Following mature reflection I have come to the infallible conclusion that Bloomsday, or the Monday nearest to June 16th (today, for example!) should be a public holiday. Ponder it, as we recover from the 120th anniversary of its 1904 incarnation – albeit fictional (mere detail!).
It was also the day when James Joyce had his first date with Nora, later mother of their children and his wife from 1931. Telling his father about Nora Barnacle, the older man responded: “She’ll stick to you.” And she did.
Ulysses, set on June 16th, with its less than heroic main character Leopold Bloom and voted best novel of the 20th century, as well as Joyce himself and the Dublin he immortalised – deserve celebration, you’ll agree. (Says this dedicated culchie!)
Imagine the attention were Ireland to have a public holiday celebrating a fictional character. (Don’t mention St Brigid!) It could be up there with the Wild Atlantic Way as a tourist attraction. And in June, when the weather is (occasionally) better.
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Besides, wouldn’t a public holiday towards the middle of June, as opposed to now when it is on the first Monday of the month, make practical sense too; pitted six weeks after the May public holiday and six weeks before the August public holiday?
It could also mean that instead of a Bloomsday we would have Bloomsdays, stretching through Saturday, Sunday and Monday in mid-June. Fine, seeing all those old fogeys conspicuously wandering the streets of our capital in Edwardian gear over a full weekend, as opposed to just one day, could prove a trial for many. But we’d put up with it for the greater good, wouldn’t we?
It might even be extended to celebrating Joyce the Father too. James was John Joyce’s favourite child and when he died in 1931 his grieving son wrote: “I was very fond of him always, being a sinner myself, and even liked his faults. Hundreds of pages and scores of characters in my books came from him. His dry (or rather wet) wit and his expression of face convulsed me often with laughter ... I got from him his portraits, a waistcoat, a good tenor voice, and an extravagant licentious disposition.”
So, let Bloomsday be a weekend of celebration, when we could all re-joyce and be glad!
Rejoice, from Old French rejoiss, for gladden, rejoice.
