Postcards from the Edge

The great writer is worshipped in Dublin, says Mary Kenny, but he preferred to remain British

James Joyce has become Ireland’s Shakespeare – cited at every junction, relentlessly merchandised and ‘branded’.

And now there’s a proposal to bring his remains back from Zurich, where he died in 1941, to be reburied in Dublin as a national icon.

But wait! James Joyce was always a British citizen: he rejected choosing an Irish passport in 1930, insisting on keeping his British status.

There’s a pathetic correspondence in the Irish state archives relating to his widow Nora Joyce’s being very broke after JJ’S death. The wife of the Irish envoy in Switzerland, Mrs Con Curran, was minded to send Mrs Joyce £5, but it was considered logistically problematic. Moreover, it was pointed out that Nora was a British passport-holder – with the presumption the UK should support her.

Nora was indeed in dire straits: her son was unemployed, her daughter was in a psychiatric asylum, and a Quaker lady who had helped her out couldn’t get any funds transmitted.

Think of the millions generated for the Joyce Estate since, especially for his masterpiece, Ulysses. The classic was banned in Britain (and America), but never in Ireland, because nobody ever submitted it to the draconian Irish censorship board – which might suggest that few people actually read it.

Still, even if he was a Brit, the Joyce industry flourishes in Dublin. You can even do a pub crawl around the Ulysses route. Ireland now loves James Joyce; it was a love unrequited.

So Brexit didn’t happen on 31st October. But I was already committed to crossing the Channel on 1st November to Calais, where, paradoxically, they were indeed celebrating – the holiday of All Saints’ Day, known in France as Le Toussaint.

Anyway, I love crossing the Channel, and if I ever take up smuggling, postBrexit, I know what I’ll bring back by the shedload: coffee. My favourite coffee (250g) costs €1.97 (£1.70) in a small Calais supermarket; a similar packet at my local Sainsbury’s costs between £3.80 and £4.

Brexit or no Brexit, it’s noticeable how frequently the Union Flag flutters along Calaisienne routes, and not just for commercial reasons. Richelieu Park in central Calais has an imposing double statue of Charles de Gaulle walking alongside Winston Churchill, by the sculptor Patrick Berthaud, and erected in 2017. The pair are gazing at a ‘fragmented France’ in wartime, while we are reminded that ‘3,000 English soldiers and 800 French soldiers were sacrificed in order to enable Calais to hold out for … three days’, during Operation Dynamo (the Dunkirk evacuation). That Anglo-french wartime partnership is not forgotten.

True, de Gaulle is portrayed as being much taller than Churchill: but then, the general wasn’t dubbed ‘Le Grand Charles’ for nothing.

It used to be the case, an oldie pal of mine remarked, that nearly all cultural events were centred on London.

But now, she said, there is more art and culture all over the country. This galvanised me to visit, at last, Kent’s leading cultural location, the Turner Contemporary gallery in Margate, associated with Tracey Emin, the Margatian artist who opened it in 2011.

This year, the gallery has been hosting the four candidates for the famed Turner Prize in art. After the announcement of the winner on 3rd December, the exhibition continues until 12th January.

Say what you like about contemporary art; it does draw people into art galleries. The Margate Turner is especially well patronised by young folk. People seem to be looking for some form of spiritual uplift, or perhaps contemporary meaning, in new forms of art.

I’m glad this handsome gallery flourishes in Margate – a somewhat run-down coastal town. It gives people outside London the chance to ponder on artistic endeavours of our time.

And Margate’s gallery has a superb innovation that every gallery and museum should copy: folding stools hanging on a wall, which you can take from room to room, so you can SIT DOWN as you view.

For fear of offending intersex persons, or other ‘woke’ elements, the phrase ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’ is gradually facing prohibition in the UK.

It’s already been banned by Transport for London and is no longer to be heard at the National Theatre or the Old Vic.

So it’s reassuring to note that the French form of collective address – ‘ Mesdames et messieurs’ – remains solidly in place.

Any woman, be she dotty old bag lady or grand vizier of the International Monetary Fund, is ‘Madame’. Courtesy forms of address are egalitarian. By contrast, in England any woman over 60 is ‘sweetheart’ or ‘my lovely’, which is annoyingly patronising. The ‘woke’ police don’t seem to consider age discrimination. Older people, especially women, are often less respected, and that’s why courtesy forms of address need to be retained.