As Corley and Lenehan are walking aimlessly through the streets of Dublin, they spot a harpist and stop to listen to his music. When describing the man’s harp, the narrator uses both personification and imagery:
His harp too, heedless that her coverings had fallen about her knees, seemed weary alike of the eyes of strangers and of her master’s hands. One hand played in the bass the melody of Silent, O Moyle, while the other hand careered in the treble after each group of notes. The notes of the air throbbed deep and full.
The narrator personifies the harp here, describing how the harp was “heedless that her coverings had fallen about her knees” and “seemed weary alike of the eyes of strangers and of her master’s hands.” Here the harp becomes a woman whose clothes have been unceremoniously removed by the harpist and who is "weary" of being objectified and used in this way. This personification is notable as it communicates the negative effects of Corley and Lenehan’s sexual objectification of women—like the harp, they are also likely tired of being treated as less-than.
The imagery here—“The notes of the air throbbed deep and full”—also has sexual undertones, adding to Joyce’s point about the sexual objectification of women in this seemingly simple moment between a man and his harp.
