What do you think?
Rate this book
A Little Cloud
One of Ireland’s most famous writers was James Joyce, a novelist and poet who’s best known for his avant garde classic Ulysses, which was inspired by The Odyssey but written in a completely modern, stream of conscience way. Joyce was also acclaimed for his poetry, journalism, and novels like A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
This edition of Joyce’s A Little Cloud includes a Table of Contents.
Collection
First published January 1, 1914
8 people are currently reading
290 people want to read
About the author
James Joyce
1,713 books9,498 followersJames Joyce was an Irish novelist, poet, and a pivotal figure in 20th-century modernist literature, renowned for his highly experimental approach to language and narrative structure, particularly his pioneering mastery and popularization of the stream-of-consciousness technique. Born into a middle-class Catholic family in the Rathgar suburb of Dublin in 1882, Joyce spent the majority of his adult life in self-imposed exile across continental Europe—living in Trieste, Zurich, and Paris—yet his entire, meticulous body of work remained obsessively and comprehensively focused on the minutiae of his native city, making Dublin both the meticulously detailed setting and a central, inescapable character in his literary universe. His work is consistently characterized by its technical complexity, rich literary allusion, intricate symbolism, and an unflinching examination of the spectrum of human consciousness. Joyce began his published career with Dubliners (1914), a collection of fifteen short stories offering a naturalistic, often stark, depiction of middle-class Irish life and the moral and spiritual paralysis he observed in its inhabitants, concluding each story with a moment of crucial, sudden self-understanding he termed an "epiphany." This collection was followed by the highly autobiographical novel A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916), a Bildungsroman that meticulously chronicled the intellectual and artistic awakening of its protagonist, Stephen Dedalus, who would become Joyce's recurring alter ego and intellectual stand-in throughout his major works.
His magnum opus, Ulysses (1922), is universally regarded as a landmark work of fiction that fundamentally revolutionized the novel form. It compressed the events of a single, ordinary day—June 16, 1904, a date now globally celebrated by literary enthusiasts as "Bloomsday"—into a sprawling, epic narrative that structurally and symbolically paralleled Homer's Odyssey, using a dazzling array of distinct styles and linguistic invention across its eighteen episodes to explore the lives of Leopold Bloom, his wife Molly Bloom, and Stephen Dedalus in hyper-minute detail. The novel's explicit content and innovative, challenging structure led to its initial banning for obscenity in the United States and the United Kingdom, turning Joyce into a cause célèbre for artistic freedom and the boundaries of literary expression. His final, most challenging work, Finnegans Wake (1939), pushed the boundaries of language and conventional narrative even further, employing a dense, dream-like prose filled with multilingual puns, invented portmanteau words, and layered allusions that continues to divide and challenge readers and scholars to this day. A dedicated polyglot who reportedly learned several languages, including Norwegian simply to read Ibsen in the original, Joyce approached the English language not as a fixed entity with rigid rules, but as a malleable medium capable of infinite reinvention and expression. His personal life was marked by an unwavering dedication to his literary craft, a complex, devoted relationship with his wife Nora Barnacle, and chronic, debilitating eye problems that necessitated numerous painful surgeries throughout his life, sometimes forcing him to write with crayons on large white paper. Despite these severe physical ailments and financial struggles, his singular literary vision remained sharp, focused, and profoundly revolutionary. Joyce passed away in Zurich, Switzerland, in 1941, shortly after undergoing one of his many eye operations. Today, he is widely regarded as perhaps the most significant and challenging writer of the 20th century. His immense, complex legacy is robustly maintained by global academic study and institutions such as the James Joyce Centre in Dublin, which ensures his complex, demanding, and utterly brilliant work endures, inviting new generations of readers to explore the very essence of what it means to be hum
His magnum opus, Ulysses (1922), is universally regarded as a landmark work of fiction that fundamentally revolutionized the novel form. It compressed the events of a single, ordinary day—June 16, 1904, a date now globally celebrated by literary enthusiasts as "Bloomsday"—into a sprawling, epic narrative that structurally and symbolically paralleled Homer's Odyssey, using a dazzling array of distinct styles and linguistic invention across its eighteen episodes to explore the lives of Leopold Bloom, his wife Molly Bloom, and Stephen Dedalus in hyper-minute detail. The novel's explicit content and innovative, challenging structure led to its initial banning for obscenity in the United States and the United Kingdom, turning Joyce into a cause célèbre for artistic freedom and the boundaries of literary expression. His final, most challenging work, Finnegans Wake (1939), pushed the boundaries of language and conventional narrative even further, employing a dense, dream-like prose filled with multilingual puns, invented portmanteau words, and layered allusions that continues to divide and challenge readers and scholars to this day. A dedicated polyglot who reportedly learned several languages, including Norwegian simply to read Ibsen in the original, Joyce approached the English language not as a fixed entity with rigid rules, but as a malleable medium capable of infinite reinvention and expression. His personal life was marked by an unwavering dedication to his literary craft, a complex, devoted relationship with his wife Nora Barnacle, and chronic, debilitating eye problems that necessitated numerous painful surgeries throughout his life, sometimes forcing him to write with crayons on large white paper. Despite these severe physical ailments and financial struggles, his singular literary vision remained sharp, focused, and profoundly revolutionary. Joyce passed away in Zurich, Switzerland, in 1941, shortly after undergoing one of his many eye operations. Today, he is widely regarded as perhaps the most significant and challenging writer of the 20th century. His immense, complex legacy is robustly maintained by global academic study and institutions such as the James Joyce Centre in Dublin, which ensures his complex, demanding, and utterly brilliant work endures, inviting new generations of readers to explore the very essence of what it means to be hum
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews
August 11, 2024
A young man in Dublin meets an old school friend, who had gone off to London and became an apparent success. But how much is illusion and deception— a false front? I kept waiting for Little Chandler to be stuck with the bill at the expensive restaurant where the poseur Gallagher wanted to meet for drinks.
Later, at home with his wife and baby, the pernicious little cloud settles on poor Little Chandler, who examines the unglamorous reality of his own life through fresh eyes and compares it to an illusion: what he imagines his life could be, or should be, or what he imagines to be the heights Gallagher has achieved in London. The little cloud is doubt, self-doubt, and the soul-destroying impulse to "compare and despair".
As I read these stories from Dubliners initially I find there is not much impact. I am not dazzled or walloped. But then as I think about it and attempt a review — only then do I begin to sense the depth, the wealth, and the resonance.
Later, at home with his wife and baby, the pernicious little cloud settles on poor Little Chandler, who examines the unglamorous reality of his own life through fresh eyes and compares it to an illusion: what he imagines his life could be, or should be, or what he imagines to be the heights Gallagher has achieved in London. The little cloud is doubt, self-doubt, and the soul-destroying impulse to "compare and despair".
As I read these stories from Dubliners initially I find there is not much impact. I am not dazzled or walloped. But then as I think about it and attempt a review — only then do I begin to sense the depth, the wealth, and the resonance.
August 19, 2022
It’s so easy to long for green grass. It’s tempting to wander the earth in search of the greenest pasture, a pasture greener & flusher than any you have ever known. More tempting still does this desirous pasture become when you think of the possibility of it being all for you. A lush field of greenery that would render a clover to shy away from the luck which certainly befell every blade of grass.
Little Chandler is thirty-two (32), & he works a job that sustains both himself, his wife & their growing child. He lives in a city that is wrought with history, activity & lore. He wanders streets & alleyways which evoke pensive prose in his mind; he is gifted with the hope for every next day, to be a better day. Yet, he is not Ignatius Gallaher & for that he is remorseful. I suppose we might easily read about Little Chandler’s envy towards his friend with distaste. However, that would not be honest.
Who among us has not been tempted by a singular thought which has wiggled itself into our absentmindedness; a little worm which renders us to pause & wonder if we really did make the most out of everything? Did we choose the right profession, have we loved the ideal partner, have we resided in the most beautiful city? Perhaps yes, perhaps no, ultimately it doesn’t matter because we would ask ourselves the same things if we had chosen otherwise.
Joyce is absurdly talented in his ability to write about a sentiment that has most probably affected all of us at one time. I suppose it depends on where you are in your own life & your own sentimentally towards your decisions but, when the story nears its end & we read about the fear which cradles Little Chandler in its hands as he reads poems that had previously offered him comfort; as we watch a panic instil itself into the place where security & love lay for his family, I felt very sad.
Then, I realized how unreliable our narrator was. Perhaps his wife doesn’t hold love for him in her eyes. Or, perhaps she does & her cooing their son back to sleep was simply a scene meant to reflect the insurmountable insecurity Little Chandler feels about the changes happening in his life. Perhaps Dublin is the dullest place in the world. Or, perhaps Ignatius was overzealous in his descriptions because he so longed to feel valid in the esteem of his Irish friends. In the end, all of these things can be true, it comes down to what the story meant to you.
Little Chandler is thirty-two (32), & he works a job that sustains both himself, his wife & their growing child. He lives in a city that is wrought with history, activity & lore. He wanders streets & alleyways which evoke pensive prose in his mind; he is gifted with the hope for every next day, to be a better day. Yet, he is not Ignatius Gallaher & for that he is remorseful. I suppose we might easily read about Little Chandler’s envy towards his friend with distaste. However, that would not be honest.
Who among us has not been tempted by a singular thought which has wiggled itself into our absentmindedness; a little worm which renders us to pause & wonder if we really did make the most out of everything? Did we choose the right profession, have we loved the ideal partner, have we resided in the most beautiful city? Perhaps yes, perhaps no, ultimately it doesn’t matter because we would ask ourselves the same things if we had chosen otherwise.
Joyce is absurdly talented in his ability to write about a sentiment that has most probably affected all of us at one time. I suppose it depends on where you are in your own life & your own sentimentally towards your decisions but, when the story nears its end & we read about the fear which cradles Little Chandler in its hands as he reads poems that had previously offered him comfort; as we watch a panic instil itself into the place where security & love lay for his family, I felt very sad.
Then, I realized how unreliable our narrator was. Perhaps his wife doesn’t hold love for him in her eyes. Or, perhaps she does & her cooing their son back to sleep was simply a scene meant to reflect the insurmountable insecurity Little Chandler feels about the changes happening in his life. Perhaps Dublin is the dullest place in the world. Or, perhaps Ignatius was overzealous in his descriptions because he so longed to feel valid in the esteem of his Irish friends. In the end, all of these things can be true, it comes down to what the story meant to you.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 26, 2025
از مهدی غبرائی متنفرم
در تمام عمر مطالعاتیام برخورد چندانی با مهدی غبرائی نداشتم و در عوض در طول چند ماه اخیر برخوردهای زیادی با ایشان داشتم که هر کدام بر تنفرم افزود:
۱. پاریس جشن بیکران
مهدی این کتاب را که برادرش فرهاد ترجمه کرده، ویرایش کرده است، دستی به آن کشیده. او مقدمهای هم بر این کار نوشته که اعتراف میکنم شاعرانه بود، اما در پایانش میگوید که ممکن است بگویند دارد از کردیت برادرش سؤاستفاده میکند، اما چنین نیست، و ترجمههای خودش به اندازهٔ کافی کردیت دارد که محتاج کسی نباشد، گرچه آن هم وهم است و… (نقل به مضمون)
اولا، به نظرم اصلا لزومی نداشت این مقدمه نوشته شود، کاستیهایی در کتاب دیدهای و رفع کردهای، چرا باید اشاره کنی به نقص کار برادر فقید و مرحومت؟
ثانیا، چرا انقدر از مخاطب میترسی؟ مخاطب دشمن تو نیست، و بسیاری از مخاطبان به اندازهٔ خودت قضاوتگر نیستند، گیرم هم که باشند، چه اهمیتی دارد؟ شنیدی بالاخره پاریسجشنبیکران چاپ شده؟ این مهدی کیری هم ویرایشش کرده، معلوم نیست چه تری زده تو کتاب، میخواد از قبل برادرش یه چیزی بهش برسه، از این بدتر که نمیشد بگویند؟ ولی چه اهمیتی دارد واقعا؟ بعد هم اگر انقدر میترسی میتوانستی اسمت را ذکر نکنی اصلا، نویسنده همینگوی، مترجم فرهاد غبرائی، همین. من یکبار برای مجموعهداستانی که برادرم ترجمه کرده بود مقدمه نوشتم و گفتم اسمم را نیاورد، اندازهٔ من هم نیستی؟ تازه من فوقالعاده آدم خودخواهیام، ولی اندازهٔ من هم نیستی.
۲. کافکا در کرانه
در یادداشت خود کافکا مفصلا گفتم، اما استاد علاوه بر سانسور کلی سوتی دارد و در مصاحبهای با داستانهمشهری آن زمان، گفته بود باید چند غلط جزئی به یک نثر خفن بخشیده شود، چه گهخوریها!
۳. موجها
ترجمه واقعا خوب بود، اما چرا میگوید با پرویز داریوش مخالف است و فکر میکند خیزاب مدنظر وولف نبوده و موج مدنظر بوده؟ مگر یکی از معانی خیزاب موج نیست؟ توضیحات مهدی روی این کتاب از خودش آشغالتر بودند، اما دمش گرم که آنها را آخر کتاب ذکر کرد که هوای مسموم نفسش کمتر به مشامم برسد.
۴. عتیق رحیمی
اینیکی را نخواندم اما وقتی دیدم یکی از کاربران گفته ترجمهٔ «لعنت بر داستایفسکی» را خوانده و پیشنهاد میکند برویم اصل فارسیاش را بخوانیم (بله درست متوجه شدید) کنجکاو و جستجوگر شدم و فهمیدم ایشان نویسندهٔ فارسیزبان هستند (اهل افغانستان) که کتابهایشان به انگلیسی و فرانسه ترجمه شده و نشر ثالث یک نسخهٔ انگلیسی از کتاب را داده مهدی ترجمه کند. مهدی از همهجا بیخبر هم که کونش نکشید سه دقیقه در اینترنت جستجو کند روزها را وقف ترجمهٔ کتابی کرد که اصل فارسیاش موجود بود، و وقتی پس از انتشار به این قضیه اعتراض شد، نامجووار نهتنها اشتباهش را نپذیرفت، بلکه توجیه کرد که فارسی درّی برای مخاطب ایرانی دشوار است، خب چرا از همان فارسی درّی ترجمه نکردی ابله؟
۵. مصاحبهای در باب نوبل با کاوه میرعباسی
مهدی و میرعباسی در اینجا حرفهایی زدند که یادم نیست کدام به کدام بود اما یادم هست میرعباسی هم حاشیههای خودش را دارد پس بدون دبلچک نقلقول میکنم، آنها یکی از دلایل نوبلنبردن ایرانیها را این میدانند که نویسندههای ایرانی نویسندهٔ حرفهای نیستند چون کسی از این راه پول درنمیآورد و نوشتن برای نویسندههای ایرانی «تفنن» است. واقعا آیا کل زندگی من سؤتفاهم بوده یا اینها در اشتباهند و هر نویسندهای که برای پول ننویسد لزوما کارش تفنن نیست؟ مثلا غزاله علیزاده که میگوید اگر روزی قلم بایستد و ننویسد قلب او هم میایستد داشته به موجودی حسابش فکر میکرده؟
نویسندهبودن در ایران سخت است. خیلی چیزها سخت است، زنبودن، زندهبودن، آزادهبودن، اما یکیش هم میشود هنرمندبودن که از اقسامش همین نویسندگی است.
تقریبا تمام ادیبان خفن ایران در زندگیشان بهگاییهایی را تجربه کردهاند، اما لازم نیست برویم سراغ فردوسی و حلاج، از زمان ورود رمان به ایران، ما بدبختی کم نداشتیم، و تقریبا ۹۰٪ رمانهای خفن ما اجازهٔ چاپ نداشتهاند، و از زمان رضاشاه تا الان هر حکومتی بخشی از توش و توان خود را مصروف گاییدن نویسندهها کرده است. نویسنده اگر خایهمال نباشد و پیچیده و اوپنمایند باشد دهنش گاییده است. سرنوشت آدمهایی مثل هدایت و معروفی واقعا جای گریه دارد. ممنوعالقلمی و سانسور دو عامل عمده از بالا هستند، اما قطع به یقین فقط این نیست.
در ایران کمتر مفسر و منتقدی هست که به آثار ایرانی توجه کند (عجب آیرونی تخمیای). آنها ترجیح میدهند آثار غربی را تجزیهتحلیل کنند که جای شکرش باقی است چون استعداد خاصی در این کار ندارند. مخاطب عام ایرانی هم که کلا کتاب نمیخواند و «من کتاب نمیخونم» یا «وقت کتابخوندن ندارم» یا «نمیتونم رو کتاب تمرکز کنم» یا «کتاب میخونم خوابم میگیره» نه به عنوان جملاتی که با شرم بیان شوند، که مثل سناریویی که بازیگری حفظ کرده باشد از دهان مردم تف میشود (عجب استفادهٔ متفاوتی از یک فعل، حال میکنی آقای گلشیری؟)، و آن دسته هم کتاب میخوانند لذت وافری از کتابهای کسشعر میبرند که بایذوی این هم خیلی نرمال شده و وقتی کسی با نگاهی به خرمندی دامبلدور میگوید ۴۸قانونقدرت کتاب خوبیه حتما باید بخونیش تو خیلی ضعیفی اصلا آدم به خودش زحمت نمیدهد وارد بحث شود.
اینکه از ۹۰ میلیون آدم در این سرزمین شاید ۵۰۰ نفر واقعا ادبیات را بفهمند و عدهٔ کمتری از آنها برای ادبیات ایرانی وقت بگذارند و عدهٔ کمترتری برای ادبیات معاصر ایرانی و عدهٔ کمترترتری برای رمان معاصر ایرانی، چقدر باعث شکلگیری یک جریان بهطورکلی و پیشرفت یک شخص بهطورجزئی میشود؟ نویسندهٔ اصیل که برای مخاطب نمینویسه، برای دل خودش مینویسه. این حرف هم کسشعر است. اینکه کتاب باید خوانده شود به این معنا نیست که کتاب برای خواندهشدن نوشته شده، به این معنا ست که ادبیات هم مثل هر هنر دیگری محصول تاریخ است و تاریخ فقط گذشته نیست و هرلحظه دارد شکل میگیرد، و هیچ نویسندهای نیست که به تمام ابعاد اثرش آگاه باشد و نظر دیگران میتواند روشنگر باشد. و بهعلاوه نیاز به توجه لزوما فاحشگی فکری نیست، فاحشگی فکری وقتی رخ میدهد که هنرمند مطابق سلیقهٔ دیگران هنرش را تغییر دهد.
- وضعیت جویس در ایرلند بسیار شبیه وضعیت نویسندهٔ ایرانی بود در تمام قسمتها، حتی آنجا هم گهخورهایی مثل مهدی غبرائی وجود داشتند و روی مخ جویس راه میرفتند.
جویس پر کشید و موفق شد، آیا چنین امیدی منتظر استعدادهای ادبی ما هم هست؟
من به اینجا خیلی امیدوارم، هم به لحاظ نقد هم قوهٔ خلاقه. هم در اینجا یادداشتهایی خواندهام که بهتر از کل کل تاریخ نقد معاصر ایران موشکافنده بودند، و هم تخیل جالبی در میان بعضی از دوستان جریان دارد. اینجا برایم شبیه به فضای زیرزمینی موسیقی رپ است، بدون نیاز به آقابالاسر، ما خودمان داریم دست خودمان را میگیریم.
- خوانش سوم، بار اول ترجمهٔ پرویز داریوش نازنین، که به زیبایی هرچهتمامتر عنوان کتاب را «پارهای ابر» گردانده، بارهای بعدی ترجمهٔ صفریان که meh، ترجمه کرده «ابر کوچک».
در تمام عمر مطالعاتیام برخورد چندانی با مهدی غبرائی نداشتم و در عوض در طول چند ماه اخیر برخوردهای زیادی با ایشان داشتم که هر کدام بر تنفرم افزود:
۱. پاریس جشن بیکران
مهدی این کتاب را که برادرش فرهاد ترجمه کرده، ویرایش کرده است، دستی به آن کشیده. او مقدمهای هم بر این کار نوشته که اعتراف میکنم شاعرانه بود، اما در پایانش میگوید که ممکن است بگویند دارد از کردیت برادرش سؤاستفاده میکند، اما چنین نیست، و ترجمههای خودش به اندازهٔ کافی کردیت دارد که محتاج کسی نباشد، گرچه آن هم وهم است و… (نقل به مضمون)
اولا، به نظرم اصلا لزومی نداشت این مقدمه نوشته شود، کاستیهایی در کتاب دیدهای و رفع کردهای، چرا باید اشاره کنی به نقص کار برادر فقید و مرحومت؟
ثانیا، چرا انقدر از مخاطب میترسی؟ مخاطب دشمن تو نیست، و بسیاری از مخاطبان به اندازهٔ خودت قضاوتگر نیستند، گیرم هم که باشند، چه اهمیتی دارد؟ شنیدی بالاخره پاریسجشنبیکران چاپ شده؟ این مهدی کیری هم ویرایشش کرده، معلوم نیست چه تری زده تو کتاب، میخواد از قبل برادرش یه چیزی بهش برسه، از این بدتر که نمیشد بگویند؟ ولی چه اهمیتی دارد واقعا؟ بعد هم اگر انقدر میترسی میتوانستی اسمت را ذکر نکنی اصلا، نویسنده همینگوی، مترجم فرهاد غبرائی، همین. من یکبار برای مجموعهداستانی که برادرم ترجمه کرده بود مقدمه نوشتم و گفتم اسمم را نیاورد، اندازهٔ من هم نیستی؟ تازه من فوقالعاده آدم خودخواهیام، ولی اندازهٔ من هم نیستی.
۲. کافکا در کرانه
در یادداشت خود کافکا مفصلا گفتم، اما استاد علاوه بر سانسور کلی سوتی دارد و در مصاحبهای با داستانهمشهری آن زمان، گفته بود باید چند غلط جزئی به یک نثر خفن بخشیده شود، چه گهخوریها!
۳. موجها
ترجمه واقعا خوب بود، اما چرا میگوید با پرویز داریوش مخالف است و فکر میکند خیزاب مدنظر وولف نبوده و موج مدنظر بوده؟ مگر یکی از معانی خیزاب موج نیست؟ توضیحات مهدی روی این کتاب از خودش آشغالتر بودند، اما دمش گرم که آنها را آخر کتاب ذکر کرد که هوای مسموم نفسش کمتر به مشامم برسد.
۴. عتیق رحیمی
اینیکی را نخواندم اما وقتی دیدم یکی از کاربران گفته ترجمهٔ «لعنت بر داستایفسکی» را خوانده و پیشنهاد میکند برویم اصل فارسیاش را بخوانیم (بله درست متوجه شدید) کنجکاو و جستجوگر شدم و فهمیدم ایشان نویسندهٔ فارسیزبان هستند (اهل افغانستان) که کتابهایشان به انگلیسی و فرانسه ترجمه شده و نشر ثالث یک نسخهٔ انگلیسی از کتاب را داده مهدی ترجمه کند. مهدی از همهجا بیخبر هم که کونش نکشید سه دقیقه در اینترنت جستجو کند روزها را وقف ترجمهٔ کتابی کرد که اصل فارسیاش موجود بود، و وقتی پس از انتشار به این قضیه اعتراض شد، نامجووار نهتنها اشتباهش را نپذیرفت، بلکه توجیه کرد که فارسی درّی برای مخاطب ایرانی دشوار است، خب چرا از همان فارسی درّی ترجمه نکردی ابله؟
۵. مصاحبهای در باب نوبل با کاوه میرعباسی
مهدی و میرعباسی در اینجا حرفهایی زدند که یادم نیست کدام به کدام بود اما یادم هست میرعباسی هم حاشیههای خودش را دارد پس بدون دبلچک نقلقول میکنم، آنها یکی از دلایل نوبلنبردن ایرانیها را این میدانند که نویسندههای ایرانی نویسندهٔ حرفهای نیستند چون کسی از این راه پول درنمیآورد و نوشتن برای نویسندههای ایرانی «تفنن» است. واقعا آیا کل زندگی من سؤتفاهم بوده یا اینها در اشتباهند و هر نویسندهای که برای پول ننویسد لزوما کارش تفنن نیست؟ مثلا غزاله علیزاده که میگوید اگر روزی قلم بایستد و ننویسد قلب او هم میایستد داشته به موجودی حسابش فکر میکرده؟
نویسندهبودن در ایران سخت است. خیلی چیزها سخت است، زنبودن، زندهبودن، آزادهبودن، اما یکیش هم میشود هنرمندبودن که از اقسامش همین نویسندگی است.
تقریبا تمام ادیبان خفن ایران در زندگیشان بهگاییهایی را تجربه کردهاند، اما لازم نیست برویم سراغ فردوسی و حلاج، از زمان ورود رمان به ایران، ما بدبختی کم نداشتیم، و تقریبا ۹۰٪ رمانهای خفن ما اجازهٔ چاپ نداشتهاند، و از زمان رضاشاه تا الان هر حکومتی بخشی از توش و توان خود را مصروف گاییدن نویسندهها کرده است. نویسنده اگر خایهمال نباشد و پیچیده و اوپنمایند باشد دهنش گاییده است. سرنوشت آدمهایی مثل هدایت و معروفی واقعا جای گریه دارد. ممنوعالقلمی و سانسور دو عامل عمده از بالا هستند، اما قطع به یقین فقط این نیست.
در ایران کمتر مفسر و منتقدی هست که به آثار ایرانی توجه کند (عجب آیرونی تخمیای). آنها ترجیح میدهند آثار غربی را تجزیهتحلیل کنند که جای شکرش باقی است چون استعداد خاصی در این کار ندارند. مخاطب عام ایرانی هم که کلا کتاب نمیخواند و «من کتاب نمیخونم» یا «وقت کتابخوندن ندارم» یا «نمیتونم رو کتاب تمرکز کنم» یا «کتاب میخونم خوابم میگیره» نه به عنوان جملاتی که با شرم بیان شوند، که مثل سناریویی که بازیگری حفظ کرده باشد از دهان مردم تف میشود (عجب استفادهٔ متفاوتی از یک فعل، حال میکنی آقای گلشیری؟)، و آن دسته هم کتاب میخوانند لذت وافری از کتابهای کسشعر میبرند که بایذوی این هم خیلی نرمال شده و وقتی کسی با نگاهی به خرمندی دامبلدور میگوید ۴۸قانونقدرت کتاب خوبیه حتما باید بخونیش تو خیلی ضعیفی اصلا آدم به خودش زحمت نمیدهد وارد بحث شود.
اینکه از ۹۰ میلیون آدم در این سرزمین شاید ۵۰۰ نفر واقعا ادبیات را بفهمند و عدهٔ کمتری از آنها برای ادبیات ایرانی وقت بگذارند و عدهٔ کمترتری برای ادبیات معاصر ایرانی و عدهٔ کمترترتری برای رمان معاصر ایرانی، چقدر باعث شکلگیری یک جریان بهطورکلی و پیشرفت یک شخص بهطورجزئی میشود؟ نویسندهٔ اصیل که برای مخاطب نمینویسه، برای دل خودش مینویسه. این حرف هم کسشعر است. اینکه کتاب باید خوانده شود به این معنا نیست که کتاب برای خواندهشدن نوشته شده، به این معنا ست که ادبیات هم مثل هر هنر دیگری محصول تاریخ است و تاریخ فقط گذشته نیست و هرلحظه دارد شکل میگیرد، و هیچ نویسندهای نیست که به تمام ابعاد اثرش آگاه باشد و نظر دیگران میتواند روشنگر باشد. و بهعلاوه نیاز به توجه لزوما فاحشگی فکری نیست، فاحشگی فکری وقتی رخ میدهد که هنرمند مطابق سلیقهٔ دیگران هنرش را تغییر دهد.
- وضعیت جویس در ایرلند بسیار شبیه وضعیت نویسندهٔ ایرانی بود در تمام قسمتها، حتی آنجا هم گهخورهایی مثل مهدی غبرائی وجود داشتند و روی مخ جویس راه میرفتند.
جویس پر کشید و موفق شد، آیا چنین امیدی منتظر استعدادهای ادبی ما هم هست؟
من به اینجا خیلی امیدوارم، هم به لحاظ نقد هم قوهٔ خلاقه. هم در اینجا یادداشتهایی خواندهام که بهتر از کل کل تاریخ نقد معاصر ایران موشکافنده بودند، و هم تخیل جالبی در میان بعضی از دوستان جریان دارد. اینجا برایم شبیه به فضای زیرزمینی موسیقی رپ است، بدون نیاز به آقابالاسر، ما خودمان داریم دست خودمان را میگیریم.
- خوانش سوم، بار اول ترجمهٔ پرویز داریوش نازنین، که به زیبایی هرچهتمامتر عنوان کتاب را «پارهای ابر» گردانده، بارهای بعدی ترجمهٔ صفریان که meh، ترجمه کرده «ابر کوچک».
October 4, 2025
Meh.
Not worth reviewing.
For the moment at least.
It’s public domain. You can find it HERE.
-----------------------------------------------
PERSONAL NOTE :
[1914] [19p] [Classics] [Not Recommendable]
-----------------------------------------------
Meh.
No vale la pena reseñarlo.
Al menos por ahora.
Es dominio público, lo pueden encontrar ACA.
-----------------------------------------------
NOTA PERSONAL :
[1914] [19p] [Clásicos] [No Recomendable]
-----------------------------------------------
Not worth reviewing.
For the moment at least.
It’s public domain. You can find it HERE.
-----------------------------------------------
PERSONAL NOTE :
[1914] [19p] [Classics] [Not Recommendable]
-----------------------------------------------
Meh.
No vale la pena reseñarlo.
Al menos por ahora.
Es dominio público, lo pueden encontrar ACA.
-----------------------------------------------
NOTA PERSONAL :
[1914] [19p] [Clásicos] [No Recomendable]
-----------------------------------------------
March 17, 2012
I can relate with Little Chandler in this story, who hasn't had doubt about their life choices especially when faced with friends who seem to have accomplished so much more. However, this isn't a book about self-pity, it is that stinging insecurity about choices made and whether one is on the correct path.
November 16, 2018
One of the best short stories ever.
July 13, 2016
I have arranged my thoughts on this short story into a haiku:
"Small, angry whiner,
Unsatisfied with your life,
TIME'S not your problem."
"Small, angry whiner,
Unsatisfied with your life,
TIME'S not your problem."
October 18, 2020
Um testemunho de falhas, de (in)decisões mal ponderadas e da descoberta assustadora de que nem tudo o que se escolhe se quer realmente.
December 14, 2019
Heartbreakingly brilliant. My favorite Joyce so far.
May 13, 2014
A Little Cloud - a short story of two old friends reuniting. One friend, Little Chandler, is always comparing himself to his friend. Little Chandler feels his decision to marry and parenthood had ended his future aspirations and dreams. Joyce touches upon hope and lost dreams. Joyce's intimate writing styles leaves the reader feeling privy to the reunion between old friends.
January 10, 2016
Dublin vs. London.
March 5, 2017
This was a pretty insightful tale. Nowadays, postpartum depression is fairly well documented and widely treated illness; new mother's receive counsel and care they need to combat the psychological and physical effects of this disease. In this story, it was interesting to read it from the father's point of view and it makes me wonder if the author was aware of the illness when he wrote it or if this was pure fiction based on factual events, or if back in the days they were aware the illness even existed at all.
***SPOILER ALERT****
This tale was also a prime example of how ignorance can be bliss-- before his meeting with Gallaher, Chandler was content with his home life; one would even venture to say that he was quite proud of his baby boy and still smitten with his new wife. But when Gallaher enlightened Chandler the carnal potentials of remaining a bachelor, it skewed Chandler's view of his own situation. All of a sudden, the promise of greener pastures was so tempting that his home life seems all too dull and unsatisfying in comparison. He found fault in wife's appearance, he never saw before and his son- once his pride and job became nothing more than an irritating nuisance. I am reminded of the old fable about the dog with a bone who sees his reflection in the water and starts to covet the "other" dog's bone despite being in possession of a similar bone himself. Just as the old adage says "You always want what you can't have." and what silly creatures we are that we do.
***SPOILER ALERT****
This tale was also a prime example of how ignorance can be bliss-- before his meeting with Gallaher, Chandler was content with his home life; one would even venture to say that he was quite proud of his baby boy and still smitten with his new wife. But when Gallaher enlightened Chandler the carnal potentials of remaining a bachelor, it skewed Chandler's view of his own situation. All of a sudden, the promise of greener pastures was so tempting that his home life seems all too dull and unsatisfying in comparison. He found fault in wife's appearance, he never saw before and his son- once his pride and job became nothing more than an irritating nuisance. I am reminded of the old fable about the dog with a bone who sees his reflection in the water and starts to covet the "other" dog's bone despite being in possession of a similar bone himself. Just as the old adage says "You always want what you can't have." and what silly creatures we are that we do.
September 12, 2013
This could easily be a story that was set and written in this day.
Little Chandler is meeting up with a friend at a bar whom he has not seen in many years. His friend has lived and adventurous life full of travel but lacking love whereas Little Chandler decided to settle down and have a family. Little Chandler has always envied to some extent the life that his friend has lived and after his encounter with his friend the repercussions of these built up yearns feelings have an explosive outcome.
As one reviewer mentioned already, this story isn't about self-pity but rather insecurity and the doubt that comes with the choices we make in life. Most people can relate to Little Chandler in one way or another and we're supposed to. What would hopefully make us different is that we would recognize our indifference and do something proactive about it. I think the point Joyce was trying to scare into his readers is to not let yourself become Little Chandler. We all have doubts but it's about making those choices and finding ways to be happy with them and ultimately finding the gratitude for the life you're living.
Little Chandler is meeting up with a friend at a bar whom he has not seen in many years. His friend has lived and adventurous life full of travel but lacking love whereas Little Chandler decided to settle down and have a family. Little Chandler has always envied to some extent the life that his friend has lived and after his encounter with his friend the repercussions of these built up yearns feelings have an explosive outcome.
As one reviewer mentioned already, this story isn't about self-pity but rather insecurity and the doubt that comes with the choices we make in life. Most people can relate to Little Chandler in one way or another and we're supposed to. What would hopefully make us different is that we would recognize our indifference and do something proactive about it. I think the point Joyce was trying to scare into his readers is to not let yourself become Little Chandler. We all have doubts but it's about making those choices and finding ways to be happy with them and ultimately finding the gratitude for the life you're living.
May 26, 2021
i am so fuckjng broken
December 9, 2025
Coming back to this when I'm having a mid-life crisis
July 29, 2025
A Little Cloud by James Joyce
The unexpected Joys of life, all in a Wonderful tale
I am so happy that I can read from the writer that is acclaimed by a good number of scholars as “The best”.
Ulysses by James Joyce tops the “Literature Charts”, although it is not such a best seller as The Inferno or The Da Vinci Code, by a much lesser author.
Ulysses is listed at number One, on the Modern Library list of the best 100 novels of the 20th century, written in English. A Portrait of the Artist as A Young Man comes close on its heels at number three.
Then there is Finnegan’s Wake, somewhere near the middle of the list.
“Eight years before he had seen his friend off at the North Wall and wished him God-speed. Gallaher had got on. You could tell that at once by his travelled air, his well-cut tweed suit, and fearless accent. Few fellows had talents like his, and fewer still could remain unspoiled by such success.”
This is the beginning of the short tale and we meet right from the start a very worthy main character, The Talented Mr. Ripley...no, no- sorry- Mr. Gallaher.
The other hero may strike one as a bit “gay”, not that this is wrong, on the contrary- in the sense that he seems to take care of himself-
“…his manners were refined. He took the greatest care of his fair silken hair and moustache, and used perfume discreetly on his handkerchief. The half-moons of his nails were perfect....”
Straight men, like myself, do not take this careful attitude towards themselves, most of the time, and this is not good.
The two friends have not seen each other for the past eight years and Gallaher had become a „brilliant figure on the London Press”.
It seems that we have on one hand a successful man and on the other a sad, melancholy friend, keen on poetry, albeit for some time the poetry books had remained on their shelves.
It is very pleasant to read that Little Chandler, our second main character is melancholy, but on his way out “his mind was full of a present joy”.
Ignatius Gallaher had talent, was wild and impressive. He kept a bold face in all situations, got in trouble, but had the admiration of Chandler and other people.
Little Chandler feels he has to go away from Dublin, where “you could do nothing” and there is always hope-“A light began to tremble on the horizon of his mind”.
„Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy. If he could give expression to it in a book of poems perhaps men would listen.”
These are meaningful, beautiful passages and an excellent dialogue when the two friends meet, at a bar. Ignatius Gallaher is very happy to be in Dublin, which his interlocutor is willing to leave. They talk about common acquaintances- “O’Hara went to the dogs”…
We laugh when we learn that Little Chandler, called Tommy by Gallaher has only been to The Isle of Man. The dialogue moves on to Paris- “... But it's the life of Paris; that's the thing. Ah, there's no city like Paris for gaiety, movement, excitement... ' but Tommy beginns to feel dissapointed, for there is something vulgar in his friend, albeit the old charm was still there...
-„Everything in Paris is gay”....really? I know the ex –mair was....the story turns into an ad for a trip to Paris: „If you want to enjoy yourself properly you must go to Paris”
- There's no woman like the Parisienne - for style, for go.'
`Then it is an immoral city,' said Little Chandler, with timid insistence - `I mean, compared with London or Dublin?'
Isn’t Tommy funny or what? We are then taken on a short tour of London and end up in...Berlin-„ He summarized the vices of many capitals and seemed inclined to award the palm to Berlin”
And indeed, even in our day and age, Dublin is a place with a whole different perspective on the world- recently an Asian woman has died, and is not the only one, because abortion is allowed in very, very few cases in Ireland and they tend to let mothers die in a number of situations, rather than allow for a necessary termination of the pregnancy.
But let’s get back to the humor of Joyce: “…may you never die till I shoot you.” Is the expressed wish of Ignatius.
„...listening to Gallaher's stories and of sharing for a brief space Gallaher's vagrant and triumphant life, upset the equipoise of his sensitive nature. He felt acutely the contrast between his own life and his friend's, and it seemed to him unjust. Gallaher was his inferior in birth and education. He was sure that he could do something better than his friend had ever done, or could ever do, something higher than mere tawdry journalism if he only got the chance”
Somehow, Little Chandler is breaking the third rule from The How of Happiness: Do not compare yourself with others, for if you do, you will be unhappy. Tommy Chandler comes to the conclusion that Gallaher is patronizing and he is timid.
Back home, with a child in his arms, Little Chandler thinks:
„Could he not escape from his little house? Was it too late for him to try to live bravely like Gallaher? Could he go to London? There was the furniture still to be paid for. If he could only write a book and get it published, that might open the way for him.”
Then he opens a volume of Byron:
„Hushed are the winds and still the evening gloom, Not e'en a Zephyr wanders through the grove, Whilst I return to view my Margaret's tomb And scatter flowers on the dust I love.”
But suddenly, the baby in his arms starts to cry and wail. Little Chandler is terribly upset, then depressed – “He was a prisoner for life” … towards the end he feels remorse.
This is a wonderful short story that you can read or download legally here:
world-english.org/joyce.doc
www.world-english.org
The unexpected Joys of life, all in a Wonderful tale
I am so happy that I can read from the writer that is acclaimed by a good number of scholars as “The best”.
Ulysses by James Joyce tops the “Literature Charts”, although it is not such a best seller as The Inferno or The Da Vinci Code, by a much lesser author.
Ulysses is listed at number One, on the Modern Library list of the best 100 novels of the 20th century, written in English. A Portrait of the Artist as A Young Man comes close on its heels at number three.
Then there is Finnegan’s Wake, somewhere near the middle of the list.
“Eight years before he had seen his friend off at the North Wall and wished him God-speed. Gallaher had got on. You could tell that at once by his travelled air, his well-cut tweed suit, and fearless accent. Few fellows had talents like his, and fewer still could remain unspoiled by such success.”
This is the beginning of the short tale and we meet right from the start a very worthy main character, The Talented Mr. Ripley...no, no- sorry- Mr. Gallaher.
The other hero may strike one as a bit “gay”, not that this is wrong, on the contrary- in the sense that he seems to take care of himself-
“…his manners were refined. He took the greatest care of his fair silken hair and moustache, and used perfume discreetly on his handkerchief. The half-moons of his nails were perfect....”
Straight men, like myself, do not take this careful attitude towards themselves, most of the time, and this is not good.
The two friends have not seen each other for the past eight years and Gallaher had become a „brilliant figure on the London Press”.
It seems that we have on one hand a successful man and on the other a sad, melancholy friend, keen on poetry, albeit for some time the poetry books had remained on their shelves.
It is very pleasant to read that Little Chandler, our second main character is melancholy, but on his way out “his mind was full of a present joy”.
Ignatius Gallaher had talent, was wild and impressive. He kept a bold face in all situations, got in trouble, but had the admiration of Chandler and other people.
Little Chandler feels he has to go away from Dublin, where “you could do nothing” and there is always hope-“A light began to tremble on the horizon of his mind”.
„Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy. If he could give expression to it in a book of poems perhaps men would listen.”
These are meaningful, beautiful passages and an excellent dialogue when the two friends meet, at a bar. Ignatius Gallaher is very happy to be in Dublin, which his interlocutor is willing to leave. They talk about common acquaintances- “O’Hara went to the dogs”…
We laugh when we learn that Little Chandler, called Tommy by Gallaher has only been to The Isle of Man. The dialogue moves on to Paris- “... But it's the life of Paris; that's the thing. Ah, there's no city like Paris for gaiety, movement, excitement... ' but Tommy beginns to feel dissapointed, for there is something vulgar in his friend, albeit the old charm was still there...
-„Everything in Paris is gay”....really? I know the ex –mair was....the story turns into an ad for a trip to Paris: „If you want to enjoy yourself properly you must go to Paris”
- There's no woman like the Parisienne - for style, for go.'
`Then it is an immoral city,' said Little Chandler, with timid insistence - `I mean, compared with London or Dublin?'
Isn’t Tommy funny or what? We are then taken on a short tour of London and end up in...Berlin-„ He summarized the vices of many capitals and seemed inclined to award the palm to Berlin”
And indeed, even in our day and age, Dublin is a place with a whole different perspective on the world- recently an Asian woman has died, and is not the only one, because abortion is allowed in very, very few cases in Ireland and they tend to let mothers die in a number of situations, rather than allow for a necessary termination of the pregnancy.
But let’s get back to the humor of Joyce: “…may you never die till I shoot you.” Is the expressed wish of Ignatius.
„...listening to Gallaher's stories and of sharing for a brief space Gallaher's vagrant and triumphant life, upset the equipoise of his sensitive nature. He felt acutely the contrast between his own life and his friend's, and it seemed to him unjust. Gallaher was his inferior in birth and education. He was sure that he could do something better than his friend had ever done, or could ever do, something higher than mere tawdry journalism if he only got the chance”
Somehow, Little Chandler is breaking the third rule from The How of Happiness: Do not compare yourself with others, for if you do, you will be unhappy. Tommy Chandler comes to the conclusion that Gallaher is patronizing and he is timid.
Back home, with a child in his arms, Little Chandler thinks:
„Could he not escape from his little house? Was it too late for him to try to live bravely like Gallaher? Could he go to London? There was the furniture still to be paid for. If he could only write a book and get it published, that might open the way for him.”
Then he opens a volume of Byron:
„Hushed are the winds and still the evening gloom, Not e'en a Zephyr wanders through the grove, Whilst I return to view my Margaret's tomb And scatter flowers on the dust I love.”
But suddenly, the baby in his arms starts to cry and wail. Little Chandler is terribly upset, then depressed – “He was a prisoner for life” … towards the end he feels remorse.
This is a wonderful short story that you can read or download legally here:
world-english.org/joyce.doc
www.world-english.org
July 1, 2014
An okay read.
December 16, 2024
Joyce serves up a plate of regret with a side of envy. The spotlight shines on Little Chandler, dwarfed by his much larger shadow of timidity. Dubliner childhood friends with Ignatius Gallaher, they went their separate ways 8 years ago. Gallaher to the bright lights and big city of London, as a journalist for the revered London Press. Little Chandler to a little office, as a lowly law clerk in Dublin. Gallaher passionately roaming Continental Europe and tasting all the delicacies of food, wine and women. Little Chandler dully and routinely living in a humble home with a too prim and proper wife and a child.
Then Gallaher graces Dublin's presence and meets Little Chandler at an upscale bar above Little Chandler's comfort zone. There they exchange their meantime life. Gallaher’s perhaps speculative minute envy of Little Chandler’s stability is swallowed up by the latter’s burning regret that he hadn't made more of himself or at least been more of a risk taker and tasted some passion. He wanted Gallaher's lifestyle. He thought he was better than Gallaher and deserved more but could never pull the trigger to move beyond what he had always been - a timid, play it safe sort.
Later at home, these thoughts distracted him from properly caring for the baby while the mother wife was out. The baby fell into a convulsive crying fit, as the mother returned home and berated Little Chandler severely. Little Chandler dropped tears of remorse. But whether it was for the way he mishandled the baby, or for his choice leading to his fated family life, is left to the reader.
Well written. Recommended.
Then Gallaher graces Dublin's presence and meets Little Chandler at an upscale bar above Little Chandler's comfort zone. There they exchange their meantime life. Gallaher’s perhaps speculative minute envy of Little Chandler’s stability is swallowed up by the latter’s burning regret that he hadn't made more of himself or at least been more of a risk taker and tasted some passion. He wanted Gallaher's lifestyle. He thought he was better than Gallaher and deserved more but could never pull the trigger to move beyond what he had always been - a timid, play it safe sort.
Later at home, these thoughts distracted him from properly caring for the baby while the mother wife was out. The baby fell into a convulsive crying fit, as the mother returned home and berated Little Chandler severely. Little Chandler dropped tears of remorse. But whether it was for the way he mishandled the baby, or for his choice leading to his fated family life, is left to the reader.
Well written. Recommended.
September 26, 2023
“He picked his way deftly through all that minute vermin-like life and under the shadow of the gaunt spectral mansions in which the old nobility of Dublin had roistered. No memory of the past touched him, for his mind was full of a present joy.”
Little Chandler seems to have a sort of melancholy about him when he thinks about the past, but he is excited to see his old friend and catch up with him. Ignatius Gallaher had gone away from Dublin while Little Chandler started a family and led a simple life of work and home. With this passage Little Chandler seems satisfied with where he is in life at the present.
“And, after all, Gallaher had lived, he had seen the world. Little Chandler looked at his friend enviously.”
This contrasts with Tommy Chandler’s initial joy at meeting his friend. Over the course of the story, he begins to have aspirations outside of his current life, and outside of Dublin. The significance of these aspirations is amplified by the fact that Gallaher had gotten to explore and see new parts of the world. It is hearing these stories that ignites a jealousy in Little Chandler, and a dissatisfaction with his current life.
Little Chandler seems to have a sort of melancholy about him when he thinks about the past, but he is excited to see his old friend and catch up with him. Ignatius Gallaher had gone away from Dublin while Little Chandler started a family and led a simple life of work and home. With this passage Little Chandler seems satisfied with where he is in life at the present.
“And, after all, Gallaher had lived, he had seen the world. Little Chandler looked at his friend enviously.”
This contrasts with Tommy Chandler’s initial joy at meeting his friend. Over the course of the story, he begins to have aspirations outside of his current life, and outside of Dublin. The significance of these aspirations is amplified by the fact that Gallaher had gotten to explore and see new parts of the world. It is hearing these stories that ignites a jealousy in Little Chandler, and a dissatisfaction with his current life.
October 14, 2023
A Little Cloud by James Joyce — Review
The main character of the story “A Little Cloud” by James Joyce compared his life with the life of his former friend who was more successful in their careers...
The story ends with a scene of an alarmed mother calming a crying child: “My little man! My little mannie! Was ' ou frightened, love?... There now, love!”. The mother holds the child in her arms. This is the author’s positive assessment. There is a motherly principle here, there is love here. Only for this reason it is possible for the main character to return to himself: “felt his cheeks suffused with shame” …
Here is the link to the text of the story:
https://genius.com/James-joyce-a-litt...
The main character of the story “A Little Cloud” by James Joyce compared his life with the life of his former friend who was more successful in their careers...
The story ends with a scene of an alarmed mother calming a crying child: “My little man! My little mannie! Was ' ou frightened, love?... There now, love!”. The mother holds the child in her arms. This is the author’s positive assessment. There is a motherly principle here, there is love here. Only for this reason it is possible for the main character to return to himself: “felt his cheeks suffused with shame” …
Here is the link to the text of the story:
https://genius.com/James-joyce-a-litt...
January 4, 2025
3.75
This story is the epitome of wondering if the grass is greener.
A settled, married man is reunited with his successful bachelor friend who has moved overseas. It's a tale as old as time really, as the narrator is taken in by tales of grandeur, wealthy women and success- an empty illusion no doubt as can be read in the response of the successful man, who becomes defensive in regards to his lack of a partner.
I was saddened to see the narrator caught up in the situation, doubting his new wife and his newborn that he was clearly proud of before this encounter. I hope its a brief lapse, the remorse shown at the end of the story is left up to interpretation on the whole. This is another one that still feels rather relevant.
This story is the epitome of wondering if the grass is greener.
A settled, married man is reunited with his successful bachelor friend who has moved overseas. It's a tale as old as time really, as the narrator is taken in by tales of grandeur, wealthy women and success- an empty illusion no doubt as can be read in the response of the successful man, who becomes defensive in regards to his lack of a partner.
I was saddened to see the narrator caught up in the situation, doubting his new wife and his newborn that he was clearly proud of before this encounter. I hope its a brief lapse, the remorse shown at the end of the story is left up to interpretation on the whole. This is another one that still feels rather relevant.
May 9, 2023
Little Chandler at Dublin is excited to meet Gallaher who is doing well in London Press. The short story covers the brief meeting of two friends who started the same, but their growth over years is different. The parameters with which a person’s success is measured is subjective. Chandler is married and has a kid, Gallaher has travelled and seen the world. The aspirations of each other, changes their very perspective of life.
“Those dark oriental eyes, he thought, how full they are of passion, of voluptuous longing”
“Those dark oriental eyes, he thought, how full they are of passion, of voluptuous longing”
March 30, 2018
Read in Dubliners.
A man, Little Chandler, is dreams of being a writer. He feels sorry for himself after having dinner with an old friend.
A man, Little Chandler, is dreams of being a writer. He feels sorry for himself after having dinner with an old friend.
May 19, 2019
Choices in life affect a lot in this dynamic living society. Some might argue that the story portrays only one scene of despair of Little Chandler's life. But is this scene's gravity enough to absorb the disparity of his living?
January 19, 2023
Reading The Dubliners as a whole currently but was so impressed with this story that I had to review it separately. Not so in love with the eight or so tales that came before it, which might be why this one stood out so much. I will be rereading this though 💓
February 9, 2025
"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"
"(frowning slightly to make his errand appear serious)"
"(frowning slightly to make his errand appear serious)"
March 30, 2025
A tale of two men each living a life with a cloud over it. One pretending to be a man of the world of immoratlity and the other a life of wife and child. Each perhaps desires that of the other. Kristi & Abby Tabby Childless Cat Lady
March 15, 2019
Interesting little story about someone comparing his life to his buddy's. Ends too uprupt for my taste but wasn't bad.
January 4, 2021
Will have to return to this when I'm having my mid-life crysis
November 19, 2022
lo leí para la fac ni idea
Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews