Stephen Dedalus, the main character of this quasi-autobiographical (but really not actually) work by James Joyce, as well as the main character of Joyce’s infamous beast of a novel Ulysses, is something of an Irish national hero. Or, an Irish national enigma, to put it another way. At least, that’s the impression I get. He strangely seems to walk out of the pages of this novel and into Ireland, physically, spiritually, and is always mentioned multiple times in critical essays regarding other works that are not about Joyce at all—I’ve seen Stephan referred to in works on Seamus Heaney, for another class, for example. He strikes me as ghostly, as if I should expect to see him rise from the dead, from the graves of Ireland, and stand in front of me and demand what kind of art this splatter of words on a computer screen is.
Of course, all this just alludes to how brilliantly crafted and well written the novel is (both novels are), to create so lifelike and haunting a character. A Portrait of the Artist of a Young Man by James Joyce (orig. 1916—same year as the 1916 Easter Rising in Ireland) is both a classic coming-of-age and a künstleroman (as one could surmise from the title). It follows Stephen from his childhood until roughly the end of his university years, the point at which he realizes his purpose in life is to become a great artist. The style is stream-of-consciousness, and the chapters jump from scene to scene, providing a structure that feels nonlinear but can be put together when one looks at it from a distance, as a whole. Joyce’s style of narration is famous, as he writes in the close third-person but always through the mind and perspective of Stephen. When Stephen is little, the voice of the narrator mimics how Stephen thinks and speaks. As he grows more mature, so does the writing.
As Stephen grows up, he begins to challenge the Irish traditions and norms he is surrounded with: blind Catholic faith, intense nationalism, the Irish/Celtic revival. He seeks to construct the true story of Ireland, yet ironically feels the need to flee Ireland in order to become the artist and writer he wants to be. (At the beginning of Ulysses, we discover he’s back in Dublin, but that’s another story… pardon the pun.)
Portrait feels accessible on a surface level, welcoming many readers. While reading, however, it’s important to remember Joyce’s genius, and that no word is accidental. Read this way, the deeper implications, references, and symbolism clearly go over many people’s heads—including my own (especially because my lecture didn’t necessarily go into the text as much as I would’ve hoped). Of course, this succeeds as a way into Joyce’s life and writing. Portrait provides insight into the Irish psyche as while as the artistic one, revealing its contradictions and complexities. Stephen Dedalus is an Irish hero, even to those Irishmen and women who have never touched a page of Joyce, and yet, almost in irony, Stephen spends his youth fighting to contradict the status quo of Ireland thinking, nationalism, and tradition, of which traces can still be seen today.
Should you check it out? Honestly, only if you’re interested in reading Joyce. [Rating:4/5]
