From Department of Tourism, Culture, Arts, Gaeltacht, Sport and Media
By: Minister for Tourism, Culture, Arts, Gaeltacht, Sport and Media; Catherine Martin
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A chomhaltaí boird, a ambasadóirí, a chomhairleoirí agus baill de mhuintir Joyce, is mór an pléisiúr dom a bheith anseo in bhur dteannta inniu.
I won’t distract from any inner cravings at this hour of the morning as you eat with relish any nutty gizzards, liver slices or kidneys so I will ponder only for a few minutes on what is undoubtedly that special feast in Irish literature, Ulysses.
It could be a long day for some of you with your different editions under arm, so enjoy the wonderful offering here from the great James Joyce Centre.
Ulysses is a very distinct book for each reader. Some, I’m sure who are here today, know the celebrated tome inside out, from the amusing reflections of young Stephen Dedalus and Buck Mulligan as they start out their day in seaside Sandycove, Dublin, to the hero Leopold Bloom bringing his wife Molly her breakfast and then setting out into the city’s environs, or the meanderings at the National Library or even the clash of the Citizen-the one minded or indeed one-eyed xenophobe-with Bloom in the often staged and much loved episode that is ‘Cyclops’.
With 100 years this year since the publication of the masterpiece Ulysses, we mark James Joyce, all the heroes and rich characters he gave us, which have fed imaginations for generations and which continue to inspire, amuse and reflect a lot that is Irish.
This Bloomsday is also special for other reasons, today marks 40 years since Number 35 was saved from demolition by Senator David Norris. This month also marks 26 years since the building, whose former occupant was even immortalised in the Wandering Rocks episode of the book, was renovated and reopened. And after being overseen by descendants of the Joyce family, the centre is now run as a limited company, with charity status, and the support from my department.
The centre oversees the Bloomsday Festival, which this year involves over 100 events, spread over a whole week of entertainment, with a focus on celebrating the city, its theatres, art, parks, beaches, music, waterways, streets, squares, pubs and people.
And even here we are lucky to have the original door in the courtyard from No. 7 Eccles Street, Leopold Bloom’s address in Ulysses.
Maybe now is an opportunity to remind ourselves where Leopold Bloom would be at this hour of the day:
"Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods’ roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.
Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere. Made him feel a bit peckish.
The coals were reddening.
Another slice of bread and butter: three, four: right. She didn’t like her plate full. Right. He turned from the tray, lifted the kettle off the hob and set it sideways on the fire. It sat there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out. Cup of tea soon. Good. Mouth dry. The cat walked stiffly round a leg of the table with tail on high.
—Mkgnao!
—O, there you are, Mr Bloom said, turning from the fire.
The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writingtable. Prr. Scratch my head. Prr.
Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Clean to see: the gloss of her sleek hide, the white button under the butt of her tail, the green flashing eyes. He bent down to her, his hands on his knees.
—Milk for the pussens, he said.
—Mrkgnao! the cat cried.
They call them stupid. They understand what we say better than we understand them. She understands all she wants to. Vindictive too. Cruel. Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it. Wonder what I look like to her. Height of a tower? No, she can jump me."
That delightful passage from the Calypso episode brings to the fore what Ulysses is for the reader, a journey through the minds of its characters, both internal conversations and external, and even with pets. The language, monologues and dialogues, the prose, all of it is a linguistic Kaleidoscope, turning language on its head at times and always full of colour, twists and turns.
And I think it is important to pay tribute to the James Joyce Centre which has been the organiser of the Bloomsday Festival since 1994. The Centre is open year-round as a museum, a cultural centre and provides exhibitions, lectures and literary tours of Dublin.
Indeed, ambassadors, can I also say it is worth noting that our rich literary history also allows us to promote a unique tourism offering and Dublin was named the seventh best city in the world to visit in 2022 by Lonely Planet – specifically calling out the centenary as a key reason to plan a visit to Dublin in 2022. Ulysses offers, both novice and seasoned readers of the book, many tourism experiences with visitors keen to walk the streets of Joyce’s rich characters and visit those places made iconic by Ulysses. So, spread the word too.
I hope you all enjoy your day, no matter which part of our beautiful city your feet bring you across for Bloomsday. And isn’t it just great, after the restrictions that impacted the Arts.
I am also looking forward to the performances shortly from actors Les Doherty, Elaine Reddy and Ian Toner, singers Suzanne Savage and Simon Morgan and pianist David Bremner.
Ulysses can still teach us so much each time we open the covers - one of my favourite quotes, from Stephen Dedalus in the episode in the National Library, says so much about life, perhaps our own lives, in one sentence:
"Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves".
Go raibh maith agaibh.