The Dubliners by James Joyce

I have not read any James Joyce since I was in college, when I spent the WHOLE SUMMER reading Ulysses. Of course, I had a life back then, with classes and dates and so forth, but still. I was determined to finish it, just so that I could say that I had read it all, because I didn't know anyone who had READ IT ALL. So I read every word on every page, and about half the time I actually knew what was going on. Or maybe only a third of the time. I found that if I just let my mind kind of enter a dream state, it all went much better and sometimes the writing could become quite hypnotizing, even if I didn't know exactly who was talking or what was happening. So I didn't read any more James Joyce after that.

Over the years, I have read here and there that The Dubliners is Joyce's most "accessible" book, meaning that normal people can read and actually enjoy it. So I decided to try Joyce again.

I was pleasantly surprised. The 15 short stories that comprise the book are very readable and very good, each one just a slice from the life of a character, during which he or she reaches a moment of self-discovery or else the reader reaches a discovery about the character which the character himself fails to realize. They are written in a very naturalistic style, with short sentences and realistic conversation. "The Dead" is the longest story and the best.

Throughout the book, we meet men who are longing for the past of Ireland and failing to meet the present of that long-troubled country, men who drink to excess to mourn their failures and to celebrate their paltry victories, long-suffering women who put up with all kinds of verbal and physical abuse, a Church that often makes the situation of the common people even worse than it already is. It is sometimes humorous, but in a very mocking way. This book makes Ireland in the early 1900s sound like the most depressing place on earth. Maybe it was; Joyce evidently thought so, because he left.

About ten years ago I worked with a girl from Dublin, and I once asked her why she left to come to America. She said, "Everyone in Dublin would like to leave." But she missed it and talked about it all the time. This is the kind of hate-love relationship that I imagine Joyce had with his country.