James Joyce

Chief among the reasons why Joyce rejected religion was the supreme confidence he displayed in his own genius. He was afraid of failure "least of all," according to Frank Budgen, an artist Joyce befriended in Zurich during World War I. "His confidence in himself was as unbounded as it appeared to be," Budgen wrote. Still, Joyce felt entirely misunderstood, a perception that hindered his relationships.

A number of influential Irish writers, including Russell and Yeats, recognized Joyce's ability and tried to assist his writing career, but Joyce possessed an arrogance that, despite his young age, allowed him to speak fearlessly. Even his first meeting with Yeats did not faze him. Yeats recalled that Joyce approached him in the street, saying that he had written some poems and that they had a common friend ( Russell, who had spoken highly of Joyce to Yeats). Yeats agreed to meet Joyce to listen to his work, after which he offered praise and support. Joyce replied, "I really don't care whether you like what I'm doing or not. It won't make the least difference to me. Indeed I don't know why I'm reading to you." Joyce then continued his assault, objecting to everything Yeats had written and asking him why he wasted his time on politics and folklore. He implied that Yeats had lost his creative inspiration. The discussion went on until Joyce got up to leave, stating his age and asking Yeats about his. Yeats told him, and Joyce replied with a sigh, "I thought as much. I have met you too late. You are too old." Yeats reported to friends, "Never have I seen so much pretension with so little to show for it." Joyce later told Budgen that the conversation as reported was untrue. Stanislaus conceded that James always denied the story, but he ( Stanislaus) believed it to be substantially correct.

Regardless, Yeats continued to help Joyce when possible. One example was his effort in 1915 to garner financial support for Joyce in wartime Zurich ; an appreciative Joyce replied, "I cannot thank you enough for your kindness in taking so much trouble in the matter." As years passed, Joyce showed respect for the Irish poet, often reciting Yeats's work from memory. Their friendship lasted until Yeats's death in 1939. In his final homage, Joyce sent a funeral wreath and tribute to the grave.

But it was Joyce's impetuous nature that caused him to air grievances, to seek revenge, and, ultimately, to escape enemies who did not exist. Joyce, in fact, made an impressive group of friends in Dublin precisely because of his own positive characteristics. He had a keen and curious mind, a sharp sense of humor, a love of literature, music, and history, and a gift for conversation that, somewhat unfortunately for Joyce, thrived mainly in small settings. Yet, Joyce often felt that his Dublin friends did not understand or support him - even as they were lending him money or taking an active interest in his writing - and he would accuse them accordingly.

Joyce's impatience with Ireland was reflected in the statements of his fictional (but highly autobiographical) characters. In A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Stephen Dedalus observed, " Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow." Joyce's exasperation probably was best expressed through Stephen Dedalus's comment, "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." Joyce had little reason or intent to remain in his native land.

How curious Joyce was about the response of his friends to his departure is somewhat vague. At times he appeared to be unconcerned over how others viewed him. When Byrne and he were discussing the accuracy of a biography on Joyce years later, Joyce exclaimed, "Ah, sure I don't care what they write." Byrne stated, "At no time since I knew him, and that was from the time he was 11 years old, did Joyce care what the vast majority of people said or wrote about him."