After spending the morning discussing Place by Tim Creswell, I was glad to venture into Dublin to see the sights. At the National Museum of Archaeology, I enjoyed the Clontarf 1014: Brian Boru and the Battle for Dublin exhibit. The replica of Gokstad Faering, the shrine of the ‘Stowe Missal,’ which held an eighth-century prayer book, and the well-preserved clothing of the era were among the most interesting pieces in the exhibit.
In the museum bookstore, I looked through a few books about Vikings. A man asked me if I liked books and upon hearing my accent, which is always to me a non-accent, asked me why I was in Dublin. I explained to him that I’m a PhD student studying Transatlantic Modernism. He told me to avoid analyzing literature too much because analysis kills enjoyment. He proceeded to ask me what I meant by “modernism,” and I explained to him the time period covered by this nomenclature, which resulted in him scoffing and lecturing me. When I explained to him that literary modernism is merely a category to help us sort the literature, he was enraged. I told him to have a nice day and went off in search of friendlier faces. My conversation with him was a good reminder to be knowledgeable about your field and not take offense when people are critical.
The Museum of Natural History was interesting but much smaller than I expected. The moth exhibit in particular was fascinating. The names reminded me of would-be Victorian novels. I took pictures of the names and would love to use one as the title for a short story – The Early Thorn has a nice ring to it.
After the Museum of Natural History, our group ate at Foley’s, picked up torts from Carluccio’s, and visited Hodges and Figgis bookstore. An author was there with her book about gardening, and a representative from the bookstore was giving a talk about it. People were gathered with wine and copies they wanted signed. As the man talked about the book, he mentioned the importance of gardens, the social spaces they are and can be, and that people come from around the world to visit Irish gardens. It reminded me of the previous day’s garden detour. In class this morning, we talked about much of what he mentioned as he introduced the book, so it was an unexpectedly poignant way to end the day. Only it didn’t end there — we were caught in some sort of monsoon that left us all drenched and cowered together, somehow better (and wetter) for the experience.
