The Shade of Conroy
In Joyce’s critical writings, we see glimpses, not of the “shade of Parnell,” but glimpses of the ghost of Gabriel Conroy. In Joyce’s depiction of an aged and disillusioned John O’Leary stopping at used bookshops along the river, we spy Gabriel “wander[ing] down the quays to the secondhand booksellers” (“Fenianism” 191, “Dead” 163). In the idiosyncrasies of Charles Parnell—“his cold and formal bearing separat[ing] him from his own colleagues; … [coming] to meetings an hour and half late without apologizing”—we see Gabriel waiting “outside the drawingroom,” understanding that the dancers “grade of culture differed from his” after arriving late to the Morkans’s party and claiming to be “right as the mail” (155, 153). The shade of Gabriel from beyond the end of “The Dead” can be seen in Joyce’s description of O’Leary: “Aside from this [buying used books], he had little reason to be happy. His plots had gone up in smoke, his friends had died, and in his own native land, very few knew who he was and what he had done.” At the end of the story, what reason does Gabriel have to be happy? His plans to romance his wife have failed, his idea of who Gretta is has died, and he sees his own insignificance.
Now Gabriel is no Irish nationalist. But perhaps he, in sharing traits with these nationalist heroes, becomes a microcosm of the Irish situation. In class, we have discussed Gabriel’s paralysis—his inability to get outside of his own head and really act. Joyce describes just such a paralysis in “Ireland, Island of Saints and Sages” and concludes, “No one with any self-respect stays in Ireland …” (171). Like the Irish, Gabriel is confined by the “influence and admonitions” of church and state (171). He is inhibited by Victorian morality, class, unspoken social rules, and his own navel-gazing. We’ve also discussed his self-loathing. In light of Joyce’s comment about self-respect, Gabriel’s aspirations of continental sophistication aren’t the result of an overinflated ego; rather, they are attempts to gather the self-respect that the Irish situation has stripped from him.
Joyce’s critical writings raise interesting questions if we view Gabriel as a microcosm of the Irish situation. For example, if Ireland always betrays and breaks the hearts of her own, as Joyce claims several times, who betrays Gabriel? Who breaks his heart? Here, however, I will end with a reflection on the end of “The Dead.” The story ends with Gabriel’s complete failure to romance his wife. In “Ireland, Island of Saints and Sages,” Joyce writes, “One thing seems clear to me. It is well past time for Ireland to have done once and for all with failure. If she is truly capable of reviving, let her awake, or let her cover up her head and lie down decently in her grave forever” (174). If Gabriel is a microcosm of this Irish situation, it seems like the moment of “enlightenment” at the end of “The Dead” represents him doing what Joyce asks of Ireland. Gabriel has decided to have done with failure and has accepted his inability to revive. He has, by lying down and surrendering himself to the realm of the dead, decided to “lie down decently.” He has resigned himself to the grave.
-Esther