I saw “Ulysses” at the Abbey Theatre last night. I was seated on the stage, in and amongst the actors and action.
Leopold was more than gently tragic, and yet defiantly principled in everything he did; Stephen, a man torn between emotion and truth, slowly realising perhaps that the two were the same; and magnificent Molly: the essence – and very uncommon sense – of life, intelligence and love itself.
I fell in love myself during the evening with everything that Molly represents. The Irish couple sitting next to me even went so far as to suggest I joined her in her bed. I gladly concurred, though sadly did not have the opportunity.
A wonderful wonderful song to humanity. A touching of the dirty dirty. A glancing, and dancing, and singing, and prancing, of the very best that Dublin – and Stephen’s fiercely owned Ireland – will ever have to offer.