Cyclin' to Dublin

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Scott Smoot at Dublin, Joyce's martello tower -- virtually

From Iceland to Ireland is a difference of one letter and 884 miles, Reykjavik to Dublin. I've biked those miles on trails around Atlanta since August 2. Now I pause to pose with a backdrop of old Dublin from atop a "martello" tower, one of many built to defend British territory from Napoleon.

Since my only time in Ireland was an hour in Shannon Airport, how can Dublin belong to my virtual tour of "places I've lived or loved?" I have two reasons: James Joyce and DNA.

What I love is the opening chapter of Ulysses. James Joyce begins his novel at this very tower after sunrise on June 16, 1904, as a covey of young men boarding there are variously cooking sausage, shaving, or sleeping in, full of literature and themselves. One of these is Stephen Dedalus. The novel follows him and his friend Leopold Bloom through this one day.

So I hear; I never finished reading the book. I used to try to read it every June 16, the day called "Bloom's Day" by fans worldwide who celebrate with staged readings of the entire novel. Chapter one was more a delight every time, but I've always bogged down before chapter 10. Finally, I just skipped to the last page (it's a good one!), wrote about what I appreciated, and put the book away. See Happy Bloom's Day (06/16/2007).

I also claim Ireland for my ancestral home. When I told my Aunt Harriet that Thomas Cahill's book How the Irish Saved Civilization (1995) made me wish I were Irish, she quipped, "Silly! You are Irish." She would know. In 1967, her Aunt Lucille Smoot's family history came to my dad from their father Dewey Smoot with this note: "This is not a complete history but maybe... it [can] satisfy your children. As for me, I couldn't care less in re: such matters." I'm with him; I'll take Aunt Harriet's word. [Family Corner tells more about the family.]

←← | ← || →Use the arrows to follow the tour from the beinning