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    The Dead: Short Story
    The Dead: Short Story
    The Dead: Short Story
    Ebook64 pages1 hour

    The Dead: Short Story

    By James Joyce

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    About this ebook

    A shocking confession from his wife prompts Gabriel to reconsider what he knows and understands of his wife and their shared past, whether it is better to die young, and what will be remembered of him when he is gone.

    Critically acclaimed author James Joyce’s Dubliners is a collection of short stories depicting middle class life in Dublin in the early twentieth century. First published in 1914, the stories draw on themes relevant to the time such as nationalism and Ireland’s national identity, and cement Joyce’s reputation for brutally honest and revealing depictions of everyday Irish life. At the heart of each story is a character’s moment of self-realization which serve to further heighten our understanding of life in James Joyce’s Dublin.

    HarperCollins brings great works of literature to life in digital format, upholding the highest standards in ebook production and celebrating reading in all its forms. Look for more titles in the HarperCollins short-stories collection to build your digital library.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateJan 29, 2013
    ISBN9781443423311
    The Dead: Short Story
    Author

    James Joyce

    James Joyce was born in Dublin in 1882. He came from a reasonably wealthy family which, predominantly because of the recklessness of Joyce's father John, was soon plunged into financial hardship. The young Joyce attended Clongowes College, Belvedere College and, eventually, University College, Dublin. In 1904 he met Nora Barnacle, and eloped with her to Croatia. From this point until the end of his life, Joyce lived as an exile, moving from Trieste to Rome, and then to Zurich and Paris. His major works are Dubliners (1914), A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916), Ulysses (1922) and Finnegan's Wake (1939). He died in 1941, by which time he had come to be regarded as one of the greatest novelists the world ever produced.

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    • 5/5
      An extraordinary piece of fiction which starts off being about one thing, then turns into a story about something else, but then turns in a completely different story. Joyce does this in a seamless way that makes it seem inevitable. The very end is devastating.
    • 5/5
      The Dead is the final story of Joyce's Dubliners and that works crowning achievement. It is considered one of the finest short stories ever written. The main character is essentially a man that Joyce might have become had he stayed in Ireland instead of living his life as an exile. Joyce of course would become the world class author and would be immortalized in his works. This is the underlying theme of the Dead. Everyone in the Dead is of course Dead, never actually having really existed, but the fact that you read the story breathes life into the work and thus gives immortality to the author (who is not dead symbolically). Thus the Dead deals with a common Joycean theme, that true immortality is not achieved through a fantasy afterlife, it is achieved here and now through immortal art.
    • 4/5
      This was a good introduction to James Joyce. Short yet enticing. Joyce is indeed a master of words and tells a story without embellishment. Despite its melancholy tone, The Dead leaves one with a feeling of hope. Gabriel Conroy might have been a smug, hypocritical and somewhat shallow character, but the eerie ending with the snow falling "upon all the living and the dead" sets the stage for Gabriel's second epiphany. It lets the reader know that he has undergone a transformation that just might allow him to have a genuine connection to his wife.
    • 1/5
      Utterly boring, mannered, nothing happens until the last few pages and the translation is abysmal. Don't even get close to it.NOTE: after seeing the rattings given by everybody else, I am starting to think I missed something. I still remember it as extremely boring.
    • 3/5
      Given its status as runaway bestseller, I found this somewhat unimpressive. The storyline is captivating and the history and art are definitely thought-provoking. But this simply isn't a gripping tale.
    • 5/5
      Nothing more needs to be said other than that this is greatest short story written in the English language. Repeated readings reveal more subtlities.
    • 4/5
      First James Joyce book I’ve ever read. Wasn’t what I was expecting. Really liked the style of writing.
    • 5/5
      It was the annual dance of Kate and Julia Morkan, otherwise known as Aunt Kate and Aunt Julia, two small plainly-dressed old women”” Mary Jane was their only niece and Gabriel Conroy their favourite nephew. It was a musical family. Julia was a leading soprano, and Kate gave music lessons to beginners. Everybody came to the dance, including members of Julia’s choir, any of Kate’s pupils that were old enough, and some of Mary Janes’ pupils. Lily, the caretaker’s daughter, did housemaid’s work for Julia and Kate, and, tonight, answered the door and helped the gentlemen guests off with their overcoats. It was a cold winter’s night and it was snowing. Gabriel was a “”stout, tallish young man”; his wife was called Gretta. Gabriel and Gretta are not going back home tonight, but have booked a room at a hotel nearby. There was a man called Freddy present who was often quite drunk, but he wasn’t too inebriated on this occasion. Gabriel was mostly focussed on preparing in his head the speech he was going to make later and wondering whether he should quote Browning or not. In a week or so Freddy was going to stay in a monastery. The monks never spoke, and slept in their coffins to remind themselves ”of their last end” and to make up for the sins committed by all the sinners in the outside world. In his speech, Gabriel says they should cherish in their hearts “”the memory of those dead and gone great ones whose fame the world will not willingly let die”. He calls the aunts and Mary Jane the “Three Graces of the Dublin musical world”, and toasts them all three. Gabriel and his wife leave. Gabriel is happy and recalls the moments of their life together tht no one knew of or would ever know of”. He longed to remind his wife of their moments of ecstasy. In a letter to her he had written “Why is it that words like these seem to me so dull nd cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?” They took a cab to their hotel. He felt lustful; he felt that they had run away together “with wild and radiant hearts to a new adventure”. Suddenly she came over to him and kissed him. “His heart was brimming over with happiness.” Gretta was thinking about a song that had been sung at the party – “The Lass of Aughrim”, and then she began to cry. She was thinking of a person long ago who used to sing that song. Ganriel becoms angry. “Someone you were in love with?” he asks ironically. It was a young boy called Michael Furey. He was very delicate and had big, dark eyes. She used to go walking with him. Gabriel becomes jealous now. He is dead, died when only seventeen. While Gabriel had been full of memories of their secret life together, Gretta had been comparing him to another. The boy was ill, in decline; Gretta wrote to him and said she was going to Dublin (to a convent), and would be back in the summer. The night before she left, she heard gravel being thrown against the window, and it was he, Michael, shivering in the rain. He said he did not want to live. After she had only been a week in the convent, he died. She sobbed and fell sleep. The boy had died for her sake. Gabriel thought about how Aunt Julia too would soon be a “shade””. “One by one, they were all becoming shades.” “Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.” Gabriel’s eyes filled with tears. He had never himself felt like the boy did towards any woman, and he knew that feeling must be love. Gabriel’s soul had approached “that region where dwelt --- the dead””. He felt like the “solid world” was “dissolving and dwindling”. The snow was falling over all Ireland, also on the lonely churchyard where Michael Furey was buried. The snow was falling “upon all the living and the dead”. Thus Gabriel’s lust changed to anger, then jealousy, and finally to compassion for the dead young man, compassion for his love, and loss of the girl, Gretta, now Gabriel’s wife., and her loss of him. I found this to be a wonderfully expressed story, full of emotion and understanding. Gabriel had found new empathy for the dead and for those left behind.
    • 5/5
      Synopsis“The Dead” by James Joyce is a book that works on several levels. You can read a detailed synopsis at “End Notes”. I will, however, write a synopsis of the synopsis. I was left with a few questions. Is it just about the dead, or is it also about remembrance? Do the Dead come to life? When do we die? It is a short story. Most of the story takes place over dinner, at a social event of, Christmas. The misses Morkan’s have invited everyone for the “annual dance”. Their nephew, Gabriel and his wife, Gretta, are the favored guests. Gabriel is the master of ceremonies. He is pompous and does not think much of his fellow guests. He gives a speech ruffling no feathers. After dinner, Gabriel notices his wife listening as Bartell D’Arcy, accompanied by Miss O’Callaghan at the piano, sings a traditional Irish song— “The Lass of Aughrim.” Later, when he and Gretta return to a hotel, he is overcome with passion for her. She, however, is lost in the past. The song has brought back memories of her teenage years, and a young boy, Michael Furey, who died of a broken heart for her. Gabriel is left to stew in his own juice and is forced to evaluate their marriage and what it means.My ReviewIt is a short book, as I wrote earlier. “The Dead” is a finely layered book. At one level, we get a clear understanding of Gabriel’s character. He is pompous and carries himself with an air of superiority.It paints a picture of a social event hosted by three aging ladies, and the conversations and conventions that we observe at such events. It paints a picture of Gabriel and Gretta’s relationship. Are they as happy as they seem to be? It forces the reader to ask: are we as happy in our relationships as we believe? None of us will know for sure. Love and death are two themes that James Joyce explores skillfully. You are unlikely to forget your first love, especially if that person died of a broken heart for you. Indians who have seen the Hindi film, “Devdas”, will attest to the enduring appeal of a love story that ends with one person dying of a broken heart. I find “Devdas” melodramatic. James Joyce has written about Gretta’s love beautifully. Finally, the dead. When do the dead leave us? When we forget them, I suppose. James Joyce hints at our complex relationship with death when the conversations veers to the monks who sleep in their coffins. They are preparing for what is coming, as the conversation goes. Finally, the memory of Michael Furey comes back with a vengeance. He seems to come to life to wedge himself between husband and wife. We never discover if this wedge has now become permanent. Is their marriage ruined beyond repair? Can Gabriel to work to repair any past damage or fill a void in their marriage? We can speculate. We are, however, left with the dead. The Dead seem to live within us. Is this what remembrance is about? When do they leave us?
    • 5/5
      "Why is it that words like these seem to me so dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?"

    Book preview

    The Dead - James Joyce

    Book Cover

    THE DEAD

    James Joyce

    HarperPerennialClassicsLogo

    CONTENTS

    Cover

    Title Page

    The Dead

    About the Author

    About the Series

    Other Works

    Copyright

    About the Publisher

    The Dead

    Lily, the caretaker’s daughter, was literally run off her feet. Hardly had she brought one gentleman into the little pantry behind the office on the ground floor and helped him off with his overcoat than the wheezy hall doorbell clanged again and she had to scamper along the bare hallway to let in another guest. It was well for her she had not to attend to the ladies also. But Miss Kate and Miss Julia had thought of that and had converted the bathroom upstairs into a ladies’ dressing room. Miss Kate and Miss Julia were there, gossiping and laughing and fussing, walking after each other to the head of the stairs, peering down over the banisters and calling down to Lily to ask her who had come.

    It was always a great affair, the Misses Morkan’s annual dance. Everybody who knew them came to it, members of the family, old friends of the family, the members of Julia’s choir, any of Kate’s pupils that were grown up enough, and even some of Mary Jane’s pupils too. Never once had it fallen flat. For years and years it had gone off in splendid style, as long as anyone could remember; ever since Kate and Julia, after the death of their brother Pat, had left the house in Stoney Batter and taken Mary Jane, their only niece, to live with them in the dark, gaunt house on Usher’s Island, the upper part of which they had rented from Mr. Fulham, the corn factor on the ground floor. That was a good thirty years ago if it was a day. Mary Jane, who was then a little girl in short clothes, was now the main prop of the household, for she had the organ in Haddington Road. She had been through the Academy and gave a pupils’ concert every year in the upper room of the Antient Concert Rooms. Many of her pupils belonged to the better class families on the Kingstown and Dalkey line. Old as they were, her aunts also did their share. Julia, though she was quite grey, was still the leading soprano in Adam and Eve’s, and Kate, being too feeble to go about much, gave music lessons to beginners on the old square piano in the back room. Lily, the caretaker’s daughter, did housemaid’s work for them. Though their life was modest, they believed in eating well; the best of everything: diamond bone sirloins, three-shilling tea and the best bottled stout. But Lily seldom made a mistake in the orders, so that she got on well with her three mistresses. They were fussy, that was all. But the only thing they would not stand was back answers.

    Of course, they had good reason to be fussy on such a night. And then it was long after ten o’clock and yet there was no sign of Gabriel and his wife. Besides they were dreadfully afraid that Freddy Malins might turn up screwed. They would not wish for worlds that any of Mary Jane’s pupils should see him under the influence; and when he was like that it was sometimes very hard to manage him. Freddy Malins always came late, but they wondered what could be keeping Gabriel: and that was what brought them every two minutes to the banisters to ask Lily had Gabriel or Freddy come.

    O, Mr. Conroy, said Lily to Gabriel when she opened the door for him, Miss Kate and Miss Julia thought you were never coming. Good night, Mrs. Conroy.

    I’ll engage they did, said Gabriel, but they forget that my wife here takes three mortal hours to dress herself.

    He stood on the mat, scraping the snow from his goloshes, while Lily led his wife to the foot of the stairs and called out:

    Miss Kate, here’s Mrs. Conroy.

    Kate and Julia came toddling down the dark stairs at once. Both of them kissed Gabriel’s wife, said she must be perished alive, and asked was Gabriel with her.

    Here I am as right as the mail, Aunt Kate! Go on up. I’ll follow, called out Gabriel from the dark.

    He continued scraping his feet vigorously while the three women went upstairs, laughing, to the ladies’ dressing room. A light fringe of snow lay like a cape on the shoulders of his overcoat and like toecaps on the toes of his goloshes; and, as the buttons of his overcoat slipped with a squeaking noise through the snow-stiffened frieze, a cold, fragrant air from out-of-doors escaped from crevices and folds.

    "Is it snowing again, Mr.

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