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A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
A Portrait of the... - SP 2014
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Discussion - Week One - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - Part I - III
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All right, I'm sure I'll have more to say later. Just to get started though, let me say that this is an amazing book.My little personal journey with Joyce so far is this: I first picked up this book to read it over half a lifetime ago... maybe 24 years ago, I'm not sure. I figured I'd probably like it, I was told I'd like it, I thought it would be "modern" and I seemed to like "modern" i.e., early twentieth century modernist things. And I did kind of like it without getting at all deep into it. But somehow didn't connect, didn't follow through, figured I'd read it someday. A decade later, I flirted with a few pages again, and started to think maybe I'll never read it. Again it seemed good to a decent degree, but I felt no compulsion to continue, and I remained in a sort of doubtful state while moving on to other reading material. Why, I don't know. (Oh, and recently I did a bit of the same with Ulysses: peeked, thought maybe another time, never went any depth into it to really get a handle on what I was reading at all).
Now I'm floored, I'm in total awe of this book, and I think that the first half of this little book alone is fully enough to justify Joyce's stellar reputation as an author. Even if the second half of the book were no good, even if Ulysses were nothing but a prank on the world, Joyce could be fairly lauded as a great artist based on the first half of his first book.
So, you could say I'm impressed.
Still I expect contrary opinions, if the conversation is liable to liven up. This time I'm going to have to play Joyce's advocate. (I wasn't expecting this).
Mod
So, you could say I'm impressed.
Still I expect contrary opinions, if the conversation is liable to liven up. This time I'm going to have to play Joyce's advocate. (I wasn't expecting this)..."
Afraid I won't be able to disagree with what you're saying. This is one of those books that can be reread over a lifetime and will reveal something different each time, depending on where you are in your own "portrait". First read for me was age 20. Most recent reread is my fourth time through, and as you say, there is much to admire.
When you finish, I think you will find that APotAaaYM gives you an excellent entry into Ulysses. If time permits when you finish, go straight to the first three chapters of Ulysses and you'll find some amazing continuity in the life story of Stephen, despite the formal challenges of the book.
My aim will be to avoid annotations, endnotes, etc., to the greatest degree possible, but I may bend... we'll see when I get there.
I first read this book 40 years ago. I thought it was brilliant then, and I still think it is brilliant, but I suspect I see different things in it now. I originally read it for a college class, and we moved on to Ullyses the next week. I loved both books, but "Portrait" was much more accessible.
Okay, so I mentioned my reaction, but so far haven't done any actual book discussion. To start, it seems to me that the author sincerely understands both faith and doubt, and he honestly expresses both. I can see this book inspiring religious thoughts in an atheist and doubt in a faithful Catholic. I can only suppose one of two explanations:-He has been profoundly faithful and atheistic himself at various times in his life, so he can relate his own struggles with faith and doubt.
-He has an incredible intellectual capacity to enter into a very speculative thought process, getting into characters' minds. Perhaps he could have been a mostly doubting student with his own struggles through parochial school, but he knew or knew of some Dedalus-like person, and his curiosity about what makes the truly devout think and how he might overcome his own sinful temptations enabled Joyce to craft a character of genuine depth.
This isn't limited to religion, though. I felt that Joyce very effectively got me to understand and sympathize with all parties to the highly contentious Christmas dinner fiasco, and he even got me to see some reflections of my own experience to some extent despite my life being so very different in the details.
Another point: Chapter three is effectively suspenseful in getting us to wonder if Stephen will confess and find grace, or avoid confession and even respond to his own spiritual struggles by immediately plunging into greater sin. The success of this chapter is abetted by the arbitrariness of how Stephen handled his dilemma of Chapter one: when he ponders whether to go to the Rector to report his unfair paddling, he convinces us and himself that he will not go to the rector's office, but on autocruise he does what he thought he could not... and we can strongly get the impression of the arbitrariness of human decision making in general, in addition to this character's specific manner of handling dilemmas. It preps us to experience the greater doubt and anxiety to come, and it plays out perfectly.
I've never read APotAaaYM, and have only flirted with Ulysses, so keep that in mind when considering my opinions.One of the first things I thought about upon reading that Stephen went to a Jesuit school was the quote attributed to Francis Xavier "Give me a child until he is seven, and I will give you the man." Xavier clearly sides with the Nurture camp when it comes to the Nature/Nurture continuum.
But what about Stephen, who falls outside of Xavier's sweet spot for creating fearful Jesuits? Without the surety that Xavier's ideal child would be given from birth, Stephen seems to be a mass of conflicting emotions. He seems to bounce between burning desire on the one hand and fear and guilt on the other. The great suspense for me is how (if?!?) Stephen will resolve his conflict.
Chapter 3 has been the best part of the book (so far) for me. It created a very empathetic feeling in me for Stephen: a young man burning up with desire, fearful of Arnall's vision of hell, wanting to be worthy of Mary's love and grace. While I'm neither Catholic nor a believer, the effect was powerful nonetheless.
Goodread!
This is my introduction to Joyce and although the first few pages were difficult, I am getting the rhythm of the style and loving it. I'll post a more detailed review of the actual book once I'm a little farther on... I also wanted to say that I am glad I joined this group and although the books are sometimes challenging, the quantity and quality of my reading has greatly improved Since joining. Thank you for all you do, Jim!
Mod
De nada...
Glad you're enjoying Joyce! (view spoiler)
If I recall, you're familiar with South American politics. In your reading of this book so far, have you sensed that the social control/influence of the church on Joyce's Ireland is in any way similar to church control/influence on South American politics? In other words, does Christianity assert its power in similar ways in different times and places?
Additional questions for possible discussion: How did you feel about Stephen Dedalus's extreme sensitivity, especially in his earlier childhood?
How did you feel about his somewhat cynical turn and restrained sensitivity?
And how did you feel about narrative ellipses (where narrative material that could form links or transitions is omitted)?
Mod
And how did you feel about narrative ellipses (where narrative material that could form links or transitions is omitted)? ..."
The ellipses worked very well in Part I - at school thinking about the holidays, jump to Christmas dinner at home, jump back to school. Moves the narrative along at a nice brisk pace. No need to see the whole departure from school, the train trip home, the joyous welcome home, etc... These jumps are a nice feature of the Modernist movement.
I first read Portrait in 1975 for a Uni course and loved it. I read Ulysses a few years ago post-GR and am now really looking forward to re-reading Portrait with this group.
Mod
It's great throughout, but I suspect you'll particularly enjoy rereading Part III and the visions of hell described by the Jesuit.
I think I'm almost there. The novel is far more sophisticated than I recall, almost anticipatory of the stylistic variety and innovation of Ulysses.
Mod
Very much so. As I suggested to Zadignose above, if you have the time, reread the first three chapters of Ulysses when you finish this book. The continuity is wonderful...
I've previously made the mistake of thinking they're chalk and cheese.
Mod
Mix those up and you either have a terrible taste in your mouth, or a drawing that's hard to erase...
BTW, is giving the failed nun the name, "Dante", overkill, sly, or jolly good fun?
Jim wrote: "BTW, is giving the failed nun the name, "Dante", overkill, sly, or jolly good fun?"Although it's not pronounced the same, I wonder whether there's any link to the German word for aunt, Tante, which is also used for older women in authority, e.g., the Joyce's governess, upon whom Dante is apparently based. Otherwise I would always err on the side of sly and jolly good fun with Joyce.
Jim wrote: "When you finish, I think you will find that APotAaaYM gives you an excellent entry into Ulysses. If time permits when you finish, go straight to the first three chapters of Ulysses and you'll find some amazing continuity in the life story of Stephen, despite the formal challenges of the book."That was on my mind from the first chapter of this book.
I read Ulysses last year, and my re-reading of Portrait last week (for the first time in a couple of decades) made it feel like a prequel.
I don't have much to say about Portrait. I found it immensely enjoyable, as I did the first time I read it. I still find the fire-and-brimstone speech to be unnerving, both for the raw damnation of it, and for the guile of the Jesuits in predicting the arguments a layman would use to discredit a doctrine of Hell.
Jim wrote: "When you finish, I think you will find that APotAaaYM gives you an excellent entry into Ulysses. "My recollection of Portrait was that it was stylistically heterogeneous, but that was clearly wrong. I loved how each chapter assumed a style appropriate to the age or environment of Stephen at the time. This is a definite precursor to Ulysses, even if here there is a greater sense of chronological progression.
Jim, I must compliment you on the timing of this read. I finished reading and posted my review [my] yesterday, only to realise serendipitously that [my] yesterday was Joyce's birthday. What a fitting use of the day!
I was going to say, re--the ellipses, that they seemed to serve at least two purposes:1) There's the story-telling purpose, in that we omit what is not necessary for the furtherance of the story, and generally keep it punchy.
2) There's the related--but not necessarily the same--purpose of giving us the perspective of a character looking back who has only retained strong memories of certain details... and who is somewhat bewildered, as we are, in thinking "how did I get from there to here." Even as an adolescent, he desires to rekindle his youthful idealism, at the same time that it might shame him a bit to do so, and as much as he is aware that he was always a bit out of sync with some of the cruelties of reality.
There's something attractive and repellent about the extreme sensitivity of a young child who is ideal and naive.
Zadignose wrote: "There's something attractive and repellent about the extreme sensitivity of a young child who is ideal and naive. "Do you think the story-telling is retrospective or contemporaneous?As I re-read it, I felt that the style matched the age or experience.
The first page also reminded me of Swann's Way, with its mention of Stephen's bed and mother. Perhaps, it shares this sensitivity with Proust?
Young Stephen is sensitive to the point of displaying symptoms of a generalized anxiety disorder. Then, when he starts feeling really guilty, he seems to suffer from OCD.
Do you think this sort of temperament finds solace in religion, or is the temperament in Stephen partly a product of his movement away from religion?
Mod
Casceil/Ian: I don't know that I would try to diagnose him with a specific disorder, but certainly he is a sensitive soul. What I got from the reading is that he was maybe a bit smaller and physically weaker than his schoolmates and dreaded his time on the sports field due to a lack of skill/interest. The hazing from being thrown into the ditch; being the youngest witness to the political battle at Christmas dinner; being unfairly pandied by the priest for having broken glasses; being scared of the whores, but secretly visiting them repeatedly; the fear instilled by the priest re: the suffering of the wicked in hell; his shyness around women - all these things add up to a sensitive, smallish boy jostled and bounced around in a rough and tumble working class world. In all of these scenes, he is at the mercy of others and the anxiety perhaps arises from this lack of control. Or something like that...
Ian wrote: "Do you think the story-telling is retrospective or contemporaneous?As I re-read it, I felt that the style matched the age or experience." It seemed to be both. The impression in each passage seems contemporaneous because it's so aware of the feelings, thoughts, and impressions of the time, but then the fragmentation and also something in the cyclical and repetitive nature of language suggests that we're only getting those pieces of his life which were remembered as significant to his later development. Something of the nature of personal memory which carries very strong impressions.
It's almost like flashbacks maintained in mostly chronological order with no frame except for the book covers... a.k.a. pseudo-memoir with a theme and minus the boring bits.
The first page also reminded me of Swann's Way, with its mention of Stephen's bed and mother. Perhaps, it shares this sensitivity with Proust?
"
I now cannot remember whether I thought this independently or whether your post put it into my head and I unconsciously adopted it. Probably the latter.
Zadignose wrote: "Okay, so I mentioned my reaction, but so far haven't done any actual book discussion. To start, it seems to me that the author sincerely understands both faith and doubt, and he honestly expresses ..."I think it helps in trying to understand Joyce's/Stephen's attitude toward religion to look back at Dubliners too.
In the first paragraph of The Sisters the boy says: "...I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse." Then in Grace - the original last story - Mr Kernan, being talked into going on 'retreat' by his friends, agrees finally, but adds a stipulation:
--No, damn it all, said Mr Kernan sensibly, I draw the line there. I'll do the job right enough. I'll do the retreat business and confession, and ... all that business. But...no candles! No, damn it all, I bar the candles!
He shook his head with farcical gravity.
--Listen to that! said his wife.
--I bar the candles, said Mr Kernan, conscious of having created an effect on his audience and continuing to shake his head to and fro. I bar the magic-lantern business.
So in Dubliners the boy's "must" evolves to become the adult's "no": rejecting superstition. Much like Santayana's prohibition: "no magic monsters." Then in A Portrait a much more detailed "rejection story" is told.
Zadignose wrote: "Additional questions for possible discussion: How did you feel about Stephen Dedalus's extreme sensitivity, especially in his earlier childhood?
How did you feel about his somewhat cynical turn..."
Over the years the ellipse question has gotten a fair amount of "play" in Joyce criticism. Critics often accuse Joyce of deliberately withholding information that they feel would be helpful to the reader. I never felt that there was anything missing from the narrative.
Zadignose wrote: "I was going to say, re--the ellipses, that they seemed to serve at least two purposes:1) There's the story-telling purpose, in that we omit what is not necessary for the furtherance of the story,..."
I like very much the idea, if I understand it correctly, that the ellipses represent, sort of, spaces for less vivid, less necessary to the narrative, memories.
Ian wrote: "Do you think this sort of temperament finds solace in religion, or is the temperament in Stephen partly a product of his movement away from religion?"I think Stephen's sensitivity is an essential component of the mind and soul that will become the artist's.
Brain Pain
Books mentioned in this topic
Dubliners (other topics)Ulysses (other topics)
Part I – We met young Stephen Dedalus at boarding school, counting the days ‘til he’ll be home for the holidays with his family. Jump-cut to Christmas dinner where Stephen witnesses a great political divide within his own family, and by extension, within his nation. Back at school, Stephen gets a first-hand lesson – on both hands – about justice and injustice.
Part II – The family’s fortunes take a turn for the worse. Stephen finds himself in a new home and with new desires as nature stirs him down below…
Part III – Young Stephen is torn apart by the lust of his flesh and the fear that eternal damnation awaits his corrupted soul – and Father Arnall’s sermons aren’t helping at all!
To avoid spoilers, please limit your comments to p. 1 - 158