Araby

The narrator and protagonist of “Araby” leaves a great deal unsaid, including his own name and the name of the girl he supposedly loved. Even the fate of his parents passes unmentioned; the narrator lives with his aunt and uncle, which implies that his own parents are either dead or not present in his life. Absent or deceased parents are a feature of the Irish society depicted in Dubliners, though the narrator of “Araby” refrains from commenting on the society as a whole just as much as he refrains from commenting on many aspects of his own life.

The narrator does expand on the life of the priest who once lived in the house which belongs to his aunt and uncle. The old priest died and left behind possessions. The priest’s presence lingers in the house as a ghostly figure, most notably with his books and musty, lived-in odor, which suggests that the house has not yet shed itself of its past. The narrator is more fascinated by the dead priest and his possessions than his own past, at least to the point that he is happy to dwell on the idea. Death is a constant presence in the story, whether expressed through negative space (as in the few references to the narrator’s absent parents) or in strange obsessions (as in the priest’s ghostly presence).

Just as the narrator does not give himself a name, he does not give a name to the girl whom he loves. The object of his affections is referenced only as Mangan’s sister. The narrator is not alone in lusting after her; her nightly ritual of stepping out of Mangan’s house to end the boys’ game is enough to attract male attention from around the neighborhood. The narrator is a young, naïve, and innocent figure. He falls quickly for Mangan’s sister, and his lack of romantic experience infuses his affection with a comical profundity. He feels tortured and devoted to a girl who barely recognizes his existence. Though she dominates his thoughts to the point where he believes that he is having a religious experience, she hardly seems to think about the narrator at all.

The occasional references to the Catholic Church hint at why the narrator and his peers might struggle to express their emotions. The nature of Catholic belief in Ireland in the late 19th and early 20th centuries means that the narrator feels guilty and ashamed of his desire, repressing his emotion and expressing his lust through religious motifs to justify his feelings. Feeling shame for his romantic desire, the narrator withdraws into himself. He watches Mangan’s sister through his window, and he follows her along the street when she walks to school. The physical distance represents the emotional gulf between them as well as a divide which he is hesitant to cross. Even when the narrator does give voice to his loving feelings, he does so in a religious manner. He breaks down and mutters declarations of love to Mangan’s sister which resemble dark, cloistered Catholic confession booths. In the home which once belonged to a priest, religion haunts the narrator’s emotions just as much as the specter of death.

When Mangan’s sister finally breaks the silence between herself and the narrator, the narrator is ecstatic. Her passing mention of the Araby Bazaar gives him an opportunity to demonstrate his love. However, alcohol thwarts his plan. His uncle goes out drinking and, by the time he returns, the hour is almost too late, and he has forgotten about his promise to his nephew. The narrator, who has explained his love in religious terms, almost has his plan ruined by his uncle’s vice. However, the narrator endures. He tolerates his uncle’s faults and rushes to the bazaar, hoping to find a gift for Mangan’s sister that will perfectly encapsulate his feelings toward her.

His experience at the bazaar is chastening. The stalls contain nothing which interests him, and the imminent closure of the market means that he has no time to dwell on any potential gift. When a shopkeeper asks him whether he wants to buy anything, he is overcome by a revelation. She is a grown woman, and she is flirting with two grown men. The nature of her conversation with the men reveals to the narrator the absurdity of his own romantic feelings. She does not take the narrator seriously, and her attitude becomes a damning indictment of his foolish behavior. The narrator realizes that he is not unique or special in any way; his affection for Mangan’s sister is just a childhood crush. This revelation makes the narrator angry and anguished. He is distraught and embarrassed that he has taken himself so seriously, worried that he could be so vain as to think that his love was unique or special.

Ironically, his closing paragraph hints that he cannot quite escape this feeling. Even though he feels foolish, he is not content to simply slink home and give up on his ideas. Instead, he describes his pain in extreme ways. He is not just a young boy who has made a mistake. Just like his love, his shame is expressed in almost religious terms. He is not just a boy, he is a “creature” (254) with shameful, burning eyes. While the narrator might have realized the absurdity of his declarations of love, he cannot quite escape his tendency to frame his emotions in a self-important and religious way.