Portrett av kunstneren som ung mann

av (forfatter) og Herbert Svenkerud (oversetter).

Cappelen 2004 Heftet

Gjennomsnittlig terningkast: 4.89 (18 terningkast.)

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Boka er en selvbiografisk roman, og handler om Stephen Dedalus. Historien ligner Joyces egen oppvekst: barnerik familie, morens strev, farens sjarm og uansvarlighet og familiens sosiale fall. Stephen føler og vet at han er annerledes, at han har en annen slags begavelse; han er en kunstner.

Omtale fra forlaget

Bokdetaljer

Forlag Cappelen

Utgivelsesår 2004

Format Heftet

ISBN13 9788202236083

EAN 9788202236083

Serie Cappelens klassikere

Genre Klassisk litteratur

Omtalt tid 1800-tallet

Omtalt sted Dublin

Språk Bokmål

Sider 278

Utgave 1

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Øynene hennes hadde kalt på ham, og sjelen hans hadde sprunget henne i møte. Å leve, å feile, å falle, å seire, å gjenskape liv av liv! En vill engel hadde vist seg for ham, ungdommens og skjønnhetens - forgjengelighetens engel, et sendebud fra livets fagre hoff som var kommet for i et øyeblikk av ekstase å åpne for ham porten inn til all verdens synd og herlighet.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo . . .

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

She was alone and still, gazing out to sea; and when she felt his presence and the worship of his eyes her eyes turned to him in quiet sufferance of his gaze, without shame or wantonness. Long, long she suffered his gaze and then quietly withdrew her eyes from his and bent them towards the stream, gently stirring the water with her foot hither and thither. The first faint noise of gently moving water broke the silence, low and faint and whispering, faint as the bells of sleep; hither and thither, hither and thither: and a faint flame trembled on her cheek.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

To merge his life in the common tide of other lives was harder for him than any fasting or prayer, and it was his constant failure to do this to his own satisfaction which caused in his soul at last a sensation of spiritual dryness together with a growth of doubts and scruples.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes had called him and his soul had leaped at the call.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

The phrase and the day and the scene harmonized in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the grey-fringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language many-coloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?

Godt sagt! (0) Varsle Svar

I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use — silence, exile and cunning.

Godt sagt! (0) Varsle Svar

What was after the universe? Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began?

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Godt sagt! (12) Varsle Svar

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