James Joyce had begun "Dubliners" in his early twenties. He wanted to satirize the problems of Irish culture. The book itself is an assemblage of smaller tales. They seem to involve drinking abuse, violence, money problems, and escapism.

My own professor, Dr. Richard Greene of the University of Toronto, had noted the prevalance of railing and fencing in the stories. There are, all over the place, imagery of rails and fences. Accordingly, says Greene, these imply constriction, entrapment. And, the characters are ones who want to 'escape' the difficulties of their lives. They want more money and a new place to live. In one story, "Eveline," the woman protagonist reflects on her abusive father. She wonders how things will change if she leaves to marry her boyfriend. Another story, "the encounter," has a pair of boys who retreat from school to an open field. They rely on their imagination, as the real world is to gross for them. Here, there are no physical restrictions. They have freedom. But they come across a perverted old man who reminds them again of the 'real world.' Also, the story "counterparts" deals with a father who loses his job and beats his son.

Now these stories are controversial. They are designed to shock us. They were meant to give the Irish "one good look at themselves " (Joyce). In due course, the book was denied publication for many years. The Irish resented the book.

The stories are easy to read. They have instances of humour, even. They have to do with the middle and lower classes of turn-of-the-century Ireland. We might call them 'labouring' classes. The reader will be interested to know how hard working people, who struglle, react to 'life.' Are the happy to be alive? Do they feel a sense of purpose? What is life to them? The existentialist, then, wants to know how the average working man tallies up 'life.'

I did not want to give the stories a full 5/5 because some of them were weaker than others. Some were boring, uneventful, and awkwardly narrated. Others, however, were emotional and blunt enough. Powerful relationships unfolded in only a few pages. They made me want to be there, in Ireland. After all, the tales convey a sense of culture.

The most famous of them, 'the Dead' involves a man who discovers that his wife may still be in love with a boy who died years ago. Of course, the story is of more than that, but I haven't the indecency to ruin things for you by telling anything more.

Dubliners is a story in itself. The book was rejected by various publishers because of its "political contents" and Joyce wasted time and money before finally seeing it printed. The misadventures of its publication is an excellent story in itself. But what about the booi? Granted: The Dead, Counterpart, Two Gallants are wonderful, but, being unbiased (mainly because of Ulysses) something is missing from this book. The simple, yet cunning descrpition of provincial Dublin is magnificent, but I miss Dedalus inner voice, or the remarks from the guy at SandyCove. Nonetheless, if you find Ulysses difficult, start with Dubliners, and enjoy Joyce

The Dubliners is a collection of short stories which open the windows into the lives of the citizens of Dublin in the beginning of the twentieth century. The stories are depressing as well as uplifting. It just depends on the conclusions the reader draws from the open endings of the stories. The opportunity to finish the stories myself was actually one of the features I liked most about the entire book, but especially about the last and longest story-the Dead. The Dead sums up all the concerns and issues raised time and time again throughout the Dubliners - religion, alcohol addiction, immorality, and political instability of Ireland. In my opinion, The Dead is the key to the entire book. For me, the last sentence of The Dead as well as of the entire book, " His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow was falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead," was as much of a mystery as of a hint. It really got me thinking, because there so many ways to take it. First, did Gabriel die or not? Was just Joyce describing the last moments of Gabriel's life or was he describing the first moments of Gabriel's new life? I have always been an optimist, so many might consider my opinion biased, but I personally think that the sentence marks new beginning and new life for Gabriel. Of course, I have to admit that Gabriel had a good reason to commit suicide after realizing that his beloved wife had been in love with her dead lover for all this time, but, honestly, I do not see Gabriel as a hopeless man who would simply give up his life and future. I see him more as a man who was taught a hard lesson and learned it well. I see him more as a man whose eyes were open. I see new Gabriel as man who wants to do and not only talk about doing. Then there is the description of snow falling which is another important clue/mystery the Dead gives the reader to help him to figure out for himself if the book is truly uplifting or depressing. I personally the snow is a pointer that the ending is truly an optimistic one and that somewhere there is brighter future for everybody . Why do I think that? It is the gentle way the snow is described. It covers the world and all its problem like a white blanket. It makes everything seem so pure and clean. I cannot help thinking that Joyce used snow on purpose to help the reader draw such conclusion. But, I am sure that many other readers came to just an opposite conclusion that the snow represents a deep and abiding human truth: the essential loneliness of the soul. But that is just right because the diversity of the conclusions is the beauty of the book.

The first thing I'll say is that I am so happy this book is written in coherent English for the most part (there's an abundance of Latin as well). With 'Ulysses' and 'Finnegan's Wake,' man, have you ever got to work to make sense out of what you're reading! I don't mind the work, but it's hard going and takes much time- time that I don't have right now. So, until that day when I do have time, I'll have to content myself with 'Portrait...' I don't know about most readers, but Joyce's semi-autobiographical novel reminded me of 'Of Human Bondage' in many ways. You know, guy comes from religious background; he's shy, broody, and inclined to a love of words; there are 'moments' when he begins to appreciate the aesthetic; there's talk of hell and the protagonist worrying about being a sinner if he falls away from the church...and so on. So if anyone out there found 'Portrait' difficult, try 'Of Human Bondage'....ya might find that it's your cup of tea. To abuse a word, for me, 'Portrait...' is a book of 'moments'. There are scenes that are brilliant, almost magical; and then there are scenes that border on the pretentious. Overall, it is worth reading, because these moments are worth the fodder you have to read through to get to them.

This is one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors. I love Joyce's pure stream-of-consciousness writing and the exhilaration and lyricism inherent in his gorgeous prose.

In A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, we meet Stephen Dedalus, later to become a central figure in the monumental Ulysses, for the first time and we follow him through his boarding school days, to the university, to his decision to leave Ireland for Paris. Although it is an excellent idea to read this book before embarking on the much more involved and symbolic Ulysses, those who consider A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man only a prelude to Ulysses are definitely cheating themselves. This book is a masterpiece of its own accord: vibrant, exhilarating, luminous, joyous.

Even if Joyce had never written Ulysses, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man would be enough to assure his place in history as one of the world's greatest authors. Don't miss this prize!

"A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" is an impressionistic, semi-autobiographical work in which Joyce, through the character of Stephen Dedalus, relates the events and impressions of his youth and young adulthood. The novel flows effortlessly from Stephens first memories as "baby tuckoo" to his final journal entries before embarking on a promising literary career in Paris. In the pages between, Joyce's virtuosity of prose explodes in passages with frightening intensity. Even those who dislike Joyce's confusing, sometimes-infuriating style, should be awestruck by his undubitable writing ability.

However, as anyone reading this review should already know, despite his virtuosity, Joyce is not for everyone. He is simultaneously one of the most beloved and despised writers of the twentieth century. For those of you who are unfamiliar with his work and hesitantly contemplating becoming acquainted with it, here is some food for thought: first, start with "Portrait," it is far more accessible than his subsequent works and a better introduction to them than the also-excellent "Dubliners" is. Second, do not try to judge "Portrait" by the same standards as other books. Joyce is not trying to tell an amusing story here, he is trying to relate the impressions of a young man torn between two existences: a religious or an aesthetic. If you are a meat-and-potatoes type of reader, meaning the kind of reader who prefers a "story," Joyce will not be your cup of tea. Lastly, Joyce's reputation perhaps does his works injustice. Yes, he is extremely encyclopedic and takes on many themes in his works. But perhaps too many readers get sidetracked from the aesthetic merits of his works by concentrating solely on the intellectual values. It is his prose which can be universally appreciated, whether you understand the ideas it portrays or not. His prose is his bread-and-butter. Some people pompously brag of their "getting" Joyce without actually appreciating what he does. I don't claim to be a bonafied Joyce scholar, but it is my experience that to enjoy Joyce is to appreciate "literature for literature's sake." If you enjoy literature, poetry or prose, than you should enjoy the style with which Joyce writes, that is to say, all styles. And he has seemingly mastered all styles. That is not to say that the many thematic levels in which his novels succeed are to be ignored, for their expression is not seperate from the means with which Joyce does it, but congruous with it.

To read Joyce is to revel in the limits of artistic creation and then to read on as the limits are then stretched further.

Bon Apetite!

There is not a book out there that is more frustrating than James Joyce's Ulysses...unless, of course, it is Joyce's Finnegan's Wake. The problem lies in the fact that this novel is such an amazing piece of art that the reader can feel like Joyce forgot all about him. It is almost impossible to read by oneself with it's seemingly garbled maze of words and phrases and madness. However, this is what makes it such a joy to read. Imagine that an author decided to do away with any and all rules concerning fiction and to write a book that was it's own entity, showing you what it wanted to show you, telling you what it wanted to tell you and acting like its own character. This is what Joyce has accomplished with Ulysses. I was fortunate enough to read this book in a class, four months of nothing but Ulysses, and I have to warn would be readers that I don't think I would have made it through without expert guidance. I would advise anyone wishing to tackle this literary giant to gather some book loving friends, and a guidebook or two for Ulysses, and to take it very slowly. Read a chapter a week and then meet up with you group to discuss and puzzle out what you have just read. I am willing to bet that your weekly conversations will be a greater work of art than any book out there, and I think that Joyce would have liked that, would have enjoyed sparking debates and conversation, its probably the main reason why anyone creates anything; for it to be enjoyed and shared. The story line is simple, you have two main characters, Stephen Dedalus, the brilliant but alienated loner. You have Leopold Bloom, a simple man who is as alienated as Stephen, but not for his mind, for his cultural background and meek manner. The entire book takes place over the course of one day in Dublin, and after the first three chapters the entire book simply follows Bloom around during a day when he knows that his wife is having a romantic meeting with her lover. It is hard to sum up such a giant book in a few sentences like this, but basically Bloom is trying to set his life back on track, trying to reconcile himself with his wife's betrayal, and trying to reach out to Stephen who he feels could use a loving family. Of course, you could read this book and not find any of what I am saying in there, but the beauty of Ulysses is that I would love to hear what it is that you found in this novel as much as I would love sharing what I found.

Ulysses is great fun. It takes a bit more work to read than most books, just as it takes a bit more work to play tennis than it does to play catch. You shouldn't feel compelled to put the work in, any more than you should feel compelled to learn an unusually difficult sport. But people who do put the work in and who have a good time doing it shouldn't be made to feel guilty about it either. It's a pleasure to follow the interweaving lines of the Sirens chapter, for instance, and anyone who does it will see that the chapter is alive in a way that almost nothing else is in literature. Joyce is a terrific comic writer and a terrific creator of vivid, complicated characters. But he requires the reader to put in some extra effort to enjoy how good he is, and I can't blame anyone who gives up after a few pages and refuses to go any further. On the other hand, I've noticed that people who don't like Joyce's approach seem to want to attack people who do. This is silly. Again, it's like hating people for playing basketball just because you prefer skateboarding. Both the Joyce lovers and the Joyce haters should lighten up a bit.

In reading some of the reviews other Amazon customers have written about ULYSSES, I feel compelled to respond. I am particularly concerned by the number of people who gave the book a poor review after admitting that that hadn't bothered reading past the first few pages. There's an adage in criticism that goes something like "Just because it's popular doesn't mean it's good" (AMEN to that)...a corallary could be "Just because it's difficult doesn't mean it's a 'literary hoax."

Yes, as hard as it may be to believe in some circles, ULYSSES is not a hoax. It is, however, difficult, and not, I repeat NOT for everyone. The stream-of-consciousness, the language(s), the style(s), and the fact that Joyce brought in all sorts of obscure references make it just plain difficult sometimes.

The travels of Leopold Bloom about Dublin on that fateful day of June 16, 1904, can be, for the right individual, a difficult, fun journey. What brings fans of this work, like myself, back to it again and again, is the fact that each time we read it we discover something we missed (or misunderstood) the last time (or last 10 times) around.

With a little work on the reader's part, ULYSSES can be finished. Many of us have actually made it to the end, scratched our head, and started again a few weeks later (after full recovery).

Give it a shot, and if it's not for you, don't even bother moving onto FINNEGANS WAKE...you won't make it past the third line!