Don’t Be Like Gabriel

The universal goal among us is one of self preservation. The instinctual—seemingly justified—will to live a long life. For some reason, we have been ingrained with the idea that living longer is somehow better. Why we assign time as the ultimate value in the universe is probably a product of our limp, flaccid way of living: one that encourages the status quo and produces the ultimate sense of ennui permeating through nearly everyone’s minds. In Dubliners, through the contrast of Gabriel and Michael, James Joyce asserts why this over-simplified view of human life doesn’t result in the best outcomes. Especially for Gabriel. 

It’s the early 1900s, and life for the middle class is slowly becoming more and more comfortable. Gabriel, a well educated Irish man, seems to be the pinnacle of what life is all about—confidence, appearance, intelligence—he’s got it all. Even Gabriel believes he has it all. Yet when life comes crumbling down for Gabriel, through the knowledge of his wife’s dead lover, he has no answers. Stuck in unfocused thinking patterns about impending mortality, Gabriel’s epiphany centers around his previously unrealized lack of purpose. Gabriel, despite his appearance, doesn’t have it all figured out. 

Appearance plays an important role in defining Gabriel, even for Gabriel himself. He must appear wealthy, intelligent, and stoic to receive any praise from others, who in turn give Gabriel the praise he desperately needs for his fragile sense of self-worth. Gabriel followed society’s blueprint, yet still lives his life for others for fear of losing his purpose. When it becomes obvious this isn’t working, Gabriel spirals out of control, driving home the central question Joyce is asking his readers: what is the true meaning of life and death? 

Life is life and death is death, as we’re taught, and living is always better than dying. ‘Don’t smoke cigarettes—they lower your lifespan by fifteen years!’ ‘Don’t drive too fast—you could lose control and harm yourself or others!’ These sentiments, and many, many more are instilled within our very being from infancy. While I agree with some of these sentiments, especially those that warn about the harming of others, I do not agree with the no fun attitude expressed throughout all of society. Apparently James Joyce didn’t either, with his excessive use of Morphine and Cocaine at the end of his career. 

Although it may seem through my mixed signals that I am encouraging all who read this to go on Morphine and Cocaine binges (hopefully not at the same time), I only use these to illustrate a point. Blindly following conventional wisdom leads to the life of Gabriel. A life dedicated to proving one’s own existence. Just because one is alive and well does not mean they are alive and well. Death can be physical, death can be mental, but true death is the death of Gabriel: living a life without purpose, without passion. Living the one life he has for others instead of himself. Living the one life he has, already dead.