After the Race

by James Joyce

　　THE cars came scudding in towards Dublin, running evenly likepellets in the groove of the Naas Road. At the crest of the hill atInchicore sightseers had gathered in clumps to watch the carscareering homeward and through this channel of poverty andinaction the Continent sped its wealth and industry. Now and againthe clumps of people raised the cheer of the gratefully oppressed.Their sympathy, however, was for the blue cars -- the cars of theirfriends, the French.The French, moreover, were virtual victors. Their team hadfinished solidly; they had been placed second and third and thedriver of the winning German car was reported a Belgian. Eachblue car, therefore, received a double measure of welcome as ittopped the crest of the hill and each cheer of welcome wasacknowledged with smiles and nods by those in the car. In one ofthese trimly built cars was a party of four young men whose spiritsseemed to be at present well above the level of successfulGallicism: in fact, these four young men were almost hilarious.They were Charles Segouin, the owner of the car; Andre Riviere, ayoung electrician of Canadian birth; a huge Hungarian namedVillona and a neatly groomed young man named Doyle. Segouinwas in good humour because he had unexpectedly received someorders in advance (he was about to start a motor establishment inParis) and Riviere was in good humour because he was to beappointed manager of the establishment; these two young men(who were cousins) were also in good humour because of thesuccess of the French cars. Villona was in good humour becausehe had had a very satisfactory luncheon; and besides he was anoptimist by nature. The fourth member of the party, however, wastoo excited to be genuinely happy.He was about twenty-six years of age, with a soft, light brownmoustache and rather innocent-looking grey eyes. His father, whohad begun life as an advanced Nationalist, had modified his viewsearly. He had made his money as a butcher in Kingstown and byopening shops in Dublin and in the suburbs he had made hismoney many times over. He had also been fortunate enough tosecure some of the police contracts and in the end he had becomerich enough to be alluded to in the Dublin newspapers as amerchant prince. He had sent his son to England to be educated ina big Catholic college and had afterwards sent him to DublinUniversity to study law. Jimmy did not study very earnestly andtook to bad courses for a while. He had money and he was popular;and he divided his time curiously between musical and motoringcircles. Then he had been sent for a term to Cambridge to see alittle life. His father, remonstrative, but covertly proud of theexcess, had paid his bills and brought him home. It was atCambridge that he had met Segouin. They were not much morethan acquaintances as yet but Jimmy found great pleasure in thesociety of one who had seen so much of the world and was reputedto own some of the biggest hotels in France. Such a person (as hisfather agreed) was well worth knowing, even if he had not beenthe charming companion he was. Villona was entertaining also -- abrilliant pianist -- but, unfortunately, very poor.The car ran on merrily with its cargo of hilarious youth. The twocousins sat on the front seat; Jimmy and his Hungarian friend satbehind. Decidedly Villona was in excellent spirits; he kept up adeep bass hum of melody for miles of the road The Frenchmenflung their laughter and light words over their shoulders and oftenJimmy had to strain forward to catch the quick phrase. This wasnot altogether pleasant for him, as he had nearly always to make adeft guess at the meaning and shout back a suitable answer in theface of a high wind. Besides Villona's humming would confuseanybody; the noise of the car, too.Rapid motion through space elates one; so does notoriety; so doesthe possession of money. These were three good reasons forJimmy's excitement. He had been seen by many of his friends thatday in the company of these Continentals. At the control Segouinhad presented him to one of the French competitors and, in answerto his confused murmur of compliment, the swarthy face of thedriver had disclosed a line of shining white teeth. It was pleasantafter that honour to return to the profane world of spectators amidnudges and significant looks. Then as to money -- he really had agreat sum under his control. Segouin, perhaps, would not think it agreat sum but Jimmy who, in spite of temporary errors, was atheart the inheritor of solid instincts knew well with what difficultyit had been got together. This knowledge had previously kept hisbills within the limits of reasonable recklessness, and if he hadbeen so conscious of the labour latent in money when there hadbeen question merely of some freak of the higher intelligence, howmuch more so now when he was about to stake the greater part ofhis substance! It was a serious thing for him.Of course, the investment was a good one and Segouin hadmanaged to give the impression that it was by a favour offriendship the mite of Irish money was to be included in the capitalof the concern. Jimmy had a respect for his father's shrewdness inbusiness matters and in this case it had been his father who hadfirst suggested the investment; money to be made in the motorbusiness, pots of money. Moreover Segouin had the unmistakableair of wealth. Jimmy set out to translate into days' work that lordlycar in which he sat. How smoothly it ran. In what style they hadcome careering along the country roads! The journey laid amagical finger on the genuine pulse of life and gallantly themachinery of human nerves strove to answer the bounding coursesof the swift blue animal.They drove down Dame Street. The street was busy with unusualtraffic, loud with the horns of motorists and the gongs of impatienttram-drivers. Near the Bank Segouin drew up and Jimmy and hisfriend alighted. A little knot of people collected on the footpath topay homage to the snorting motor. The party was to dine togetherthat evening in Segouin's hotel and, meanwhile, Jimmy and hisfriend, who was staying with him, were to go home to dress. Thecar steered out slowly for Grafton Street while the two young menpushed their way through the knot of gazers. They walkednorthward with a curious feeling of disappointment in the exercise,while the city hung its pale globes of light above them in a haze ofsummer evening.In Jimmy's house this dinner had been pronounced an occasion. Acertain pride mingled with his parents' trepidation, a certaineagerness, also, to play fast and loose for the names of greatforeign cities have at least this virtue. Jimmy, too, looked verywell when he was dressed and, as he stood in the hall giving a lastequation to the bows of his dress tie, his father may have felt evencommercially satisfied at having secured for his son qualities oftenunpurchaseable. His father, therefore, was unusually friendly withVillona and his manner expressed a real respect for foreignaccomplishments; but this subtlety of his host was probably lostupon the Hungarian, who was beginning to have a sharp desire forhis dinner.The dinner was excellent, exquisite. Segouin, Jimmy decided, hada very refined taste. The party was increased by a youngEnglishman named Routh whom Jimmy had seen with Segouin atCambridge. The young men supped in a snug room lit by electriccandle lamps. They talked volubly and with little reserve. Jimmy,whose imagination was kindling, conceived the lively youth of theFrenchmen twined elegantly upon the firm framework of theEnglishman's manner. A graceful image of his, he thought, and ajust one. He admired the dexterity with which their host directedthe conversation. The five young men had various tastes and theirtongues had been loosened. Villona, with immense respect, beganto discover to the mildly surprised Englishman the beauties of theEnglish madrigal, deploring the loss of old instruments. Riviere,not wholly ingenuously, undertook to explain to Jimmy thetriumph of the French mechanicians. The resonant voice of theHungarian was about to prevail in ridicule of the spurious lutes ofthe romantic painters when Segouin shepherded his party intopolitics. Here was congenial ground for all. Jimmy, under generousinfluences, felt the buried zeal of his father wake to life withinhim: he aroused the torpid Routh at last. The room grew doublyhot and Segouin's task grew harder each moment: there was evendanger of personal spite. The alert host at an opportunity lifted hisglass to Humanity and, when the toast had been drunk, he threwopen a window significantly.That night the city wore the mask of a capital. The five young menstrolled along Stephen's Green in a faint cloud of aromatic smoke.They talked loudly and gaily and their cloaks dangled from theirshoulders. The people made way for them. At the corner ofGrafton Street a short fat man was putting two handsome ladies ona car in charge of another fat man. The car drove off and the shortfat man caught sight of the party."Andre.""It's Farley!"A torrent of talk followed. Farley was an American. No one knewvery well what the talk was about. Villona and Riviere were thenoisiest, but all the men were excited. They got up on a car,squeezing themselves together amid much laughter. They drove bythe crowd, blended now into soft colours, to a music of merrybells. They took the train at Westland Row and in a few seconds,as it seemed to Jimmy, they were walking out of KingstownStation. The ticket-collector saluted Jimmy; he was an old man:"Fine night, sir!"It was a serene summer night; the harbour lay like a darkenedmirror at their feet. They proceeded towards it with linked arms,singing Cadet Roussel in chorus, stamping their feet at every:"Ho! Ho! Hohe, vraiment!"They got into a rowboat at the slip and made out for theAmerican's yacht. There was to be supper, music, cards. Villonasaid with conviction:"It is delightful!"There was a yacht piano in the cabin. Villona played a waltz forFarley and Riviere, Farley acting as cavalier and Riviere as lady.Then an impromptu square dance, the men devising originalfigures. What merriment! Jimmy took his part with a will; this wasseeing life, at least. Then Farley got out of breath and cried "Stop!"A man brought in a light supper, and the young men sat down to itfor form's sake. They drank, however: it was Bohemian. Theydrank Ireland, England, France, Hungary, the United States ofAmerica. Jimmy made a speech, a long speech, Villona saying:"Hear! hear!" whenever there was a pause. There was a greatclapping of hands when he sat down. It must have been a goodspeech. Farley clapped him on the back and laughed loudly. Whatjovial fellows! What good company they were!Cards! cards! The table was cleared. Villona returned quietly to hispiano and played voluntaries for them. The other men played gameafter game, flinging themselves boldly into the adventure. Theydrank the health of the Queen of Hearts and of the Queen ofDiamonds. Jimmy felt obscurely the lack of an audience: the witwas flashing. Play ran very high and paper began to pass. Jimmydid not know exactly who was winning but he knew that he waslosing. But it was his own fault for he frequently mistook his cardsand the other men had to calculate his I.O.U.'s for him. They weredevils of fellows but he wished they would stop: it was getting late.Someone gave the toast of the yacht The Belle of Newport andthen someone proposed one great game for a finish.The piano had stopped; Villona must have gone up on deck. It wasa terrible game. They stopped just before the end of it to drink forluck. Jimmy understood that the game lay between Routh andSegouin. What excitement! Jimmy was excited too; he would lose,of course. How much had he written away? The men rose to theirfeet to play the last tricks. talking and gesticulating. Routh won.The cabin shook with the young men's cheering and the cards werebundled together. They began then to gather in what they had won.Farley and Jimmy were the heaviest losers.He knew that he would regret in the morning but at present he wasglad of the rest, glad of the dark stupor that would cover up hisfolly. He leaned his elbows on the table and rested his headbetween his hands, counting the beats of his temples. The cabindoor opened and he saw the Hungarian standing in a shaft of greylight:"Daybreak, gentlemen!"