Comedian and actress Katherine Lynch welcomes you to this year's Bloomsday celebrations...
Bloomsday is simply Bohemian bowler hat heaven in our beloved Dublin.
The first Bloomsday took place way back on 16 June 1954, to mark the 50th anniversary of the day depicted in James Joyce's Ulysses. A group of Irish literary figures—John Ryan, Brian O’Nolan (Flann O'Brien), Anthony Cronin, and my sensible grand-uncle Patrick Kavanagh—set out to retrace Leopold Bloom’s journey through Dublin.
Dressed in Edwardian attire, they rode in two horse-drawn cabs, stopping at iconic locations from the novel like the Martello Tower and Davy Byrne’s pub.The day was chaotic, fuelled by lots and lots of drink, so they never finished the full route. It ended at Davy Byrne’s, when they allegedly fell out of the cart and into the pub. But it became the first of what is now an annual global literary celebration.
Growing up, the name Patrick Kavanagh was always floating around our house—not in an untouchable way, but like a family ghost at the kitchen table. He was my great-uncle, and his spirit was everywhere: in poems, in the stories on our bookshelves, and in the fields of Monaghan when we visited his sisters there. I could always hear that gruff poetic voice that turned mud and heartbreak into beauty.
My father Tom loved his poetry, and my grandmother Lucy—his sister—loved that her son-in-law took such interest. One of my first memories is of my father reciting a poem to my grandmother by the range when I was five. As a teenager, I used his collection of poems—gathered by his brother Peter—as a kind of bible for life. I would often open it at random and find some nugget of wisdom to try and apply to my own life.
They say Kavanagh wrote the truth in bare feet, and that honesty has stuck with me. He called things as they were, and in that truth, he found such beauty in the ordinary. It was probably him who drew me to performance and comedy—I was fascinated by how much power there is in simple words, crafted well. I’m still practising.
Each year I meet new faces and familiar ones—fellow Joycean fanatics, actors, musicians, academics, tourists, and the wonderfully curious—all drawn together by the mad, brilliant magic of Ulysses.
It was only later, in the ’90s, when I met John Ryan and Anthony Cronin—and all the wonderful friends I made through my dear friend, the author Christine Dwyer Hickey, and her father Dinny (who was a pal of Kavanagh’s). Christine tucked me under her laced, frilly, winged Edwardian blouse and kindly shared the joy of Bloomsday with me throughout the ’90s and beyond.
I was privileged to have spent so many Bloomsdays with Christine, Anthony Cronin and hear all the stories from literally the horses mouth and it was in those days, that I really leaned into Joyce and Bloomsday.
I thought, wandering around Dublin drinking and quoting Ulysses is not a bad idea—and what I found was Dublin at its best: this wondrous, eccentric celebration of its language, its people, and its identity. Only in Ireland would we turn a 700-page stream-of-consciousness novel into a street party, where everyone is dressed to the nines, drinking wine, and quoting Ulysses—some not entirely sure what it all means, but loving every second anyway.
Lately I've been invited to take part as a reader, and that created even more magic. Suddenly, you're not just watching Ulysses—you’re inside the book with all the other readers bringing Joyce’s wild, witty, deeply human words to life.
During lockdown, we took Bloomsday to the streets in a different way, filming at chapter locations across the city to introduce Readings and Songs and keep the spirit alive. When the world reopened, I hosted it again at Meeting House Square. I loved it, helping shape the energy, and making this wonderful book appealing to all.
Each year I meet new faces and familiar ones—fellow Joycean fanatics, actors, musicians, academics, tourists, and the wonderfully curious—all drawn together by the mad, brilliant magic of Ulysses. Some come for the literature, others for the music, the costumes, or just to be part of something utterly unique. That’s the beauty of Bloomsday: you don’t need to be a scholar to belong. It’s a celebration that welcomes everyone into the world of James Joyce, whether you’ve read every line or are just dipping your toes into Dublin’s literary soul.
For me, it’s become more than a date on the calendar—it’s a tradition, a connection to the past, and a joyful, living act of storytelling. From my great-uncle Patrick Kavanagh being part of the very first Bloomsday to my own journey from punter to performer, it’s a legacy I’m proud to carry. This year, I return to read Wandering Rocks—still delighted, still hungry for Joyce, and forever grateful to be part of it all.
Katherine Lynch will perform at Bloomsday Readings and Songs on Meeting House Square, Temple Bar, from 3 - 6pm on June 16th 2025 as part of this year's Bloomsday Festival - find out more here, and take a deep dive into RTÉ Culture's Ulysses celebrations here.
