ReJoycing Bloomsday

James Joyce’s love-hate affair with Dublin was uneasy at best. His dislike for his hometown was no secret, yet Ireland’s capital often became the bones of his works. Characters played out past friendships, and it was by no accident that Ulysses’ Leopold Bloom schlepped his way through Dublin on June 16th, 1904. As it was on this very day that Joyce and his wife-to-be, Nora Barnacle, took their first walk to the village of Ringsend. But was it fate or simply coincidence that he wrote, “Today 16 of June 1924 twenty years after. Will anybody remember this date?” Little did he realize that Bloomsday would be born.

Every year, cities from Los Angeles to Tokyo play host to Joyce’s work, but nowhere are the festivities more lively than in Dublin itself. Fans in Edwardian dress spread about the city in search of nutty gizzards to copycat Bloom’s breakfast and hunt out the address where he finally rolled into bed. But it wasn’t until 1954 that June 16th came to be known as Bloomsday. On the thirtieth anniversary of Ulysses’ setting, a small group of Dublin writers set out in horse-drawn cabs to retrace Leopold Blooms steps. It was an easy challenge to undertake as Joyce made no effort to rename the city’s pubs, streets, or bridges. Joyce wanted to “give picture of Dublin so complete that if the city one day suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be reconstructed out of my book.” It was because of this attention to detail that fans from across the world come to relive the epic story and take away with them a taste of Joyce’s Dublin.
But, in hindsight, considering the religious state of 1950’s Ireland, it is ironic that literary circles embraced the controversial novel. Ulysses was first published as a series in the American journal, The Little Review, but its publication was brought to a halt when a court banned it as obscene. No printer in America or England was willing to produce the novel and for a time it looked as if Ulysses would never see the light of day. But one year later, Joyce’s friend and American expatriate, Sylvia Beach, offered to publish his work and sell it at her bookshop, Shakespeare & Co. in Paris. On February 2nd 1922, as Joyce celebrated his fortieth birthday, the first edition of Ulysses was ready for distribution.

Outside of France, the novel remained an underground masterpiece until the US and UK lifted the bans in 1934. Curious minds found ways to bag the book while some bookstore owners, like New Yorker, Frances Steloff backed the Irish underdog. Her store, Gotham Book Mart, challenged the censors over the years and she supplied Ulysses to U.S. readers. Joyce, himself, occasionally ordered books directly from Steloff.

In Ireland, Ulysses was never officially banned but the content was met with embarrassment. For many, Joyce’s merciless depiction of Dublin life and the novel’s sexual innuendo was hard to stomach. It was as a result of this mind-set that Joyce turned his back on his homeland in 1912. At the time, his publisher, George Roberts, destroyed the entire first edition of Dubliners because of its realistic portrayals, and with it triggered the writer’s voluntary exile.

Although Joyce may have rejected Dublin, the Irish continue to celebrate him, simply because he was one of their own. They credited his brilliance by featuring him on their former ten-pound note and turned his old residence, Martello Tower into a national landmark. And since its centennial celebrations in 2004, the city has turned the festivities into a weeklong event. If you happen to be on other side of the Atlantic from June 9th it would be worth your while to join in on the Bloomsday festivities. The James Joyce Centre in North Great George’s Street runs a program of tours, readings and shows, and traditionally kicks off the festival with the re-enactment of Ulysses’ Paddy Dignam’s ‘wake’. And without a doubt, the Centre’s Bloomsday Breakfast is a highlight for fans as the Centre serves up Leopold Bloom’s breakfast of freshly roasted gizzards. But, whether it’s retracing the entire 18 miles of Bloom’s adventures or simply enjoying lunch at Joyce’s old watering hole, Davy Byrne’s pub, it is best to map out what Ulysses settings you can to choose from.

By Pat-Ann Durcan

Irish Children’s Literature

June 11, 2009 by Thomas Miner  
Filed under Books, Hornpipe Issue, Irish Culture

Picture Books

Small Beauties

The Journey of Darcy Heart O’Hara. Written by Elvira Woodruff. Illustrated by Adam Rex. When she was born, her father danced. Darcy is the seventh child in the O’Hara family, the first girl, and a “noticer.” Young Darcy is frequently distracted from her chores by all the beauty she sees around her: dew-covered spiderwebs, cloud castles, and “a magpie flying low over the buttercups.” However, with her gift of sight comes a certain blindness, and it isn’t until the second year of blight that she begins to “notice” what her family does: worried faces, hungry stomachs, and the smell of rotten potatoes.
Beautifully illustrated with golden-hued depictions of the Irish landscape, this picture book is a delight to both the eyes and the ears. The backdrop of the story is bleak, touching on the realities of famine and forced emigration, but the language lilts like a fairytale. Even sorrow-fraught phrases—“Now the O’Hara’s, like many of their neighbors, knew more about courage than coin”—roll off the tongue sweetly. Written with children ages four to eight in mind, this book succeeds at interweaving an uplifting, melodious tale with an authentic depiction of Ireland in the 1840s. (Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2006.)

Brave Margaret: An Irish Adventure

Written by Robert D. San Souci. Illustrated by Sally Wern Comport. The story of Simon and Margaret was originally translated from the Gaelic in William Larminie’s 1893 anthology West-Irish Folk-Tales and Romances. In this engaging picture book, celebrated children’s author and folklorist Robert D. San Souci adapts the same story for young readers.
A strong female heroine in the tradition of Joan of Arc or, perhaps more to the point, Grace O’Malley, Brave Margaret decides to leave her simple life in Donegal for a chance to see the world aboard the ship of Simon, the son of the King of the East. Half romance, half adventure tale, Simon and Margaret triumph over monstrous creatures, sorcery, and even death itself as they catapult toward a fairytale ending. Bold, lively pastels adorn nearly every page of this fleet-footed tale. Recommended for children ages five through ten, Brave Margaret is long enough to challenge a beginning reader and short enough to serve as a bedtime story. (Aladdin, 2002.)

Anthologies

Tales from Old Ireland

Retold by Malachy Doyle. Illustrated by Niamh Sharkey. Doyle introduces his collection of seven traditional stories with an Irish proverb: “A tune is more precious than birdsong, and a tale more precious than the wealth of the world.” These tales are, indeed, worth their weight in gold, but don’t let the word “precious” fool you. There is nothing dainty about them! Rife with violence, retribution, and magic, this collection is not for the very young; but older children will enjoy the authenticity of the tales, told with the same forthrightness as ones straight from the mouths of the Brothers Grimm. The award-winning Niamh Sharkey makes each tale come alive with striking, and pleasingly minimalist, oil illustrations.
Hearkening back to the pre-Christian days of oral mythology, this volume delves into the quintessentially Irish tales that have been handed down across generations—tales of the Tuatha Dé Danaan, the Fianna, and Tír na nÓg. Some of the stories, however, will be surprisingly familiar, even for those whose Celtic mythology has gotten a little rusty. “Fair, Brown, and Trembling,” for example, is an Irish version of the Cinderella story. And “Son of an Otter, Son of a Wolf” is reminiscent of, at times, both the Romulus and Remus myth and “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.”
Written to be read aloud, these seven folktales are rendered in accessible language and come complete with a handy pronunciation key. The last tale’s surprise ending segues easily into the source notes, which make a point to mention the role that Irish monks played in preserving the country’s rich oral tradition. (Barefoot Books, 2006.)

A Pot O’ Gold—A Treasury of Irish Stories, Poetry, Folklore, and (of Course) Blarney

Selected and adapted by Kathleen Krull. Illustrated by David McPhail. The last chapter of this children’s anthology begins with a quote from Virginia Woolf: “It is a lovely country, but very melancholy, except that the people never stop talking.” And it’s a good thing, too! If not for Ireland’s love affair with words, Krull might not ever have been able to compile this delightful volume, packed with everything from poems to battle cries.
Although an excellent introduction to both major and minor poets, this collection is a far cry from a dry, scholarly tome. Recipes and limericks intermingle effortlessly with more serious pieces of the Irish canon, and, since each section is organized by theme rather than time period, pre-Celtic fairytales rest alongside poems from Yeats and Joyce. The history behind each tale (and even each poet) is described, making this collection an excellent way to sneak in tiny doses of history along with spoonfuls of blarney. Although the official recommended reading level is ages nine through twelve, the collection’s short selections, accessible illustrations, and gentle tone make it a fine bedtime collection for younger listeners. (Hyperion, 2004.)

Chapter Books

The Gift of the Pirate Queen

By Patricia Reilly Giff. The prolific Patricia Reilly Giff—winner of two Newberry Awards and author of over 60 books for children—has said that her mission is to write stories that “say ordinary people are special.” And perhaps that’s the true message of The Gift of the Pirate Queen. Grace O’Malley is an Irish-American sixth-grader, who has been trying her best to fill the gap her mother’s death left in the family, cooking hamburgers for supper (everyday), tidying the house (sort of), and trying to coax her high-spirit sister into following her diabetic diet (without much success). Grace is more than a little insulted when her father sends off for his cousin Fiona—all the way from Ireland—to usurp her role.

However, it is through Fiona’s stories of Grace’s namesake, the fearless pirate queen, that Grace finds the courage to set things right with her teacher, her sister, and the class outcast—all in time for Christmas!
Giff has the ability to view the world from a child’s eyes, and, although the story was written over two decades ago, its lessons about ordinary, everyday courage ring timelessly true. Recommended for readers ages nine through twelve. (Yearling, 1983.)

The Last Wolf of Ireland

By Elona Malterre. Today there are no wolves in Ireland; but in the 18th century, stories of the beasts’ ferocity and cruelness made them feared across the Irish countryside. Malterre’s story, which gives a nod to both legend and history, envisions Northern Ireland in the 1780s when education took place in hedge schools, English lords kept watch over the villages, and the last wolf in Ireland perished.
This is the story of Devin O’Hara, the boy who befriended a wolf, and of the lessons he learned along the way about bravery, friendship, and compassion. The bittersweet ending might be a little much for younger readers, but children ages nine through fourteen will enjoy the well-drawn characters and nimble plot. The story’s brevity and quick pacing make this book a good choice for reluctant readers. (Clarion Books, 1990.)

Darby O’Gill and the Good People

By Herminie Templeton Kavanagh. Originally released in 1903, this charming tale is as timeless as it is engaging. Darby O’Gill is the finest reel-dancer in Ireland and a right “knowledgeable lad,” at least when it comes to the fairies of Sleive-na-mon. Although Darby is quick to offer advice—“Nayther make nor moil nor meddle with the fairies,” he says knowingly—he is, fortunately for the readers, slow to heed it. This short volume is packed with six interwoven tales of Darby’s adventures with his long-suffering wife Bridget and his dear, if not altogether trustworthy, friend Brian Connors, King of the Fairies.
This book is written in fool-proof dialect, all the better to be read aloud on a cold night, next to a warm fire, with the whole family. Recommended for readers ages nine through twelve. (Sophia Institute Press, 2002.)

Out of Print Classics

The following books, although out-of-print, are true treasures and, fortunately, readily and affordably available on both eBay and Amazon.

Molly the Rogue

Written by Mary Walsh. Illustrated by Henry C. Pitz. Mary Walsh’s classic story is a fairy tale in the true Irish tradition. It begins a long time ago in County Kerry “where the butter is sweet and the mountains are dark and wild,” and where Johneen lives in a humble home with his father, his siblings, and his cat Malteezer. When Molly the beggar woman arrives in a basket, she begins to introduce Johneen to a world that lies just beyond the reaches of common sight. “There’s plenty to see if you have eyes for it. Thiggum thu?”
This enchanting picture book has a heart of gold, and its graceful images and sweet lapses into the Irish language conjure up the atmosphere of an Irish wonderland. It’s a place where fairies dance and cats speak and an old beggar woman might just turn out to be a family’s salvation. Recommended for ages four through eight. (Alfred A. Knopf, 1944.)

Shawneen and the Gander

Written and illustrated by Richard Bennett. Shawneen’s family isn’t rich by any means; his mother is in need of a new shawl and a new teapot, and Shawneen’s shoes are so worn that he forgoes the road for the fields to save his soles. But, when Shawneen spies the most beautiful bugle he’s ever seen on a shelf at Mrs. Murphy’s store, he knows that he just has to have it. With a little help from a leprechaun, he hatches a plan (and an egg) and ends up with a gander which he is certain will get him a princely sum at the fair. However, the gander ends up being a pigs’-tail-pulling, goat-chasing, havoc-wreaking “holy terror”—and Shawneen has his hands full just saving him from the pot!
This children’s story lilts its way over hill and dale, and across the path of the wickedest rogue in Ireland, in its way to a heartily satisfying conclusion. The hardcover version of this 60-page book is adorned with simple, green-tinged illustrations; the story is also available as a free download from Project Gutenberg. Recommended for ages four through eight. (Doubleday, 1961. Or at www.gutenberg.org.)