wubba-lubba-dubliners
Dubliners was Joyce’s first book. …besides Chamber Music, which was poetry. I’d say Dubliners was his first novel but it was a collection of short stories. So it wasn’t his first novel, nor was it his first book. It wasn’t even the book that he wrote first, as first he wrote Stephen Hero before throwing it in a fire and rewriting it later as A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Dubliners is traditionally accepted as his “first one,” whatever you want to call it. Because Joyce’s poetry doesn’t count, and neither does his stageplay. Traditional criticism overlooks those. I think the poetry is delightful, and Exiles is a heady mind-game of a play. It’s tradition to just focus on Dubliners and the three “novels” because they’re all staggering masterpieces. Like, unequivocably so. Even as someone who likes the other stuff, I can’t deny how his capital-b Books overshadow them for good reason.
Anyway. Dubliners. Written by 1905, published in 1914, the publication history is a long story and spawned a scathing satirical poem called “Gas from a Burner.” I’m not here to talk about that either. Dubliners was written at a time of rising Irish nationalism, where folks were antsy for independence from the British Empire, and so their poets were antsy for national glory. They wanted the great Irish artist to rise up and represent their country in shining flattering terms.
Joyce absolutely wanted to write books representing his home country. But he absolutely did not want to lie about it. He empathized with the nationalists as his fellow countrymen, but he saw no nobility in the Great Irish Novel being silver-tongued. Instead, he saw it, the country needed a looking-glass, and the world needed to accept his people as they were. This would be a trend in all his books.
And don’t let the looming shadow of Ulysses and the Wake scare you off; Dubliners is Joyce’s most accessible work, written in the plainest English you could ask for, with clear narratives and rich characters. It is also, y'know, short stories, so it’s easy to recommend.
At the same time, while you can easily eat these 15 stories in single sittings, as tasty snacks… uh, don’t expect to feel sunshiney and uplifted by the end. These are stories of people trapped in social paralysis, in the capital city of a close British colony. No fantasy, no ghosts, no state secrets, no hidden messages, but a lot of careful symbolism of the realistic variety.
It is a sobering read. Can be rather refreshing, frankly.
Let me talk, loosely, about the stories. (Loosely because I haven’t reread all of them that recently.)
There are 15, and they are arranged in a specific order, though this is not specified in the text itself. We start with stories about childhood and progress in age until we reach stories about full-grown adults in public life.
CHILDHOOD:
1: “The Sisters”
A boy learns of the death of an old priest he had befriended. It is not simply a sad moment, but it is not simply a relief either.
2: “An Encounter”
A boy skips school with his friend, hoping to go on a Wild West Adventure, only to meet a creepy old man in a park.
3: “Araby”
A boy seeks to impress a girl by getting her a present from an enchanting bazaar. It does not meet his expectations.
ADOLESCENCE:
4: “Eveline”
Eveline is overwhelmed by her abusive father and seeks to elope with her boyfriend to Argentina. But her promise to her dying mother leaves her paralyzed in the face of leaving her familiar life behind.
5: “After the Race”
Jimmy Doyle feels proud as he represents his home in an international car race. His pride falls flat as he loses money in a wealthy card game.
6: “Two Gallants”
Lenehan wants a little more from his life of drinking and poverty. He meets up with Corley, who plans to scam a housemaid.
(Lenehan shows up again in Ulysses.)
7: “The Boarding House”
Polly Mooney’s mother runs a boarding house. When a nervous guest expresses interest in Polly, her mother takes calculated advantage of the situation to commit him to marriage.
(That guest, Bob Doran, shows up again in Ulysses.)
MATURITY:
8: “A Little Cloud”
Little Chandler wants more from his life, he wants to quit his desk job and become a poet. When his old friend Ignatius Gallaher comes home from glitzy London where he’s a successful journalist, Chandler sees the difference in their lives, then comes home mad at his wife and child.
9: “Counterparts”
Farrington is abused by his boss. Farrington goes home and beats his son.
10: “Clay”
Maria… lives a lonely life, socially consigned a common one.
11: “A Painful Case”
Mr. Duffy lives a predictable life, just as he likes it. He meets a lonely married woman, Mrs. Sinico, who wants more from him than he can accept, so they stop seeing each other. A few years later, he reads in the paper that she has died, and he wonders if this might be his fault.
(Mrs. Sinico is mentioned in Ulysses.)
PUBLIC LIFE:
12: “Ivy Day in the Committee Room”
Political canvassers chill together on election day, their dialogue marked with infighting, alcohol, and nostalgia for the bygone days of Charles Parnell.
13: “A Mother”
Mr. Holohan wants to stage a tour of shows of traditional Irish celebration. Mrs. Kearney’s daughter is a talented pianist and Irish speaker, so she’s booked. Nobody turns up to the shows, so Mr. Holohan must cancel the tour. Mrs. Kearney tries to insist he must still pay up.
(Holohan shows up in Ulysses.)
14: “Grace”
Tom Kernan, once a successful businessman, has turned to drink in tragic form. His friends try to build him back up, bringing him to a religious retreat. The retreat talks of God in capitalist terms, and it rings hollow.
(Tom Kernan and his friends show up in Ulysses.)
15: “The Dead”
Gabriel Conroy and his wife Gretta turn up at an annual fancy Christmas party. Gabriel has mild embarrassment through the night as his national leanings are called into question, and his wife seems to be growing distant from him. The truth is, Gretta has been thinking of a boy she once loved, who died for her long ago. Gabriel gets some perspective on his life and the book ends somberly.
(Gabriel Conroy is mentioned in Ulysses.)
…..yeah, they’re not cheerful reads. (they make my heart cry.) But they’re also not meant to depress you; they are beautiful and filled with profound illustrations of a society. The stories are narrow portraits of moments in these characters’ lives, often moments of the characters themselves realizing their own paralysis, so the possibility of change is still open! And the writing… god, I can’t gush enough about the sheer quality of the compositions. You have to see it to believe it.
And you can see it. Joyce’s works are in the public domain. :3 Here’s Dubliners in full.
Maybe I can put the text on this site too. I dunno. Figuring it all out.