Episode 3 of Ulysses takes place almost entirely in Stephen Daedalus’ head. In the first two episodes, the bulk of the “action” is in the dialogue between characters. In this episode, we join Stephen as he walks along Sandymount strand and has more than a moment with his thoughts. The episode name is Proteus, the shape-shifting Greek god of the sea. In my opinion, Proteus presents the first major challenge of following the book. Joyce gives us the insights into what Stephen is thinking and, closer to reality than any other book that I’ve read, the thoughts flow from moment to moment with loose association from one to the next.
Early in the episode, he considers going to his aunt Sarah’s house. Then he plays out either a memory or a projection of what the visit will entail along with dialogue from his disapproving father. From here, things start to jump around a good bit.
This episode is particularly interesting to me as someone who is interested in Zen Buddhism. When practicing Zen meditation, called Zazen, the idea is to sit erect and stare blankly at the wall for a period of time. What usually happens is before finding any form of quiet is that thoughts just bounce around. What do I need to do after this? Yes – change the light bulb outside the garage door. Oh but I needed lightbulbs from the store. Darn! How did I forget that? Make sure to add it to the shopping list as soon as this is done. Then in my mind’s eye, I walk into the pantry where bulbs are stored and I look down at the couch, where my daughter routinely leaves partially consumed water bottles. Why can’t she take them with her? Maybe I should just stop buying water bottles. But no, we need them for the sports activities. And so on… The first step to practicing Zazen is to just sit with it. Over time, we become more aware of our thoughts as they’re happening and we can start to limit the damage that our runaway thoughts inflict on us. Eventually, we even begin to find glimpses of quiet.
I started reading Ulysses before I started approaching Zen with any real discipline. Now having practiced for a couple of years, I’ve come to appreciate Proteus more than ever. It is still difficult to follow. But it should be. We’re in the head following the thoughts of a well-educated human being who is thinking of events current to him at the turn of the 20th century.
In addition to the constant flow from thought to thought, Daedalus shifts from English to French and back again with a smattering of other languages. I will readily admit that I don’t follow all of the references yet; and this is my fourth read. Other lengthy tomes have been written on the content, so I’m touching on some key themes that stick out to me.
Mother: Stephen continues to be haunted by the death of his mother. He sees two midwives and thinks of umbilical cords and Eve’s navel-free stomach, which makes him think about his own conception by “the man with my voice and my eyes and a ghost woman with ashes on her breath.” He thinks of the telegram from his father that called him home from medical study in Paris to his mother’s deathbed and Mulligan’s earlier comment, “The aunt thinks you killed your mother.”
Irish / Ireland: Stephen thinks of Patrice Egan whom he knew in Paris. He thinks of Kevin Egan, Patrice’s father and exiled Irish nationalist, and the conversations about nationalism they had in a French cafe.
Money: “Wild sea money. Dominie Deasy kens them a’.” “By the way go easy with that money like a good young imbecile.” Stephen thinks about the money that he’s recently gotten, his historically bad handling of money, and the savings advice from Mr. Deasy.
Hamlet: There were major references to Hamlet in Telemachus, the first episode, and a few in Nestor, the last episode. In Proteus, there is a small call out of Elsinore, which is the castle where the play is set; and Hamlet is again referenced with, “nipping and eager airs.”
Father: There is much talk about father and son with reference to Hamlet earlier in the book, but in this episode Stephen’s relationship to his father begins to materialize for the reader. When Stephen considers going to his aunt Sarah’s house at the beginning of the episode, it gives way to a vision that involves his condescending father providing disproving overtones. He thinks about his and other “houses of decay,” which we’ll learn later is a marker for his father’s inability to maintain a consistent family home.
As mentioned earlier, Proteus is the shape-shifting god of the sea. The episode Proteus takes on the shape-shifting characteristics as the topics and language shift like the tendrils of an anemone in the surf. I marvel at Joyce’s writing. To be able to interlace shifting thought and theme in a way that is relatable nearly 100 years after publication is simply awe-inspiring.
In the second episode of Ulysses, we follow the prodigal son Stephen Daedalus to his workplace where he is a teacher. We pick up as Stephen is teaching a History lesson to a class of boys. Class lets out early for field hockey. One of the students, Sargent, hangs back to go over his arithmetic lesson with Stephen. After Mr. Deasy, Stephen’s boss, gets the boys organized on the field, he comes back in to pay Stephen his wages. During the exchange, the older Mr. Deasy doles out several “words of wisdom” to Stephen. Additionally, Mr. Deasy asks Stephen to have a letter he has written about foot and mouth disease printed with his newspaper friends. The two spend some time on the topic and then part ways.
Like nearly every other part of Ulysses, the action in the Nestor episode is in the words. Several themes arise for me:
Mother: While Stephen teaches Sargent his arithmetic after class, Stephen imagines that no one except his mother loves Sargent. A slight framed runt of a child, Sargent reminds Stephen of himself. As he imagines Sargent’s mother doting on the boy, Stephen’s thoughts float back to his own recently deceased mother, who is haunting his memory.
History: At the start of the episode, Stephen is teaching the boys a history lesson. During the discussion with Mr. Deasy, the elder man offers Stephen a history lesson of Ireland, to which Stephen replies, “History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”
Teacher vs. Learner: Both Stephen and Mr. Deasy both recognize that Stephen will not be in this job long. Stephen acknowledges early in the episode that the kids don’t respect him and his slack authority with which he holds class. Later, Mr. Deasy tells Stephen that he doesn’t believe he’ll be in the job long, to which Stephen offers up that he is more of a learner than a teacher.
Jews and Gentiles: Mr. Deasy offers Stephen several anti-Semitic positions during their conversation as the wages exchange hands. Stephen points out that merchants can be Jew or gentile. Mr. Deasy praises the English for their “pay their own way” spirit but says that the England is caving in from within because of the Jews. He offers up the reason why Ireland has never persecuted Jews because “we never let them in.” This is an interesting foreshadow because the main character of Ulysses, Leopold Boom, will later be revealed as a Jew.
Conflict avoidance: In episode one, Stephen gave up the key to the tower too Mulligan and Haines without a fight. In Nestor, Stephen allows the boys to mock one another without asserting any authority. During the conversation with Mr. Deasy, Stephen offers only minor deflections to several incorrect or disagreeable assertions. As we’ll see throughout the book, Stephen abhors violence of any sort and avoids it completely.
This short episode is packed with themes and sets the stage for plenty more depth. I hope you are at least a little intrigued by the book. Now on my fourth read through, I’m enjoying Ulysses more than ever.
Each one of these posts could be at least double the length with additional linkages and historical notes, but I’m keeping it fairly high level. This process is slowing my reading significantly, but I’m finding that it is paying off. With an eye for themes, I’m being more methodical and purposed in my reading. And if I inspire just one eager reader to begin enjoying Ulysses, it will be well worth the time.
It is May, which means it is time for my annual reading of James Joyce’s Ulysses. Since I’m back to my blog this year and I’ve removed my personal restriction on Quixote Goes from being a travel blog, I thought I’d spend some time introducing my faithful readers to this amazing book.
Before jumping in to the first episode, I want to introduce you to the cult behind Ulysses. First, it took Joyce roughly 5 years to write this book. He first serialized the beginning chapters in The American Review in 1918 and it was eventually published by an American woman named Sylvia Beach in Paris on Joyce’s 40th birthday, February 2, 1922. It was immediately banned in all English-speaking countries for what was at the time far too explicit content. The history of the book is well documented. In fact, there are plenty of books about the book Ulysses, my favorite of which is The Most Dangerous Book: The Battle for James Joyce’s Ulysses. The book is now celebrated around the world. There are round-the-clock public readings in New York City and a full location-to-location reenactment of the story in Dublin, all celebrated on Bloomsday, June 16.
Perhaps the other thing to note about Ulysses is that it is roughly structured on Homer’s The Odyssey and it switches literary techniques from episode to episode, which makes it a challenging read. Joyce intended Ulysses not to be a story for a million readers, but one a single reader could read a million times. This book is densely packed with multiple layers and plenty of plot connections throughout. Finally, a note about the plot. The book is set in Dublin, Ireland and takes place over one 24-hour period set on June 16, 1904. The Gilbert schema is a great reference to keep track of the times and themes of the book.
Episode One – Telemachus
In Telemachus, who is the son of Odysseus in The Odyssey, we meet several characters – none of which are the main character. We start off with Malachi “Buck” Mulligan, the boisterous, blasphemous, fast-talking “friend” of Stephen Daedalus. We also meet Daedalus, who Joyce introduced us to in an earlier work titled, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. As that book title suggests, Daedalus represents Joyce. He is incredibly well-educated, but pensive and brooding, and certainly not one for hygiene by modern standards, as we learn about his monthly bathing policy. We’re also introduced to Haines, an Englishman who is “hanging out” in Dublin and has latched on to Mulligan and Daedalus for some exposure to Ireland and the Irish. The trio are staying in the Martello Tower on the Sandymount Beach looking out onto Dublin Bay.
This episode is based on real-life events in which Joyce, his compatriot, Oliver Gogarty (note the syllabic match to Malachi Mulligan), and an Englishman stayed in the tower. The book version doesn’t exactly match the facts available, which are well detailed in many other resources available, so I’ll stick to the plot of the book.
Over the course of the chapter, we learn that Stephen Daedalus has harbored an offense that he took when he overheard Mulligan tell his mother that Stephen’s mother was “beastly dead.” We also get introduced to the memory of Stephen’s dying mother and a sense that her death haunts Stephen. Stephen has raised societal eyebrows himself because he refused to pray over his mother when she asked him to do so as she lay dying. Like much of Ulysses, the action here isn’t very action-based. It is a book of dialogue – both outer and inner. We read the spoken words of the characters as well as the unspoken thoughts all without quotations and – as mentioned earlier – it can be a difficult thing for a new reader to sort out.
The three young men – Daedalus, Mulligan, and Haines – have breakfast, interact with the milk maid, and then go to the bay where Mulligan has a swim. The episode ends when Mulligan demands the key for the Martello Tower and money from Daedalus. Stephen gives up the key and some money and then decides he will not return to stay there. It ends with Daedalus thinking / muttering the word “Usurper.” Several themes come out for me in the opening chapter.
Ireland / the Irish people – There are several references to Ireland throughout Telemachus. Haines speaks the Irish language to the milk maid, but she – a poor Irishwoman – at first thinks he’s speaking French because she doesn’t speak or understand it. Daedalus mentions that the “cracked looking glass is the symbol of Irish art.” And in defense of his infrequent bathing habits, Daedalus remarks, “all Ireland is washed by the Gulf Stream.” Finally, and most demonstrative, Daedalus remarks to Haines about having two masters, and a third “who wants me for odd jobs.” When Haines inquires about the masters, Daedalus quips, “a crazy [English] queen, old and jealous” and “the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church.” There’s plenty of commentary here about Ireland at the time: the politics of language, English rule, and the influence of the Catholic church.
Mother – I mentioned earlier about Stephen’s mother and her untimely death; as well as Stephen’s refusal to pray over her as she lay dying. This will be brought to the fore in later chapters. Mulligan was speaking to his own mother when the “beastly dead” comment was made. There is also a passage about the sea being “our great sweet mother.”
The Greeks – The chapter title is Telemachus. Stephen’s last name is Greek; in mythology, Daedalus was the father of Icharus, who famously flew too close to the sun. Mulligan mentions that Daedalus “must learn Greek, so he can read the classics in the native language.” For me, the reference to the word “usurper” harkens back to Homer’s The Odyssey, in which several suitors come to Odysseus’ house and effectively usurp his lands and livestock as they set up camp and try to marry his wife Penelope while Odysseus is away.
I’m sure there are more themes than what I’ve called out. I’m sure the academics will say that I’ve gotten the major themes wrong. But that’s what I love about this book. Ulysses is for everyone who is brave enough to have a go. It is written between the lines so everyone will take different things from it and learn a little more with each new read. I hope you’ve enjoyed my take on the first Episode. I’ll continue to share as I make my way through the book with this – my fourth annual reading. I’m hoping to be done on Bloomsday (June 16), but I’m off to a slow start. Now for the questions!
Have you read Ulysses? What are your thoughts about my review of Telemachus?
Is there another book that you can read over and over?
I know I’ve mentioned it in other posts, but I’ll say it again. I am a huge fan of James Joyce. With this year’s major trip going to Ireland, there was simply no way I was going to miss out on having a Joyce / Ulysses experience. Readers of James Joyce will know that June 16, aka Bloomsday, is THE big day for fanatics. For the less initiated, Joyce’s book, Ulysses takes place over the course of this single day in the city of Dublin. I couldn’t be in Dublin in June, so I celebrated my own Bloomsday on Sunday, March 5. While doing my trip research, I was delighted to find not only a James Joyce Centre but also a Ulysses Walking Tour. I have taken several walking tours in the past and they feature in some of my fondest travel memories. After getting my private walking tour set up with David Halpin, Owner and Guide of Dublin Ulysses Tours, my day was set. I was ready to geek out.
Before the walking tour, I decided to visit the James Joyce Centre. I’m glad I experienced the Centre before the walking tour. While I want to support the Centre in its efforts to preserve and promote the works of James Joyce, it honestly left a bit to be desired. There are three floors to the Center and the unguided tour is started by climbing the stairs to the top floor to experience the museum on the way back down. The top floor has an interesting Ulysses publication “family tree,” which traces the various Ulysses editions relative to their publishing houses and publication dates. There is also a video that plays three short documentaries about Ulysses. On the second floor, there are several painted portraits from the Joyce family as well as visual schema of each of the chapters of Ulysses. The ground floor has the gift store and a viewing parlor with John Huston’s movie, The Dead playing, but the display lacked any indication as to how it tied to Joyce. So… the James Joyce Centre was good but not great. At €5 per person, I think it’s priced right for the value delivered. If you go, plan for about 1 hour max. The short documentaries on the top floor, which I haven’t found to be available on the internet, take just over a half an hour to watch in total. The rest of the museum will take no more than 30 minutes to walk through.
Having wrapped up the time at the museum, it was time for the main event. David and I had arranged via email to meet at The Palace Bar on Fleet Street in the Temple Bar neighborhood. We recognized each other fairly quickly and settled into a back corner over pints of Guiness. Note that David provides customized, personal tours and he’s constantly looking to improve, so if you go (and I highly recommend it regardless of your experience level with Joyce / Ulysses), your experience will likely differ from mine.
The Palace Bar is a time capsule with wood paneled walls, a hardwood bar and a friendly curate to match. While there is a single mounted TV, it was turned off. This is no sports bar. The Palace is an old fashioned pub meant for talking and to add to the ambiance, its walls are adorned with pictures and portraits of the writers and artists who have frequented it over the years. The seats are comfortable and we were free to arrange them as we pleased. The bar was about half full and the other patrons paid us no mind as David pulled out his hefty copy of Ulysses to call out specific quotes and points. During our chat, David and I discussed our own stories and how we came to experience this tremendous author and his seminal work. David is a polite conversationalist and he really takes his time to make a connection. We chatted for nearly an hour. Then we packed up and headed out into the early spring Dublin weather for Bloom-style walk around Dublin.
Immediately outside, David pointed out the gold colored memorials built into the sidewalk commemorating four of the Irish writers who frequented The Palace. He explained their connection to literature and to Joyce. At this point, I had been in and out of The Palace twice and hadn’t seen these gold colored plaques. As I would soon discover, I had been walking over similar commemorative sidewalk features for the previous several days.
After leaving The Palace, David took us down backstreets pointing out Dublin street art dedicated to Irish literature. We stopped by the statues outside of Oliver St. John Gogarty’s Bar and viewed the murals on Bloom’s Hotel.
Mural of Molly Bloom on Blooms Hotel
Mural of Leopold Bloom on Blooms Hotel
From there, we walked out to College Green and headed toward Trinity College Dublin. David is full of insights about the roles the characters and buildings played in literary history. I wouldn’t do it justice, so you’ll just have to take the tour. From here, we turned right onto Grafton Street and picked up the trail of Ulysses fictional protagonist, Leopold Bloom. This was my third time to Grafton Street in as many days because it is the main shopping district; however, like those plaques outside The Palace Bar, it was my first time seeing the gold colored Bloom plaques embedded in the pavement. Pictures of three of the plaques follow.
These plaques mark the walk of the fictional Bloom as he traveled the very accurately portrayed streets of Dublin during the course of the day and night of June 16, 1904. Experienced readers will already know from the pictures above that the plaques quote passages from Ulysses at the time in the book when Bloom was at that real life juncture. Off of Grafton, we turned left onto Duke Street, which is where I learned not only that Davy Byrnes still exists in a modern state, but also that there is a Ulysses Rare Book Store. I would later visit the store and purchase one of several vintage copies of Ulysses available for sale. For vintage book lovers, this place is worth the trip just to get a glimpse of the Ulysses first edition that is stored under glass behind the counter. But there are plenty of more accessible vintage books by a wide variety of authors on the shelves that the average wallet can afford.
We then followed Bloom’s footsteps over to the National Library, where David brought Bloom and his arch rival, Blazes Boylan, to life with a quick reading of the corresponding parts of Ulysses. From here, we traveled to a neighborhood hotel for a quick stop and a view of what is perhaps the least known – and by far the best rendering I have seen – memorial to Joyce and Ulysses. David’s narrative perfectly illustrated the quoted text as we made our way around the 360 degree monument. Given that this piece isn’t yet called out on Joyce sight-seeing website lists, I’ll keep this spot concealed and again refer the reader to David’s Dublin Ulysses Tour to catch a glimpse.
From here, we made our way to Sweny’s pharmacy, which is where Bloom fictionally picked up the lemon soap for his wife Molly. Sweny’s is no longer a working pharmacy, but is rather a standing homage to Joyce and societal home to – these are my words – a loose knit group of local Joyce volunteers who are committed to keeping the sights and sounds of his work alive. Inside, David introduced me the volunteer in chief, PJ, who shook my hand and inquired about my surname. After providing him with my four nearest related family names, PJ rattled off a brief and authoritative geographical history of my 4 bloodlines. After that, he sat down and sang me a song in Irish as he strummed along on guitar. And with that act, I’m pretty sure I joined this Joyce “society” in whatever form it exists. My tour with David had concluded, but my evening was far from over.
There was almost no question as to whether I was coming along with David to “the reading” after my whirlwind initiation. PJ just looked at me and said, “We’ve had to move the reading across the street to Kennedy’s because we have a good sized group. This is good because we’ll have some pints as we read. Grab a book and let’s go.” So, I did.
“The reading” as the name would suggest, is a group of people sitting around the table each with the same book in hand and each taking his or her turn to read a page. The book was Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, which I had never read.
What I did know about the book is that it took Joyce 18 years to write and that the language was almost entirely Joyce’s own amalgamation of various languages around the world. It has a reputation for being nearly unreadable. There was no time for me to be intimidated. About 4 minutes after I sat down and caught the place in the book, it was my turn to read. It is said of Joyce’s work that one of the best ways to access it is to simply read it aloud. I’m sure I got most of it wrong. Others sounded more authoritative in their readings. However, I’m sure that the pints of Guiness that were flowing helped all of us “just go with it.” With one loop round the table of 9 readers, I settled into the process and had a great time. After several loops and a few pints, PJ signaled that it was time to wrap up the reading and he gathered up the books to take back across to Sweny’s.
As the books closed, the discussions opened. I formally met most everyone around the table and we quickly leapt into topics large and small: gun laws in America; US Presidents Trump, Obama, and a sprinkling of Bill Clinton; Irish social classes and Dublin neighborhood distribution relative to the River Liffey; the movie Pulp Fiction, and on and on. Unfortunately, I had to wrap up the evening and get back to my family. As I made my rounds and said my goodbyes, it was a bittersweet moment. I had immediately connected with a Joycian tribe and after a few delightful hours, it was time to go.
Finding Joyce’s Dublin
Through his works and his correspondences, we know that Joyce was fiercely committed to the human experience. After all, what landed Ulysses on the banned book list in all English speaking countries as soon as it was published is the fact that it is an odyssey of the human body and mind. Joyce wrote about things that – at the time – just couldn’t be written about. My day up until that point had been committed to knowing more of Joyce and the Dublin of his time. I was focused on facts and figures. But as I reflected on the day during my long walk along the Liffey back to my Airbnb, I began to realize that my evening at Kennedy’s Bar, connecting with David, PJ and others who share a common interest as we discussed the politics and issues of our day, was as much taking part in Joyce’s Dublin as anything I have done. This is Dublin City. Constantly renewing while celebrating its rich history. Today’s Dublin is Joyce’s Dublin. To experience it, one needs to find a pub, grab a pint, and start a conversation.
Friday, March 2, 2018. If I were to believe the headlines and talking heads on the news, this day was supposed to be filled with danger as the “killer storm” Emma which gave way to #thebeastfromtheeast settled in on Ireland. And yet somehow, we’ve made it alive. Dublin is our third and final leg of our cross-country tour of Ireland. We had significant plans to see various sights and do a bit of shopping. But… Mother Nature has thrown us a snowball. The snow was predicted to be as deep as 10 inches (25 cm) in Dublin City. By my estimates, we’re right around 4 inches total over 2 days of snowing. For a country that gets roughly 2 inches of snow per year, it is a lot. They’re not equipped with snow plows and such, so they do a little grit-spreading and hope for the best.
Closed for Business, but Open for Craic
All major tourist attractions were closed, as were all public transit systems. Essentially all businesses were closed and very few taxis were operating. This vibrant, mischievous city eerily rolled up its sidewalks for a bit of snow. However, the residents of Dublin were not to be deterred. Being from Ohio, where we get plenty of weather of all types, I happily went out in the weather several times and I encountered loads of people. In fact, at the height of the storm on Friday morning, I set off on a run from Sarsfield Quay (pronounced “key”) along the River Liffey and out to the ocean via Irishtown. The round trip run was 10 miles and took me a little longer because I had to check Google Maps from time to time. Travel Tip: When traveling to a city outside your home country, I highly recommend downloading offline maps of your destination. It will allow you to see where you are and navigate streets without using data. Its a handy replacement to using a physical map. I want to be clear here: when I say “navigate” I’m not saying that it will give you turn by turn directions like navigation, but it does allow you to see your “dot” on the street and you can zoom in on your location to see street names and notable locations. Every time I ventured out, I found people walking their dogs, searching for open grocery stores, or having a bit of craic (Irish term loosely meaning “fun;” pronounced “crack”). I came across people building snow men and several “gangs” of teenage boys itching for a snowball fight.
I was hit with several snowballs during my travels in the city. I took it for what it was – boys having fun. I noticed that only men who appeared fit enough to defend themselves were targeted, so this wasn’t a situation where kids were out being bullies. As I made my way in the streets, I would catch a glimpse of someone making a snowball and turning away. It was a sure sign that one was coming my way. A couple of times, they’d miss and I’d talk a little trash about their poor marksmanship. Usually, they rose to the challenge and fired a few more my way. Only once was I hit in a malicious way. I was walking past an older teen with grocery bags in both of my hands. I noticed the snowball in his hand and made a mental note that I’d brace for the throw about 15 paces after we pass one another. It didn’t take so long. Right after he passed me, he smashed the snowball into the back of my head. For a second, I considered dropping my bags and retaliating. But I’m sure that’s what he wanted, so I just kept walking without giving him the satisfaction. Not everyone took the same turn-the-other-cheek approach that I did.
Things Heat up in the Cold
On two occasions, I saw the snowball situation escalate. On one occasion several boys pelted a van with snowballs. The driver stopped, words were exchanged, but not much more came of it. On another occasion, a boy threw a snowball over a car – to be clear, it didn’t even hit the car – and the driver pulled over. This was in the midst of “The Beast” and the driver hopped out in only a t-shirt and jeans. He was itching for a fight. Muscle bound and shaved head with a chain connecting his wallet, he got out and gestured at the boys. I couldn’t hear the words, but he clearly wanted a fight. The boys – there must have been 8-10 of them – all stayed out of arms reach and I thought that it was over. Nope. The man made a “That’s what I thought” gesture and started to turn around to get back into his car. And that’s when they hit him with three snowballs at the same time. I was laughing out loud, incredulous. I live in a de-escalated world where this simply doesn’t happen. Furious, the man rounded on the boys and took a few steps in the direction of the snowballs. The boys scattered, but it only lasted a few steps. When the man dind’t get hold of anyone they turned back around and fired off more. I kept thinking that this is going to end in fisticuffs if someone doesn’t layoff. That’s when the girlfriend got out of the car.
Apparently muscle man had a significant other in the vehicle and she was tired of seeing her man pelted with snowballs while not one of the snowball-hurling kids being willing to physically fight him. So she jumps out of the car and into the street while making wild hand gestures and – although I only wish I could hear her – yelling madly at the group of kids. She’s egging them on to either fight her or to hit her with a snowball, which thankfully no one does. I assume at this point if she gets hit with a snowball, muscle man is going to run someone down with his car. This Mexican standoff continues down the road in front of the Guinness factory, and then well beyond our ability to see it with the car moving about 20 yards at a time. Here’s what I know: I didn’t read about it in the papers the following day and I didn’t see a snowball fight-related murder on the news. So I can only assume it all ended peacefully enough.
Slow Down and Have a Laugh
In the end, I think this incident was a perfect microcosm of Dublin. It’s a vibrant city full of young adult things to do but it lacks a bit of maturity. Yes, there is an incredibly rich literary history, but if you look into those authors, few of them were above a bawdy joke or a long night of hard drinking. And that’s just fine by me. I know that I’m certainly guilty of taking myself too seriously from time to time and this mischievous city with its public shutdown and wild snowball fights is just the reminder I needed to sit back, have a drink, and enjoy the ride.
If you’d like to connect with a people and their culture, spend a couple of days in the hospital. I know, I know, that sentence didn’t end the way you were thinking. Our trip hasn’t exactly gone the way we thought it would either. On the second half of our bus tour of the Ring of Kerry, my wife started getting sick. By the time I got her back to our Airbnb in Killarney, she was literally green and feverish. After she had a nap and overcame her fever, we consulted WebMD and discovered her symptoms checked all the boxes for an appendicitis. Having never experienced a health problem away from the US, we called her insurance company for some direction. The response was swift and admirably simple: go to the hospital and save your receipts for reimbursement.
On the Road to Tralee
Our stay is in Killarney, which is a lovely little town of about 14,000 residents and no hospital. The closest hospital is about 30 minutes drive into a neighboring town of Tralee. We consulted our Airbnb hosts and they confirmed that Kerry General Hospital in Tralee is the place where they go if needed. So, we packed up and headed out. I was raised in the US so driving a sizable right-side drive, manual transmission vehicle on the left side of the road is a bit disorienting. Luckily, I’ve had a few days practice so I was able to deal with the added stress of driving my wife to the hospital at night on roads I hadn’t seen. However, I’ll readily admit that my knuckles were white from time to time over the half hour drive. Over the next 36 hours, I would make this drive in both directions several times as I made provisional trips to and from the hospital. Travel Tip: Planning to drive in Ireland? On top of allowing yourself some time to orient to the left side of the road before jumping into city traffic, I HIGHLY recommend paying the extra fee for the GPS. It took the guess work out of reading road signs (written in Irish first, English second), navigating countless roundabouts, and helped me keep track of the not-always-noticeable speed limit signs.
In hindsight, I’d have looked up the information before traveling to know what to expect. What I learned in our exhaustive time in waiting room of the Emergency Department is that Irish Healthcare is among the slowest in Europe. My wife was seen promptly for admissions and was seen by the triage nurse within 35 minutes. After a very short interview, she informed us that it would be a 4-5 hour wait before we could see the doctor. It was closer to 6 hours. Having arrived at the hospital at roughly 9 PM, we were able to see the doctor at 2:45 AM. Other than taking blood and urine samples and a basic interview of symptoms, no diagnostic work was done until the next morning. At least she had a bed. After sitting in the aluminum bleachers in the waiting area for hours on end, getting a bit of rest in a hospital gurney helped her feel a little more comfortable. I spent the early morning in minimally padded chair next to her and only nodded off briefly once or twice. Over her 36 hour stay, she had an ultrasound, a CT scan, and several consultations with knowledgeable and caring nurses and doctors. The amenities left a little more to be desired.
Other than during her initial consultation with the doctor, she spent the entire time on a gurney in the hallway because the hospital was over-full, which we’re told is quite routine. I promptly lost my chair when she moved into the hallway and either had to go sit in a waiting room away from her or stand in the hallway near her bed. Perhaps the most frustrating part of the visit was the delivery relative to commitments. For instance, after learning that her ultrasound did not help with the diagnosis at 10 AM, we were told she would have a CT scan by 3 PM. She actually received a CT scan at 5:30 PM and was later told that only emergency CT scans are read after 5. That was when we realized that she’d be spending another night in the hallway. Thankfully she didn’t require surgery and was released the next morning with prescriptions. In the end, I would rate the care received as very good, the amenities as less-than-adequate, and the wait times to be longer than average. Travel Tip:If you need hospital care in Ireland, Americans can expect quality care comparable to what we receive in the US but with significant wait times.
The Human Connection
Spending 36 hours in a hallway gurney along with other patients and their families provides significant opportunities to connect with people. We met, among others, a 12 year old girl who broke both wrists in an elliptical bike accident, an elderly lady who was denied an oxygen tank because she hadn’t demonstrated that she had “given up the fags” (stopped smoking), a retirement-aged mother who personally thanked me for the existence of Bon Jovi, and a nurse who wondered what we thought about President Trump. We also got the chance to sit quietly for a bit and listen to conversations among locals. There is a wonderful, polite rhythm to the Irish conversation. It might go something like this (the reader will have to insert the Irish lilt):
Man 1: Alright John?
Man 2: Never better. You and the missus?
Man 1: Nary a complaint
Man 2: Where’s that no good partner of yours?
Man 1: Did ye check the canteens and pubs?
Man 2: I ‘spect he’ll be shutting ’em down later
Man 1: Dontcha know
Man 2: Alright, gotta get on with it
Man 1: Good luck to ye
Man 2: T’anks a million, take care
I mentioned in my last post that Ireland and her people reminded me of my childhood home in Southern Ohio. Never was this more apparent than in the hospital. The spoken and body language communicates so much with so little. There is a wonderful wit and wisdom communicated with a sense of humility in these little exchanges. Briefly, one can let the another know that he feels for him and that “we’re in this together.” My wife and I discussed this at length. We believe this comes with the homogeneity of culture that permeates much of rural Ireland. Because of their shared culture and vernacular, they’re “hyper-communicating,” which is my term for sending paragraphs of dialogue in verbal and non-verbal shorthand. And while our accents are different, this brand of communication is very much a part of Southern Ohio’s Scotch-Irish culture. In fact, we even share several colloquialisms. To illustrate, I was giving one of the nurses a hard time and she didn’t respond, feigning frustration. My wife told her to not take me seriously and I said, “Ah, she knows I’m only just funnin’.” This prompted an almost immediate reply from a third party nurse: “Where did you say you’re from again? Because you’re clearly Irish.”
I wouldn’t wish an appendicitis on anyone. My wife experienced intense pain and I’m sure she was “this close” to having an appendectomy while in the middle of our vacation. However, the experience – without question – gave us a chance to better connect with our host country. And when you boil it all down, that human connection, that rediscovery of the common thread that binds us all together, is essentially why we travel. In the waiting room, as we were chatting with the mom and her little girl with the broken wrists, an elderly lady overheard us and asked if we were American. We said that we were. She smiled from ear to ear, looked at each one of us and said, “I’m sorry for your trouble, but welcome home.”
Ireland has been on my bucket list for quite some time. Like many in the US, and like most people from the town in which I hail, I have more than a little Irish heritage. I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland and have a look around. My favorite author, James Joyce, is also famously Irish. Walking around Dublin and seeing the sights of Joyce’s epic Ulysses has been of dream of mine for several years too. Our trip plan is to start in Galway and see the Cliffs of Moher. Then we’ll travel to Killarney and tour – among other things – the Ring of Kerry. Having checked the box on beautiful countryside, we’ll move on to Dublin for several days. I’m a few days into the tour and I wanted to pause for a few reflections.
Ireland feels like home
I’m originally from Southern Ohio. Think, “foothills of the Appalachian Mountains along the banks of the Ohio River.” My part of Ohio is dominated by Scotch-Irish culture that has had time to ferment in a small town environment for a few hundred years since our ancestors predominantly migrated from Ireland. Our people are a heavily accented, slow-paced, kindly folk who are fiercely independent and suspicious of “outsiders” who might be selling solutions to problems that they likely don’t understand. The Southern Ohio landscape is dominated by lovely rolling green pastures, forested hills and plentiful natural water sources that support farming and outdoor activities such as hunting and fishing. I honestly can’t say I was surprised to find a very similar land, culture, and people. Admittedly, I haven’t made it to Dublin yet, but what I have experienced feels like my rural Ohio roots. What I have been struck by is the amazing beauty of the Emerald Isle.
Did I mention that Ireland is Amazingly Beautiful?
So far, I have driven from Dublin to Galway, taken the Cliffs of Moher tour, driven from Galway to Limerick with a brief stop for lunch and a tour or King John’s Castle, and then on again from Limerick to Killarney. The sights are absolutely a.maz.ing. In just a couple of days, we’ve been able to see (pictured in order) 1. The River Corrib in Galway, 2. The Cliffs of Moher, 3. The rocky coast of the The Burren, 4. King John’s Castle in Limerick, and 5. Muckross Lake in Killarney. I am absolutely enamored with the beauty of this country – and, while Southern Ohio cannot totally compete – the sights are at least reminiscent.
The River Corrib in Galway
The Cliffs of Moher
The rocky coast of The Burren
View of the River Shannon from atop King John’s Castle