st for a moment. The final display of dishonesty comes with Gabriel’s speech, which is filled with things he doesn’t really feel. Having recently told Molly Ivors “I’m sick of my own country, sick of it!” (p. 199), he contradicts himself when he speaks of “genuine warm-hearted courteous Irish hospitality” (p. 213) He also denies his previous view of his aunts as “two ignorant old women” and talks highly of them in his speech as part of the “Three Graces of Dublin.” Gabriel praises them shamelessly and all the while, he is simply concealing his real self in order to conform to standards of his class. Joyce makes this point the clearest in the story, however, during the speech. As the crowd begins to sing “For they are jolly gay fellows”, the singers turn to each other and “with emphasis” they add “Unless he tells a lie, Unless he tells a lie.” Of course the song continues and any suggestion of Gabriel’s dishonesty is once more forgotten, except by the reader, who can now truly begin to see through the faade of their world. The parallel to this continual theme of forced ignorance is the more natural phenomenon of snow. In the beginning Gabriel enters the party, his coat lightly dusted with snow. Snow here is symbolic, as snow tends to cover things and therefore obscure the truth. When the caretaker’s daughter, Lily, helps him off with his coat he comments that “...we’re in for a night of [snow].” (p. 186) This foreshadows that the evening will be one of deception and the guests will hide their true feelings behind convention and tradition. The snow becomes an important image again as Gabriel finds himself staring out the window and wishing he were outside. “How much more pleasant it would be there than at the supper table!” (p. 201) he thinks to himself, but he cannot say this, as he is...
