Name: Gente di Dublino
Rating: 3.671397379912664 (458 reviews)

mes Joyce

Gente di Dublino

James Joyce

Seamus Deane

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Bambang Hartono

Book came to me at the right place in the right time

The Dubliners (Penguin Student Editions)

best book i read in high school lit class. i remember the narrator experiences paralysis, which i can relate to a lot as a trauma response. i also loved the writing style. the rest i cannot remember lol. 

cherie

Dubliners

Life!! I want my brain back to read more Joyce!!

James!! I am stuck in a Dublin of some kind that you would know is even worse!! Can't get away!! Your sentences are beautiful!! Your dialogues are hillarious!! There's not a single superfluous!! 

martian1138

Life!! I want my brain back to read more Joyce!!

James!! I am stuck in a Dublin of some kind that you would know is even worse!! Can't get away!! Your sentences are beautiful!! Your dialogues are hillarious!! There's not a single superfluous!! 

Favorites : Araby & A Little Cloud

Anisah Osman Britton

- Not the easiest of reads and wish I’d started it during the holidays as it needs focus and time

- I flicked back and forth from the notes to the narrative as there’s a lot of Irish historical context which took a bit away from the flow. 

- The religious descriptions are some of the best writing I’ve read. There’s a bit on sin and hell that I can’t get out of my mind. 

A New Year's Eve gathering in Dublin is the setting of this elegant, accessible masterpiece that ends with a signature epiphany by the protagonist, who offers a perspective on the lives, dreams, and feelings of the party's guests. This beautifully packaged series of classic novellas includes the works of masterful writers. Inexpensive and collectible, they are the first single-volume publications of these classic tales, offering a closer look at this under-appreciated literary form and providing a fresh take on the world's most celebrated authors.

The Dead

“He asked himself, what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of.”

“One by one, they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, then fade and wither dismally with age.” 

Kat Albanese

“He asked himself, what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of.”

“One by one, they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, then fade and wither dismally with age.” 

Karl Ove Knausgaard

Roman Muradov

Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man

I’m more than glad that this was my first foray into James Joyce. I think anyone who grew up around institutionalised religious structures will see many parallels with Stephen Dedalus and reflect on their own journey with faith alongside Stephen. The shift in narration as Stephen gets older was a great way to keep me engaged with story and the imagery that Joyce invokes is stunning and is both complex and simple. 

I do appreciate that this particular edition has a comprehensive notes section that does outline a lot of the historical context of Ireland in the late 19th Century that situates the plot better. 

Jasmine Lawrence

I’m more than glad that this was my first foray into James Joyce. I think anyone who grew up around institutionalised religious structures will see many parallels with Stephen Dedalus and reflect on their own journey with faith alongside Stephen. The shift in narration as Stephen gets older was a great way to keep me engaged with story and the imagery that Joyce invokes is stunning and is both complex and simple. 

I do appreciate that this particular edition has a comprehensive notes section that does outline a lot of the historical context of Ireland in the late 19th Century that situates the plot better. 

jess

I drifted out of the pages and a few sentences later straight back in. They came at me from every side, how was I supposed to concentrate on one?

Oscar Kömpel

Dublineses/ Dubliners

Paula Villoria

Me encantan las descripciones, la escritura en general preciosa, me encanta cómo capta tu atención y te hace entrar tan profundamente en la historia con un solo párrafo. Y me da rabia acabar el capítulo y saber que ya no queda más de esa historia. Salir de forma tan abrupta para meterme de nuevo en otra me cuesta.

Living overseas but writing, always, about his native city, Joyce made Dublin unforgettable. The stories in Dubliners show us truants, seducers, gossips, rally-drivers, generous hostesses, corrupt politicians, failing priests, amateur theologians, struggling musicians, moony adolescents, victims of domestic brutishness, sentimental aunts and poets, patriots earnest or cynical, and people striving to get by.

charisa

dry, slice-of-life miserablism set in ireland?? nothing seemed to happen and it wasn’t the slow meditative writing i’m usually into. basically, kinda boring oops. time for some FANTASY

Colum McCann

Terence Brown

"For the centennial of its original publication, an irresistible Graphic Deluxe Edition of one of the most beloved books of the 20th century Perhaps the greatest short story collection in the English language, James Joyce's Dubliners is a vivid and unflinching portrait of "dear dirty Dublin" at the turn of the twentieth century. These fifteen stories, including such unforgettable ones as "Araby," "Grace," and "The Dead," delve into the heart of the city of Joyce's birth, capturing the cadences of Dubliners' speech and portraying with an almost brute realism their outer and inner lives. Dubliners is Joyce at his most accessible and most profound, and this edition is the definitive text, authorized by the Joyce estate and collated from all known proofs, manuscripts, and impressions to reflect the author's original wishes. "--

Wynter

My first Joyce! I think this is definitely a less intimidating place to start than let's say Ulysses. I liked the prose: its soft turns of phrase, bright imagery, rich vocabulary. I also liked the overall feeling of helplessness that ties all of the characters together. It's not a happy set of stories, but it's a pleasing kind of melancholy, where the audience can pause and think about all the hidden meanings. I had a hard time connecting to the themes, however, not being Irish or a contemporary of the author, so I believe I missed out on the subtle messages. I picked up a lot of resentment towards England, the desire to stand independent of the mighty neighbour, and the plight of working class, but I cannot say I understood it all or felt deeply moved at any point. There is a lot to think about in here, so writing a review so soon after reading the book might not be the best idea. Only time will tell if I would keep coming back to the Dubliners I briefly got to know.

Gavin

To use yourself for art you need a really interesting life, or sheer expressive skill - the ability to force anything to be interesting. Neither is easy: someone like Montaigne manages easily, but e.g. Rousseau doesn't (he just got there first, to the I Am Art game, so we have to talk about him).

Joyce's life is only mildly interesting from the outside, so it falls to his evocation. I read this to find out whether to care about him, and I actually didn't until Part III, the rightly famous spiritual arc from apatheistic teenage kicks, to the ecstatic shame of submitting to the vast closed Catholic system, and through it to passionate agnosticism, anticlerical naturalism. Joyce's is the best portrait of the Church's infinite terrorism:

  remember, my dear boys, that we have been sent into this world for one thing and for one thing alone: to do God’s holy will and to save our immortal souls. All else is worthless.



  As he crossed the square, walking homeward, the light laughter of a girl reached his burning ear. The frail, gay sound smote his heart more strongly than a trumpet blast, and, not daring to lift his eyes, he turned aside and gazed, as he walked, into the shadow of the tangled shrubs. Shame rose from his smitten heart and flooded his whole being. The image of Emma appeared before him and under her eyes the flood of shame rushed forth anew from his heart. If she knew to what his mind had subjected her or how his brute-like lust had torn and trampled upon her innocence! Was that boyish love? Was that chivalry? Was that poetry? The sordid details of his orgies stank under his very nostrils.


As a teen Stephen tries to mortify himself, to not look at women, to not eat well, to just look at the mud. But he's too bright, too worldly and too proud. I cheered at the end of Part IV, when he throws off the yoke.

The prose is port wine: lovely if sipped. It is mostly monologue but the dialogue is the best bit. He is passionate about anything, e.g. algebra - 

  The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tail, eyed and starred like a peacock's; and, when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing; the eyes opening and closing were stars being born and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its centre, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble and a cloud of fine stardust fell through space.

The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly and to spread abroad its widening tail. It was his own soul going forth to experience, unfolding itself sin by sin, spreading abroad the bale-fire of its burning stars and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched: and the cold darkness filled chaos.


The painful process of moving past family, nation, church, scholastic philosophy, to become yourself. Doing this in a country as maniacal about nation and church as eC20th Ireland was so much harder, and indeed he had to leave. He doesn't move past Art, and acquires a similarly monomanaical view of it -

  [To be an artist], a priest of the eternal imagination, transmuting the daily bread of experience into the radiant body of everliving life


but if my prose was as good as Joyce's maybe I couldn't have moved past it either. Like Nietzsche if he wasn't an edgelord.

That printers and governments treated Joyce and Lawrence the same is a laugh: Joyce has all of Lawrence's passion and none of the flat feet. Self-parody, odd humility, laughter at his own past dogmatism.

His memory - or his notetaking? - is amazing: scholars have spent lifetimes checking and relating everything in this to recorded history, and he's usually spot on about details (though he changes names). I don't think I could write anything as accurate, even in my surveillance society. 

Fully half of my edition was taken up in footnotes and bibliophilia. (It also left Joyce's typos in, which is a bit much. In fact half the footnotes were as trivial as typos, e.g. pointing out where lines are reused from his draft Stephen Hero.)

Portrait stops before the end of uni, before his odyssey, before his wife even. And much of the last section is a surprisingly flat, academic statement of Thomist aesthetics. But by then you've heard enough to love him anyway.

Perhaps the greatest short story collection in the English language, James Joyces' DUBLINERS is both a vivid and unflinching portrait of "dear, dirty Dublin" at the turn of the century, and moral history of a nation and a people whose "golden age" has passed. 

From the opening story, "The Sisters," in which a boy first encounters death, to the powerful and evocative "The Dead," which brings the collection to its haunting climax, DUBLINERS startles the reader into realizing universal human truths in moments Joyce called epiphanies. And his richly drawn characters - at once intensely Irish and utterly universal - haunt us long after the first reading. In writing that never fails to provoke and mesmerize, Joyce takes us deep into the heart of the city of his birth, capturing the cadences of Dubliners' speech in remarkably realistic portrayals of their inner lives.

This magnificent collection of fifteen stories reveals Joyce at his most accessible and perhaps most profound.

(back cover)

Jamieson

2.5

not horrible, just not for me. I'm very picky with short story collections & this was not my preferred style. I prefer longer short stories, and I enjoyed Joyce's longer prose a lot more than this collection.

Ben Jenkins

It had some good lines here and there but overall the stories were unsatisfying.

Sarah N

Novela con una fuerte carga autobiográfica, publicada perdiódicamente entre 1914 y 1915 y finalmente como libro en 1916. El protagonista, Stephen Dedalus, alter ego de Joyce, relata episodios de su vida a través de evocaciones azarosas de su pensamiento que le llevan a topar una y otra vez con el catolicismo, el pecado, el sacrificio, la penitencia y lo socialmente adecuado.

Retrato del artista adolescente

Novel with a strong dose of autobiography. It recounts different episodes of the life of Stephen Dedalus, a life crossed by religion, sin, poetry.
It is written in the form of thoughts or memories which makes the narrative a bit fragmented. It is a very entertaining book. The way it is written allows you to easily generate an intimate relationship with the protagonist. The philosophical and religious debates of the character continue to be very relevant in modern times.

Gente di Dublino

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