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3.43 AVERAGE
3.43 AVERAGE
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.
In browsing the reviews of this book, I've noticed that it seems to be impossible to talk about James Joyce's work without sounding like you're talking with your head up your ass. That said, I have mixed feelings about Portrait.
There was much that I appreciated. Joyce is really fantastic at describing settings. There are stories from Dubliners where the setting is my most vivid memory of the story, to the point where it is the only memory of the story I actually have. I can't think of another writer I've read who does that for me. I can also appreciate how he seemed to wallow in his command of the English language in certain passages. He wrote eloquently and you can tell he was having a good time doing it. This impression might partially derive from a recording I've heard of him reading from Finnegans Wake, because he sounds so plucky and happy in it. Plus, I am only vaguely familiar with the content of Ulysses but I understand it has a very sharp sense of humor about it. I have difficulty believing that there isn't at least a trace of revelry and mirth flowing underneath all the exaggerated seriousness of youth presented in the book. (Like I said, impossible to talk about his work without jamming your head up your ass.)
On the other hand, though I never particularly struggled in making progress but I had this obnoxious and nagging feeling that I was missing out on a lot of things. I am fairly confident that I was due to my lack of knowledge about Catholic tradition and the Latin language, but I can't help think there is something else that should be grabbing my attention and holding it about this book. It may be that I have fallen out of practice for reading stream of consciousness, or a number of other things. Regardless, I intend to come back to this one in a few years with annotations and some more experience under my belt.
I've said it in the past about Moby Dick, but I think some internal conflict about highly regarded works of literature is healthy. It might even be that the ability to stir up such uncertainty in the reader is what makes books like Moby Dick and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man such enduring classics.
There was much that I appreciated. Joyce is really fantastic at describing settings. There are stories from Dubliners where the setting is my most vivid memory of the story, to the point where it is the only memory of the story I actually have. I can't think of another writer I've read who does that for me. I can also appreciate how he seemed to wallow in his command of the English language in certain passages. He wrote eloquently and you can tell he was having a good time doing it. This impression might partially derive from a recording I've heard of him reading from Finnegans Wake, because he sounds so plucky and happy in it. Plus, I am only vaguely familiar with the content of Ulysses but I understand it has a very sharp sense of humor about it. I have difficulty believing that there isn't at least a trace of revelry and mirth flowing underneath all the exaggerated seriousness of youth presented in the book. (Like I said, impossible to talk about his work without jamming your head up your ass.)
On the other hand, though I never particularly struggled in making progress but I had this obnoxious and nagging feeling that I was missing out on a lot of things. I am fairly confident that I was due to my lack of knowledge about Catholic tradition and the Latin language, but I can't help think there is something else that should be grabbing my attention and holding it about this book. It may be that I have fallen out of practice for reading stream of consciousness, or a number of other things. Regardless, I intend to come back to this one in a few years with annotations and some more experience under my belt.
I've said it in the past about Moby Dick, but I think some internal conflict about highly regarded works of literature is healthy. It might even be that the ability to stir up such uncertainty in the reader is what makes books like Moby Dick and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man such enduring classics.
reflective
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
slow-paced
I can't rate this book. It is everything all at once --it's brilliant and nonsensical. It's boring, and then interesting. It's both a slow and a fast read ( how is that possible?). It has no plot most of the book, but there is an overall plot that organizes it. By the end of the book, I felt both that I didn't understand it, and, yet, I completely empathized with the main character. So, I will just have to leave this one unrated.
parts of this were intensely boring but i couldn’t put it down for some reason - sometimes i am a young rebellious pretentious arguably catholic boy in turn of the century ireland! aren’t we all?