In the early 1980s when I lived on Lombard Street West in Dublin (where Leopold and Molly lived in fiction in the first years of their marriage) I emerged on Bloomsday to head to my summer job as a bus conductress. Two neighbours - one a journalist, the other an Elvis impersonator in full Vegas regalia - were grilling kidneys in the street. They slapped one between the halves of a soft, sweet, yellow bread roll and handed it to me. Not unpleasant. Rather surreal.
That sounds very surreal Valerie. Great article JP. I didn't realize there's such emphasis on food in Joyce's work. A lot of various kinds of meat dishes, probably of the cheaper variety in those times, no doubt 🤔
In the early 1980s when I lived on Lombard Street West in Dublin (where Leopold and Molly lived in fiction in the first years of their marriage) I emerged on Bloomsday to head to my summer job as a bus conductress. Two neighbours - one a journalist, the other an Elvis impersonator in full Vegas regalia - were grilling kidneys in the street. They slapped one between the halves of a soft, sweet, yellow bread roll and handed it to me. Not unpleasant. Rather surreal.
Brilliant
That sounds very surreal Valerie. Great article JP. I didn't realize there's such emphasis on food in Joyce's work. A lot of various kinds of meat dishes, probably of the cheaper variety in those times, no doubt 🤔