i'm rereading dubliners for next week's class. after having read carver, i read joyce differently from the way i first approached him as an undergraduate. his brevity and aural sensitivity are thrilling. i still love how the stories circle around and through each other; the intricate patterning participating in and protesting against the pervasive paralysis. this is one of my favourite paragraphs:
"Little Chandler quickened his pace. For the first time in his life he felt himself superior to the people he passed. For the first time his soul revolted against the dull inelegance of Capel Street. There was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed you had to go away. You could do nothing in Dublin. As he crossed Grattan Bridge he looked down the river towards the lower quays and pitied the poor stunted houses. They seemed to him a band of tramps, huddled together along the river-banks, their old coats covered with dust and soot, stupefied by the panorama of sunset and waiting for the first chill of night to bid them arise, shake themselves and begone. He wondered whether he could write a poem to express his idea. Perhaps Gallaher might be able to get it into some London paper for him. Could he write something original? He was not sure what idea he wished to express, but the thought that a poetic moment had touched him took life within him like an infant hope. He stepped onwards bravely."
-from 'A Little Cloud'.
