The Dubliners Review; A Mother By James Joyce

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God damn, that’s an aesthetically pleasing photograph of a piano. I mean just look at that warm colouring and that focus, with that super shallow depth of field and….


Yeah I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I couldn’t give two fucks about cameras and shit. If I had a pocket full of fucks and you asked me if I could give a fuck about cameras and shit I’d say, gesturing down to my pockets “Oh I’m sorry, you know I don’t give a fuck” and yeah I stole that joke from Chris Rock. Sue me.

As you can see I’m having some difficulty starting out my blog posts as of late. This is because I’m sharing this shit on Facebook and its my main revenue (3 out of the 5[?] people who read[?] this shite come from Facebook) and the links I post have an icon that depicts the first image that comes up on the post (i.e. the piano) and the first few sentences. So I try and avoid berating the author in the first paragraph and avoid using words such as “Shit” and “Fuck” and “Cunt” despite the fact that they’re my favourite words.

I’m gonna try and not get too overboard with the whole politics thing because it’s polarizing to people who have their ear to the ground like me and it’s alienating to people who are flying up into fucking space. Like I’m always shit talking about Northern Ireland politics and Brexit and all that shit and it can be quite alienating to foreign readers. Apparently we have an American(?) reading this so I imagine me berating Unionists and the God forsaken DUP just kind of flies over some peoples heads.

Actually, for the sake of curiosity who the fuck is reading this shite? Here’s a link to Contact page. Just type in a comment (you can be anonymous if you like) and tell me where you’re from, like you can say; “Oh, I’m from America” or “Oh, I’m from Spain” or “I’m from Larne ye apathetic cunt” please, feel free to tell me.

Believe it or not I dislike talking about politics, especially with strangers. Because when I talk about politics I get angry and when I get angry I’m a right fucking cunt.

Especially in the last post I made where I went in on Irish Nationalism (shout-out to a certain acne ridden manlet for helping me fact check it) and talked shit about Loyalists and for some reason I felt bad about that, like I’d get in trouble or something. It’s probably because my old ICT teacher when I was in A Level always went on these twenty minute long tirades about how risky it is putting personal shit online and saying dumb shit online and how it could effect your appearance when you apply for jobs.

At the same time I want to see what kind of fucking fascist wouldn’t give me a job because I think the 12th of July celebrates a Sectarian war and is therefore bad and I think Loyalists are cunts that don’t care about the welfare of the people they think they represent. I mean, if we live in a world where the President of the United States once called Jon Stewart a pussy, then I should be fine.

Ok, I know I’m stalling but one last thing on Brexit; Britain’s Trump.

And it really is Britain’s Trump because the topic of Brexit is both Polarizing and super toxic, where the whole country *Cough* England *Cough* made a huge mistake and half of them can see that the whole thing is a huge fucking mess and the other side are a bunch of deluded fucking morons.

It’s especially British because with Trump it’s simple: Trump is loud and says and does dumb fucking shit twenty four fucking seven- politics for children if you will.

Brexit is dull and complicated and boring. It is the antithesis of Britishness. Oh, and it brings out the racists and the xenophobes and the people that hate Muslims and unlike the American equivalent they’re fucking shit at Xenophobia and Racism and Hating Muslims.

Case and point, your typical Brexiteer will bring up immigration and cite that on building sites you see this foreign workers (most of whom are Eastern European) who work for next to nothing because their cost of living is so low (you’ll find that most of them sleep in a room with nine other men) and most of that money to their families back home and…what? You’re hoping that I, an empathetic human being, despise this person who’s working day to day- barely getting by- so he can support his family?

At least the Americans are smart enough to lie about their immigrants, like how they’re taking all the jobs but they’re also lazy and living off welfare…? God dammit.

I’d say the best thing this whole fucking fiasco has done for us is get us a debate on Brexit between Alan Partridge and Malcolm Tucker which can be read in the Big Issue (the magazine that Homeless people sell) and I hope to God will some day soon be televised. I’ll leave you with the best quote from Tucker;

“Those fucking balloon animals. Are you inspired, Alan? Would you follow them into battle? Michael Gove, the talking sea-lion? That lying shit Boris Johnson, a 20-stone binbag of fucking giblets in a Brian Jones wig? Fuck off. These clowns, whining and mewling about a return to traditional British values. How far we going back, eh? The 1970s? The 1790s? Daniel Hannan, right, Daniel Fucking Hannan, his Twitter bio starts with “Old Whig”. How is that not asking for a fucking cock punch? Right on the tip when he’s all aroused thinking about the return of shillings and ounces and fucking POLIO.”


Anyway, onto the review.

So the story revolves around this woman called Mrs Kearney who’s this rigid posh cunt who helps organise a concert for her daughter who is a pianist. For the most part the story is fairly decent and I’m surprised to say I actually liked it.

We start out with this guy Mr. Holohan who’s looking for performers for a series of concerts that will be held for four days. Mrs. Kearney isn’t surprised to find that Mr. Holohan is interested in hiring her daughter to perform because she’s been taught music and Irish for years.

So Mrs. Kearney helps organise the concerts and things are going fairly smoothly up until when the concerts are being performed. The guys who are operating it (Mr. Holohan and Mr. Fitzpatrick) are really fucking incompetent. Like on their first opening barely anyone showed up, on their second opening it was a full house but only because it was free admission which meant the audience didn’t behave themselves and they cancelled the third opening.

So, worried about whether or not her daughter will be paid Mrs. Kearney goes to Mr. Holohan who says that she ought to talk to Mr. Fitzpatrick who says she ought to talk to the council that’s organising the entire thing and she can’t talk to the council because the next council meeting will be way after the concert and they might not even listen to her. Now, she’s really concerned about this so on the fourth opening she refuses to let her daughter play until she gets paid. The lads start an argument with her but eventually they pay her. Begrudgingly the guys pay her half the fee now and promise to pay the other half after the intermission.

The daughter performs and when it comes time for the intermission the lads have said that they changed their mind and that if she wants to get paid she’ll have to wait till the next council meeting and if her daughter doesn’t play then they will consider the contract to be completely annulled and they won’t give her a penny.

So Mrs. Kearney gets into a row and the lads call her “Unladylike” and she storms out of the theater with only half her requested fee, bickering with her daughter and husband. The story ends with Mr. Holohan pacing up and down saying; “O’ she’s a nice lady!” sarcastically while his peers tell him that he did absolutely nothing wrong. Essentially wanking off his self righteous ego.

So, just to clarify, I do a bit of research for each of these stories. I read and for the most part I like the various summaries laid out on sites like Sparknotes and Cliffnotes and for the most part I agree with their analysis for the stories I’ve seen in the Dubliners. However, for this story I think they’re were dead fucking wrong on.

Like, they place the blame on Mrs. Kearney calling her greedy and elitist. I will concede to the fact that Mrs. Kearney is undoubtedly a posh cunt who values reputation over everything else.

I mean, beofre she was married she went around trying to court guys and she had great difficulty finding a suitable person to marry because she’s super uncharismatic and she was way too fucking picky, but when her friends started slabbering about her she married Mr. Kearney who was a working class shoemaker just to shut them up. So she married someone beneath her social position out of spite and she’s been trying to build up her reputation ever since.

That’s why she insisted on sending her daughter to a good convent where she could get a good education and learn how to play the piano. She hired an Irish teacher and got her to mingle with people involved in Nationalist politics not because she gave a fuck about her culture or politics- but because she wanted to raise her social position. I will concede she’s a superficial bitch. I get that, she can be a bit elitist. Especially when she was bothered by Mr. Fitzpatrick’s dumb fucking Dublin accent which…yeah, I can’t talk shit about her for that. I mean I’ve thought worse about people from Derry with the atrocious screeches they call a voice.

But she’s not greedy and she’s not in the wrong. She’s just worried that these incompetent morons won’t hold up to the contract they agreed upon. I mean they are pretty incompetent, which can be expected because they’ve never held a concert before and they’re only really focused on the Irish language and Cultural aspect of the event.

I mean, I guess you could make the argument that because there were only three openings and not four that the council doesn’t have to pay her the full fee but that’s still bullshit cause they agreed in the contract that she would be paid for four openings. You have to hold up to your end of the bargain otherwise what was the fucking point in writing up a contract?

It’s a matter of respect, not greed. She wants her daughter to be paid fairly for her work and the lads turned against her when she put up a fuss. Now because she got into an argument about her fee and went to desperate lengths to ensure that the agreed upon payment was fulfilled then that meant that her daughter’s music career in Dublin was finished. That’s so fucked up.

I mean let’s just give a layout of the exact level of incompetence we can see here:

  • So the council’s first opening barely got anyone into the audience; a failure in marketing.
  • The council gave free admissions on the second opening, a smart marketing move so that people would go home and tell people about it but a dumb financial move because they didn’t make any revenue and because of that they were probably worried about whether or not they could afford to pay for the booking of the theater and pay the performers; the probable reason to why they were so hostile to Mrs. Kearneys queries.
  • Then on the third opening they cancelled it because the council realised “Oh we can’t afford this” but they told everyone that they overbooked the dates they meant to perform or something and…they just look fucking incompetent and I feel no sympathy for them.

But Mrs. Kearney wasn’t in the wrong. Despite being a posh cunt she was rightly concerned about her daughter’s welfare. Without it she might not have gotten paid at all. So fuck Halohan, fuck Fitzpatrick and fuck anyone who thinks Mrs. Kearney was a greedy bitch.

There’s not much to analyse here, I mean I usually steal ideas from sparknotes and just add the occasional “Fuck” or “Cunt” for the little hints of authenticity. But their analysis is pretty fucking shit, like they try and say “Oh because Mrs. Kearney desires respect but isn’t very respectable she is…paralysed(?) or something with her greed and lack of charisma and that is, like, really in depth and links back to Joyce’s obsession with paralysis…or something” I don’t know, it’s dumb.

As interpretations go there’s not much to go on. I mean some people think that the mother is greedy (some people are wrong) and others think that the council is incompetent and could highlight some frustrations with bureaucracy. It could possibly  link back to Joyce’s delusions on Irish Nationalism and politics in general. Maybe it’s a story about people taking advantage of a culture to advance their own image while everyone else is just trying to have a good time but even so the mother just wanted to make sure her daughter got paid fairly. That’s not much to quarrel with, is it?

That’s really all I could say about that.

I hope to fuck that they make a TV version of that Partridge vs. Tucker debate, I really do.

In other news that handsome wanker Paul Ryan (The US speaker of the house) was roasting Trump last night. You can watch that here. He’s actually quite funny, I mean he’s a spineless liar and a power hungry coward but he makes some humorous remarks.

He’s absolutely fucked though. Signed his own death warrant if you will.. The Republican base will reject him for mocking the President, the President will fucking crucify on twitter and he’ll have some significant difficulty running for re-election if Steve Bannon gets his way.

It’s kind of weird seeing Paul Ryan say shit like this. If we analyze it there’s a few reasons as to why he’d make jokes like this; it either means he’s done for and he’s not even gonna try for re-election, the Republican establishment is ready to drop Trump or… maybe it was just a joke.

Maybe, but I don’t trust man who can’t drink a pint of Guinness properly.Jesus Christ that was awful- you don’t sip Guinness you handsome wanker- you fucking gulp it down like a thirsty fucking hippo.

Fucking disgraceful, that’s what it is. Even Joyce knew how to fucking drink, and he couldn’t even fucking see.





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