Two Gallants

John Banville walks you through "Two Gallants," the most ironic title in James Joyce's Dubliners, since Corley is a thug and Lenehan a leech. Corley, a policeman's son and perhaps a police spy, has a neck so thick he turns from the waist; he thinks he's a ladies' man. Lenehan is 32 pretending to be 24, in plimsolls and cheap clothes, and the marathon walk from Rutland Square across the city ends for him at a plate of peas with pepper and vinegar, which he thinks a wonderful repast.

The turn is what Corley boasts of: skivvies are the best, because a servant won't expect much. Banville points out that Joyce eloped in 1904 with Nora Barnacle, a chambermaid at Finn's Hotel, and would have heard about that life from her. Lenehan, he argues, is the book's most pathetic figure because he has no illusions, while nearly everyone else in it is deluded. You still can't feel sorry for him. Two pathetic losers, and a pair of them in it.