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"My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) … 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." || James Joyce, Araby

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James Joyce (Part 2) - Irish Author. What *isn't* hot about a man rocking a white smoking jacket, a bow tie, salt and pepper hair and a mother fucking eye patch over a pair of glasses? That's right, nothing.

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Series of very readable short stories from the town of the author's birth written far from said location. What are these modernist studies about? Nationalist Ireland? Middle class values in the beginning of 20th century? I like to think it's Joyce's ongoing Jesuitical inquiry into the theme of self-understanding. The Dead and Araby stand out. A more entertaining read than 'Portrait', despite it's restrained style devoid of the stream of consciousness technique run riot in Ulysses.

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James Joyce - "and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood". araby, irish_short_stories, love

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