A brilliant book indeed. For being as short as it is, it contains so much richness. Joyce's command of perspective is astonishing; the way he can get his readers to see the world through the eyes of his protagonist and not their own (and in the third person no less!) is a course of study on its own; the "Christmas dinner" passage toward the beginning is a fine example of this technique.
What's the story behind the seemingly-high price for what looks like a rather worn cheap paperback copy of the novel? Does it have a special provenance—signed, perhaps?
The perspective techniques are what I've taken to the most—how to render inner consciousness from an outer position, and how to swivel between characters within the same scene. Woolf was also a master in this, and Portrait matches her subtlety of style more so than Joyce's later works.
As to the book: it is from the 1948 Penguin Signet reprint, part of (I think) a large re-issue of classics from earlier in the century. That might explain why the cover art seems almost to be fantasy-adjacent. The shop where I bought it, Ulysses Rare Books, was generally a pricier spot because they specialize in, well, rare books. The rarest finds there were first editions of Beckett and Yeats, if I recall correctly.
Have you read Richard Ellman's biography of Joyce? Very fascinating and definitely worth reading if you're into Joyce.
I've been rereading Joyce this year, so this is great to come across. I wrote about A Portrait earlier this year (https://radicaledward.substack.com/p/a-hole-in-the-floor) and have an essay about Ulysses coming in the next few weeks.
What struck me about reading A Portrait this time was how emotionally resonant I found it, which is something I didn't experience when first I read it.
I haven't read that biography, but it'll go on the list. Joyce himself was quite the madcap story, essentially one of his own characters throughout his life.
I like how viscerally you describe Portrait in the essay. Vomiting, eating, tears, and shame down to the bones are all part of it, given how bodily and sensual the novel is. I wrote it more aesthetic-cerebrally, but all those features are part of it (again, the novel contains multitudes). This is definitely part of the emotional resonance, since Stephen is a full-hearted body (however much he'd prefer to only be a mind-soul free of all else).
When will your Ulysses essay appear? I'm curious where you'll take your commentary.
Yeah, highly recommend the Ellman biography! Joyce was certainly something! A bit of a maniac for his own work, much to the hardship of everyone who knew him.
The Ulysses essay will probably go out in two weeks or so. I'm primarily going to focus on the Nausicaa episode and use that as sort of a Rosetta Stone for the rest.
Interesting entry point! Part of what's loveable about that novel is that it has endless back and side doors to enjoy it, if not fully understand it. Nausicaa is such a weird tour-de-force: parody, obscenity, shame, all somehow oddly touching. Looking forward to it!
I think Nausicaa may be the most important part of the novel. Which makes it one of the most important pieces of writing in the 20th Century! But we'll see how well I make my case, haha
I don’t know if you two were aware of each others work before this post but on reading this back and forth it now seems completely obvious to me that you are two peas in a literary pod
An incredibly insightful piece, thank you. This was my favorite book in high school. At the time, I related so closely to Stephen's artistic growth. It was a treat to revisit it.
Thank you for saying so! I definitely felt that same youth-growth-artistry trinity reading it in Dublin, and I'm also glad that revisiting it has added more layers to appreciate a few years on.
Hugely important book. He came before Hem and Miller and Kerouac and influenced all. I’m actually just right now reading Joyce’s collected letters. Absolutely fascinating, especially the years-long drama around non-publication of Dubliners, and of course the naughty letters he wrote to Nora B. throughout 1909. I’ll write about him on my stack soon, I’m sure. There’s also some prescient letters commenting on book banning, and even burning which make me sadly think of our time now on both political sides.
He was definitely a standard-bearer for fiction and for literary expression, courtesy of his legal troubles but ultimate acquittal in the U.S. But to your point around Dubliners, he had faced censorship troubles nearly from the start of his career. He had to become a fighter, in some senses, but he also was lucky for his support system in Paris (Sylvia Beach, for one) who matched his backbone to make Ulysses happen.
What's most touching to me is how hurt he was that his own family members in Dublin wouldn't read Ulysses, or else didn't like it when they did.
I love this piece, precisely because I am godless, and I love writing that gets me into the space of people who believe very differently from me.
Years ago, when I almost converted to Roman Catholicism, I encountered a variety of Catholicism that was radically engaged with literature, beauty, and culture. Engaging in literature, as the writer does here, was a sort of devotion for many of these Catholics. I don’t know if I’ve encountered anything quite like it since, and I appreciate this article for reminding me of that time in my life.
Thanks for saying so, Stephen! As you can probably tell, this novel (and Stephen its center) remains open to those of us on either end of faith. That's one of its great strengths, honestly. It's a mirrored effect: you can access what it's like to believe, and I can access what it's like to de-convert.
A brilliant book indeed. For being as short as it is, it contains so much richness. Joyce's command of perspective is astonishing; the way he can get his readers to see the world through the eyes of his protagonist and not their own (and in the third person no less!) is a course of study on its own; the "Christmas dinner" passage toward the beginning is a fine example of this technique.
What's the story behind the seemingly-high price for what looks like a rather worn cheap paperback copy of the novel? Does it have a special provenance—signed, perhaps?
The perspective techniques are what I've taken to the most—how to render inner consciousness from an outer position, and how to swivel between characters within the same scene. Woolf was also a master in this, and Portrait matches her subtlety of style more so than Joyce's later works.
As to the book: it is from the 1948 Penguin Signet reprint, part of (I think) a large re-issue of classics from earlier in the century. That might explain why the cover art seems almost to be fantasy-adjacent. The shop where I bought it, Ulysses Rare Books, was generally a pricier spot because they specialize in, well, rare books. The rarest finds there were first editions of Beckett and Yeats, if I recall correctly.
Have you read Richard Ellman's biography of Joyce? Very fascinating and definitely worth reading if you're into Joyce.
I've been rereading Joyce this year, so this is great to come across. I wrote about A Portrait earlier this year (https://radicaledward.substack.com/p/a-hole-in-the-floor) and have an essay about Ulysses coming in the next few weeks.
What struck me about reading A Portrait this time was how emotionally resonant I found it, which is something I didn't experience when first I read it.
I haven't read that biography, but it'll go on the list. Joyce himself was quite the madcap story, essentially one of his own characters throughout his life.
I like how viscerally you describe Portrait in the essay. Vomiting, eating, tears, and shame down to the bones are all part of it, given how bodily and sensual the novel is. I wrote it more aesthetic-cerebrally, but all those features are part of it (again, the novel contains multitudes). This is definitely part of the emotional resonance, since Stephen is a full-hearted body (however much he'd prefer to only be a mind-soul free of all else).
When will your Ulysses essay appear? I'm curious where you'll take your commentary.
Yeah, highly recommend the Ellman biography! Joyce was certainly something! A bit of a maniac for his own work, much to the hardship of everyone who knew him.
The Ulysses essay will probably go out in two weeks or so. I'm primarily going to focus on the Nausicaa episode and use that as sort of a Rosetta Stone for the rest.
Interesting entry point! Part of what's loveable about that novel is that it has endless back and side doors to enjoy it, if not fully understand it. Nausicaa is such a weird tour-de-force: parody, obscenity, shame, all somehow oddly touching. Looking forward to it!
Definitely!
I think Nausicaa may be the most important part of the novel. Which makes it one of the most important pieces of writing in the 20th Century! But we'll see how well I make my case, haha
I don’t know if you two were aware of each others work before this post but on reading this back and forth it now seems completely obvious to me that you are two peas in a literary pod
So if this is the first time you’ve substack-met each other then I’m very happy that BTMU was what made it happen!
Definitely looking forward to your Nausicaa-based argument!
Absolutely!! Read his collected letters right now. Wild man. And Nora 1909 letters are...😳😳😳
Like I said, Joyce was like one of his own characters: hilarious, filthy, and impossible to be around.
An incredibly insightful piece, thank you. This was my favorite book in high school. At the time, I related so closely to Stephen's artistic growth. It was a treat to revisit it.
Thank you for saying so! I definitely felt that same youth-growth-artistry trinity reading it in Dublin, and I'm also glad that revisiting it has added more layers to appreciate a few years on.
Hugely important book. He came before Hem and Miller and Kerouac and influenced all. I’m actually just right now reading Joyce’s collected letters. Absolutely fascinating, especially the years-long drama around non-publication of Dubliners, and of course the naughty letters he wrote to Nora B. throughout 1909. I’ll write about him on my stack soon, I’m sure. There’s also some prescient letters commenting on book banning, and even burning which make me sadly think of our time now on both political sides.
Michael Mohr
Sincere American Writing
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
He was definitely a standard-bearer for fiction and for literary expression, courtesy of his legal troubles but ultimate acquittal in the U.S. But to your point around Dubliners, he had faced censorship troubles nearly from the start of his career. He had to become a fighter, in some senses, but he also was lucky for his support system in Paris (Sylvia Beach, for one) who matched his backbone to make Ulysses happen.
What's most touching to me is how hurt he was that his own family members in Dublin wouldn't read Ulysses, or else didn't like it when they did.
I love this piece, precisely because I am godless, and I love writing that gets me into the space of people who believe very differently from me.
Years ago, when I almost converted to Roman Catholicism, I encountered a variety of Catholicism that was radically engaged with literature, beauty, and culture. Engaging in literature, as the writer does here, was a sort of devotion for many of these Catholics. I don’t know if I’ve encountered anything quite like it since, and I appreciate this article for reminding me of that time in my life.
Thanks for saying so, Stephen! As you can probably tell, this novel (and Stephen its center) remains open to those of us on either end of faith. That's one of its great strengths, honestly. It's a mirrored effect: you can access what it's like to believe, and I can access what it's like to de-convert.
I encountered a variety of Catholicism that was radically engaged with literature, beauty, and culture.
This sounds wonderful. Where was this?
I kind of just fell into it. A lot of them were based around the DC area, and Baltimore.
Gold standard reflection, Kevin. I’ve come to expect little else. Slàinte Mhath
Too kind, Adrian. And do dheagh slàinte yourself!