Dubliners is a collection of fifteen short stories written by James Joyce and published in 1914.
These stories realistically describe life for the lower and middle classes in Dublin at the turn of the 20th century. Joyce examines the mental, cultural, and social paralysis of the city’s inhabitants, including the pressures associated with British rule and the Catholic Church.
The stories were written during a period of cultural and political change, before the 1916 Easter Rising, the 1921 Anglo-Irish Treaty, and the establishment of the Irish Free State in 1922. They reflect debates about nationalism, identity, and emigration.
The collection’s sequence moves from childhood through adolescence and adulthood toward public life, culminating in “The Dead.”
These are the stories included in the book:
PDF · Dubliners — didn't start? Download again
Also available: PDF · EPUB · MOBI · Read online
Download the EPUB and send it with Amazon's Send to Kindle (web, app, or your kindle.com email). Modern Kindles accept EPUB directly — no conversion needed.
Tap the downloaded file, then "Open in Books". It opens in Apple Books, with your reading progress synced across your devices.
Open the file with Google Play Books or any EPUB reader (ReadEra, Moon+ Reader). PDFs open in any viewer.
PDFs open anywhere. For EPUB, try Calibre or Thorium Reader — both free and excellent.
Public domain (US)·No sign-up·DRM-free·Real text, not scans
Copyright note. Dubliners by James Joyce is believed to be in the public domain in the United States only. It may still be copyrighted in other countries. If you are not in the United States, please check your local laws to ensure this eBook is in the public domain in your country before downloading Dubliners in PDF or EPUB.
112 years later, still timely
City rooms, quiet epiphanies, and the ache of almost. Joyce writes small moments with surgical mercy.
Stalled plans and sudden insight feel familiar. These stories sharpen attention and teach how to read the lives around us without cruelty.
Streets steer choices.
Seeing what was there.
Truth without contempt.
Share this book
On GhostsMary Shelley
The Happy Prince and Other TalesOscar Wilde
Monday or TuesdayVirginia Woolf
The DecameronGiovanni Boccaccio
One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.
She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed.
But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.
I wanted real adventure to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.
I had never spoken to her, except for a few casual words, and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.