#dubliners

[mohammedosama91]

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.

Dubliners

لقد أصبحوا جميعًا ظلالًا واحدًا تلو الآخر. من الأفضل أن يمروا بجرأة إلى ذلك العالم الآخر، في مجد بعض الشغف، بدلاً من التلاشي والذبول بشكل كئيب مع تقدم العمر.

سكان دبلن

[verifiedaccount]

She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure, and fixed; and though she knew the small number of his talents she appreciated his abstract value as a male.

“A Mother”

Dubliners

James Joyce

[lets-get-lit]

The light music of whisky falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.

- James Joyce, Dubliners

[tilbageidanmark]

A page from James Joyce’s manuscript for Ulysses

[on-poetry]

In one letter that he had written to her then he had said: “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?”

James Joyce, "The Dead," from Dubliners

[shy-girl04]

Photographer Charlotte-robin

Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory

James Joyce - The Dead, Dubliners

[maxiemartmanager]

[pagesofareader]

"But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingures running upon the wires." - James Joyce, Araby, Dubliners

[siena-sevenwits]

LOOK at the last paragraph of "The Dead" by James Joyce. I can't stop coming back to it over the years. Read it out loud - every word crafted to be so soft, so soft, even onomatopoeic. The story is not a favourite of mine. But this stormin' paragraph. The way the opening words can't help but tap rhythmically, popping with little "p" sounds... And there's no sound in this story, not till this paragraph, because it's a story about people who never listen, and in the end something has shifted in the main character, and he can hear the sound of snow...

"A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. "

[mirthridatism]

[have-you-read-this-short-fiction]

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1916 – Battle of the Somme Ends.

This dreadful battle claimed more Irish lives in combat than any other battle in history. On the first day of battle, 1 July 1916, the 36th Ulster Division suffered an estimated 5,500 casualties almost all of whom were drawn from the north of Ireland. Nearly 2,000 Irish soldiers were killed in the first few hours of fighting following a morning mist that poet Siegfried Sassoon referenced as “of…

[uwmspeccoll]

It’s Fine Press Friday!

This copy of James Joyce’s, Dubliners, with introduction by American academic Thomas Flanagan and photogravures by Irish artist Robert Ballagh (b.1943), was published in 1986 by the Limited Editions Club (LEC), New York, in an edition of one thousand copies signed by Flanagan and Ballagh. It was in 1905 that Joyce first took his manuscript to a publisher, although he had a lot of difficulty finding someone to print his book. After many rejections a publisher accepted but demanded changes, resulting in the termination of their agreement. This drama continued for years until the book was finally published in 1914 by Grant Richards Ltd., London. 

Dubliners is a collection of fifteen short stories that is a portrait of Dublin during a time when Irish nationalism was at its height. Joyce used his own family, friends, and acquaintances to depict the people of Dublin “in all their uniqueness, their generosity, and love of music, as well as their moral confusion and psychic paralysis” (LEC Letter number 547). This psychic and moral paralysis stems from the long history of Ireland’s subordination to British rule. 

Robert Ballagh was born and raised in Dublin and shares Joyce’s fascination with his city. His six photogravures express the sense of isolation and paralysis that exists within the stories. They are velvety and still, and rest alone in the center of the page. They themselves are isolated by the many pages of text that exist between it and the next image.

The type design also illustrates a sense of isolation, with each short story beginning with a title in a single line on the right resting in the expanse of an empty page spread, and after turning the page, another blank page, and opposite to it the beginning of the text with no header, but space for one.  

The type was printed at Wild Carrot Letterpress and Heritage Printers. The text was set in Monotype Scotch by Dan Carr and Julia Ferrari at Golgonooza Letter Foundry. Benjamin Schiff, son of then LEC owner Sidney Schiff, designed the book. The photogravure plates were made by Jon Goodman and printed by Bruce Chandler, Peter Pettengill, Catherine Mosely and Greta Lintvedt. The paper was made at Cartiere Enrico Magnani. The book was hand sewn and bound at the Jovonis Bookbindery in West Springfield, Massachusetts. Our copy is a gift form our friend Jerry Buff.

View more Limited Edition Club posts.

View more Fine Press Friday posts.

– Teddy, Special Collections Graduate Intern.

[cinematic-literature]

Bones and All (2022) by Luca Guadagnino

Book title: Dubliners (1914) by James Joyce

[sublecturas]

"Dublineses", de James Joyce

[thequietabsolute]

Anjelica Huston, in 1968