"Araby" is a short story written by James Joyce, first published in 1914 as part of his collection of short stories titled Dubliners. The story is narrated by a young boy living in Dublin, who becomes infatuated with a girl in his neighborhood and vows to bring her a gift from the Araby market as a way of declaring his love for her. However, the boy's romantic aspirations are ultimately thwarted by the harsh realities of life in Dublin and his own naivety.
The story is set in a working-class neighborhood in Dublin and centers on the narrator's unrequited love for a girl named Mangan's sister. The narrator is a young boy who is still in school and is not yet fully aware of the complexities of love and relationships. He is drawn to Mangan's sister because of her beauty and grace, and he becomes fixated on the idea of winning her affections by bringing her a gift from the Araby market, which is a bazaar that takes place in Dublin every year.
However, as the narrator prepares to go to the Araby market, he is faced with a series of obstacles that prevent him from fulfilling his romantic mission. The first obstacle is the fact that he has to attend a school retreat on the day of the bazaar, which means he will not be able to go until the evening. The second obstacle is the fact that his uncle, who was supposed to give him money for the trip, forgets to do so and leaves for work before the narrator has a chance to ask for it. The third obstacle is the fact that the bazaar is already closing by the time the narrator finally arrives, and he is unable to find any gifts that he thinks Mangan's sister would appreciate.
In the end, the narrator's romantic aspirations are dashed, and he is left feeling disillusioned and disillusioned. He realizes that the world is not as simple or romantic as he had imagined it to be, and that love and relationships are much more complex than he had thought. The story ends with the narrator standing alone in the empty bazaar, feeling bitter and frustrated as he contemplates the meaning of his experience.
Overall, "Araby" is a poignant and poignant portrayal of the naivety and disillusionment of youth. It is a reminder that life is full of obstacles and setbacks, and that our dreams and aspirations are often thwarted by the harsh realities of the world. It is also a poignant commentary on the social and economic realities of Dublin at the time, and the ways in which the city's working-class neighborhoods were shaped by poverty and despair.
Arabi Online
I could interpret these signs. He went as far as the clock of the College of Surgeons: it was on the stroke of ten. Breakfast was over in the boarding house and the table of the breakfast-room was covered with plates on which lay yellow streaks of eggs with morsels of bacon-fat and bacon-rind. Mercer stood up to go: she was sorry she couldn't wait any longer, but it was after eight o'clock and she did not like to be out late as the night air was bad for her. The child awoke and began to cry. When he returns for dinner that night his uncle is not home yet.
I allowed the two pennies to fall against the sixpence in my pocket. How smoothly it ran. If she went, tomorrow she would be on the sea with Frank, steaming towards Buenos Ayres. Once or twice the young lady glanced at me over her shoulder. He had bought them in his bachelor days and many an evening, as he sat in the little room off the hall, he had been tempted to take one down from the bookshelf and read out something to his wife.
Lenehan kept up with his friend, breathing uneasily. Polly sat for a little time on the side of the bed, crying. I felt my soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there again I found it waiting for me. My aunt went in and the old woman, seeing that I hesitated to enter, began to beckon to me again repeatedly with her hand. He said that if ever he found a boy talking to girls or having a girl for a sweetheart he would whip him and whip him; and that would teach him not to be talking to girls. It would be a splendid bazaar, she said; she would love to go.
Such a person as his father agreed was well worth knowing, even if he had not been the charming companion he was. Lean- ing on the rail he looked over to the grass-grown heights where he had met Araby that morning. The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back drawing-room. My aunt was surprised and hoped it was not some Freemason affair. He picked his way deftly through all that minute vermin-like life and under the shadow of the gaunt spectral mansions in which the old nobility of Dublin had roystered.
The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. Hardly had he sat down when Mahony, catching sight of the cat which had escaped him, sprang up and pursued her across the field. When we returned to the street light from the kitchen windows had filled the areas. Her dress swung as she moved her body and the soft rope of her hair tossed from side to side. He was baffled and a note of menace pierced through his voice.
Do you see any signs of aging in me—eh, what? She was waiting for us, her figure defined by the light from the half-opened door. The narrator has an epiphany as he is plunged into darkness, realizing that his feelings were not actually love, that his desires and the market itself were not special or exotic at all, and that he was motivated by vanity and the desire for approval. He began to talk of the weather, saying that it would be a very hot summer and adding that the seasons had changed greatly since he was a boy—a long time ago. Lenehan hurried on in the same direction. It was seventeen minutes past eleven: she would have lots of time to have the matter out with Mr Doran and then catch short twelve at Marlborough Street. When I came home to dinner my uncle had not yet been home. Unable to find a sixpenny entrance, he quickly enters through a more expensive entrance to get into the market before it closes.
But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires. But that afternoon, through his spyglass, he saw her in the offing, and later in the day she steamed slowly in among the other craft, and dropped anchor in her accustomed place. You could see that. Their cries reached me weakened and indistinct and, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, I looked over at the dark house where she lived. At night in my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between me and the page I strove to read. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen.
He was fussing at the hallstand, looking for the hat-brush, and answered me curtly: "Yes, boy, I know. We went out to Donnybrook and I brought her into a field there. Carwood opened his eyes in astonish- ment. While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Of course, they say it was all right, that it contained nothing, I mean. My aunt brought the dish from the safe and put it on the table.
All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: "O love! We blessed ourselves and came away. The upper part of the hall was now completely dark. What is cold water to cham- pagne? Mahony began to play the Indian as soon as we were out of public sight. I remarked their English accents and listened vaguely to their conversation. He had been a very charitable priest; in his will he had left all his money to institutions and the furniture of his house to his sister. He stood up to put on his coat and waistcoat, more helpless than ever.
