Maria had to laugh and say she didn’t want any ring or man either; and when she laughed her grey-green eyes sparkled with disappointed shyness and the tip of her nose nearly met the tip of her chin.
So funny to see her nose and chin brought up again, hammering in these facial features for this likeable character, so we get an overall image of who she really is.
THE matron had given her leave to go out as soon as the women’s tea was over and Maria looked forward to her evening out.
Medias res, again, but also, we have established our main focal character by the first sentence. We know that the rest of the narrative might be about Maria's evening out, just by the introduction.
“Come down, dear. Mr. Doran wants to speak to you.” Then she remembered what she had been waiting for.
I think Polly knew all along that this would work out. A bit devious of her, but she had to do what she had to do.
It was a bright Sunday morning of early summer, promising heat, but with a fresh breeze blowing. All the windows of the boarding house were open and the lace curtains ballooned gently towards the street beneath the raised sashes.
The way that Joyce is describing the scenery is very reminiscent of how Mansfield describes the scenery of their stories. Vivid imagery, very detailed, describing everything down to the weather.
boarding house in Hardwicke Street
Wasn't sure what a boarding house was exactly. I felt like it was something like a hotel, and it kind of is. It is more like a mix of a hotel and an apartment after I had looked it up.
Ernest was dead and Harry, who was in the church decorating business, was nearly always down somewhere in the country.
I am noticing that death is often mentioned in most of Joyce's stories, whether it be the main focal point, or said just in passing. Death is mentioned at least once. Why is that?
her mother was dead.
whoops, never mind.
. Her father was not so bad then; and besides, her mother was alive.
I think this hints at the fact that her father is dead as she says "and besides, her bother was alive". I feel like this implies that her father, on the contrary, is dead.
SHE
I am noticing that the first words of the stories are in all capitals. Why is that? Is it just direct formatting from the book itself?
Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.
I have never heard anyone described the frustrations of love like this. Just one sentence, but a very emotive one. The sentence conveys exactly how he is feeling.
I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: “O love! O love!” many times.
Unlike "An Encounter" religion is the forefront of this story. It truly makes sense as Catholicism is a prevalent religious belief in Ireland. A lot of events may revolve around religion then.
The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back drawing-room.
Another death, right in the beginning of the story. Again, the death of a religious figure/character.
He described to me how he would whip such a boy as if he were unfolding some elaborate mystery. He would love that, he said, better than anything in this world; and his voice, as he led me monotonously through the mystery, grew almost affectionate and seemed to plead with me that I should understand him.
This is very odd, I am not sure why but this makes me uncomfortable. Why is this man implying that he would enjoy getting whipped and that boys should be whipped. Maybe I have the meaning behind this situation confused.
miching.
I have never heard this term before, maybe this is a common term in Irish vernacular. When I Googled it, miching means to hide, sulk, cowardly.
vocation for the priesthood.
So far in these stores, there is a reoccurring religious undertone. Religion is not the main focus of the story, however, it seems sprinkled into the context.
Father O’Rourke and another priest that was there brought in a light for to look for him…. And what do you think but there he was, sitting up by himself in the dark in his confession-box, wide-awake and laughing-like softly to himself?”
This situation is very sad, it shows that Father Flynn might have been deteriorating both mentally and physically. It is interesting to hear Eliza's point of view, compared to the Boys' perspective in the beginning.
Though I was angry with old Cotter for alluding to me as a child, I puzzled my head to extract meaning from his unfinished sentences. In the dark of my room I imagined that I saw again the heavy grey face of the paralytic.
The writing of this story is very interesting, because although it does not seem formal, some words are difficult for me to understand. This makes it a bit hard to follow along with the narrative a bit.
THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night
What a captivating way to start a story, pulled me right in, three-stroke? How did he survive? So many questions need to be answered.
They were strangers to him.
Mr. Neave seemed to have worked so hard to build the perfect family, he had not been apart of this perfect family. The workaholic dad mentality is so distorted for that reason. The cycle of work, home, then work again is not as rewarding as it might seem.
e’d gone in for hobbies, he’d like to know? Hobbies couldn’t pay for the town house and the seaside bungalow, and their horses, and their golf, and the sixty-guinea gramophone in the music-room for them to dance to. Not that he grudged them these things.
Typical hard-working dad. Has no other time for things except for work. Without his work he would not have this ideal family, supposedly.
Harold sauntered in, perfectly turned out as usual, cool, suave, smiling that peculiar little half-smile that women found so fascinating.
In Mansfield stories, there seems to always be a very attractive character or described person. It is not often a man, so for Harold to be the attractive character in this story is surprising.
she smiled at him more radiantly than ever. She didn’t even recognise him again.
I feel a sense of finally living in the moment for Lelia. There was disappointment in the know edge of getting older, but living in the moment washed it all away.
crying because she was an only child, and no brother had ever said
I really do relate to Leila because I was also a sheltered only child. The ball, to everyone else, was a mundane event. but to Leila it was so exciting. I felt like this all the time. I was always so excited for small events like the movies, to go to a birthday party, even to the park with a friend, because it was such a rare occasion.
Have you really never been to a ball before, Leila? But, my child, how too weird—” cried the Sheridan girls. “Our nearest neighbour was fifteen miles,” said Leila softly, gently opening and shutting her fan.
Leila seems very sheltered. Her first ball, as the title implies, must be a very important point in her life. It could be a monumental event.
And, laughing, in the new way, she ran down the stairs.
An ambiguous ending, very typical of a Mansfield story. It is sad to see someone you love change, it is upsetting that she did not write immediately. Personally, I do not feel as if this is the 'new' Isabel, but just who Isabel was all along. There is a juxtaposition between the 'new' Isabel and the old Isabel in this story that I feel does not truly exist. She, as Isabel, is responsible for all of her actions, there is no division in personality. It is just Isabel.
Please! Please don’t be so dreadfully stuffy and—tragic. You’re always saying or looking or hinting that I’ve changed. Just because I’ve got to know really congenial people, and go about more, and am frightfully keen on—on everything, you behave as though I’d—
This is the reason why William described Isabel as "the new Isabel". She is aware that she has changed, truthfully it seems that she been becoming more affluent, and might have changed with that. It is a point of contingency in their relationship.
“Good heavens—why! I—I don’t mind it a bit. I—I like waiting.
She is so young, yet always waiting around for her mother. I guess this is why her character is so ambiguous, because though she is young, she does not live doing what she wants to do. Her mother, who she waits for, is named, but since her daughter's life is filled of waiting for her mother, she remains unnamed.
Hennie and I
Who is the narrator of this story? There are a couple characters introduced, and a lot of dialogue, but the narrator, who refers to themselves as I, has not been introduced by name.
he was bored—bored as though Heaven had been full of casinos with snuffy old saints for croupiers and crowns to play with.
I guess we know who the young girl is, to give context to the title. I wonder how young she is, and why she's at the Casino. It says that she is there for her flight, but what flight would be at the Casino?
esstrordinary
Here is another instance where words are written how they are pronounced instead of how they are written, it adds more to the story, I can hear Grandfather Pinner in my head. However, what problems does this cause in an analysis?
But how could she explain to Constantia that father was in the chest of drawers? He was in the top drawer with his handkerchiefs and neckties, or in the next with his shirts and pyjamas, or in the lowest of all with his suits. He was watching there, hidden away—just behind the door-handle—ready to spring.
I know that this is metaphorical probably, but its sounds very creepy.
Even when they went to bed it was only their bodies that lay down and rested; their minds went on, thinking things out, talking things over, wondering, deciding, trying to remember where...
Looking at the title, I am assuming that these are the daughter's mourning after the loss of their father, as the actions described are typical for people after a loss.
“There’s been a horrible accident,” said Cook. “A man killed.” “A man killed! Where? How? When?”
That was sudden, so sudden it was shocking. We had just been hearing about such a happy, uplifting seen of the set up of a garden party, and now someone dies? Seems out of place, but that is what might keep readers reading.
how extraordinarily nice workmen were
Interesting, there is a hint of a class divide here. Laura is surprised at the actions of the working men, as if she is not exposed to them often. She must be of higher class, sheltered possibly.
karaka-trees
This is an obvious give away that this story is set in New Zealand, as this is where these trees are native. They are also known as the New Zealand Laurel. Really sets the stage for the story.
“Ella”–was often on his lips at this time.
The romance that probably made him become so infatuated with Rachel and Blake's relationship.
He died in my arms, at sunrise, on Wednesday last.
So many deaths in the book, people who I somewhat expected to die, but I am still surprised. I could predict that Ezra was going to die from his well established disease and opium addiction, but I thought he was going to live as his narrative wasn't too long ago.
magnificent gem
I have looked for the word gem many times. When they speak of the "Diamond" or the "Moonstone" there are capitalized instances. It is obvious that the "magnificent gem" refers to the moonstone, but why is it not personified here?
It is known (1) that the Indians had an interest in possessing themselves of the Diamond. (2) It is at least probable that the man looking like an Indian, whom Octavius Guy saw at the window of the cab, speaking to the man dressed like a mechanic, was one of the three Hindoo conspirators. (3) It is certain that this same man dressed like a mechanic, was seen keeping Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite in view, all through the evening of the 26th, and was found in the bedroom (before Mr. Ablewhite was shown into it) under circumstances which lead to the suspicion that he was examining the room. (4) A morsel of torn gold thread was picked up in the bedroom, which persons expert in such matters, declare to be of Indian manufacture, and to be a species of gold thread not known in England. (5) On the morning of the 27th, three men, answering to the description of the three Indians, were observed in Lower Thames Street, were traced to the Tower Wharf, and were seen to leave London by the steamer bound for Rotterdam.
I can not tell if Geodfrey was actually killed by Indians or if this is just a scapegoat.
It ends, Mr. Ezra Jennings, in a conjuring trick being performed on Mr. Franklin Blake, by a doctor’s assistant with a bottle of laudanum–and by the living jingo, I’m appointed, in my old age, to be conjurer’s boy!”
Not sure if anyone is struggling as much as me reading this sentence, but after looking up what "laudanum" I think this has something to do with Blake on opium, possibly unintentionally? Still a bit confused.
Oh merciful Death, let me see it before your arms enfold me, before your voice whispers to me, “Rest at last!”
Interesting, capitalization of death, personifying it further by calling it merciful. Also, Ezra is being quite dramatic, reminds me of writings in Shakespearian times.
“I will tell you why, Rachel. You are the victim, and I am the victim, of some monstrous delusion which has worn the mask of truth. If we look at what happened on the night of your birthday together, we may end in understanding each other yet.”
I have noticed this running, I guess motif, of faces and 'masking' of the truth within the novel. The sands have faces and seem to be hiding something, possibly reflecting the masking of the truth within the characters. Typical for a mystery/detective novel, but interesting nonetheless.
Myself as the Thief.
This was of course very shocking as we more suspected Rosanna more than anyone. I am surprised that he did not know that he did it. I wonder if the tobacco withdrawal is the culprit, not sure if that is how it affects someone, but the loss in sleep may account for the memory loss.
I attempted to direct Limping Lucy’s attention to some less revolting object than my face.
Very funny, very self-deprecating which I think is very much part of British humor. I never really thought of Blake as arrogant of pretentious and this confirms it a bit
undeniable example of the inbred frailty and perversity of the other sex
I really don't know what this means, but it sounds very insulting and almost misogynistic. Again though, I do not know what it means.
Mr. Luker was, in every respect, such an inferior creature to the Indian–he was so vulgar, so ugly, so cringing, and so prosy–that he is quite unworthy of being reported, at any length, in these pages.
Goodness, this is pretty rude, I would not like for anyone to talk about me in this way. These characters are pretty vicious when they do not like someone. Miss Clack, Betteredge, now Mr.Bluff, they are all pretty shady.
It was done in a moment, in a noiseless, supple, cat-like way, which a little startled me,
I wonder why was the silence startling? Is it some kind of stereotypical, discrimination of the way he perceives Indians to be?
Lady Verinder was no more.
Oh wow, I am surprised that another character has died since the Moonstone has been stolen. This feels connected to the curse, even though Lady Verinder was ill.
most unladylike rate of speed
This makes me cackle because I genuinely do not know how fast is the "most unladylike rate of speed". Miss Clack seems a bit uptight but has a great sense of humor.
In later life (alas!) the Hymn has been succeeded by sad and bitter meditations;
I interpret this as a feeling of sadness that comes with growing up. The Hymn was a signaling of a good nights rest as a child, now it is associated with bad sleep.
The tide ebbed, and the tide flowed; the summer went on, and the autumn came. And the Quicksand, which hid her body, hid her secret too.
This is beautiful and poet, but I could not help to notice again, why is quicksand capitalized?? Is quicksand personified as a living entity?
She was quick at her needle.
Is this a metaphor or is this literal? I have no idea what this means? Is this old timey talk?
Miss Rachel came downstairs–very nicely dressed in some soft yellow stuff, that set off her dark complexion, and clipped her tight (in the form of a jacket) round the waist. She had a smart little straw hat on her head, with a white veil twisted round it. She had primrose-coloured gloves that fitted her hands like a second skin. Her beautiful black hair looked as smooth as satin under her hat. Her little ears were like rosy shells–they had a pearl dangling from each of them. She came swiftly out to us, as straight as a lily on its stem, and as lithe and supple in every movement she made as a young cat. Nothing that I could discover was altered in her pretty face, but her eyes and her lips. Her eyes were brighter and fiercer than I liked to see; and her lips had so completely lost their colour and their smile that I hardly knew them again. She kissed her mother in a hasty and sudden manner on the cheek. She said, “Try to forgive me, mamma”–and then pulled down her veil over her face so vehemently that she tore it. In another moment she had run down the steps, and had rushed into the carriage as if it was a hiding-place.
Very very detailed description of Miss Rachel and her appearance. You can imagine exactly what she is wearing, what her facial features might be like, and what the is doing. This might be the most detailed character description so far.
There, on either side of her, knelt the two Bouncers, devouring the jewel with their eyes, and screaming with ecstasy every time it flashed on them in a new light.
I feel like this sentence really shows how beautiful, and important this Moonstone may be. With all the backstory of its importance, I really didn't understand how beautiful and mesmerizing it is until this point. The words "devouring" and "ecstasy" convey how alluring the Moonstone is.
I am not superstitious; I have read a heap of books in my time; I am a scholar in my own way. Though turned seventy, I possess an active memory, and legs to correspond.
I believe this is the most that we know about the narrator at this point. Before this, it was much more focused on the characters around him, especially his cousin. I am surprised to know that he is 70, not sure why I expected the story to be narrated by a young man.
The man turned at the instant when I came in, and I saw John Herncastle, with a torch in one hand, and a dagger dripping with blood in the other. A stone, set like a pommel, in the end of the dagger’s handle, flashed in the torchlight, as he turned on me, like a gleam of fire.
These sentences are so descriptive, I can vividly imagine the scene at hand. The imagery is very rich, and this is very well written.
partly from a superstition which represented it as feeling the influence of the deity whom it adorned, and growing and lessening in lustre with the waxing and waning of the moon, it first gained the name by which it continues to be known in India to this day–the name of THE MOONSTONE.
I really enjoy this brief history of the Moonstone. It is the name of the work, so it is always good to know why the work is named what it is. It sets up the stage for possibly the rest of the story.