Little Chandler: Inferiority and Courage in Dubliners

When we first encounter Little Chandler in “A Little Cloud,” it immediately becomes clear that the protagonist in this chapter of James Joyce’s Dubliners is deliberately and aptly named. We are told early on that in addition to his small stature, Little Chandler “gave one the idea of being a little man” (Joyce 53). His smallness is underscored by the frequent and overpowering references to his friend and imagined competitor, Ignatius Gallaher, and relegates Little Chandler to an inferior position even within his own story. Yet Little Chandler’s implicit and explicit inferiority is punctuated by moments of courage and hope, and he does try, however briefly, to exalt himself as he walks the streets of Dublin. The narrator, expressing Little Chandler’s

thoughts and attitudes, describes the city as filthy and impoverished, which might make Little Chandler’s “neat modest figure” (54) appear noble and dignified in comparison. But in drawing attention to Dublin’s squalor, Little Chandler highlights, rather than conceals, his own shortcomings and becomes dwarfed by the city. Specifically, Little Chandler’s warped and exaggerated perception of Dublin, rather than elevating Little Chandler to a higher status, serves to diminish his image because he becomes incapable of achieving any kind of personal progress despite his forward movement through the city.
When Little Chandler passes by “a horde of grimy children” (54) on Henrietta Street, he behaves as though they are unworthy of a moment of his attention. As he strides forward, “Little Chandler gave them no thought. He picked his way deftly through all that minute vermin-like life and under the shadow of the gaunt spectral mansions in which the old nobility of Dublin had roistered” (54). But while Little Chandler may not give the “vermin-like” children any profound consideration or respect, he does not fully elevate himself above that which is supposed to be beneath him. By “[picking] his way deftly” through the street, he does not pass by the children completely without notice. He must carefully and consciously make his way through the masses in order to move past them. This places Little Chandler closely among them, rather than occupying a more desirable position above or separate from the children. Nor do his architectural surroundings give his position any consequence. The “gaunt” and “spectral” mansions loom over him. Although large and imposing by nature, are dilapidated and incorporeal, yet they still cast a shadow over him as he moves through the street, meaning that he is dominated and obscured by something that does not appear to have a strong, tangible presence. And, given that Dublin’s “old nobility” once occupied and “roistered” in these buildings, Little Chandler is again excluded from a group which would align more closely with his heightened perception of himself. Obviously, the old nobility no longer inhabits these mansions, but he still visibly overshadowed by the old nobility’s former glory as well as the buildings that once housed its “roistering.”
At the same time, Little Chandler does not appear daunted or affected by the past, or at least his own personal history. As he continues along Henrietta Street, “no memory of the past touched him, for his mind was full of a present joy” (54). Jeri Johnson notes that this sentence alludes to a song in the opera Maritana, which casts aside the memory of the past because it elicits feelings of “sweet, though sad regret” and “guilty thoughts o’ercast” (228). In this vein, Little Chandler can move through Dublin without any burden to inhibit his emotional ascent. But while this sentiment could be liberating, it eliminates Little Chandler’s agency. He is the passive object of memory’s touch, or lack thereof, so he does not have to directly confront the past or any regret or guilt he may be harboring. Likewise, such guilt or regret will remain unaddressed and unconquered. He can move forward through the city fully engrossed in his “present joy,” but any negative emotions still have the potential to resurface in the future, and, by extension, may serve to undermine any conscious effort to effectively enhance his self perception.
This is not to say that Little Chandler is incapable of confronting anything. Despite his habits of “[walking] swiftly in the street” and “always [passing] without turning his head to look” at people he finds intimidating, he does try to conquer sources of apprehension within the city:
Sometimes, however, he courted the causes of his fear. He chose the darkest and narrowest streets and, as he walked boldly forward, the silence that was spread about his footsteps troubled him, the wandering silent figures troubled him; and at times a sound of low fugitive laughter made him tremble like a leaf” (Joyce 54).
Although he is clearly frightened by his surroundings, one could argue that Little Chandler does appear brave and exalted by trying to address his fears by consciously walking into a potentially dangerous area. But it is important to note that while Little Chandler may seek out certain paths with the intention of actually observing his surroundings, he perceives the city as actively threatening. By being “spread about his footsteps,” the silence appears to target Little Chandler and works to diminish any audible presence he may have in the street. Moreover, the close repetition of the words “silence” and “silent,” along with “troubled,” magnify Little Chandler’s sense of immediate peril to the point where he simply reacts to his surroundings instead of continuing to “court” his fear. It is difficult to imagine, therefore, that Little Chandler can become a superior, towering figure, in reality or in his own mind, when he not only perceives that the city as a hostile entity, but also allows it to frighten him and mitigate what little courage he displays.
Yet Little Chandler, despite his inability to fully interact with various elements within the city, does possess a remarkable ability to contemplate the streets of Dublin in a perceptive and insightful way.

This is most evident when he observes that the “poor stunted houses” on Capel Street “seemed to him a band of tramps, huddled together along the river-banks, their old coats covered with dust and soot stupefied by the panorama of sunset and waiting for the first chill of night to bid them arise, shake themselves, and begone” (55). This demeaning but powerful personification is highly evocative and is arguably one of the most poignant descriptions of Dublin not only in “A Little Cloud,” but in all of Dubliners. These memorable words never make it onto the page in Little Chandler’s world, emphasizing how Little Chandler’s paralyzing doubts over whether he, as an aspiring poet, can actually “write something original” (55) prevent him from fully realizing his potential. But it is important to recognize that Little Chandler is an example of failed potential, rather than a complete lack of potential. In other words, he may limit himself as he walks through the streets of Dublin, and these self-imposed barriers may be reflected in his perceptions of the city, but his vision and capacity to capture the city are substantial even though his stature and presence are

minute.