The pinned flower in Martha's letter does not simply make
Bloom think of a song about a woman who "lost the pin of
her drawers." It evokes a street scene he once witnessed
and sends local accents echoing through his head: "Flat Dublin
voices bawled in his head. Those two sluts that night in the
Coombe, linked together in the rain." The "Flat" quality of
some Dublin speech is not referenced often in Joyce's works,
and it has not been discussed much by scholars. But there are
some hints to work with.
Gifford remarks without attribution that "A lower-class
Dublin accent is frequently described as "flat," such as
"cometty" for committee. He is referring to a moment
in the story "A Mother" when Mr. Fitzpatrick evasively tells
Mrs. Kearney that he will bring her demand "before the
Committee" and she is tempted to mock his accent: "And who is
the Cometty, pray?" Terence Brown annotates this
exchange by observing that "Mrs Kearney snobbishly finds Mr
Fitzpatrick's 'flat', Dublin Hiberno-Irish pronunciation
unacceptable. As [Richard] Wall points out this is the only
occasion in Dubliners that Joyce attempts to represent
Hiberno-English pronunciation phonetically." Slote, citing the
same Dubliners example, helpfully adds an insight
gleaned from Bernard Share's Dublinese: Know What I Mean?
(2007): "The flat Dublin accent is believed to have
originated in the Liberties,
a poor and working-class neighbourhood" (71).
None of this, of course, adds any examples to the one from Dubliners
or provides any description of what "flat" means. But people
in the Liberties have always spoken a distinctive kind of
Hiberno-English. Its difference from standard middle-class
Dublin English owes to the longer persistence of Irish speaking in that part
of the city. In a blog post on The Liberty
(www.theliberty.ie) Stephen Conaty writes, "As the city’s
native Irish population came under increasing British
influence from the 1600s, many English settlers wrote of how
Gaelic remained the commonly spoken language on the streets.
Even in the years after Cromwell, city councillors would
frequently receive complaints regarding the level of Irish
spoken. Furthermore, a census from that period shows Gaelic as
the native tongue of the majority of modern-day Kilmainham and
of roughly half the wider Dublin region. As time progressed,
British presence and administration in the area strengthened,
leading to a steep decline in the number of Dubliners using
Irish as their first language. The Liberties seemed to
somewhat buck the trend however, and was recognised by Dublin
Castle as one of only two Dublin regions in which the language
remained strong up to the 1830s."
This long endurance of Irish-language speaking in
southwestern Dublin (Gaelic may have still been spoken in
parts of the Liberties as late as the early 1900s, and it is
coming back strong in the 21st century) resulted in a local
English that sounds different and employs different
expressions. Conaty notes that "In Irish in the Liberties
published in 1985, Maírín Mooney describes the presence of the
language in her locality of Pimlico, with many of the older
generation of the area speaking only as Gaeilge. The extent to
which Irish words made their way into the English-vernacular
during that period is astounding. 'There was great rí rá all
together', 'She’s a grand girseach' and 'He’s a right amadán'
are but examples of the commonly heard phrases documented by
Mooney."