Monday
On Friday, I wrote that Joe Biden’s love for Irish poet Seamus Heaney reveals a man who is compassionate and interested in struggling human beings. Biden’s reported love for James Joyce’s Ulysses is harder to explain.
Part of me doesn’t believe it. Unless the Irish-American Biden chose the novel out of national pride—some regard Ulysses as the greatest work of the 20th century—the day in the life of a tortured Catholic-educated intellectual who finds a father figure in a cuckolded Jewish ad salesman doesn’t seem the kind of drama that would move the president-elect.
On second thought, however, in some ways Biden played Leopold Bloom to Barack Obama’s Stephen Daedalus, a (relatively) young man who has written of “dreams from my father.” The chemistry between Obama and Biden is not unlike the moving connection between Daedalus and Bloom, the latter (like Biden) having lost a child.
Biden’s love for Joyce’s Dubliners makes more sense to me. In his portrayal of Dubliners in their daily life, Joyce captures the nitty gritty of small lives, their successes and failures, their dreams and disillusionment. Biden has a genuine interest in the American people.
I can imagine Biden relating to Gabriel in “The Dead,” the nephew who presides over his maiden aunts’ annual dance. A bit old-fashioned, Gabriel puts on a wonderful public face, carving the goose and each year delivering a nostalgic speech honoring his aunts. Everyone looks to him to take charge:
At the moment Aunt Kate came toddling out of the supper-room, almost wringing her hands in despair.
“Where is Gabriel?” she cried. “Where on earth is Gabriel? There’s everyone waiting in there, stage to let, and nobody to carve the goose!”
“Here I am, Aunt Kate!” cried Gabriel, with sudden animation, “ready to carve a flock of geese, if necessary.”…
Gabriel took his seat boldly at the head of the table and, having looked to the edge of the carver, plunged his fork firmly into the goose. He felt quite at ease now for he was an expert carver and liked nothing better than to find himself at the head of a well-laden table.
Gabriel’s outer confidence, however, masks inner insecurities, especially his fear that he can’t feel as deeply as his wife. Does Biden ever worry, deep down, that the empathy he radiates to millions keeps him from responding as deeply as he’d like to individuals?
Given that his love of Heaney and Joyce suggest depth of soul, then Biden can’t help but have Gabriel’s doubts. Like Gabriel, however, he doesn’t let them paralyze him but pushes through. Joyce’s Dublin is a better place for having Gabriel in it, and the same can be said of Biden in America.