June the sixteenth,
16th June, Bloomsday. A day to celebrate the meeting on that date in
1904, of James Joyce and Nora Barnacle, a young Galway lass working
as a chambermaid in Finn's Hotel in Dublin.
They walked on the beach
at Sandymount. Within a few months they had run off together to
Europe and she remained his partner and his muse for the rest of his
life. His gift to her was to immortalise that day as the single day
in which the entire action of his masterpiece Ulysses takes
place from one side of Edwardian Dublin to the other.
This year there was no need to go to Dublin to re-enact the scene of Bloom feeding the seagulls at the O'Connel Bridge. There are herring gulls nesting on the highest chimneys of the house beyond the reach of all attempts at dislodgement.
Bloomsday visits
have been to what is still very recognisably the city Joyce knew,
have been greatly enjoyed in the past but this year I'll have to be
satisfied with listening to a download of the BBC dramatisation of
the novel and the glass of burgundy with gorgonzola cheese of Bloom's
lunch at Davy Byrne's pub. ( It was Stilton that was available but it's all blue cheese)
Davy Byrne's pub |
A breakfast of fried pork kidneys would
have been a bit to much!
Joyce's stream of
consciousness writing, recurrent themes, symbolism and parallels with
Homer's original make for re-reading of the novel again and again.
Every time, another jewel surfaces from the prose like gold in river
gravel.
We followed the
trail of Homer's Ulysses through the Mediterranean last summer (Blog 27 /10/17
) Maybe next June we'll go back to Dublin and trace the paths of
Joyce's heroes again.
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