A Woman and a Room

Today, during our exploration of the Hugh Lane Gallery, I found several pieces of art that stood out to me and made me genuinely excited. The first of which was the Francis Bacon Art Studio exhibit. I watched part of the film playing in the gallery, and found it interesting enough, but what I loved the most was the quotes on the wall from Francis Bacon about the art studio the gallery had imported all the way from London to Dublin. As I observed the actual studio through the glass, I heard a woman scoff and comment about how messy and disgusting it was. There was another quote from Bacon about how he had tried fancy studios and was never able to create the same way that he could in the “messy” studio that we all saw today. The quote pictured reminded me of one of our discussions about place, and how each of our perspectives are so unique. We don’t see the same things, no matter whether or not we’re looking at the same things.

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I also enjoyed a painting of Lady Heath by Sir John Lavery. It was called “An Irish Pilot” and done in 1928. I didn’t know anything about Lady Heath prior to this, but I learned that she was the first person (male or female) to fly a small open-cockpit plane solo from Cape Town to London. She also helped bring women’s track and field to the Olympics. She accomplished so much in her life. The painting was part of a series from Lavery titled “Women’s Work,” and what a woman to include.

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Literary Identity

Randall has already written about the importance of Easter Rising members in contemporary Dublin, and I am going to leapfrog off of his idea.  While walking around Dublin yesterday and interacting with people, what really strjoyce statueuck me was how much literature, especially Joyce and Yeats, means to Dubliners and how intrinsic it is in Irish identity.  The Dubliners walking tour was really interesting and enjoyable, despite the rain.  And perhaps it gave me a skewed view of how much the average person likes Joyce, but I don’t think so.  I thought it was really interesting how many of the members of our tour were Irish.  I expected that it would mostly be a tourist attraction, but it wasn’t.  Later we went to O’Connell street where we saw the James Joyce statue.  This showed that in Ireland, Joyce is not a niche enjoyment for one small group on a walker tour but that his writing is important to the general public and the city.  Finally, last night while we were out, it was very refreshing to talk to locals and see how interested they were in literature.  At home, I often have the same discussion about my academic program.

Me: I’m getting my PhD

Other: Oh wow!  That’s great! What are you getting it in?

Me: English Literature! I’m really excited.

Other: [eyes glaze over] Oh. [deflated.] What to plan to do with that?

There is very little literary culture in contemporary America.  Ask an American who the literary icon of the nation is, and what answer will you receive?  Mark Twain, maybe?  Whatever i
t is, one is not likely to get a lot of enthusiasm.  Here, in contrast, when I tell someone that I am studying literature they respond, “Oh! Great! Joyce! Yeats!”  In the short time we have been here, I have already had more conversations about national liteulysses wallrature that I do in a month at home.  To me, this speaks to the importance of these writers and their influence on the life of the average Irishperson.  We have talked about how the Easter Rising was the “poets’ rebellion,” but it hadn’t really hit home.  Seeing how important the literature is to the culture here shows me that
here it was a significant source for change – something that literature should often strive to do.

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I don’t have a set “home” location.  I have the place I was raised, I have the place where I found solitude, and the place where I know I can thrive, but none of these places are anywhere near each other.  The place that I would say that I am most comfortable is a place where I will have to settle for less if I want a job, but the places where I know that I can achieve success in the financial sphere, but I am not confident that I will ever feel comfortable there.  I am young, so I know that I will make the best of my situation and that I will likely grow to refine my personal “home,” but it is odd to have to make that choice now.

I also lack what Ulysses praises in the photo: a sence of country.  Wyoming, on its own, is fairly anti-people so mass patriotism like what exists in the South isn’t something that I was really exposed to as a kid.  I also had the kind of odd conundrum of learning about early colonization in America around the same time that my grandmother was getting married to a Native American man who had marched with Native rights groups and had faced persecution by his government because of his race.  It was hard for me to feel like an American, when at an early age I had already felt betrayed by my country.

The James Joyce Experience

The James Joyce Centre was my favorite part of the Joyce tour we attended yesterday. Not only was the building full of information that mapped out his life and literary works, but the place itself was extremely interesting to me. The museum aprepared to be an old house converted into a public space and I think this type of setting helped create a more intimate feel versus using a more commercial place. The house rested amongst other identical houses in a quiet neighborhood Joyce lived near during his time in Dublin. The front doors were all different colors which I have noticed is a popular style of house in the city of Dublin, especially for older buildings. Bright green ivy climbed up the walls on the outside of the brick houses and it felt as though you had walked into a slice of Ireland in the early 1900s. Once upstairs you could really admire the intense architecture this old house possessed literally from floor to ceiling. The old floors creaked with every step, the doors were solid and heavy, slamming shut with a loud bang if you were not careful when you closed them. The ceilings were intricately designed and best of all the house was still in very good condition while still maintaining its original style. The best view of this entire house happened when you glanced out the window from the second floor. Freshly rained on flowers framed the window where you could see the green ivy pop against the red brick. Despite the dreary weather everything appeared fresh and bright from this place. #dubbelgsu

 

#dubbelgsu

Walking in Joyce’s Footsteps

Because I have an active visual imagination, I create vivid scenarios and settings in my mind when I read. Even if I have visited the location of the narrative, I continually reshape and shape my idea of the setting. On the James Joyce walking tour, I enjoyed when our guide read a snippet of the Dubliners in the place where it physically occurred (or the place where Joyce meant for the scenario to occur).  I found myself standing in these places and listening to the guide read while I reconstructed my physical surroundings- imagining the place as if the story were happening around me. Not only did I project the story onto these places, but the physical places also reshaped previous mental images. When I first read “The Dead,” I created a fictive place in my mind where the story ends. My original concept of the place changed when the guide led us to the Gresham Hotel, the actual setting for the end of “The Dead.” This reordering of my imaginary place based on the physical place of the fictive story shows the volatility and complexity in the concept of place. If I have a chance to reread “The Dead” in the future, I’m sure that my memory of the physical place will alter again.

Another aspect of the tour and the Joyce museum that I enjoyed was seeing the small table where Joyce collaborated with his researchers to complete Finnegan’s Wake. The amount of research that Joyce put into his works was incredible and to see the round table and his small room where these works were imagined was a powerful experience.

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We found him!

We found him!

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Jonathan and the Dubliners Walking Tour

To study James Joyce is largely to study place. Especially in Dubliners, his first book-length publication, Joyce draws his reader into the cultural place of Irish identity. Today, we went on a walking tour around Dublin city to see the locations that Joyce includes in his work. Jonathan led our tour. He’s a young man, maybe mid-thirties, and teaches at Trinity here in Dublin. He carries a cheap, old copy of Dubliners. Pages are marked, and slips of paper are taped to blank pages at the beginnings and ends of chapters. He’s obviously been studying Joyce for years. He tells us stories of Joyce’s childhood, connecting the narrative of Dubliners to the biography of its author through concepts of place.

We stand in a circle, attentive to the words of our guide, trying to imagine how Joyce wold have understood the place of his childhood. We looks towards the end of the street, a place presumably from one of his stories, and consider the biographical implications of that place on Joyce’s text. We end at the Gresham Hotel. Jonathan talks with us about the conclusion of “The Dead.” We contemplate the westward gaze of its characters and the Irish people during Joyce’s day, trying to understand the cultural place that Joyce’s Dubliners would offer the Irish people. Joyce was more interested in the present and future, while so many of his contemporaries (especially those of the Irish literary revival) were concerned with the past. Joyce wanted Ireland to become active players in all facets of the global experience. We walk towards the General Post Office. The rain falls harder. We looks around the busy city street. I consider the connections and disconnections of Joyce’s 1914 Dubliners and Dublin’s 1916 Easter Rising.

 

Jonathan and Joyce                                       GPO

James and Edith

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Today was all about James Joyce. We started by discussing parts of Dubliners in our class meeting this morning, then went straight to a walking tour to see important places both from his personal life and for the characters in his works. Before the tour started, we got to walk around the James Joyce Centre. After walking through the halls and seeing several photos and fun facts about Joyce and his work, I went outside to see the mural and door knocker from Number 7 Eccles Street. The mural was by far my favorite thing I saw all day. It was filled with paintings and quotes from Ulysses with all different colors and styles of art. I took a ton of pictures of individual quotes. I spent probably fifteen minutes trying to see every square inch of it because I thought it was so incredible.

After the tour, we went to Ireland’s Smallest Pub, where I met a lady named Edith from the US. She told me she was a speech therapist, and had been so overwhelmed by the year she just had that she up and bought tickets to London. She spent some time there, is here in Dublin now, then is planning on going to Barcelona. She was sitting at the bar alone and was having the time of her life talking to people and laughing. I had so much fun laughing with her. One of my favorite parts of this trip is all of the people I get to meet. I never know who I am going to sit next to or where they’ll be from.

The Longroom Library

One of my favorite sites I have seen thus far in Ireland was the Longroom Library on Trinity Campus. After making our way through the Book of Kells exhibit I found myself surrounded by dusty books and rows of numerous busts portraying some of the most famous literary icons. The library reminds me of Harry Potter, meets Disney’s Beauty and the Beast mixed in with my wildest library fantasy (yes I have an ideal library design mapped out in my brain). There was one downfall, however, to this picturesque library. Each bookcase shelf was labeled with letters that went chronologically through the alphabet and     Every shalf went from I to K completely skipping a row for J’s. I may be slightly biased to this indiscretion since my name is Jolie Jones, but I can’t imagine there was not a single book in that library that begin with a J. This did not damper by overall impression of this magnificent library, but it did make me curious as to why there would not be a J. I may never know the answer because I did not bother to ask, maybe there was a time in Irish history when J’s were considered lesser letters. The day followed with a viewing of Othello at The Abby theatre, where a man is driven mad with jealousy after a false idea is planted in his head by the conniving and manipulative Iago. While I will probably not be driven to this degree of jealousy by the lack of J’s recognized in the Longroom library it was a curious observation.

#dubbelgsu

 

The Fog Hounds of Ireland

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I apologize fot fot the upside down image above. I will go in to fix it when I have access to an Internet connection on my laptop.

 

The above image was taken while hiking in the cliffs of Howthe, a short distance from Dublin. Howthe is a beautiful place at all times, but it is particularly beautiful while covered over in fog. Though you can’t see the famed Eye of Ireland, the way that the fog moves through the wind on the cliffs make it seem alive, as if hounds of mist or ghosts are playing around you, learning at you out of the palpable nowhere from the corner points of your vision.

 

I have experienced these fog hounds of Ireland elsewhere on the Island, as well. At the cliffs of Moore, where the wind blows hard enough to make UFOs out of stones, pulling them over the precipice they rest on and then sending them back, hurtling upward to crash against the cliff face above your head, the hounds are most active. They twist, and turn, and bite at each other’s heels, and their mournful cries to each other and the hidden moon blow so harshly into your ears it feels as if the wind will grate your brain.

 

Fog in mountains or cliffs has always fascinated me. I grew up in the Appalachian Mountains in western Virginia and fog would curl down into the crevices of those blue mountains like a slumbering cat in a bowl. The fog in Ireland is different. It’s alive, like the magic that’s seeped out of the fog in the ancient Appalachias is still vital in the glacial formations of Eire. It’s beautiful and adds a fluidity to the static rocks of Ireland, allowing place to change while staying the same and allowing the land to live like an animal rather than lie like base mineral.

 

 

On the Streets of Dublin

Poets and novelists. These two words have a myriad of meaning & associations, especially to Irish culture and history. Literary figures are intertwined with the Irish Rebellion, Literary Revival, & an independent Ireland. Exploring the streets of Dublin, we came across an alleyway with murals & quotes from famous Irish writers. It is interesting how often I stumbled on representations of these figures (along with political figures) that fought for & stood for a free Ireland: Connolly’s face painted in a bar window, placards to highlight key places in the Rising, the declaration on display at Trinity’s Long Room & copies posted on walls of pubs.

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At one of the pubs we visited, I spoke to a local Dubliner, Paul, about Irish literature. Paul has lived in Dublin all his life & works in telecommunications. He was quite friendly, a little rough around the edges, but he could quote lines/titles from Yeats, Joyce, Heaney, & Wilde. The words of Irish poets & novelists fill the steets, but also linger in the minds of the people who walk them. Although my impression stems from one trip to Dublin & one conversation, I think it is apparent that there is an appreciation & pride in Irish historical & literary figures. Paul also enlightened us in some of the secondary education in Ireland; teachers of secondary education are required to learn & teach Irish. In his secondary school days, he learned Irish but has since then forgotten the language. While we read about the Irish literature, culture & history, I found my short tour of Dublin last night & my discussion with locals a powerful reminder of how the Irish literary & political figures still hold a significant place in Ireland’s modern culture.