ulysses and Finnegan’s Wake for the really outlandish bits). Forget his literary stature. Forget his Ireland and his guilt and his Christ. Portrait provides the reader with a character with such depth and realism that I almost can’t stop crapping my pants thinking about it. His approach in crafting Stephen Dedalus (and, thus, himself) is profound, and Joyce would be legend by this invention alone. The best bildungsroman I know of. Read thrice.

God job, Jim.

I am three quarters of the way through this book, and I've just decided to bail out.

I have Irish Catholic heritage, so the early part of the book was mildly interesting because I could relate to the quasi-gnosticism of the priests in the boys' school.

Later on I stuck with it because I kept thinking that, eventually, there had to be some flesh-and-blood characters that I'd care about, some relationships between people (or even some realistic conversations), a tiny bit of action taking place outside of the protagonist's head...

As I was dozing on the bus today while the reader's voice droned in my headphones, I realized that I wasn't going to get any of those things.

I'm sure if I were taking a literature class and studying this book with some supporting material and guided discussion, I would appreciate it more, and maybe understand why it made the RH "best books of the 20th century" list. When it's just me, myself, and the online Cliff's Notes, though, it's really not my kind of novel.

.
من از تنها بودن یا بخاطر دیگری عقب رانده شدن یا رها کردن آنچه باید رها کنم نمی ترسم.از اشتباه کردن هم نمی ترسم حتی اگر اشتباه بزرگ باشد،اشتباهی که یک عمر طول بکشد و شاید تا ابد ادامه یابد.

I read this back in high school (and a few times since) and it blew my mind. The textual maturity grows as Stephen Daedalus grows and it is absolutely captivating. The scene where his knuckles are beaten in class (thank goodness we have moved beyond corporal punishment in schools for the most part!) was so real that my hands ached. You of course see Stephen Daedalus again in Stephen Hero as well as Ulysses.
A must read.

Sometimes reading James Joyce feels like being the dupe of an elaborate practical joke. The story is strewn with obscure references to places in Ireland (and particularly Dublin), as well with references to literature, history, and philosophy. Even with copious end-notes (which I found rather distracting), for much of the narrative, the reader feels adrift in a sea of dubious knowledge. Especially in the beginning, the book is almost a parody of a novel rather than a novel itself. The protagonist’s quest for identity, aesthetic understanding, and innovation is mirrored in the very structure of the language—a series of disjointed literary experiments that gradually coalesce into a definite style.

I find it hard to pin down what was so enjoyable about this book. Perhaps I rather enjoyed being confused. Perhaps it was the oblique, kaleidoscopic language that glistened in a million different tints—a constant swirl of text that resists a straightforward reading. Perhaps it was the story of the self-discovery of a pretentious, self-absorbed young man (a story that I particularly relate to). I’m not sure Joyce wanted you to know exactly why this novel is enjoyable. And I’m quite alright with that.

Stivene, Stivene...nisi me razočarao...hvala ti :) :*
Patnje koje preživljavah čitajući tirade propovednika ostale su u senci ostatka romana... i na kraju se sve zbilo onako kako sam i očekivala (što se moglo u startu zaključiti, budući da je Stiven Džojsov alter ego)...

Mladi čovek odrastajući i spoznajući ko je zaista, uviđa da ne pripada tu gde jeste i ne želi da se uklopi u sredinu koja ga sputava i guši.. Sasvim očekivano, odlučuje da promeni nešto u svom životu, uprkos neodobravanju porodice i prijatelja. I odlazi :)

Čitajući recenzije i ocene, vidim da je knjiga uglavnom naišla na veoma pozitivne kritike, pa neću ulaziti u neku dublju analizu - samo par rečenica o mom pogledu na ovakve sudbine - pošto sam generalno protiv uklapanja u šablone i stapanja sa okolinom (po cenu gubljenja sopstvenog identiteta), uvek, uvek ću podržati/opravdati/ohrabriti odluku za pronalaženjem samog sebe, jer upravo to i jeste smisao života. Živeti svoj a ne tuđi život.

I naravno, po ko zna koji put je izašla na videlo činjenica da je religija izmišljena da bi manipulisala čovekom i otuđila ga od njegove prirode. Uz dužno poštovanje neistomišljenicima, smatram da je crkva obična glupost. I to svakim danom sve više. Zato Stivene/Džojse, moj naklon :)

Uzun ara kaçtığım bir yazar ile nihayet tanışmış olduk. Tüm hayatta olduğu gibi aslında korkunun ne kadar insanın kendi kendine yarattığı bir canavar olduğunu bir kez daha anlamış bulunmaktayım. (Ulysses ve Finnegan's Awake'i henüz okumadığımdan bence atış serbest :))
Kitabın sonunda Murat Belge nin sonsözü gerçekten çok güsel olmuş, çevirinin de gayet başarılı ve samimi olduğunu düşünüyorum.
Aslında bir yandan yazarın otobiyografisi gibi dursa da Joyce hayatın temel meselleri üzerine nefis bir güselleme sunmuş bizlere.
Sonsözde Joyce un şiir yazamadığından bahsediliyor. Acaba onun için mi böyle "şiir gibi" bir roman yazdı diye düşünmeden edemiyorum. Ya da aslında okuduğum başka türlü bir şiirdi de ben mi anlamadım. Garip duygular içerisindeyim.
Joyce a karşı benim gibi düşünen varsa derim ki korkmayın! En azından bu kitabı için, kendinizi bırakın aldın götürsün edebiyat sizi...
Ve tabi sevgili Arturo 'ya tüm cesaretlendirmeleri, bilgilendirmeleri ve motivasyonu için çok teşekkür ederim.
Ulysses te görüşmek üzere...

«-Μου ζητάει να νηστέψω για να κοινωνήσω το Πάσχα.
- Και συ;
- Δεν πρόκειται, είπε ο Στήβεν.
- Γιατί;
- Non serviam, απάντησε.»

Δυσκολεύτηκα αρκετά για να είμαι ειλικρινής. Άκουγα πολλά για τον James Joyce. Περίμενα με αγωνία να δω γιατί έχει δημιουργηθεί αυτή η φήμη. Έτσι λοιπόν μπήκα στον μαγικό κόσμο του ξακουστού Ιρλανδού συγγραφέα.

Γράφει με βάθος, τόσο ώστε δεν κατάφερα να κερδίσω όλα όσα ένα τέτοιο κείμενο μπορεί να δώσει στον αναγνώστη. Νομίζω με μια δεύτερη ανάγνωση, θα το ευχαριστηθώ περισσότερο. Αμφιταλαντεύτηκα αρκετές φορές για την τελική βαθμολογία, υπήρξαν όμως πολλά σημεία, που έχουν να κάνουν με τις αξίες και τα πιστεύω του Joyce, τα οποία κάνουν σπουδαίο αυτό το βιβλίο.

Ταυτίστηκα με τον ήρωα αρκετές φορές. Ένας άνθρωπος, από παιδί ακόμα, αντιδραστικός, ο οποίος δείχνει να μην ανήκει ολότελα στην κοινωνία που ζει.

«-Πίστευες όταν ήσουν στο σχολείο; Στοιχηματίζω ότι πίστευες.
-Ναι, απάντησε ο Στήβεν.
- Και δεν ήσουν πιο ευτυχής τότε;»

Ένα μεγάλο δίλημμα της ανθρωπότητας ανέκαθεν: τι έχει μεγαλύτερη αξία; οι ιδεολογίες, τα πιστεύω ή η απλή ευτυχία; Ο Στήβεν ανήκει με σιγουριά στην πρώτη κατηγορία και φαίνεται να μην έχει μετανιώσει ποτέ, ακόμα κι αν τα πιθανά του λάθη τα πληρώνει σε όλη του τη ζωή.

Από τα πιο διδακτικά βιβλία που έχω διαβάσει.

I think this book is best read at a very specific time. I think there needs to be a restlessness in you, the need for difference, an awareness of yourself and your own needs that is just beginning to emerge. I think this novel is inspiring for people in that situation. Particularly those in their late teens and early twenties. It's a coming of age novel. Certainly the most accessible of any of James Joyce's novels. I don't think I would have been ready for it when I started high school, and I might have not liked it a year or two ago either. But I read it as a high school senior in AP Lit, and that was perfect. Stephen is a thoroughly unappealing character when one first approaches him, and I think it's necessary to have a sympathy with his feelings to really connect with him.

This is not to say that the writing is not good on its own, but I think to have an interest in the proceedings, Stephen's conflict really has to be your own on some level. So those graduating from college this year, those yearning to, those graduating from high school, perhaps moving to start a new job, or changing majors- any of those transitional periods- this is a good book for you.

Warning: In addition, one must have a patience for a somewhat difficult writing style.

So finally yes I did read this. And let me tell you ; here's my recommendation ;; read Joyce chronologically. Because this doesn't deserve to be called juvenalia. Because reading it after Ulysses and after The Wake it just doesn't get itself very far. It's a great little novel but it's so small. Odd enough for me I'd have to confess I liked Dubliners better. Maybe Portrait is what Professor Mary referred to as 'spade work' ; Joyce needed to clear the decks so he could get on with the real work. Of course from anyone else this would be their masterwork ; but that only shows us what a giant Joyce is.

And just anecdotally ;; you know how that Bloom guy goes on about Shakespeare? Well, that's how I go on about Joyce. There are only so many pinnacles in the history of letters , Joyce is the last highest we've seen. For all I know since Shakespeare himself. It has to do with the shape of being human, it has to do with the shape of words on the page. There's good reason to pursue all those books so possibly offhandedly referred to as 'joycean' because if there's gold to be found that's how it's going to be described.

And I just finished a (minor) Steinbeck. Reading it you get the impression he's never read Joyce. And I don't know why I'd read one whom one didn't suspect of having read Joyce. [proof of this is that Gaddis had not in fact read Joyce ; and yet....]

James Joyce is full of crap. I'd like to track down whoever invented stream-of-consciousness writing and kick him in the groin.

Read for: 12th grade AP English

“Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.”



James Joyce's language in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is so evocative. It's not just a story being told (a semi-autobiographical account in which Stephen Dedalus stands in for James Joyce in early childhood to aspiring artist in his youth) but a method at getting to the inner world of his protagonist. This stream of consciousness is something that Joyce will continue to develop in later works such as Ulysses (in which Stephen Dedalus returns as a major character). While the boyhood experiences of Stephen weren't always compelling to me, the way Joyce depicted them (through all the various sensations) is still engaging.

“His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath their cowl and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or revery, he had heard their tale before.”

“He was alone. He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and wilful and wildhearted, alone amid a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the seaharvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight.”

“Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips, as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them he felt an unknown and timid preasure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor.”