Celebrating bloomsday has now become almost as inevitable as celebrating Christmas, and while this is a good thing, it is easy to understand how committed Christians feel about Christ disappearing out of Christmas. Doing a Bloomsday tour on June 16th can be depressing nowadays. You will meet too many people wearing funny hats or funny name-tags. Of course you can do an alternative Bloomsday tour, going to Mount Jerome cemetery instead of Glasnevin, visiting the Martello Tower in Sandymount rather than Sandycove, and so on. It may sound silly, but no matter what you do, you will never be too far from the book.
Another way for Dubliners to commemorate Joyce's genius is by doing a Dubliners visit. If you are around the town, you won't have to go very far to visit one of the sites, and Dubliners (published by Penguin Classics) only costs £1. Re-read, or (I envy you) read for the first time, one of the 15 short stories and away you go. Everyone will have their favourite places but here are a few suggestions.
Sydney Parade:
If you travel on the DART on the southside, read of the Sad Occurrence At Sydney Parade, concerning the death of Mrs Sinico and its effect on Mr James Duffy.
Joyce's characters seem to narrate their own stories. It makes his works a joy to perform on stage. In the description of aloof, righteous Mr Duffy we find: "He had an odd autobiographical habit which led him to compose in his mind from time to time a short sentence about himself . . ."
This mixture of involvement and detachment runs through all Joyce's writings. Not only do we live inside these characters but they live inside us. More of Mr Duffy later.
Matt Talbot Memorial Bridge:
Of course the bridge was not there in Joyce's time. The stories are set around the turn of the century, when Matt Talbot was still a drunken sot. He was unlikely to ever have a pub, never mind a bridge, named after him.
However for your Dubliners visit, stand on the downstream side of the bridge, or by reading pieces from An En- counter and Eveline, you will get a feeling of the old port of Dublin.
On the left, there are the remains of the quayside sheds where Eveline makes her awful decision not to escape but to return to "duty". Beyond the East Link Bridge, on the right, was the waste ground where the mitching schoolboys had their encounter with the strange man. As a child I used to go down that way. It was a weird, lonely landscape. Now I wonder, did I ever meet such a man down there or is Joyce making me imagine it?
Gardiner Street Church:
Sit in the church, read and listen to the echoes of Father Purdon's sermon in Grace. He tells the listening businessmen to open their spiritual account books and set right their accounts. It is stirring stuff.
If anyone believes that Catholic orthodoxy in Ireland was introduced by de Valera and John Charles McQuaid, then Dubliners will set them straight. Joyce shows it firmly established at the end of the last century.
As you are there in the church, I am sure that the Jesuits won't mind you reading the bedside discussion of Church Authority in the same story - but don't laugh too loudly. If you feel that you have overdone it, there is a Church Rebuilding Fund collection box on the way out. It's your conscience.
Merrion Street:
Stand under the lamppost at the corner of Merrion Row/Merrion Street, as Lenehan does in Two Gallants and await the return of Corley and the unfortunate young woman. As he waits, Lenehan wonders if Corley will manage to get the money from her. They are nasty, appalling men but as you wait, remember Joyce has already brought you inside Lehehan's head. You know that he has "felt keenly his own poverty of purse and spirit". He is 31 and going nowhere. There are no winners in Dubliners.
Wicklow Street:
The street still retains some of its old shape, particularly if you look at the upper storeys. In a dingy room somewhere along here, it was Ivy Day In The Commit- tee Room. It is a story of lost dreams, lost leaders, lost directions - but great fun.
Usher's Island:
It's the next quay downstream from Guinness and the bits of the old buildings that are still there could disappear overnight.
Of course, most of the stories in Dub- liners are set in darkest winter, and in The Dead it should be snowing, but let the writing do it for you. Face the river (at least it has remained much the same) and read some of Joyce's wonderful prose.
In between the roars of the blocks of traffic you may begin to hear the strains of The Lass Of Aughrim coming from the old house behind you. You may hear, the worse-for-drink, Teddy whistling in the dark for cabs and may even hear the footsteps in the slushy snow of Gretta and Gabriel as they walk towards Winetavern Street.
Magazine Hill:
The Phoenix Park is not a comfortable place to be on a dark winter's night but you can join Mr James Duffy there any time. Below the Magazine Fort there are some white benches facing the river.
Stand there and look down over the city, as Mr Duffy does. Stand with him, as he tries to erase Mrs Sinico from his memory.
The terrible thing is that he succeeds and in the last line of the story tells us: "He felt that he was alone." With lines like that, no summer will keep the chill out of your bones.
Mulligan's of Poolbeg Street:
After all, or some of this, you could adjourn to this fine old pub. In Counter- parts, Farrington meets final defeat here, goes home and viciously attacks his son. But do not allow your visit to Dubliners end in such a negative mode.
As you sit in the warm interior of that pub, could I suggest that you read the finest paragraph of all, the final paragraph of The Dead. It is a paragraph of reconciliation, of acceptance, even of hope, where "the snow that is general all over Ireland" unites both the living and the dead.
The mundane lives that are lived in Dubliners are raised up, into a great chorus of understanding and love of all humanity. Dubliners is a great book, it belongs to all the world. But remember Dubliners, it also belongs to you.
On June 16th I will not be on a Bloomsday nor a Dubliners tour. I will be slaving over a hot piano, with Peter O'Brien. That evening we will be presenting Chords in the Bank of Ireland Arts Centre, Foster Place. Words and music weave together in Ulysses. I am looking forward to it.