Isolation and Discord Theme Analysis

The men in “Ivy Day in the Committee Room”—all employed by the Irish Nationalist Party—should seemingly be united by their political values. However, the story shows a disturbing disharmony among the seven colleagues, which reflects Ireland’s political discord following the untimely death of the Nationalist leader Charles Stewart Parnell. The word “silence” dominates the story, and—when the men do talk—their conversation is mostly two-faced gossip, which suggests mistrust and disrespect among them. This portrait of social isolation and petty feuding evokes the discord Joyce saw in Ireland’s political landscape. In this sense, Joyce suggests that the strength of a political movement depends on collective unity, a quality lacking from the Ireland he set out to depict.

Despite working for the same political party, the men in the story have differing political allegiances. This is clearest in the politics of Joe Hynes and Crofton, whose sympathies do not lie with the candidate they nominally support. The smooth-talking Hynes arrives in the Committee Room and immediately denigrates their candidate, Richard Tierney, as corrupt and hypocritically pro-England, which shows that he disagrees with the men who genuinely support Tierney, even though they’re technically on the same side. Furthermore, Crofton is revealed not even to be a member of the Nationalist Party—he’s a Conservative, a party that favors Ireland’s union with Britain (which is the opposite of the Nationalist independence platform that Tierney supports). Crofton is now among the Nationalists instead of the Conservatives because, when his candidate left the race, he begrudgingly chose the Nationalists, “the lesser of two evils.” Underscoring Crofton’s alienation from the candidate he’s there to support, his coworkers gossip behind his back, with John Henchy saying “he’s not worth a damn as a canvasser. He hasn’t a word to throw to a dog.” When he enters the group, Crofton is resoundingly silent; “he considered his [Nationalist] companions beneath him,” which leads him to answer others’ questions with wordless nods. Crofton’s lack of dialogue in the story (“he had nothing to say”), and Joyce’s repetition of the word “silence” in describing him, reinforces the lack of communication between men who allegedly support the same cause.

While some characters divide over party lines, others show almost no political principles at all. Although Henchy defends Parnell in conversation, he does not show much regard for political truth. He is portrayed as a salesman, pitching Tierney to voters however he can. Henchy recalls telling a Conservative that Tierney “doesn’t belong to any party, good, bad or indifferent,” laughing to his fireside company that “[t]hat’s the way to talk to ‘em.” The truth would in fact have been to declare Tierney on “the Nationalist ticket,” as O’Connor has already done for readers. Although Henchy is dishonest with voters, he has at least been out canvassing. O’Connor, on the other hand, has been by the fire in an easy chair all evening; he found the weather too cold. The only thing he does with “meditative” care is to roll his cigarettes. Tellingly, O’Connor lights his cigarettes with Tierney’s campaign flyers, which he’s being paid to distribute. He agrees with Hynes—“I think you’re right”—when pressed to support Tierney’s opponent, then reneges with a silent nod when Henchy urges him the other way. Later, when he offers a limp defense of Hynes’s character, he does so “dubiously.” If Henchy is actively slick and careless with truth, O’Connor is spineless and devoid of real opinion. As these men lack conviction and loyalty, it’s no wonder they’re all mistrustful and divided.

In the final scene, a melodramatic elegy for the dead Parnell, the men finally find common ground—but Joyce suggests that their agreement is weak at best. After Hynes recites his verse elegy for Parnell, the room erupts in applause. The men, it seems, have laid aside their differences and apathy, celebrating the spirit of a great man. However, Joyce subverts this reconciliation instantly. Before the applause, the room lay in “silence,” which suggests, perhaps, that the men were calculating their response (and that, therefore, the applause may not be genuine). Afterward, “silence” returns, suggesting that the swell of feeling is gone. Earlier, Bantam Lyons voiced distaste for Parnell, and the fact that even he claps for the poem about Parnell suggests that not all the applause was genuine. If Lyons means to project agreement with the applauding Parnellians, then the reader knows he’s not being heartfelt—but if he is merely praising their poetry, then his gesture is all the emptier. In the final line, when the anti-Parnellian Crofton is pressed to commend the poem, Joyce relates that he “said that it was a very fine piece of writing.” As with Lyons, this sounds like an agreement. But Joyce uses a sly narrative tactic to suggest otherwise: he doesn’t quote Crofton directly (as he almost always does throughout the story), but instead summarizes Crofton’s statement. This suggests that, while the room got the impression that Crofton liked the poem, it might not even be what he said. As the story’s finale, this note of insincerity and uncertainty rings loudly—it’s an anticlimax, reflecting the fractured and disingenuous environment of the Committee Room.