Interpreting literature with a close attention to
detail allows us to see reading as a “conversation with the text” and provides
us with a helpful method of approaching the informational gaps in a literary
text. When we interact with the literature in this way, instead of obstacles
that prevent understanding, these textual ambiguities become meaningful
possibilities that require an imaginative response on our part. These gaps in
the text—the unwritten places—actually create opportunities for readers to
participate in, and more fully experience the story.
As a follow-up to our class discussion last week
regarding the passage from James Joyce’s “The Dead,” I have prepared an
annotated think-aloud as an example of how a reader might actively participate
with the text while reading:
Original Passage: From "The Dead" by
James Joyce
"Is it snowing
again, Mr. Conroy?" asked Lily.
She had
preceded him into the pantry to help him off with his overcoat. Gabriel smiled
at the three syllables she had given his surname and glanced at her. She was a
slim, growing girl, pale in complexion and with hay-coloured hair. The gas in
the pantry made her look still paler. Gabriel had known her when she was a
child and used to sit on the lowest step nursing a rag doll.
"Yes,
Lily," he answered, "and I think we're in for a night of it."
He looked up
at the pantry ceiling, which was shaking with the stamping and shuffling of
feet on the floor above, listened for a moment to the piano and then glanced at
the girl, who was folding his overcoat carefully at the end of a shelf.
"Tell
me. Lily," he said in a friendly tone, "do you still go to
school?"
"O no,
sir," she answered. "I'm done schooling this year and more."
"O,
then," said Gabriel gaily, "I suppose we'll be going to your wedding
one of these fine days with your young man, eh?"
The girl
glanced back at him over her shoulder and said with great bitterness:
"The
men that is now is only all palaver and what they can get out of you."
Gabriel
coloured, as if he felt he had made a mistake and, without looking at her, kicked
off his goloshes and flicked actively with his muffler at his patent-leather
shoes.
Annotated Think-aloud:
"Is it snowing again, Mr.
Conroy?" asked Lily.
She had preceded him into the pantry
to help him off with his overcoat.
[“Proceeded” means to go before. Lily is leading
him. Her back is to him.]
Gabriel smiled at the three syllables
she had given his surname and glanced at her.
[Possibly, Con-er-roy? He is amused by her
pronunciation. This implies his awareness of her accent, or difference in
education or class. “Glanced” means he takes a quick look, checks her out.]
She was a slim; growing girl, pale in
complexion and with hay-coloured hair.
[“Slim” and “growing” suggests her age, maybe late
teens. “Growing girl” further suggests that his attention is drawn to her
figure. “Pale” seems positive in this context, like porcelain, pure,
unblemished. She’s a blond.]
The gas in the pantry made her look
still paler.
[“Gas”? The gas lamp? The light is dim. She looks
attractive in the soft light.]
Gabriel had known her when she was a
child and used to sit on the lowest step nursing a rag doll.
[Little girl in simple dress, pony tails, sitting
knee-knocked, holes in stockings, speaking softly to the floppy doll on her lap
as she strokes its yarn hair. She is oblivious to Gabriel in his dark hat and
coat as he pauses to look down at her for a moment before ascending the stairs.
He seems dangerous, like a predator… is that a fair image of him?]
"Yes, Lily," he answered,
"and I think we're in for a night of it."
[Snow and cold weather, also foreshadowing of
conflict?]
He looked up at the pantry ceiling,
which was shaking with the stamping and shuffling of feet on the floor above,
listened for a moment to the piano and then glanced at the girl, who was
folding his overcoat carefully at the end of a shelf.
[Little puffs of dust escape between floorboards.
He is checking her out again. Possibly she is turned away or has her back to
him.]
"Tell me. Lily," he said in
a friendly tone, "do you still go to school?"
[Small talk, or way of asking, How old are you?]
"O no, sir," she answered.
"I'm done schooling this year and more."
[She’s been out of school for more than a year.]
"O, then," said Gabriel
gaily, "I suppose we'll be going to your wedding one of these fine days
with your young man, eh?”
[A pretty young girl like you, done with school,
must have a boyfriend who can’t wait to marry you.]
The girl glanced back at him over her
shoulder and said with great bitterness: "The men that is now is only
all palaver and what they can get out of you."
[They are all talk and only want sex! It sounds
like maybe she is overly defensive, guarding a broken heart maybe.]
Gabriel coloured, as if he felt he
had made a mistake and, without looking at her, kicked off his goloshes and
flicked actively with his muffler at his patent-leather shoes.
[He is embarrassed and mad at himself for saying
the wrong thing. He wants to hurry up and get out of the room.]
Summary Analysis of Close Reading:
Only with this kind of interaction with the text
does it become apparent just how much the author, James Joyce, is manipulating
us as readers at every moment. Even though an older man and younger woman
briefly alone together in a dimly lit pantry is not necessarily inappropriate
in the context of the story, by immediately juxtaposing Gabriel’s internal
assessment of Lilly’s “growing” physical attractiveness with an image of her as
an innocent young child still playing with her dolls, Joyce taints our
interpretation of the scene with a feeling of unease, maybe even disgust, at
Gabriel’s train of thought. This is because Joyce is subtly prepping us for
both the surprise and understanding of Lilly’s response to Gabriel’s assumption
that she will be getting married soon. When she says bitingly, that men are
“all palaver and what they can get out of you," it becomes obvious that
she is not only offended at the question, but she may even feel Mr. Conroy
(like “all” men) is, as some of you said in class, actually “hitting on her.”
Maybe Gabriel is so embarrassed because he too realizes she misinterpreted his
comments...or maybe he remains clueless; either way, he can’t wait to get away
from her.
Work Cited: Joyce, James. "The Dead." Dubliners.
New York: Dover Publications, 1991. 119-152. Print.