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A review by jjames007
The Dead by James Joyce
3.0
Rating : 3.5/5*
The story centres on Gabriel Conroy, a university professor, on the night of the Morkan sisters' annual dance and dinner. He was having a very uncomfortable day wherein he was backanswered by the maid Lily, teased by his wife Gretta for his dedication fer galoshes, snubbed by Miss Ivors, a fellow university instructor, by labelling him as 'West-Britton' for writing literary reviews for a conservative newspaper. Despite all this he keeps up the charade and partakes in all the traditional activites of the evening.
During the dinner-time speech, he praises the hostesses and insists, people must not linger on the past and the dead, but live and rejoice in the present with the living by quoting ...there are always in gatherings such as this sadder thoughts that will recur to our minds: thoughts of the past, of youth, of changes, of absent faces that we miss here tonight. Our path through life is strewn with many such sad memories: and were we to brood upon them always we could not find the heart to go on bravely with our work among the living. We have all of us living duties and living affections which claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavours...
As the party draws to an end he finds his wife Gretta straining to listen to Bartell D'Arcy (a guest for the evening) singing "The Lass of Aughrim". Later on back at their hotel room he he finds her withdrawen and indifferent to his advances. It is then that she admits that the song reminded her of a young man named Michael Furey, whom she had courted in her youth in Galway. She says he is no more and probably it was his insistence on coming to meet her in the winter and the rain, while already sick, that killed him.
This revelation prompts him to think about the countless dead in living people's lives, and observes that everyone he knows, himself included, will one day only be a memory thus questioning the value and quality of the life he was currently leading.
I feel this short story also points out the monotony in our lives. Just like the Morkan's party which consistes of the same deadening routines that make existence so lifeless - Gabriel taking the privilege of carving the turkey, giving a speech, Freddy Malins arrives drunk, his aunts singing and playing the piano, everyone dancing to the same memorized steps, and so on, we too are caught up with this lifeless charade...The fear of taking risks, coming out of our comfort zones dreadens us and we fail in making our life worthwhile.
Just like the anecdote mentioned in the story of his grandfather's donkey who keeps walking round and round the statue, we too are stuck in the daily monotony of life... This is where the author asks us to take some time out of our life and ponder on our mortality.
Though Furey died in his teens, his life has a purpose and meaning and he would always remain as a fond memory for Gretta. In short, according to me, story actually projects the maxim :
It Doesn’t Matter How Long Your Life Is… What Matters Is How You Spend the Time You Have!!
The story centres on Gabriel Conroy, a university professor, on the night of the Morkan sisters' annual dance and dinner. He was having a very uncomfortable day wherein he was backanswered by the maid Lily, teased by his wife Gretta for his dedication fer galoshes, snubbed by Miss Ivors, a fellow university instructor, by labelling him as 'West-Britton' for writing literary reviews for a conservative newspaper. Despite all this he keeps up the charade and partakes in all the traditional activites of the evening.
During the dinner-time speech, he praises the hostesses and insists, people must not linger on the past and the dead, but live and rejoice in the present with the living by quoting ...there are always in gatherings such as this sadder thoughts that will recur to our minds: thoughts of the past, of youth, of changes, of absent faces that we miss here tonight. Our path through life is strewn with many such sad memories: and were we to brood upon them always we could not find the heart to go on bravely with our work among the living. We have all of us living duties and living affections which claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavours...
As the party draws to an end he finds his wife Gretta straining to listen to Bartell D'Arcy (a guest for the evening) singing "The Lass of Aughrim". Later on back at their hotel room he he finds her withdrawen and indifferent to his advances. It is then that she admits that the song reminded her of a young man named Michael Furey, whom she had courted in her youth in Galway. She says he is no more and probably it was his insistence on coming to meet her in the winter and the rain, while already sick, that killed him.
This revelation prompts him to think about the countless dead in living people's lives, and observes that everyone he knows, himself included, will one day only be a memory thus questioning the value and quality of the life he was currently leading.
I feel this short story also points out the monotony in our lives. Just like the Morkan's party which consistes of the same deadening routines that make existence so lifeless - Gabriel taking the privilege of carving the turkey, giving a speech, Freddy Malins arrives drunk, his aunts singing and playing the piano, everyone dancing to the same memorized steps, and so on, we too are caught up with this lifeless charade...The fear of taking risks, coming out of our comfort zones dreadens us and we fail in making our life worthwhile.
Just like the anecdote mentioned in the story of his grandfather's donkey who keeps walking round and round the statue, we too are stuck in the daily monotony of life... This is where the author asks us to take some time out of our life and ponder on our mortality.
Though Furey died in his teens, his life has a purpose and meaning and he would always remain as a fond memory for Gretta. In short, according to me, story actually projects the maxim :
It Doesn’t Matter How Long Your Life Is… What Matters Is How You Spend the Time You Have!!