1 - A NORTON CRITICAL EDITION James Joyce DUB LINERS Ab AUTHORITATIVE TEXT CON TEXTS CRITICISM Baa-tea 27y MARGOT NORRIS UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

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Unformatted text preview: A NORTON CRITICAL EDITION James Joyce DUB LINERS Ab AUTHORITATIVE TEXT CON TEXTS CRITICISM Baa-tea? 27y MARGOT NORRIS UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, IRVINE Text Ea’iteal by HANS WALTER GABLER WITH WALTER HETTCHE E W. W. NORTON & COMPANY ' New Yark ' London W. W. Norton & Company has been independent since its founding in 1923, when William VVarder Norton and Mary D. Herter Norton first published lectures delivered at the People’s Institute, the adult education division of NewYork City’s Cooper Union. The Nortons soon expanded their program beyond the Institute, publishing books by celebrated academics from America and abroad. By mid— century, the two major pillars of Norton’s publishing programitrade books and college textsgwere firmly established. In the 1950s, the Norton family trans— ferred control of the company to its employees, and today—with a staff of four hundred and a comparable number of trade, college, and professional titles pub— lished each year—VV. “1. Norton 8: Company stands as the largest and oldest publishing house owned wholly by its employees. Copyright © 2006 by W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. ‘Hans Walter Gabler’s introduction, line numbers and accompanying footnotes to the text, and “A Curious History" are reprinted from DUBLINERS by James Joyce, Edited by Hans Walter Gabler with \Nalter Hettche, Copyright © 1993 by Hans Walter Gabler. This material reproduced here with the permission of Taylor & Francis Books, North America. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. First Edition. Every effort has been made to contact the copyright holders of each of the selections. Rights holders of any selections not credited should contact W. W. Norton 8c Company, Inc. for a correction to be made in the next printing of our work. The text of this book is composed in Fairfield Medium with the display set in Bernhard Modern. Composition by Binghamton Valley Composition, LLC. Manufacturing by the Maple-Vail Book Group. Production manager: Benjamin Reynolds. Library of Congress Cataloging-in—Publication Data Joyce, James, 1882—1941. Dubliners: authoritative text, contexts, criticism / James Joyce; edited by Margot Norris. p. cm. — (A Norton critical edition) Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0-393-9785 1-6 (pbk.) 1. Dublin (Ireland)—Fiction. 2. Joyce, James, 1882—1941. Dubliners. 3. Dublin (Ireland)iln literature: I. Norris, Margot. II. Title. III. Series. PR6019.09D8 zoosBRIIGL mom), 5- km l-‘BKIWV 823'912—dC22 2005053410 W. W. Norton Sr Company, Inc., 500 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10110—0017 \VVVVVJVVVTIOITOI‘I. COIIl W. W. Norton 8: Company Ltd., Castle House, 75/76 Wells Street, London WIT 3QT 234567890 20 DUBLINERS slope calmly but my heart was beating quickly with fear that he would seize me by the ankles. When I reached the top of the slope I turned round and, without looking at him, called loudly across the field: —\/Iurphyl My voice had an accent of forced bravery in it and I was ashamed of my paltry stratagem. I had to call the name again before Mahony saw me and hallooed in answer. How my heart beat as he came running across the field to me! He ran as if to 295 bring me aid. And I was penitent for in my heart I had always 300 despised him a little. Araby North Richmond Street, being blind,‘ was a quiet street ex= cept at the hour when the Christian Brothers’ School2 set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.3 The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back drawingroom. Air, musty from having been long en: closed, hung in all the rooms and the waste room behind the kitchen was littered with old useless papers. Among these I found a few papercovered books, the pages of which were curled and damp: The Ahhot by Walter Scott,* The Devout Conunum'comt5 and The [Memoirs of Vz‘docq.6 I liked the last best because its leaves were yellow. The wild garden behind the house contained a central apple tree and a few straggling bushes under one of which I found the late tenant’s rusty bicycle pump. He had been a very charitable priest; in his will he had left all his money to institutions and the furniture of his house to his sister. 10 15 Copy-text: I910 late proofs (10); Collated texts: 1914 proofs (I4P) and 1914 first edition (14) [IDENTITY IN BOTH IS REPORTED AS ‘14’]; 1967 Viking edition in the 1969 Viking Critical Library printing (67). I. A dead-end street or cul-de-sac in the northeast section of Dublin, off the North Circular Road. 2. A day school for boys taught by the Christian Brothers, an order of Roman Catholic lay clergy who had taken temporary vows. Its curriculum, aimed at poor children, emphasized vocational rather than academic education. . The houses were solidly made of brown brick. LII-RUG friar, Pacificus Baker, in 1813. . A heroic novel about a page serving Mary, Queen of Scots, during her imprisonment. . A book of pious meditations on the sacrament of Holy Communion, written by an English 6. The putative autobiographical account of a criminal, informer, and detective named Francois-Jules Vidocq ( I 77 5—185 7). ARABY n the short days of winter came dusk fell before we had dinners. When we met in the street the houses bre. The space of sky above us was the colour erchanging violet and towards it the lamps of the street of Cd their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played lifte 1- bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. “11 Oldareer of our play brought us through the dark muddy The s behind the houses where we ran the gantlet7 of the rough lane from the cottages,8 to the back doors of the dark dripping Whe well eaten 0111‘ had grown 50m ibes . ‘ wardens where odours arose from the ashpits,9 to the dark gdorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness. When we re: turned to the street light from the kitchen Windows had-filled the areas. If my uncle was seen turning the corner we hid In the shadow until we had seen him safely housed. Or if Mangan s sister' came out on the doorstep to call her brother 1n to his tea we watched her from our shadow peer up and down the street. We waited to see whether she would remain or go in and if she remained we left our shadow and walked up to Mangan’s steps resignedly. She was waiting for us, her figure defined by the light from the half-opened door. Her brother always teased her before he obeyed and I stood by the railings looking at her. Her dress swung as she moved her body and the soft rope of her hair tossed from side to side. Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen. When she came out on the doorstep my heart leaped. I ran to the hall, seized my books and followed her. I kept her brown figure always in my eye and when we came near the point at which our ways diverged I quickened my pace and passed her. This happened morning after morning. I had never spoken to her except for a few casual words and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood. I Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostlle to romance. On Saturday evenings when my aunt went market: ing I had to go to carry some of the parcels. We walked through the flaring streets, jostled by drunken men and bargaining women, amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies of shop 7. A trial consisting of two facing rows of armed men ready to strike a person forced to run between them (as in “running the gauntlet"). we: . Dumping places in the garden for ashes, garbage, and other refuse. l. The children’s last name of Mangan recalls an Irish romantic poet named James Clarence Mangan (1803—1849). Mangan, like poets such as Byron and Shelley, was fascmated by the mythic quality that hung over notions of the Middle East. ' Richmond Cottages, off Richmond Street, housed the very poor with many children. 2.1 20 30 4O 22 DUBLINERS boys who stood on guard by the barrels of pigs’ cheeks,2 the nasal chanting of street singers who sang a come-all-you3 about O’Donovan Rossa4 or a ballad about the troubles in our native land.S These noises converged in a single sensation of life for me: I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes.6 Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. lVIy eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires. One evening I went into the back drawingroom in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: 0 love! 0 love! many times. At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer. She asked me was I going to Araby. I forget whether I answered yes or no. It would be a splendid bazaar,7 she said; she would love to go. ——And why can’t you? I asked. While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist. She could not go, she said, because there 86 said;] STET 10 2. Inexpensive pieces of pork, less nutritious and less usable in cooking. 3 60 65 70 75 80 85 9O ARABY uld be a retreat that week in her convent.8 Her brother and W0 other boys were fighting for their caps and I was alone at till“) railings. She held one of the spikes, bowing her head to: t el-ds me. The light from the lamp opposite our door caught “:3 white curve of her neck, lit up the hair that rested there 2nd falling, lit up the hand upon the railing. It fell over one side’of her dress and caught the white border of a petticoat, Just Visible as she stood at ease. ,.1t’s well for you, she said.9 .a—If I go, I said, I will bring you something. I What innumerable follies laid waste my waking and sleeping thoughts after that evening! I wished to annihilate the tedious intervening days. I chafed against the work of school. At night in my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between me and the page I strove to read. The syllables of the word Araby Were called to me through the silence in which my soul luxuriated and cast an eastern enchantment over me. I asked for leave to go to the bazaar on Saturday night. My aunt was surprised and hoped it was not some freemason affair.1 I answered few questions in class. I watched my master’s face ass from amiability to sternness; he hoped I was not beginning to idle. I could not call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child’s Play, ugly monotonous child’s play. On Saturday morning I reminded my uncle that I wished to go to the bazaar in the evening. He was fussing at the hallstand, looking for the hatbrush, and answered me curtly: ——Yes, boy, I know. _ As he was in the hall I could not go into the front parlour and lie at the window. I left the house in bad humour and walked slowly towards the school. The air was pitilessly raw and already my heart misgave me. When I came home to dinner my uncle had not yet been home. Still it was early. I sat staring at the clock for some time 23 100 105 110 115 120 125 VI \1 . A traditional type of song performed in pubs and other public places that began with the invitation “Come all you gallant Irishmen and listen to my song" before addressing some topic of current interest. . A nickname given to the Irish rebel leader Jeremiah O’Donovan (1831—1915). Because he was born in a place called Ross Carberry and advocated violent political action, he was also known as “Dynamite Rossa." . Many ballads and popular songs lamented Irish suffering during centuries of British occupation. . A possible reference to the Holy Grail, the vessel used by Jesus Christ at the Last Supper that disappeared, according to some versions of the legend, after]oseph ofAriinathea used it to collect Christ’s blood at the cross. The legend inspired numerous romances of heroes incurring dangerous adventures in quest of the sacred relic. . A charity bazaar called a “Grand Oriental Fete” was held in Dublin in May 1894 for the benefit of the Jervis Street Hospital. The actual bazaar is reputed to have been much larger and more lavish than the stmy's narration suggests. and when its ticking began to irritate me I left the room. I mounted the staircase and gained the upper part of the house. 95 the (2)] STET 10 8. Convent schools, like the one the girl presumably attends, held regular religious retreats that obliged students to turn their attention away from worldly concerns and toward splr- itual matters. 4 I 9. The girl’s words imply that the boy is lucky he can attend the bazaar 1f he Wishes. . Freemasons were a secret brotherhood (of Free and Accepted Masons) evolved from a medieval guild of builders and bricklayers. Although the Freemasons also sponsored char- itable bazaars like the one in the story, Roman Catholics regarded the soc1ety as heathen and hostile to its interests. ._. 24 DUBLINERS The high cold empty gloomy rooms liberated me and I went from room to room singing. From the front window I saw my companions playing below in the street. Their cries reached me weakened and indistinct and, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, I looked over at the dark house where she lived. I may have stood there for an hour seeing nothing but the brownclad figure cast by my imagination, touched discreetly by the lamplight at the curved neck, at the hand upon the railings and at the border below the dress. When I came downstairs again I found Mrs Mercer sitting at the fire. She was an old garrulous woman, a pawnbroker’s2 widow who collected used stamps for some pious purpose.3 I had to endure the gossip of the teatable. The meal was prolonged beyond an hour and still my uncle did not come. Mrs Mercer stood up to go: she was sorry she couldn't wait any longer but it was after eight o’clock and she did not like to be out late as the night air was bad for her. When she had gone I began to walk up and down the room, clenching my lists. My aunt said: gl’m afraid you may put off your bazaar for this night of Our Lord" At nine o’clock I heard my uncle’s latchkey in the halldoor. I heard him talking to himself and heard the hallstand rocking when it had received the weight of his overcoat. I could inteipret these signs. When he was midway through his dinner I asked him to give me the money to go to the bazaar. He had forgotten. ~The people are in bed and after their first sleep now, he said. I did not smile. My aunt said to him energetically: —Can’t you give him .the money and let him go? You’ve kept him late enough as it is. My uncle said he was very sorry he had forgotten. He said he believed in the old saying: All work and no play makes Jack a (lull boy. He asked me where I was going and when I had told him a second time he asked me did I know The Arab's Farewell to his Steed.5 When I left the kitchen he was about to recite the 130 I40 145 150 155 160 ARABY I held a florin" tightly in my hand as I strode down Bucking: ham Street7 towards the station. The sight of the streets thronged with buyers and glaring with gas recalled to me-the Purpose of my journey. I took my seat in a thlrd class carriage of a deserted train. After an intolerable delay the tram moved out of the station slowly. It crept onward among ruinous houses and over the twinkling river. At VVestland Row Station8 a crowd of people pressed at the carriage doors; but the porters moved them back, saying that it was a special train for the bazaar. I remained alone in the bare carriage. In a few minutes the train drew up beside an improvised wooden platform. I Passed out on to the road and saw by the lighted dial ofra clock that it was ten minutes to ten. In front of me was a large building which displayed the magical name. I could not find any sixpenny entrance and, fearing that the bazaar would be closed, I passed in quickly through a turnstile, handing a shilling9 to a wearylooking man. I found myself in a big hall girdled at half its height by a gallery. Nearly all the stalls were closed and the greater part of the hall was in darkness. I recognised a silence like that which pervades a church after a service. I walked into the centre of the bazaar timidly. A few people were gathered about the stalls which were still open. Before a curtain over which the words Cafe’ Chantant‘ were written in coloured lamps two men were count= ing money on a salver.2 I listened to the fall of the coins. Remembering with difficulty why I had come I went over to one of the stalls and examined porcelain vases and flowered teasets. At the door of the stall a young lady was talking and laughing with two young gentlemen. I remarked their English accents3 and listened vaguely to their conversation. —O, I never said such a thing! —0, but you did! ——0, but I didn’t! 172 at] STET 10 182 its] STET 10 170 180 183 190 195 6. A two-shilling coin. The sum would represent four Sixpenceithat is, a Sixpence more than the three boys in “An Encounter" collect for their truant expedition. opening lines of the piece to my aunt. 2. U14: Someone who lends or offers money against the security of some valuable object that is deposited in his or her shop. If the recipient of the money cannot repay it by a certain time, the "paii'ned” object becomes the property of the pawnbroker and may be resold legally. . The Catholic Church supported some of its foreign missionary enterprises by collecting used stamps that could be sold to stamp-collecting outlets for cash. . Possibly a reference to Saturday night, the eve of the Sunday sabbath. . A sentimental poem by Caroline Norton (180871877) in which a fictional Arab bids fare— well to the horse he has sold (“Fleet-limbed and beautiful, farewelll—thou’rt sold, my steed, thou’rt sold!") before he reverses his decision (“I fling them back their gold") and rides off on his steed. 7. 8. 9. If the boy begins with two shillings and spends one shilling for admission to the bazaar, A street leading southward from North Richmond Street toward the Amiens Street train station the boy will use to get to the bazaar. A heavily trafficked train station in downtown Dublm. he has now spent over half of his money and still has his return train fare to pay. . A French coffeehouse at the bazaar that would also present musical and other entertain— ments. - A possible reference to the story in the New Testament (Matthew 21:12713) that tells how Jesus drove the moneychangers out of the temple because they defiled a house of prayer. . The young people at the stall are British rather than Irish. The dialogue suggests that the young lady is flirting with the young gentlemen. 26 DUBLINERS —Didn’t she say that? —She did. I heard her. —0, there’s a fib! Observing me the young lady came over and asked me did I wish to buy anything. The tone of her voice was not encour= aging: she seemed to have spoken to me out of a sense of duty. I looked humbly at the great jars that stood like eastern guards at either side of the dark entrance to her stall and murmured: —No, thank you. The young lady changed the position of one of the vases and went back to the two young men. They began to talk of the same subject. Once or twice the young lady glanced at me over her shoulder. I I lingered before her stall, though I knew my stay was useless, to make my interest in her wares seem the more real. Then I turned away slowly and walked down the middle of the bazaar. I allowed the two pennies to fall against the Sixpence4 in my pocket. I heard a voice call from one end of the gallery that the light was out. The upper part of the hall was now com: pletely dark. Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity: and my eyes burned with anguish and anger. Eveline She sat at the window watching the evening invade the av= enue. Her head was leaned against the window curtains and in her nostrils was the odour of dusty cretonne.1 She was tired. Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on 199 ~She did.] STET 10 205 her] STET 10 200 205 210 215 220 4. If the boy began with two shillings, he began with twenty-four pence, since there are twelve pence in a shilling. “’6 know that he spent a shilling, or twelve pence, on admission. If he now has eight pence remaining, his train fare must have cost four pence. If he rides rather than walks the more than two miles home, he would have had only four pence to spend on the gift or souvenir for Mangan’s sisteria very small sum. Copy-text: 1910 late proofs (10); Collated texts: The Irish Homestead OF SEPTEMBER 10, 1904 (IH) [SUBSTANTIVE IH VARIANTS ONLY ARE REPORTED IN THESE FOOTNOTES; 1914 proofs (14F) and 1914 first edition (14) [IDENTITY IN BOTH IS REPORTED AS ‘14’]; 1967 Viking edition in the 1969 Viking Critical Library printing (67). 2 window curtains] window—curtain, 1H 4 Few] NO PARAGRAPH 1H 1. Strong printed cotton fabric used for curtains and upholstery. ...
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1 - A NORTON CRITICAL EDITION James Joyce DUB LINERS Ab AUTHORITATIVE TEXT CON TEXTS CRITICISM Baa-tea 27y MARGOT NORRIS UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

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