My first encounter with Joyce was truly a remarkable experience. It was the right choice indeed. The collection of stories in "Dubliners" can be described in many ways. Some might find them beautiful, while others might consider them boring. There are also those who might even think they are brilliant. However, for me, the most apt description would be "apt".

I am certain that Dublin is richer because it has "Dubliners" to represent it. From the very first story, "The Sisters", to the last one, "The Dead", each story is perfectly appropriate and suitable for the occasion it describes. Not a single word is out of place, and no character does or says anything that seems alarming.

There is a wealth of praise and criticism available for this collection, with many people carefully dissecting it down to a word-by-word level. Lots of these pieces mention the four-way split in overarching themes for these stories: childhood, adolescence, maturity, and public life. Through these four aspects, one can dive into Dublin and witness the interaction of trials and tribulations across various ages. Class, caste, gender, and societal issues are all apparent, yet they do not overshadow the main point of any story.

With "Dubliners", I got a little bit of everything. Some stories were interesting to observe from a third-party perspective. For example, in "An Encounter", two boys skip school for a day and encounter a strange and shady character. This older gentleman has a weird obsession with "beating" little boys, which really creeped me out, just like the main character of the story.

On the other hand, some of the tales were rather boring. "Ivy Day in the Committee Room", which is about a group of people canvassing in preparation for the mayoral elections, had many elements related to Irish nationalism and independence. I'm sure it would have held much more significance for someone for whom these issues are a matter of pride and blood.

However, where this collection truly shines is when it conveys the pathos of everyday life. This is a phenomenon that is similar across nations, time, and class structures. "Counterparts", which focuses on the problem of alcoholism, does much more than just present stereotypes about the Irish. It characterizes the ailment in a person, Farrington, who is not simply going through life aimlessly. He is trying, really trying, and you find yourself caring about his life, holding a moment of silence for his troubles, and accepting his massive flaws as a human.

"A Painful Case" shows the depth of loneliness and the abyss that becomes a leech on certain people's personalities as they become increasingly unable to break free from the narcissism surrounding solitude and establish a genuine human connection. And finally, it's impossible to read "Dubliners" without commenting on "The Dead". It is the climax of the collection, a story that highlights the relativity of all our lesser or greater concerns in relation to mortality. If you were to read only one story from this book, let it be this one.

With this one book, I have learned more about Dublin and the Irish than I ever thought possible. Any city would be fortunate to have such a candid encyclopedia dedicated to it.

I must confess that I dreaded a little to start reading something of James Joyce. However, I think I made the right choice to begin with 'Dubliners'. I truly appreciated the stories, although they are not always easy to understand.

For example, the last story commences with the festivities for Christmas. At the end of the party, the woman of the main character makes her introduction. She descends from the staircase, much like how a ghost appears in many ghost stories. One wonders if she is a ghost or just an image that Gabriel perceives. From then on, it becomes a story about the couple and the bond between them. Joyce goes to great lengths to emphasize death. Is the woman then dead as we initially thought? Also, Gabriel is fixated on death.

More precisely, the death of his wife's former boyfriends. In the end, they are in bed, and he asks himself:

"One by one they were all becoming shapes. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age. He thought of how she who lay beside him had locked in her heart for so many years that image of her lover's eyes when he had told her that he did not wish to live."

There is a great deal of passion in this tale, with joy at the beginning and jealousy and death at the end.

The stories also conclude with this story and with death. Even in the first story, we witness death as a priest lies on his deathbed. A young boy, who was his friend, cannot accept that he is dead. Nevertheless, he is confronted with the truth and learns about death.

You could say that the stories form a cycle: they begin and end with death. Moreover, in the other stories, we encounter a whole variety of different people: how they live, what they do, and what they say. Most of the people are poor and/or from the working class. So, there are no luxuries for them. Their life is basic, and yet, they mostly enjoy it. It provides an important snapshot of life in Dublin around 1900.

The worst part is that I'm aware I've read this before. Some of the stories I might have read more than once. So, why is it that so few of them have remained in my memory?

There are other stories I've read in my life that I could almost recite to you, and bits of poetry I could literally recite. In fact, one of my less amusing party tricks is to do just that with endless passages of The Waste Land. One of the less appealing consequences of overindulging in alcohol…

I think my main issue with these stories is that many of the characters seem like they were hired from central casting. The violent father who beats his son after losing an arm wrestle, the not-very-attractive woman in love with someone else's husband, or the dirty old man first masturbating over young boys and then looking for an excuse to spank one of them.

(I'm assuming the old man masturbating isn't just my dirty mind –

"I say! Look what he's doing!"

As I neither answered nor raised my eyes Mahony exclaimed
again:

"I say... He's a queer old josser!"

This time around, the two stories I liked the most were A Painful Case and The Dead.

In many of the stories in this collection, it's possible to say that it's impossible to truly know what's going on in someone else's mind. In A Painful Case, one of the things that becomes clear is how difficult it is to even know what's really going on in our own mind. Repression, self-justification, and guilt blend to leave the central character of this story in a mess. The central character's denial is both evident in this story and filled with bitter irony. I found this story to be exactly what its title promised – painful.

The Dead is likewise painful and also a story that requires the reader to bring their understanding of human emotions and repressions to the tale. If I'm likely to have missed the point of any of the stories here, I think it might well be this one. There's a strange and almost sexual play going on between the central character, Gabriel, and Miss Ivors. At least, that's what I took her role to be in this story. Much of the beginning of the story is taken up with Gabriel and Miss Ivors sparring with each other. Gabriel generally comes out of these exchanges having been defeated. He seems truly unaware of how he's being manipulated by Miss Ivors.

But then she's gone, and she leaves before what, until this point in the story, we've been led to believe is the climax of the story. Except this isn't the climax we expected. The sexual jealousy that must be at the core of this story isn't between the parties we initially thought it would be.

If there is no god, if there is only human psychology, then omniscient narration (where the author can see all and understand all in the minds of all the characters) is also unacceptable. The problem is that viewing a story from the perspective of a single character inevitably (in the best of fiction) gives only a partial view and sometimes not the truest view of what's happening in the story. At the end of this story, I wasn't sure if I should feel sorrier for Gabriel, or for Gretta, or for the young man who dies out of love for her, or for Ireland. And perhaps that's the point of life – that we're left uncertain who to feel sorry for and our sorrow depends only on where we choose to place emphasis on the narrative. And would this have been a different story if told through Gretta's eyes? Just how safe should Gabriel feel knowing Gretta's young love is dead? Poor bastard, I say, that he doesn't seem to realize he'll never be able to compete in what is an infinitely unfair game. A game he lost before he even started to play.

And that is as good a definition of love as I can think of.

Apparently, this story was made into a film. God knows how this story could have been made into a film, and I'm glad I'll never see it. I guess that at least there would have been plenty of singing – and that can't have been a bad thing.

There was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed, you had to go away. You could do nothing in Dublin. The stories in Dubliners begin with death and end with it too. And in between, there is a life. The first truancy, the first shy amorous sighs, and all the shades of greyness, the whole stretch of the ordinary and uneventful reality. People are caught up in the daily routine, and life passes them by.

The workers, petty crooks, freeloaders, seamstresses, scullery maids, servants, scriveners, salesmen, union activists - the entire cross-section of the Irish middle and lower-middle class. Some of them long for money, some for other places, some for love, while others for a different time. And the more they yearn, the greater their disillusionment and discontent. They are outcasts from life's feast.

The boy in Araby, in love with his friend's sister, wants to visit a charity bazaar and buy something for the girl, only to find the bazaar closed. The hero of Counterparts, having pawned his watch, only wants to drink himself silly but ends up with empty pockets and not even feeling drunk. Chandler, the hero of A Little Cloud, eagerly awaits his old friend, only to find him vulgar and patronizing. These people are unfulfilled, for whom intemperance is as inevitable as climate change. They take out all their failures, pathetic fates, and frustrations on children and those weaker than themselves. They feel that if they want to achieve anything in life, they have to leave this town behind, that there is no real life in Dublin.

And so Joyce did. But no matter how much he left Dublin behind, in the end, he took this city with him forever. He loved and hated it, becoming the bard of Dublin and its inhabitants, a great admirer yet a stern critic at the same time. He had the same feelings for his homeland, often called Errorland in his works.

The main theme of Dubliners that ties all the stories together is the breakdown of all values, embodied in drunkenness, decadent debauchery, the obscurantism of the clergy, hypocrisy, the intellectual primitivism of the bourgeoisie, and finally, the paralysis of the Irish political scene after the death of Parnell.

Joyce, the chronicler of Dublin, alternately realistic and nostalgic, depicts a city of lost hopes and missed chances, ending this collection with the absolutely brilliant story The Dead. In it, Gabriel expects some pleasant moments with his wife, while she is longing for her dead lover, and finally, the falling snow reconciles everything, covering both the living and the dead.

Dubliners is a remarkable book that simply chronicles life. Joyce had penned most of these stories by the tender age of twenty-three, yet he did so with the understanding and forbearance of someone much more mature. He often saw himself as sitting in judgment on his fellow Dubliners, whom he once described to a friend as the most hopeless, useless, and inconsistent race of charlatans he had ever encountered. However, I'm sure he didn't truly mean it. What endows the stories with their tremendous power is precisely their refusal to pass judgments.

The men and women depicted in this collection are mostly a shabby lot: drunkards, wife-beaters, narcissists, and hypocrites. But Joyce is meticulous in showing the forces that have molded them into who they are, the exigencies that constrict them, and the disillusionments that have sapped their will to act differently from others. He believed that by presenting us with ourselves, he could assist us in understanding each other better, forgiving each other more frequently, and breaking free from our established patterns and commence to change. He was convinced that redemption was something we could attain for ourselves.

By taking in the aspirations of the people in the city, we gain an insight into what they desire and what they envision for their offspring. Overall, on the surface, it may seem like a deceptively easy book to read. But upon deeper reflection, it becomes something that not only offers plenty of enjoyable reading but also provides a fascinating experience if one truly wishes to analyze the finer details in each tale. They are presented here in the correct order as we progress through the stages of life, and this is truly fulfilling.

'The Dead' is one of the finest short stories I have ever read, and it is saved until the very last. Some other highlights for me were 'Eveline', 'Two Gallants', 'A Little Cloud', and 'A Mother'. The reason for not awarding five stars (even though 'The Dead' is easily worthy of that on its own) is simply due to the fact that some stories were better than others.

Another book from my project, which has been quite successful until now, is to read more classics.

When I was in college and university, I was completely focused on contemporary literature, such as Marquez, Reverte, and Murakami. As a result, I missed many of the "must-read" authors. Now, I am attempting to make up for it.

I selected the Dubliners because I knew I would never have the will and patience to complete Ulysses. I must admit that although I understand the value of the volume and its structure, I did not enjoy it. It bored me tremendously. I fell asleep numerous times while reading, and it was a struggle to follow the stories. Some of the stories were truly excellent, but the majority were just dull. I also read a couple of analyses of the stories, which were far more interesting than the stories themselves.

Perhaps I need to approach these classics with a different mindset or find a more engaging way to read them. Nevertheless, I am determined to continue my exploration of classic literature and expand my literary horizons.

This is a remarkable collection of short stories, or perhaps it can be seen as one single long story titled “A Portrait of the City as an Old and Stultifying Enclave.” It presents a vivid and kaleidoscopic vision of Dublin in the early 1900s. The city is depicted as being enclosed within a gray cylinder, which is periodically turned, revealing new scenes for the contemplation of a single (male) eye. The elements within this vision are rich and diverse. There are themes of youth and adulthood, money matters, trapping marriages and love, ill-conceived duties, and the presence of Mary. Temptations for youth, the ghost of England, the public house, chattered dreams, Jesuits, alcohol, nationalism, unfeminine women, dreams of change, school ploys, Death, Parnell, liberating escape, and the topographical anchorage of the streets of Dublin all play a part. Each turn of the cylinder reveals Dublin again, with its narrow spaces, sombre and dreary atmosphere, faded appearance, routine, and bleak prospects. However, the drabness of these elements is transformed by a play of incantation. The desolation is perplexingly denatured into elegance, and the absence of sentimentality blooms because of its genuine rendering. There is a magic wand in the form of a pen of wizardry that, through the careful choice and writing of words, encapsulates the dreariness and creates tales that captivate and enchant us. Additionally, there may be an extra light in this kaleidoscope that makes these sorry elements shine through the inner reflecting mirrors, perhaps the humour of a sparkling and luminous mind.

(*)

I absolutely adored the lyrical writing in this piece.

It had a quality that made it feel extremely vulnerable, as if the author was laying their heart and soul bare for all to see.

Yet, simultaneously, there was a remarkable power within those words.

The vulnerability added a depth and authenticity that drew me in and made me truly connect with the emotions being expressed.

It was as if the author was able to turn their vulnerability into a strength, using it to create a piece of writing that was both moving and impactful.

The lyrical style enhanced this effect, with its beautiful cadence and flowing language.

It was a joy to read and left me with a sense of wonder and admiration for the author's talent.

I can't wait to see what else they have in store.

Dnfable Collection.

This is a collection of short stories by the renowned James Joyce.

Oh boy, this collection really left a bad taste in my mouth! The author is seriously depressing. Every now and then, when something good seems to be building up, he ruins it with a dismal ending. The characters are unremarkable, the plots are mundane, and the storytelling is outstandingly boring. Nearly all of them are utterly forgettable and can be skimmed through easily. I've definitely read worse, but not by much. This should have been a dnf (did not finish), but being the stubborn idiot that I am, I persevered.

When it comes to books, it's always best to go for the best, consider the good, and just ignore the meh.

\\n  The Good\\n:
★★★☆☆ “A Painful Case.”
★★★☆☆ “The Dead.” [2.5]

\\n  The Meh\\n:
★★☆☆☆ “Araby.”
★★☆☆☆ “The Boarding House.”
★★☆☆☆ “Eveline.”
★☆☆☆☆ “A Mother.” [1.5]
★☆☆☆☆ “Two Gallants.” [1.5]
★☆☆☆☆ “Clay.”
★☆☆☆☆ “A Little Cloud.”
★☆☆☆☆ “After the Race.”
★☆☆☆☆ “An Encounter.”
★☆☆☆☆ “The Sisters.”
☆☆☆☆☆ “Counterparts.” [0.5]
☆☆☆☆☆ “Grace.”
☆☆☆☆☆ “Ivy Day in the Committee Room.”

It's in the public domain, so you can find it HERE.

-----------------------------------------------
\\n  PERSONAL NOTE\\n: Please note that my review is not a personal attack on Dublin or Ireland. I would have felt exactly the same way if this book was written about any city, or even my hometown Buenos Aires, which I also gave a 1-star rating.
[1914] [207p] [Collection] [Not Recommendable]
-----------------------------------------------

★★★☆☆ The Dead. [2.5]
★★☆☆☆ Araby.
★★☆☆☆ Eveline.
★☆☆☆☆ Dubliners.

-----------------------------------------------

Colección Dnfeable.

Esta es una colección de cuentos cortos del renombrado James Joyce.

¡Vaya que esta colección huele mal! Este tipo es seriamente depresivo. Cada vez que algo bueno parece estar se construyendo, él lo destruye con un final abismal. Los personajes son miserables, las tramas son mundanas y la narración es increíblemente aburrida. Casi todos ellos son terriblemente olvidables y se pueden saltar fácilmente. Definitivamente he leído peor, pero no mucho. Esto debería haber sido dnf, pero siendo el idiota testarudo que soy, lo terminé.

Cuando se trata de libros, siempre es mejor ir por lo mejor, considerar lo bueno y simplemente ignorar lo meh.

\\n  Lo Bueno\\n:
★★★☆☆ “Un Triste Caso.”
★★★☆☆ “Los Muertos.” [2.5]

\\n  Lo Meh\\n:
★★☆☆☆ “Arabia.”
★★☆☆☆ “La Casa de Huéspedes.”
★★☆☆☆ “Eveline.” [1.5]
★☆☆☆☆ “Una Madre.” [1.5]
★☆☆☆☆ “Dos Galanes.” [1.5]
★☆☆☆☆ “Polvo y Ceniza.”
★☆☆☆☆ “Una Nubecilla.”
★☆☆☆☆ “Después de la Carrera.”
★☆☆☆☆ “Un Encuentro.”
★☆☆☆☆ “Las Hermanas.”
☆☆☆☆☆ “Duplicados.” [0.5]
☆☆☆☆☆ “A Mayor Gracia de Dios.”
☆☆☆☆☆ “Efemérides en el comité.”

Es dominio público, así que lo pueden encontrar ACA.

-----------------------------------------------
\\n  NOTA PERSONAL\\n: Por favor tenga en cuenta que mi reseña no es un ataque personal a Dublín o Irlanda. Habría sentido exactamente lo mismo si este libro hubiera sido escrito sobre cualquier ciudad, o incluso de mi natal Buenos Aires, que por cierto también califiqué con 1 estrella.
[1914] [207p] [Colección] [No Recomendable]
-----------------------------------------------

Finally, I delved into some Joyce and truly enjoyed it.

There are 15 short stories that vividly paint a picture of Dublin and its diverse characters. Since I am half Irish, with my mother hailing from Tipperary, I felt a certain affinity towards it. Joyce has a remarkable talent for creating rich and complex characters.

Throughout the stories, there is a pervading sense of sadness and loneliness. Currently, as I am finishing Sartre's 'Intimacy', it was quite interesting to notice some similarities in the feelings expressed within the stories.

'The Dead' here, for some reason, reminded me of Sartre's 'The Wall'. Perhaps it was just the endings that seemed to come out of the blue, catching the reader off guard.

I still have Proust to start, but I think a lighter read might be more appealing at this moment.

Maybe something that can offer a bit of respite from the profound and sometimes heavy themes explored in Joyce and Sartre.

Nevertheless, I look forward to seeing what Proust has in store for me.

I find Dubliners to be a perfect example of the complex love-hate relationship that James Joyce had with his native city.

On the one hand, there is his choice of (mostly) mean and depressing subject matter, which seems to paint a rather bleak picture of Dublin life. However, on the other hand, the writing itself is truly pristine and done with loving care. The details and the way Joyce crafts his stories are simply remarkable.

In the end, at least for me, love wins out. Despite the darkness and the hardships depicted in the book, there is also a certain beauty and a sense of authenticity that makes it all worthwhile.

As anyone who's read Dubliners knows, \\"The Dead\\" is a masterpiece. It is a story that is both deeply moving and thought-provoking.

Last year, the Irish Repertory Theatre did a theatrical production of \\"The Dead\\" at the American Irish Historical Society in Manhattan. The production included a sumptuous dinner served for (and by some of) the actors and the audience. It sounds like it was an amazing event. Performances were sold out by the time I read about it, but I can at least imagine what the production and the dinner party must have been like.

Here's a review - https://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/08/th...

There were obvious unresolved problems in transforming the final scene into theatre, but I would have liked to have seen that production anyway - and to have eaten that meal - just reading about it in the book and in the review made my mouth water.

Some of my soundtrack and intermission music while reading:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRBpY...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xtxc8...

Laura's review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... made me want to add one more to my soundtrack: Dick Gaughan's version of Patrick Kavanagh's poem \\"Raglan Road\\"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29Nlk...

James Joyce once said, "If Dublin suddenly disappeared from the Earth it could be reconstructed out of my book Ulysses." I have never been to Dublin, so I have no idea what it's like today. However, through Joyce's writings, I have a sense of what it was like in the early 20th century.

It's not so much that he describes the physical city, but his descriptions of its establishments, its social and political atmosphere, and especially its people, are so detailed and complete that the physical picture just "pops up", like in one of those children's pop-up books. This is the case in Ulysses and it is certainly true in this book, Dubliners.

Dubliners, this collection of 15 short stories, was published in 1914, two years before A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and eight years before Ulysses. These stories lay the groundwork for his later novels, serving as a primer, if you will. I think it's good advice to anyone just starting on James Joyce works to start with Dubliners.

Like all short story collections, some are better than others, but they are all good, all consistent, and they never stray from Joyce's verbal painting of his beloved Dublin. Each story offers a unique perspective on the lives and experiences of the people in Dublin,展现出 a vivid and complex portrait of the city and its inhabitants.

Whether it's the struggles of the working class, the disillusionment of the middle class, or the hopes and dreams of the youth, Joyce's writing captures the essence of Dublin life in a way that is both poignant and profound.