Grace

John Banville rates "Grace" the strongest story in James Joyce's Dubliners if you set aside "The Dead," which is nearly a novella. Tom Kernan, a traveling salesman with a silk hat and a high opinion of his calling, falls down the pub steps footless drunk and bites off part of his tongue, which still gives Banville the shivers. Three friends, like three wise men, prescribe a religious retreat led by Father Purdon, and Banville explains the joke: Purdon Street ran through Dublin's red-light district.

The turn is the title. Grace is what heaven sends to cleanse a soul, and grace is also suavity and style, which these lumpen clerks believe they have. Banville is sure grace won't suffuse Kernan, who'll be back in the pub the next time he has money; in Joyce's world there is no redemption. What he hears instead is Joyce mocking the Dublin self-flattery he knew in himself, and a deep affection for a city he left for good.