My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Even if Joyce´s books are not easy to be read, I liked this book in some way, even if my knowledge of Greek mythology is very poor.
Setephen Dedalus is my name, Ireland is my nation. Clongowes is my dwelling place. And heaven my expectation.
In any case Byron was a heretic and immoral too.
Some of the boys had then asked the priest if Victor Hugo were not the greatest French writer. The priest had answered that Victor Hugo had never written half so well when he had turned against the church as he had written when he was a catholic.
To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and constantly to express, to press out again, from the gross earth or what it brings forth, from sound and shape and colour which are the prison gates of our soul, an image of the beauty we have come to understand – that is art.
Art, said Stephen, is the human disposition of sensible or intelligible matter for an esthetic end.
The simplest epical form is seen emerging out of lyrical literature when the artist prolongs and broods upon himself as the centre of an epical event and this form progresses till the centre of emotional gravity is equidistant from the artist himself and from others. The narrative is no longer purely personal. The personality of the artist passes into the narration itself, flowing round and round the persons and the action like a vital sea.
The artist, like the God of creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, parting his fingernails.
- A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man – James Joyce (andrewhenleywriting.wordpress.com)
- Where James Joyce Fails, Neil Gaiman Prevails (sairyou.me)
- A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce (pbrigitte.wordpress.com)