Reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
Journal #6

I realize that last time I may have gotten a bit carried away by the prose of the book instead of talking about the book itself. One thing that surprised me a bit was when the final few pages of the book switched from normal narration to journal entries (after Dedalus tells his friend what he is going to do). It seemed like an odd way to end the book and I’m not sure if I like it or not. Nevertheless, the book itself was a masterpiece that proves, at least to me, that plot is not the most important element of a book (something that I thought before I read this book). The fact that we’re stuck in Stephen’s mind certainly makes the book interesting enough. The echo chamber of his thoughts occasionally lends an untested, underdeveloped quality to things he seems to strongly believe, and the best examples I can think of are in the final chapter. Even when he talks to other people, he doesn't seem to converse with any intention of broadening his perspective with another's perspective, but instead tries to convey his thoughts to other people, feeling surprised and slightly frustrated when they don't see things his way (I'm recalling his separate conversations with a couple friends towards the end of the book, when he talks about, among other things, his definitions of beauty and art). Stephen’s character is a bit pretentious, sometimes he overvalues an established notion, but I think these are more humanizing moments than anything, reminders that we aren't totally right about everything throughout life, but also that we can be wrong but well-intentioned and hopefully still make our way.

Out of curiosity I picked up a copy of Finnegan’s Wake, read one page, and decided that I wouldn’t bother with that book, at least not until after I read more, well, normal things.