Ravings of a Textual Deviant

The worst part was, I couldn’t figure out why my experiment kept failing. The last thing I’d do was admit it to my boss, though. I finished changing the battery in the meter, dropped the dead 9-volt into my pants pocket, and went to the status meeting.

My explanation was long-winded, highly-technical, and complete bullshit, but the boss hasn’t put in serious lab time in years, so he just nodded, pretending to understand.

I thought I was home free until I smelled smoke.

The 9-volt wasn’t dead after all. A key had bridged the gap, and my pocket was scorched.

Friday, 3/9

Friday was a gorgeous day in Dublin, sunny, but windy. The day started out well enough, with as close as we got to a traditional Irish breakfast at Cafe Canale, which was on the walk from the hotel to the city center. I had scrambled eggs with cheese, white toast with butter and orange marmalade, and tea from a dented red metal pot.

By the way, in a lot of the cafes, you can order tea, or you can order a pot of tea for two for slightly less than two individual teas. I approve, not so much because of the miniscule savings, but because there is something inherently cozy and sociable about sharing a pot of tea.

From breakfast, we went over to Dublin castle for The Tour. The castle is the only museum in which photography is allowed (in most of the rooms) and I took advantage. The lower yard of Dublin Castle is now a parking lot, but the upper yard is more or less still exactly that; an open courtyard, with sufficiently few openings as to make defense a feasible thing. In fact, the attempt to storm it was made as recently as 1916, but was ultimately unsuccessful, and the GPO (General Post Office) on the north side of the Liffey was taken over instead.

But I digress.

Dublin castle has been through several iterations since the Normans first built it (interestingly enough, it was not built on the site of the old Viking fort on the Liffey—although there are government buildings on that site as well). Only one of the towers from that era is still intact; when the gunpowder tower catches fire as it did at some point in the 1600s, the effects are spectacularly destructive. Like so much of the rest of Dublin, the majority of the current structure dates from Georgian times. Most of the structure is still used as government offices, as well, so the tour only covers a fraction of the complex.

We started out in an entryway that’s larger than my living room, complete with lovely ceiling detail, scupture in niches, marble columns and floors, and the traditional Georgian paint job. From there, we went upstairs, to the landing where the coats of arms of the Presidents of Ireland are displayed. The Presidency is mostly ceremonial, but the national herald does right by them nonetheless.

From there, the tour went to the Connolley Room, where James Connolley spent time recuperating from injuries incurred during the Easter Rising, before his execution. Famously, he was not sufficiently recovered enough to stand for his execution, and was tied to a chair before being shot.

The king’s bedroom, queen’s bedroom, and queen’s dressing room were next, all about the size of a largish bedroom in a modern American house, and the usually brightly-painted walls with white trim, Georgian decor, etc. We went into the ladies’ drawing room (called the Wallflower Room by James Joyce) which was replete with petticoat mirrors, lush carpet (not period), blue brocade, and lots of gold scrollwork. The throne room, last used for its intended purpose by Queen Victoria, was next, also with lots of gold scrollwork, as well as acres of red velvet. There’s a courting couch opposite the throne, but it is now for display purposes only so I can’t speak to its efficacy.

The state dining room is big enough to accommodate a table for 60 (although it’s not in there now), and has domed spy mirrors on the wall opposite the place where the Viceroy or other High Muckety-Muck used to sit. The opposite wall has portraits of the Lords Lieutenant of Ireland, including Charles Cornwallis. Losing the Revolutionary War didn’t seem to have hurt his career any; in addition to being Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, he spend time as an ambassador and had a couple of stints as Governor-general of India. Apparently his disposition never improved, though; his portrait is hung lower than the others and partly obscured by the door in recognition of his brutality in the course of his duties.

The final room in the State Apartments was the ballroom, which has enormous Baroque paintings on the ceiling, creating a sort of allegorical homage to Irish inferiority to the British. Coats of arms of the various members of the now-defunct Order of St. Patrick hang around the room., and the Order’s insignia is prominently displayed above the musicians’ gallery.

Lastly, we went underground, and saw the remains of the gunpowder tower, a surviving postern stair, and part of the (mostly drained) moat. After the tour (which ends with a strategic exit through the cafe and gift shop) we went out back to the garden where the original black pool that gave Dublin its name used to be. The river runs underground now. The garden has some Tim Burton-esque ironwok fencing, some very nice bits of sculpture of various styles tucked away in corners, and snake-headed brick paths knotting their way through the central lawn.

As the Chester Beatty Library was right there, we wandered in, but it turns out that the place is currently undergoing some renovation, and only part of the collection, mostly religious artifacts from around the world, was on display. It was still worth the time to visit; there are 8th-century Southeast Asian Buddhist scrolls, intricate and gorgeous Persian and Turkish Korans, and biblical papyri. This is another museum in which I’d like to spend some quality time, given the opportunity and access to the full collection.

For lunch, we went over to Yamamori on Great George’s Street South; according to Mick the music teacher it’s the best Japanese restaurant in town. Housemate and I both had tempura, which was kind of oily, and I’m sorry to say that we spent most of the rest of the day in various states of gastrointestinal discomfort. Before the tempura made its full effect known, we stopped into Knobs and Knockers, the stock of which is not nearly so risque as the name of the shop would lead one to believe. We also stopped at the supermarket on the way back to the hotel, and ended up skippng a full dinner in favor of tea and apple tarts (which were not bad, for supermarket pastry).

Bet you thought I’d never get back to Dublin blogging, eh?

Thursday, 3/8

Ireland’s National Museums don’t charge admission. That’s right; absolutely free to get in…so we took advantage and went to both the National Museum of History and Archaeology, and then the National Gallery of Ireland, as it was on the way back to the hotel.

The Museum of History and Archaeology is in a fabulous Georgian pile on Kildare Street, right next door to Leinster House (where Parliament makes tea) and two doors down from the National Library. As you walk through the domed-and-lavishly-mosaicked entryway, into the main exhibition space, the first thing you’ll see is an exhibition of prehistoric gold hoards. There are masses of bracelets, torcs, dress-fasteners, sleeve fasteners, lunulae, and various other bright and shiny things. Surrounding this collection is the Prehistoric Ireland display, which includes a complete incomplete boat, weapons and shields, horns, cauldrons, tools, pottery, personal objects, and, ahem, fertility ritual objects.

Other exhibits include The Treasury, which contains a variety of objects (mostly metalworking, from a nifty little gold boat model to a very ambitious chalice) from the Iron Age, through Viking times, and up through the Middle Ages; Viking Ireland (a thousand years on, Dublin is still “that Viking city on the coast” to the rest of Ireland); and Kingship and Sacrifice, which features genuine bog bodies—many of which are nowhere close to intact…making the amazing state of preservation all the more disturbing. After the first two, I couldn’t stand to look, despite my amateur-scientific curiousity. It’s just too eerie, I tell you. The second floor features a reconstruction of a genuine Viking boat, albeit a small one, and a mural with part of the Bayeux tapestry. The Medieval Ireland exibit is also on the second floor, and features three sections, entitled Power, Work, and Prayer. The work section was my personal favorite, as it featured enough everyday objects such as tools, locks, and kitchenware, to really convey an idea of what life was like. The prayer section is much flashier, featuring all kinds of decorative objects like book shrines, croziers, chalices, and reliquaries, all embellished with metalwork and cabochons.

There are also exhibits on glass and ceramics from Cyprus, and an Egyptian collection, but I admit to having breezed through those areas in favor of things Irish…and, of course, lunch, which we had at the museum cafe. I had the vegetable quiche, which was excellent, and housemate tried the chicken korma, which is different than the American Midwestern version (surprise) and quite good. The only drawback is that this is the place that gave me the worst case of museum legs I’ve ever had in my life.

From there, we wandered over to the National Gallery, which is between Clare and Merrion streets. We went in the Clare Street entrance, which is the most modern of the four buildings melded together into one space. You tend to see that a lot in Dublin; buildings from different periods kludged together. Sometimes it works, and the National Gallery is one of them. Naturally, there’s a large collection of Irish works, but there are also lots of vastly oversized, delightfully Baroque and allegorical 17th-century works from Italy, France, Holland, and England. Marble statuary is scattered about through the entire gallery, and while i’m told there are several fine bronzes as well, I don’t recall seeing many of them. Of course, we got there relatively close to closing time, so we didn’t get as thorough a look at the collection. In the event that I’m able to return to Dublin, this is one fo the places I’ll want to revisit.

From the museum, we went on to dinner at Mona Lisa, which is just west of Trinity College. Both of us had spaghetti carbonara, which was delicious, with the pasta cooked to an exacting al dente, with just the right amount of sauce. I recommend the Trebbiano with it. For dessert, I had profiteroles with chocolate sauce, and Housemate had tiramisu; both were delicious. Finally, in order to prepare ourselves for undergraduate theater, I had an Irish coffee and Housemate had Bailey’s coffee (also both delicious).

So, form there, went on to the Samuel Beckett Theater on Trinity’s campus. for the senior class production of Phaedra (adaptedand translated from Racine’s play). If you’re not familiar with the myth, it’s very Greek and very tragic. And in my entirely biased opinion, nobody brings intensity to tragedy like undergrads. It was staged with a minimal set and modern costumes, which worked out fairly well, I think. The entire cast kept the tension high throughout the show, cranking it up a notch with each plot twist. By the time everyone was dead (oh, come on now—it’s a Greek tragedy; that’s hardly a spoiler) I could feel the tension in my jaw.

All of the trim has been painted Dover White, and the carpet is gone! Next up, flooring installation.

I’ve ranted and roared about Great Big Sea’s albums before, so it should come as no surprise that I had high expectations for Saturday’s live show at the Music Mill.

Ladies and gentlemen, I was not disappointed.

Saturday night was their last show of the tour, and they did not hold anything back, through two one-hour sets and two encores. Both the band and the sold-out crowd were bouncing up and down by the end of the night; everyone in the room was obviously having a wonderful time. Every single member of the band was rock-solid, even if one or two were a bit rough around the edges after the long haul. Each one of them still managed a lot of eye contact and interaction with the crowd. Of course, in a venue when you can come right up to the edge of the stage, it’s hardly surprising, but I was far off to one side and near the back, and couldn’t have been more involved if I were front and center.

We got songs from almost every album, as well as “Walk on the Moon,” which will be on the next album. (And I assure you, I’ll be first in line at amazon to buy it.) We had songs about pirates (as Alan said, what concert is complete without a song about a pirate), dead horses, berry-picking, and nagging wives. We had slow love songs and fast drinking songs.

I can only hope that they’ll come back to Indy when the next album comes out. If they do, that’ll be my elbow in your ribs as I cut in line for tickets.

Housemate has just finished the second coat of Pale Ivory paint on the hallway walls, and I can’t believe how much better it looks!

Next up is Dover white on the trim and doors, then solid bamboo flooring in place of the icky old carpet.

Squee!!

Mom: I have the matzoh, gefilte fish and afikomen gifts for the seder. When you know, please let me know what else I need to bring. Charoses? Matzoh balls? Parsley? Cake (fruit or crumb?)*

Me: Charoses & matzoh balls, please. Also, please help me remember to put out the cranberry sauce. Oh, wait, that’s Thanksgiving.

Mom: Are you planning to set the cranberry sauce on fire? No, wait, that’s a birthday!

Me: I thought setting the cranberry sauce on fire was Chanukah. Oh, wait, that’s setting potato pancakes on fire.

Actually, I did once set the kitchen on fire while making potato pancakes at Chanukah.

*Mom is playing Belle May Steinberg Carroca in Footlite Musicals’ current production of My Favorite Year. And for the record, the correct answer is “fruit.”

Wednesday, 3/7

Housemate and I both slept well past breakfast on Wednesday, and we ventured out of a mind to get something to eat on the way to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where we would meet our Viking Splash tour. Viking splash is listed in the Lonely Planet “Best of Dublin” guide as the city’s kookiest tour, and as enjoyable as it was, I am first compelled to mention the cafe where we had lunch.

Usually, when I’m visitng a city with a lot of good restaurants, I like to try as many as possible. Queen of Tarts is the only place in Dublin that I exempted from my “one visit per restaurant” policy. It’s directly across the street from the pedestrian entrance to Dublin Castle (more on that later), and has the quintessential European Cafe look going; tiny space with commensurately small tables, baskets of fresh fruit that double as storage and decor; mismatched vintage-look (or possible vintage) china, and a counter and display case packed full of more sweets and savories than I could count, all of which made decision-making a challenge. Lunch for me was a spinach, brie, and pine nut tart, which came with mixed greens and foccacia. Housemate had a chicken and stuffing sandwich on focaccia, also with mixed greens. If the weather had been warmer, we’d probably have gotten takeout—as did a steady stream of people—but I was glad to get out of the wind. One look at the dessert menu convinced me that we were stopping in for tea on our way back to the hotel, which is exactly what we did. I had a plum tart (which I attempted to simulate today; recipe follows) with fresh whipped cream, and housemate had the “rustic” apple tart. Both were wonderful, and I particularly liked the fact that neither one was overly sweet. The fruit took center stage, as is, I think appropriate. Note that if you’re fortunate enough to be going there, they don’t take cards, so make sure you’ve got cash.

Fortfied, we ventured back out. We had plenty of time to enjoy the walk, and we lingered in the general vicinity of Christ Church long enough to see the chapter house ruins, the medieval “gerbil tube” to the bishop’s palace, and photograph same. From there, we made our way over to St. Patrick’s cathderal, which conveniently enough, is located right next to St. Patrick’s park. Like so much of Dublin, the park has a Georgian look to it, with one of Dublin’s millenium projects along the eastern side. This particular project blends very nicely with the rest of the park, being a red brick wall with large, arched niches that hold plaques commemorating famous Irish writers and poets. We didn’t go into either Christ Church or St. Patrick’s cathedrals; generally I don’t like to treat a functioning house of worship as just another tourist attraction. The one exception I made was to go into St. MArk’s in Venice, and while it was gorgeous, I felt quite uncomfortable intruding upon those who were there for, shall we say, business rather than pleasure. We had plenty of time to lounge around the park, watching pigeons and a Spanish middle school tour group, before our tour.

The tour itself is aboard a WWII-era amphibous vehicle, and ours was led by a lovely, brilliantly red-haired young lady in Viking get-up that I suspect is far more colorful than the original. She also encouraged us to perform a Viking roar at unsuspecting passers-by, particularly those absorbed in cell-phone conversations. Lynne the Red and Jimmy the Driver started out taking us past the Marsh Library, which is said to haunted by the ghost of founder Narcissus Marsh, still looking for the note his daughter left explaining why she was out past curfew (busy getting married to her sailor boyfriend). From there, we went past Christ Church (Ireland’s oldest Cathedral) and the bishop’s palace, which is now home to Dublinia. From there, we passed a large government office complex built atop one of Dublin’s main Viking-era archeaological sites. This was apparently a very unpopular decision, because in the single year the archaeologists had with the site, they excavated over a million artifacts. From there, we crossed the Liffey and followed the road along the river to O’Connell Street, where we caught a glimpse of Daniel O’Connell and the Spire of Dublin. The Spire is one of the most expensive and least popular of Dublin’s millenium projects, and is apparently referred to as the Stiletto in the Ghetto, among other things. We crossed back into the southside at O’Connell Street, via one of the main vehicle bridge. We saw the Hugenot cemetary, which is the final resting place of over 600 people and not much bigger than my living room. I’m not sure how they all fit, but there are some questions one simply does not ask. Other sites on the tour are Merrion Square (which we went to on Saturday), Trinity College and the Bank of Ireland, which is in the building that held the Irish Parliament before 1800. We also saw Leinster House, the current home of the Irish Parliament, where according to Lynne, they make tea. (”I was going to say ‘decisions,’ but they keep changing their minds, don’t they?”) An interesting thing about Leinster House, as well as the Taoiseach’s (head of state’s; currently Bertie Ahern) residence, is that they’re simply tucked into one of the southside neighborhoods, amongst museums and libraries, and while I’m sure security is present, it’s quite unobtrusive. From the more central part of Dublin, we headed out into the Beggar’s Bush area, and into the Grand Canal Docklands. We went past Dublin’s most expensive apartments and U2’s recording studio. (According to my Lonely Planet Guide, published in 2003, the studio is “soon to be demolished,” but I expect that by now someone has gotten it declared a national cultural treasure or somesuch, because it is still standing.) Overall, I highly recommend the tour, not so much because it’s amazingly kooky (it isn’t, or at least not by my admittedly-skewed standards) but because you get to see a good bit of the city, and it doesn’t take itself seriously.

After the tour, we headed back to the hotel, stopping at Queen of Tarts for tea, and then took a long nap. Dinner was at Gasworks, which is the restaurant attached to the hotel we stayed in. The place was absolutely packed because they were having what the bartender called a “quiz night”, so they were kind enough to serve us in the much-quieter hotel lobby. Panini sandwiches seem to enjoy great popularity in Ireland, as they were on a great many menus. I decided on a roasted-vegetable-and-brie version, with a Guiness, and Housemate went totally trad with fish and chips (also very tasty).

I have completed the first draft of this year’s offense offering for the Phoenix Theater, in the event that they solicit for original scripts for their December holiday show. The name of the piece is “Seasonal Depression,” and personally, I feel much better now.

I also have an idea for next year, but I’m going to let it cook for a while before I start writing.

After a few days in Ireland, I realized that I’d been eating colcannon without really knowing what it was, so I looked it up in the cookbook that I’d bought earlier in the trip.