In The Dead is a story that could have gone many different ways. Taking place at a party, the reader wonders with each interaction where the plot may be headed–especially given the title. Dubliners Gabriel Conroy and his wife Gretta attend the annual dance hosted by his spinster aunts around the time of Epiphany in early January. While there he mixes with his aunts and the varied guests and generally finds himself unsure of himself and feeling rather awkward. At the end of the evening he becomes emotionally and physically amorous towards his wife. But he finds her worlds away. When pressed, Gretta tells him about her profound loss over the death of a loved one when she was seventeen. For a few reasons the story effects Gabriel deeply and one senses that he might be on the edge of a personal epiphany.
Better to pass boldy into that other world in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.
The Verdict: Much to my surprise I really liked this novella. Up to this point I had sworn off James Joyce. I think The Dead has me reconsidering that.