I read Joyce in Trinity, and loved being able to trace the footstep of its characters outside the college walls MoLI, Dublin’s new Museum of Literature includes among its exhibits Copy No 1 of Ulysses - the doorstopper handed to James Joyce on 22 February, 1922. 100 years since that publication, this is a super place to stop by and immerse yourself. There are glass cases, but nothing feels stuffy. MoLI is pronounced ‘Molly’ in a nod to Molly Bloom, and multi-media displays and inclusive exhibitions keep things relevant and zippy. Ulysses, a Treasure Hunt , sees episodes of the novel depicted in small wooden cases dotted around the museum, reflecting its puzzling nature, for example. I read Joyce in Trinity, and loved being able to trace the footsteps of its characters outside the college walls. Its forensic detail carries a sadness too, in that lots of its locations have disappeared - from No 7 Eccles Street to Barney Kiernan’s pub. Others, like Sweny’s Chemist (just outside the Lincoln Gate, and today run by volunteers who do lunchtime readings) survive. Bloomsday has shown how literary events can bring business into a city, but the Joyce industry also contains cautionary tales about how culture can be reduced to crass commercialism. Souvenir t-shirts, tea towels, a boozy bias towards dead (and mostly male) writers… it can sometimes feel like a theme park. The challenge, I suppose, is to keep developing a kind of tourism that entertains visitors while respecting local culture, environments and the authors’ work. The books we love can provide deeply personal connections to the places we visit. Thoughtful tours, trails, museums and gatherings can elevate that, bringing books to life for us while creating more sustainable businesses for local communities. As we emerge from the pandemic, it feels like more people will look to travel in more meaningful ways. I plan to do it myself, if can just overcome my reading problem. Pól Ó Conghaile is Travel Editor at the Irish Independent
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