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This is a good (not great) reading of a great book. I normally enjoy John Lee a great deal, but I see two problems here. First, the narrator's Irish accent is a little heavy-handed: more obviously "Irish" than that of other narrators of the book. (John Lee may be as Irish as Donal Donnelly for all I know; but I'm pretty sure "Howth" does NOT rhyme with "mouth." My conclusion, which I admit may be wrong, is that he's trying just a little too hard.) Second, much of it seems rushed. There's a crucial scene at the end of Chapter 3 when Stephen Dedalus visits a priest and makes confession. The priest is sorrowful, bemused, maybe a little jaded as he listens to Stephen's account of his well-developed erotic life; but Lee romps through the confessional dialogue with the same speed and energy he uses for the boyhood conversations on the football field.
Clearly there's soemthing subjective about this. I see from the other listings that the recording is about the same length as Jim Norton's; I would have said it was at least an hour shorter if not more. So I may not be articulating the real problem. I enjoyed it; it's certainly never dull; but I can't quite give it five stars.
18 of 19 people found this review helpful
Joyce is otherworldly. It is hard to even judge his early stuff against itself. He seems to have been born a master of language and art. Most authors would be happy to end their careers with 'Dubliners' and 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.' For Joyce, these are just the beginning of his journey. This novel, more than any other, is a modernist monster maul, a literary 'godevil' that splits all readers. IT is impossible to interact with Joyce and not love him or hate him. Anyway, I loved Portrait of an Artist. I loved it all.
15 of 18 people found this review helpful