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3.43 AVERAGE
3.43 AVERAGE
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
slow-paced
challenging
dark
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Yeah, still a banger. Reading this again what struck me is as always how fairly conventional the narrative is for Irish semi-autobiography other than the total mastery of language and style and the controlled irony that keeps you at an appreciable distance from the precocious Stephen. If I was PM would be a nationally mandated GCSE text!!!
challenging
informative
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I guess it kind of grew on me. In the beginning I really couldn't care less and was just going through this for class, but the further along I got the more I actually started to get interested in the story.
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This is the second James Joyce I've tried and I'm afraid I'm just not a fan. I listened to an audiobook, so maybe it would have been easier to follow if I saw the written word, but in spite of some poetic language at times, it was so hard to follow, I often wasn't quite sure what was going on. After I finished, I looked up the Wikipedia summary so I could fill in some of the gaps. I didn't like the jumping around style with excrutiating detail in some places (like the sermons on hell.... Ughh) and so little information in others that it was hard to follow. Even the POV changes, so one moment you are in 3rd person close, following Steven's every thought, and then the narrative changes to omniscient, so he is just one of a group and is described in a detached manner. At times, the protagonist was going through so much mental turmoil it was very much like memoirs of those with mental illnesses. His selfishness relative to the sacrifices his family made to send him to school, where at times he barely tried, was annoying to listen to. I could never get myself to care about this character and would not have finished the book if it weren't a classic I thought I should read. Good to be done and I won't bother to pick up another Joyce. There was absolutely no enjoyment in it.
Well, I did it. If I do it again, which I never will, I wouldn’t stop to read every bloody note. Nope, just wouldn’t do it. My reading pace slowed down to the speed of molasses and then I just got so impatient that I threw the carton of molasses at the wall. And then, with heavy-head, picked up the carton of molasses from the ground, and tried, yet again, (for the millionth time!) to read at the speed of molasses. Wow, what does it say about me that I’m enjoying writing the review of a book more than reading the book itself? And I love the phrase “speed of molasses”. I think Joyce would too. Maybe.
Ok, I mean, I do remember flashes of brilliance. Joyce is obviously a genius. I love his descriptions of. Nature and his dialogue when it focuses on the cosmic but the other dialogue I think would have been lovely to have been heard read out loud, with Irish speakers, of course. And the hellfire and brimstone sermon chapter was ambitious. Stephan clearly goes through quite a journey and I think the most interesting part of the book was to see this boy’s beliefs change, from life stage to life stage. Which is, I guess, what happens as you age and change. And that is true and relatable to me. It makes me think about tracking my own journey of beliefs, how they’ve expanded and contracted as Ive aged. Ok, Joyce, you got me. That, perhaps, was worth the read.
Ok, I mean, I do remember flashes of brilliance. Joyce is obviously a genius. I love his descriptions of. Nature and his dialogue when it focuses on the cosmic but the other dialogue I think would have been lovely to have been heard read out loud, with Irish speakers, of course. And the hellfire and brimstone sermon chapter was ambitious. Stephan clearly goes through quite a journey and I think the most interesting part of the book was to see this boy’s beliefs change, from life stage to life stage. Which is, I guess, what happens as you age and change. And that is true and relatable to me. It makes me think about tracking my own journey of beliefs, how they’ve expanded and contracted as Ive aged. Ok, Joyce, you got me. That, perhaps, was worth the read.
challenging
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
The descriptions of flames of hell will stay with me forever
slow-paced
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is Joyce's semi-autobiographical book that follows the experiences of Stephen Dedalus (Joyce's alter-ego in the book) as he grapples with religious and philosophical ideas (not to mention the political struggles between England and Ireland). The prose is just narrative, though "just narrative" really sells it short. It is absolutely gorgeous. Not for everyone, it seems to have a really polarized following - people either really, really love this or really, really hate it. I loved it and thought it both profound and poetical. Joyce truly was an intelligent writer.
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.
I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it calls itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use -- silence, exile, and cunning.
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.
I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it calls itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use -- silence, exile, and cunning.