This story is built around a song and is a classic in the use of symbolism, something that would die in the hands of anyone other than Mr Joyce. We are with poor old Maria as she buys treats and makes her way to visit some of her relations. She is an ordinary well-meaning person but has never found a life partner. (Now I feel a bit gloomy and wish I’d chosen ‘Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen’ by P. G. Wodehouse, the go-to writer if you need a laugh.) When Maria is buying a cake, the shop girls tease her about a wedding cake. On her visit, she sings “I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls / With vassals and serfs at my side / And of all who assembled within those halls / That I was the hope and the pride.” There is a game the family’s children play of guessing what something is by touch when blindfolded. Maria can’t guess what the hilarious substance is that they have given her to dabble her fingers in. It’s clay. By the way, there’s an excellent article about the story in Wikipedia, which has just reminded me how thin my own memory of it is.
First published in Dubliners, Grant Richards, 1914. Available to read online at Project Gutenberg
A Personal Anthology 