An Irishman's Diary

JAMES JOYCE was famously preoccupied with the possibility that Dublin might have to be rebuilt some day and that, in Ulysses, he was providing a blueprint for the construction work. But of course, Joyce's birthplace is not the world's only Dublin.

On the contrary, the metropolis on the Liffey has already been recreated – if only in name – in at least a dozen other places.

In fact, there are more Dublins on the planet than there are Londons: an imperialist achievement of sorts for the one-time second city of the empire. Some are rather small, admittedly: like Dublin, South Australia (population 241) and Dublin, Ontario. Others – particularly Dublin, California and Dublin, Ohio – are big enough to have that annoying American habit of upstaging their mother city in Google searches.

Then there’s Dublin, Texas, which unlike Paris, Texas, has not so far been the subject of an offbeat movie by Wim Wenders. This may yet change. Famous until now only for having the original Dr Pepper’s soft drink bottling plant, Dublin, Texas has recently been the scene of a large number of UFO sightings, which threaten to put it firmly on the tourist map (or perhaps take it off the map – who knows what those aliens are planning?) Dublin, New Hampshire (1,476) is at the lower end of the population range, Dublin-wise. Even so, it has one of the longer histories, having been established under its current name in 1771. In a happy coincidence for the day that’s in it, it also boasts a town hall built in 1882, the year Joyce was born. And the New Hampshire hamlet has the added distinction among the world’s competing Dublins that it will today host its own Bloomsday celebration.

Small as it is, this Dublin is no stranger to literary and artistic activity. Since the late 1800s it has been something of a painters’ colony, thanks to the beauty of the surrounding countryside. Eulogised by writers including Thoreau and Emerson, it has also hosted Mark Twain for summer holidays. Later visitors included Padraic and Mary Colum, close friends of Joyce, who were writers in residence there.

Despite which, the New Hampshire Bloomsday is the initiative of a much more recent arrival from Dublin, Ireland: Imelda Murphy. A poet and playwright exiled in nearby Nashua, Murphy noted that, the aptly-dated town hall apart, Dublin, New Hampshire had most of the attributes required for re-enacting Ulysses: a river, a post office, a cemetery, etc. She also found a local Joycean, Ed Germain; and through him, an Irishman called Pearse O’Byrne, who would make an ideal narrator.

All she needed now was some soap. It’s an amusing irony that a book once widely regarded as “dirty” (even HG Wells complained mildly of Joyce’s “cloacal obsession”) cannot be properly re-enacted these days without lemon soap: which has become the Joycean version of Lourdes water.

Happily, the original source – Sweny’s Chemist, where Leopold Bloom bought the famous toiletry – is still with us, if no longer as an actual pharmacy. Kept alive for decades by the brave Quinn sisters, Carmel and Martina, it was taken over last year by Joyce fanatic Brendan Kilty and now, with the help of volunteers, serves as Dublin Ireland’s tiniest museum, as well as selling an eccentric range of merchandise including second-hand books and boiled sweets.

So Imelda sent Sweny’s an order for 36 bars of soap (for which she asks me to tell them that the cheque is in the post), which duly arrived: each cake enclosed in brown wrapping paper of the kind that might once have been used for the book itself.

Purchases of these will form a centre-piece of activities in Dublin, New Hampshire later today. Participants will dress in 1904 clothes as they stroll around town. Dublin Cemetery will stand in for Glasnevin. And the Contoocook River will do its best impression of the Liffey; although based on the pictures, it may be a bit too pretty for the role.

There are, however, limits to which the locals are prepared to go for literature. I note that the re-enactment of Paddy Dignam’s funeral will be moved from the cemetery to the town library “in case of rain”. This despite the fact that it was showery with sunny spells for the original event. Or as Simon Dedalus commented to his fellow mourners, while studying the sky: “It’s as uncertain as a child’s bottom”.

Also, no doubt because Dublin, New Hampshire lacks the kind of hostelries found in Dublin, Ireland, the part of Davy Byrne’s Pub will be played by “Del Rossi’s Trattoria”. Indeed, the same venue will be the scene of the day’s concluding event: dinner, accompanied by live music, and readings from Molly Bloom’s soliloquy.

This, I note, is scheduled for 5.30pm, which seems a bit early. But then again, this is hard-working America, where they get up early too. And besides, another thing Dublin, New Hampshire does not have is a "Night-Town" like the one described in Ulysses. Which said, of course, thanks to Frank Duff and the Legion of Mary, Dublin, Ireland no longer has one either.