I can still hear bagpipes...

To my own surprise, I did not find the novel itself all that difficult. The plot, major themes and symbols (or maybe they are motifs…I should consult a dictionary) are really easy to identify. That is, of course, assuming I didn’t completely overlook something…

For anyone unfamiliar with A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, here is as brief a summary as I can provide…
Stephen Dedalus is the oldest son in a strict Catholic family in Ireland at the turn of the century. Simon Dedalus, Stephen’s father, either doesn’t make any money or can’t properly handle it because the family is constantly moving to slummier and slummier places and Stephen must attend progressively less prestigious (and eventually free) schools. Throughout the novel, Stephen becomes more and more alienated from his family and struggles with his religious beliefs. While living in Dublin, Stephen loses his virginity to a hooker. While immediately guilt-stricken, Stephen chooses to ignore this guilt and goes on a sin bender which lasts until he attends a three day religious retreat during which he hears sermons on judgment and the torments of hell. These sermons scare Stephen back into not just a pious life, but one of such extreme devotion that he is offered a career in the priesthood. While considering this option, Stephen is checking out some girl who’s chillin on the beach and has an epiphany. He decides to devote his life to art and the pursuit of beauty. Disregarding religion and his family’s wishes, Stephen attends a university where he forms his ideas of art and aesthetics. While at school, he has a seriously long conversation about aesthetics with a friend of his; there were a lot of propositions and I couldn’t follow. Desirous of a life completely free from the constraints of society, Stephen ultimately decides he will leave Ireland to pursue his life as an artist.

After a friend of mine suffered some recent author backlash I’m a little nervous to continue…but I doubt James Joyce will come back from the dead to tell me I’m an idiot so here come my issues…

• Stream of consciousness. I’m not going to be able to accurately explain my problem, but I have one. And I know it will continue to rear its ugly head because I still have to read Ulysses and more Virginia Woolf and a craptastic (don’t stone me) bunch of Faulkner, so hopefully I can get it all out now. I guess I just have a really hard time buying it. I do understand that Portrait is largely Joyce’s autobiography and he is the only one who can authentically narrate Stephen’s inner monologue. So maybe it is the third person narration. I know I bring my own mistrust of the narrator to any story I read, so perhaps that is what causes my dislike of stream of consciousness. Hell if I know.

• Is it just me, or is this novel way too easy to figure out? Theme: The Downfalls Religious Extremism. Stephen’s upbringing leads him to go from a sin binge to religious fanaticism, neither of which stick. Theme: Irish Sovereignty. Or rather, the need for it. Near the end of the novel Stephen discusses how English is a borrowed language; he refuses to accept the position of his ancestors and realizes he must leave Ireland in order to find his/Ireland’s true identity and voice. Theme: Evolution of Individual Perspective. I’m not sure that’s a correct name, but Stephen spends the novel developing his own mind/thoughts/beliefs/individuality. As Stephen develops and matures, so does the language of the novel. Theme: The Function of the Artist. To become a true artist Stephen must leave everything behind and form his own artistic voice. That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with these themes; as far as fundamental ideas of a novel go, these are some great ones. But they are so obvious that I was left searching for some deeper meaning.

• Reading Portrait is exhausting! Part of that has to do with the style in which it is written. Stream of consciousness narration is designed to be confusing and difficult to understand. The reader must piece apart the internal monologue of the character in order to stay abreast of the action in the novel. That takes work and concentration that I just don’t often have. Also, several years pass during the course of the novel and it is left to the reader to determine the time lapses. I don’t like working that hard for my literature.


On the subject of things I did enjoy…

• I appreciate the significance of Stephen’s name. His full name, Stephen Dedalus, is a play on the two sides of him. Several times throughout the novel Stephen repeats his name as if searching for his identity. This too is incredibly obvious but I can dig it.

• The language progression of the novel. As Stephen matures, so does the writing. Because Joyce employed stream of consciousness, it seems obvious that Stephen’s inner monologue and descriptions would progress as he does, but this must have been an incredible task for Joyce. I appreciate it.


Reading Portrait now, out of a college atmosphere and with the time to absorb and consider what I was reading, I definitely liked the novel more that I remember. Sadly, that’s not saying a whole lot. I feel like throwing up my hands and saying, “I don’t get it!” Except that I do. I definitely do. It’s not that difficult to get. What I don’t get is the awesomeness of it. I don’t think it’s awesome. I think it’s tiresome. On the upside, I know where to go for a fantastic description of the fiery torments of hell. And everyone needs a good hellfire sermon every now and then.


Slaughterhouse Five, anyone?