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Dubliners von Joyce, James (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 18.04.2017
  • Verlag: Sheba Blake Publishing
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Dubliners

Dubliners is a collection of fifteen short stories by James Joyce. They form a naturalistic depiction of Irish middle class life in and around Dublin in the early years of the 20th century. The stories were written when Irish nationalism was at its peak, and a search for a national identity and purpose was raging; at a crossroads of history and culture, Ireland was jolted by various converging ideas and influences. They centre on Joyce's idea of an epiphany: a moment where a character experiences a life-changing self-understanding or illumination. Many of the characters in Dubliners later appear in minor roles in Joyce's novel Ulysses. The initial stories in the collection are narrated by child protagonists, and as the stories continue, they deal with the lives and concerns of progressively older people. This is in line with Joyce's tripartite division of the collection into childhood, adolescence and maturity. As part of our mission to publish great works of literary fiction and nonfiction, Sheba Blake Publishing has begun its publishing empire with some of the most popular and beloved classic eBooks and Paperbacks. We are extremely dedicated to bringing to the forefront the amazing works of long dead and truly talented authors. Sheba Blake Publishing has created its collection of numerous classic eBooks and Paperbacks, specifically dedicated to bringing back in eBook and Paperback form works of worthy authors. Included in our current and forthcoming list of some 450 titles includes A Christmas Carol, A Journey to the Center of the Earth, A Martian Odyssey, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Cinderella and the list continues. The process to convert and distribute our eBook and Paperback titles can be quite time consuming, but the work is beyond worth the effort, with us having some of the most colorful and delightful covers you have seen in a while. We also hope to eventually add print books to our beautiful catalogue. Our works are made available to the reading public in the form of eBooks compatible with all currently available eBook platforms, distributed both directly from Sheba Blake Publishing's website and through various eBook resellers including iBookstore, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and many more. Sheba Blake Publishing is like our second child, it's very dear to us and we want more than anything to see it succeed and send it off into the world like the proud mama's we are! Sheba Blake Publishing is slowly becoming a beautiful reality to all readers. We greatly appreciate ANY and ALL support that has been given to us, and we love all of those dreaming readers who continue to purchase our titles and help us grow.

Produktinformationen

    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: none
    Seitenzahl: 148
    Erscheinungsdatum: 18.04.2017
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9783961892914
    Verlag: Sheba Blake Publishing
    Größe: 269 kBytes
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Dubliners

THE SISTERS

THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: "I am not long for this world," and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.

Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came downstairs to supper. While my aunt was ladling out my stirabout he said, as if returning to some former remark of his:

"No, I wouldn't say he was exactly... but there was something queer... there was something uncanny about him. I'll tell you my opinion...."

He began to puff at his pipe, no doubt arranging his opinion in his mind. Tiresome old fool! When we knew him first he used to be rather interesting, talking of faints and worms; but I soon grew tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery.

"I have my own theory about it," he said. "I think it was one of those ... peculiar cases .... But it's hard to say...."

He began to puff again at his pipe without giving us his theory. My uncle saw me staring and said to me:

"Well, so your old friend is gone, you'll be sorry to hear."

"Who?" said I.

"Father Flynn."

"Is he dead?"

"Mr. Cotter here has just told us. He was passing by the house."

I knew that I was under observation so I continued eating as if the news had not interested me. My uncle explained to old Cotter.

"The youngster and he were great friends. The old chap taught him a great deal, mind you; and they say he had a great wish for him."

"God have mercy on his soul," said my aunt piously.

Old Cotter looked at me for a while. I felt that his little beady black eyes were examining me but I would not satisfy him by looking up from my plate. He returned to his pipe and finally spat rudely into the grate.

"I wouldn't like children of mine," he said, "to have too much to say to a man like that."

"How do you mean, Mr. Cotter?" asked my aunt.

"What I mean is," said old Cotter, "it's bad for children. My idea is: let a young lad run about and play with young lads of his own age and not be... Am I right, Jack?"

"That's my principle, too," said my uncle. "Let him learn to box his corner. That's what I'm always saying to that Rosicrucian there: take exercise. Why, when I was a nipper every morning of my life I had a cold bath, winter and summer. And that's what stands to me now. Education is all very fine and large.... Mr. Cotter might take a pick of that leg mutton," he added to my aunt.

"No, no, not for me," said old Cotter.

My aunt brought the dish from the safe and put it on the table.

"But why do you think it's not good for children, Mr. Cotter?" she asked.

"It's bad for children," said old Cotter, "because their mind are so impressionable. When children see things like that, you know, it has an effect...."

I crammed my mouth with stirabout for fear I might give utterance to my anger. Tiresome old red-nosed imbecile!

It was late when I fell asleep. Though I was angry with old Cotter for alluding to me as a child, I puzzled my head to extract meaning from his unfinished sentences. In the dark of my room I imagined that I saw again the heavy grey face of the para

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