Hildebrand - Always Being Blind

I wasn't personally in Dublin in 1914, so forgive me future inaccuracies. Walking Dublin headed towards North Richmond Street, home of the boy narrator from Araby, I could feel the ghosts from Joyce's stories; the pictures I made in my head from "Dubliners" fit perfectly on the streets I walked. The high speed cars, buses, street lights, and modern street signs betray a modern air, but they can't quite cover up the past. The houses are bricked with brightly colored doors and windows perched open with laundry hanging out to dry.

In Araby, the little boy says North Richmond Street is blind, quiet except for the the boys school lets out. I passed this school: it's being renovated and is covered in tarps and dust. In the distance, though, Croke Park can be seen; the stadium has been used to house Gaelic games since 1884 and Joyce would have certainly been familiar with it. However, the stadium underwent a redevelopment program in the 1990s and now has a capacity of 82,300, something Joyce definitely wouldn't be accustomed to.

North Richmond Street still ends in a blind end. The houses, I imagine, don't appear much different from when Joyce was observing them. Both sides of the street seem to stare at each other with, as Joyce says, "imperturbable faces." The atmosphere is bleak and quiet, not a single car passed as I wandered the small street. Modern adjustments include a printing store, tiny European cars, and large traffic signs.