It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight…Yes, the newspapers were right, snow was general all over Ireland. “A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. Here’s the last graph of the story, with its terrific, spine-tingling ending: It’s when Gabriel has been told by his wife of years, Gretta, about an early love of hers named Michael Furey, who has died from her apparent lack of love for him.įrom this insight into Gretta’s life, Gabriel realizes that he hasn’t meant all that much in her life as he has imagined. My favorite paragraph from the long short story, sometimes called a novella, is at its very end. To put it bluntly, just as snow in winter is inevitable, so death will come to us all. The snow is significant we are reminded further, because it symbolizes the universal attributes of death and the hold that the past can have upon the living.
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