just for fun.: dublin

i went to the National Library of Ireland today to do research on samuel beckett and painter jack b. yeats! it was pretty legit, i got a reader's card and went into this beautiful, turquoise-painted, domed reading room. unfortunately, though, a few of the sources that i was hoping to look at weren't available, and i also ran out of time before meeting with one of the librarians. but at least i can say i've achieved my objective of coming to dublin.

w.b. yeats. yeats yeats yeats.

(no photos of the interior allowed)

then at 12:45 i met with one of the librarians, Paddy Hawe who my NYU professor got me in touch with. as soon as we met, he started pointing to different surrounding buildings and telling me about how they relate to samuel beckett and/or jack b. yeats. paddy is a 54 yr old man who's been working at the library for 10 years. he's really really knowledgeable about beckett, yeats but also irish literature/history and dublin in general. he's a true dubliner, born and raised right here. we grabbed lunch at the alliance francois and he just started telling lots and lots of stories. how dublin has changed, how beckett was a cynic, how yeats was interested in circuses/piracy and most extensively about his family! apparently his uncle was a big shot athlete in dublin who collected a lot of art and books, and owned several yeats pieces. most of his anecdotes were filled with references to his many family members, and he mentioned them so often that i think i can draw a limited family tree for the Hawes.

while we were talking about beckett and yeats' relationship despite their 35 year difference we realized we're exactly 35 years apart as well! kinda weird, but also cool. one of my favorite quotes/jokes was "there was no sex in ireland until the arrival of the television in '63." maybe because it was that taboo until this mass media made people more prone to exposure to the subject. he said his lunch hour was until 2, but for some reason he seemed fine talking with me until 3:45!! it did cut into the time i was planning on sight-seeing, but i enjoyed chitchatting with a knowledgeable local who loved to share stories. tomorrow he's taking me on a short walking tour, including the national gallery to see yeats' paintings in the flesh.

from there, with only an hour and fifteen minutes until the tourists sights closed, i frantically started running around to see as much as possible. thankfully, it was a really sunny day so i had a great time wandering.

St. Stephen's Green. beautiful park right by the national library.

St. Patrick's Cathedral. went, saw it, and crossed it off my list. i didn't go inside because it was expensive and i was running out of time! perhaps i would've been more impressed it i'd seen the interior.

marsh library.

i got there at 10 'til five so the keeper (librarian) let me in for free!

built in 1701, marsh library is the first public library in ireland and one of the earliest in the british isles. beautiful dark oak bookcases, leather bound books, and wooden ladders! really small, perfectly preserved 1700s library. the glass cases are part of the exhibit on exotic animals. so, i was specifically told that photography is prohibited, but how could i not? so i snuck in these 2 shots.

you see the old man with the bicycle? when I stepped out of marsh library and was taking photos, he approached me and asked "did you enjoy the library?" and i answered yes and he started conversing with me. unfortunately, i didn't understand much of what he was saying because of his super thick accent, but more due to his mumbling. so i just smiled and nodded along. he asked me if i was traveling alone and i said yes, and he was very impressed. a few other words i caught were "tribes.....london.....italy.....abraham lincoln" and this whole sentence, "the british occupied us for 300 years, but in the end we beat them!" i guess that sums up the whole irish sentiment about the british. the fact that the topic of their independence would come up within 3 minutes of conversing with a stranger shows how lies at the very core of the irish identity.