Following in the Footsteps of Stoker in Dublin

In a 300-year-old library in Ireland, I sat in Bram Stoker’s chair.

Walking up to Marsh’s Library in Dublin is the exact experience I wanted but never imagined when following in the footsteps of the author of Dracula. A heavy iron gate stood open, leading me through an arch in the grey stone wall. Places like this can be intimidating, but multiple signs along the way assured me it was open to the public. When I stepped inside I couldn’t help but gasp. I stood at one end of a pathway through row after row of dark wood bookcases rising toward the white vaulted ceiling, each with a ladder to reach the highest shelves.

And on those shelves: endless hardcover spines in dark reds, blues, browns, greens, and black. Hundreds of years of use had worn many of the titles indecipherable. Through the doorway at the end of the room, I could see more was ahead.

Marsh’s was the first public library in Ireland. Public libraries were so rare worldwide at that time, even bigger cities like London didn’t have any yet. It was the early 1700s and Narcissus Marsh, one-time Provost of Trinity College, felt the school’s library was poorly managed and the city’s bookshops poorly stocked. He opened his own library adjacent to St. Patrick’s Cathedral (by that time he had been archbishop) with his and other collectors’ books. The earliest book in the current catalog – which contains over 40,000 titles – was published in 1280 CE. English and Latin make up most of the texts, though dozens of languages are represented

Marsh’s library does not lend its books. Given the rarity of many titles, patrons have to consult them on-site. Theft was once a problem and for a time, patrons had to sit in locked cages while reading.

Bram Stoker, a student of nearby Trinity College, visited in 1866 and 1867. This was 30 years before he published Dracula, so there’s probably no direct connection between Marsh’s collections and the vampire story that continues to influence pop culture today. The library has an online exhibit based on records of books he consulted.

However, I was briefly under the impression that Stoker had conducted research there for his writing, so I sought the location of books related to the undead, witchcraft, and the occult. The bookcases are labeled with a simple yet mysterious alpha-numeric system. I had to ask three people before an employee directed me to several rows of religious books. Given their unsavory subject matter, she explained, the topics I requested were on the topmost shelves, out of sight. That’s when I decided I must come back in the future with an appointment to actually open some books. 

How I would love to conduct research in the very spot where Stoker sat (and James Joyce, among other notables). But modern-day patrons use a different, and surely more secure, space than those in Stoker’s day. The old reading room of the 1860s is now mostly for looks. However, a pair of unassuming chairs remain at a large table in that room. They didn’t look much different than what my grandparents would have owned: a simple design made from wood, with round seats and a rounded back and armrests. These chairs, an employee assured me, were the very ones used by the likes of Bram Stoker. So of course I sat down. I tried to channel some lingering literary genius, but it felt much as it looked – like any other chair. Maybe that’s why anyone who pays the modest entrance fee can sit there. I was delighted nonetheless and more resolved to return someday to complete the experience by studying those near-ancient texts.