By James Joyce
James Joyce's coming-of-age tale, a journey de strength of fashion and technique
The first, shortest, and so much approachable of James Joyce’s novels, A Portrait of the Artist as a tender Man portrays the Dublin upbringing of Stephen Dedalus, from his younger days at Clongowes wooden university to his radical wondering of all conference. In doing so, it presents an indirect self-portrait of the younger Joyce himself. At its heart lie questions of starting place and resource, authority and authorship, and the connection of an artist to his kinfolk, tradition, and race. Exuberantly artistic widespread, the unconventional subtly and fantastically orchestrates the styles of citation and repetition instrumental in its hero’s quest to create his personal personality, his personal language, existence, and artwork: “to forge within the smithy of my soul the uncreated moral sense of my race.”
This Penguin Classics version is the definitive textual content, licensed by way of the Joyce property and collated from all recognized proofs, manuscripts, and impressions to mirror the author’s unique wishes.
For greater than seventy years, Penguin has been the top writer of vintage literature within the English-speaking global. With greater than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a world bookshelf of the simplest works all through background and throughout genres and disciplines. Readers belief the sequence to supply authoritative texts stronger via introductions and notes by means of exclusive students and modern authors, in addition to up to date translations by means of award-winning translators.
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Additional resources for A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Penguin Classics)
DIEU was the French for God and that was God's name too; and when anyone prayed to God and said DIEU then God knew at once that it was a French person that was praying. But, though there were different names for God in all the different languages in the world and God understood what all the people who prayed said in their different languages, still God remained always the same God and God's real name was God. It made him very tired to think that way. It made him feel his head very big. He turned over the flyleaf and looked wearily at the green round earth in the middle of the maroon clouds.
Wells looked round to see if anyone was coming. Then he said secretly: —You know the altar wine they keep in the press in the sacristy? —Yes. —Well, they drank that and it was found out who did it by the smell. And that's why they ran away, if you want to know. And the fellow who had spoken first said: —Yes, that's what I heard too from the fellow in the higher line. The fellows all were silent. Stephen stood among them, afraid to speak, listening. A faint sickness of awe made him feel weak. How could they have done that?
He turned aside and made the act of spitting. —PHTH! says I to her like that, right into her eye. He clapped his hand to his eye and gave a hoarse scream of pain. —O JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH! says she. I'M BLINDED! I'M BLINDED AND DROWNDED! He stopped in a fit of coughing and laughter, repeating: —I'M BLINDED ENTIRELY. Mr Dedalus laughed loudly and lay back in his chair while uncle Charles swayed his head to and fro. Dante looked terribly angry and repeated while they laughed: —Very nice! Ha! Very nice!
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Penguin Classics) by James Joyce