Re-Joyce at Christmas
I spent Sunday enjoying one of my favorite Christmas traditions. I curled up on the couch and re-read “The Dead,” the final story in James Joyce’s “The Dubliners.” I love the story because of its prose, its melacholy and its relative accessibility.
But mostly I love it because it’s one of the few Joyce works in which he openly misses Ireland. Though he spent most his adulthood in bitter, self-imposed exile, “The Dead” allows Joyce to surrender himself to the longings of family, music and home during the holidays. If a cynic like Joyce can’t overcome Christmastime nostalgia, what chance do the rest of us have?