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prolixity's review against another edition
3.0
I’m of two minds about this book—
—on one hand, Joyce’s prose is wonderful. I adore his loose style that seems to connect right to your own brain, so perfectly worded at times that it’s like a thought captured whole and placed on a page, and I love his propensity to forego hyphens and just smash words together like turfcoloured and sandwhiskered and gayclad.
—on the other hand, the actual content of this book is rather dull. In theory it’s a coming-of-age novel, the quintessential Künstlerroman, but the actual maturation of the protagonist seems to happen largely “off-camera,” so to speak. Characters and scenes are confusing and crudely drawn and rarely coalesce into a sense of actual understanding.
So you see I’m in a bit of a pickle. I’m frustrated by this book because I feel like Joyce could’ve used his talents describing more interesting things and people, a more dynamic story; his artistry seems wasted in service of what amounts to little more than a boy musing about Christianity, once all the style is stripped away. Not to mention there are long parts of this novel where Joyce assumes different tones and styles to match the people he’s describing, and frankly it was incredibly tiring reading pages upon pages of a priest’s sermon or the inane chatter of schoolboys.
What’s more frustrating, though, is that there are these precious moments where everything absolutely clicks together, both the content and the style used to deliver it, and you get these exquisite scenes that are so engaging they keep you hoping the book will suddenly become great. For me, these were the first chapter when Stephen is a young child, his rapturous experience by the sea when his life’s purpose becomes clear, and this passage that perfectly encapsulates his alienation and detached bitterness as an adolescent:
Great stuff, that. But sadly there isn’t very much of it. It was far outnumbered by thoughts I would have while reading a chapter of, What does this have to do with anything? or Why are there so many characters who have such little bearing on the story? or Oh my god is the priest seriously still talking about Hell? Still, I don’t want to undermine Joyce’s talent, because he’s like Nabokov for me in that his reputation for being great to read preceded him, and yet I was still surprised by how lovely his prose was.
Lastly, I have to say I’m glad I chose this as my novel for Ireland in my goal to read a book from every country—it seems very quintessentially Irish in that there’s a good bit of discussion about and reference to history, national identity, and the role of religion in Irish society in dialogue. I was very grateful for the brief explanatory notes in my edition, which helped mostly with slang and Latin translations. Who knew the Irish call a walking stick an “ash plant”?
____________________
Global Challenge: Ireland
—on one hand, Joyce’s prose is wonderful. I adore his loose style that seems to connect right to your own brain, so perfectly worded at times that it’s like a thought captured whole and placed on a page, and I love his propensity to forego hyphens and just smash words together like turfcoloured and sandwhiskered and gayclad.
—on the other hand, the actual content of this book is rather dull. In theory it’s a coming-of-age novel, the quintessential Künstlerroman, but the actual maturation of the protagonist seems to happen largely “off-camera,” so to speak. Characters and scenes are confusing and crudely drawn and rarely coalesce into a sense of actual understanding.
So you see I’m in a bit of a pickle. I’m frustrated by this book because I feel like Joyce could’ve used his talents describing more interesting things and people, a more dynamic story; his artistry seems wasted in service of what amounts to little more than a boy musing about Christianity, once all the style is stripped away. Not to mention there are long parts of this novel where Joyce assumes different tones and styles to match the people he’s describing, and frankly it was incredibly tiring reading pages upon pages of a priest’s sermon or the inane chatter of schoolboys.
What’s more frustrating, though, is that there are these precious moments where everything absolutely clicks together, both the content and the style used to deliver it, and you get these exquisite scenes that are so engaging they keep you hoping the book will suddenly become great. For me, these were the first chapter when Stephen is a young child, his rapturous experience by the sea when his life’s purpose becomes clear, and this passage that perfectly encapsulates his alienation and detached bitterness as an adolescent:
Stephen watched the three glasses being raised from the counter as his father and his two cronies drank to the memory of their past. An abyss of fortune or of temperament sundered him from them. His mind seemed older than theirs: it shone coldly on their strifes and happiness and regrets like a moon upon a younger earth. No life or youth stirred in him as it had stirred in them. He had known neither the pleasure of companionship with others nor the bigots of rude male health nor filial piety. Nothing stirred within his soul but a cold and cruel and loveless lust. His childhood was dead or lost and with it his soul capable of simple joys, and he was drifting amid life like the barren shell of the moon.
Great stuff, that. But sadly there isn’t very much of it. It was far outnumbered by thoughts I would have while reading a chapter of, What does this have to do with anything? or Why are there so many characters who have such little bearing on the story? or Oh my god is the priest seriously still talking about Hell? Still, I don’t want to undermine Joyce’s talent, because he’s like Nabokov for me in that his reputation for being great to read preceded him, and yet I was still surprised by how lovely his prose was.
Lastly, I have to say I’m glad I chose this as my novel for Ireland in my goal to read a book from every country—it seems very quintessentially Irish in that there’s a good bit of discussion about and reference to history, national identity, and the role of religion in Irish society in dialogue. I was very grateful for the brief explanatory notes in my edition, which helped mostly with slang and Latin translations. Who knew the Irish call a walking stick an “ash plant”?
____________________
Global Challenge: Ireland
buzybreezy's review against another edition
3.0
An all modern novel, with strong identity, religion, and Irish themes. Liked it for that, didn't like too much for its too-ornate stye.
s1xer's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
bunnyprincess's review against another edition
challenging
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
bethdeitchman's review against another edition
1.0
I'll confess--I did not get very far in this book. I was supposed to read it for an English class in college. But I just could not do it.
jakepcole's review against another edition
5.0
My first full-length Joyce. I had feared approaching him, but soon discovered that the rhythmic movement of his prose more than compensated for the density of his polyglot deconstruction and reconstruction of language. Joyce finds the best way to write one's autobiography, evolving not along a narrative but through style. The book opens with a children's story told in words a child can grasp, and ends with the protagonist ironing out his artistic manifesto (then recording his thoughts in even more literal terms via a sudden jump into journal entries). Given that the portrait it paints is of an iconoclastic-to-the-point-of-potential-annoyance youth coming to terms with his talent and worldview, I'm surprised more don't mention the novel alongside Catcher in the Rye. But Joyce probes areas Salinger never even glanced into, adding layers of meaning and self-expression I've not seen in any other bildungsroman. It's a masterpiece, to be sure, but also so engaging I'm kicking myself for allowing my fear of Joyce's reputation to keep me from him for so long.
aklanger_18's review against another edition
4.0
I'm glad I finally read this. I feel like it sets up a good based for understanding Joyce before taking on more difficult books of his.
clsaavedra's review against another edition
3.0
A bit tough to read at times; but powerfully descriptive narrative of an era and place where things were changing heavily. One can also feel how much the Artist himself was changing during his coming-of-age. Admittedly, this style of writing is never easy to follow; as I was told not long ago, perhaps one must read Joyce without thinking much of whether you're understanding at all, but just going with the flow of the pages.
“Have read little and understood less” is a brilliant quote here for many reasons.
Listening to http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00nyxvr was also helpful to grasp the context in which the story is set.
“Have read little and understood less” is a brilliant quote here for many reasons.
Listening to http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00nyxvr was also helpful to grasp the context in which the story is set.
metaphoricallysam's review against another edition
challenging
dark
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0