Not much happens in “Two Gallants.” Most of the story centers on Lenehan and Corley walking around Dublin, laughing and talking. And even the minor things that do happen—Corley meets his romantic interest, perhaps has sex with her, and then gets her to commit a petty crime—are left unseen. The story instead follows Lenehan as he wanders around morosely, idly talks with some friends, and eats some peas. Both because so little happens and because the story deliberately avoids showing what does happen, “Two Gallants” has a sense, throughout, of aimlessness and pointless action. The plot is as meandering as the two men’s walking route through the city; as seemingly pointless as the fact that the men’s path ends up being just a big circle. That very aimlessness and pointlessness, as well as all that walking, though, is the point of the story, as it expresses the two men’s—and Ireland’s— lack of belonging and stability.
By following Lenehan on his walk through London, rather than Corley’s rendezvous with the maid, “Two Gallants” focuses on the impact of inaction, paralysis, and lack of connection. After Corley departs with the maid, Lenehan thinks about “the problem of how he could pass the hours till he met Corley again.” He comes up with nothing other than to just keep walking. Lenehan has nowhere to go, nothing to do. Instead of walking toward a destination, Lenehan walks to kill time. Thus, walking is a symbol of restlessness and lack of belonging in the story, rather than a signal of purpose. While lacking purpose, though, Lenehan’s walking is still tiring. In the rare moments of stillness in the story, he thinks that “he was glad that he could rest from all his walking.” The implication is that it is not just the physical exertion of walking, but also the activity’s purposelessness, that tires Lenehan out. When Lenehan longs to settle down with a job, a wife, and financial security, he is also metaphorically longing to rest from his walk, to have someplace to go and to care about. Even when Lenehan does have reason to stop walking, the outcome is less than fulfilling. For instance, when Lenehan stops for a bit to talk with some friends, they seem distant, distracted: “They looked vacantly after some figures in the crowd and sometimes made a critical remark.” Even while resting, there is an element of walking’s transience that lurks in Lenehan’s interactions: instead of feeling connected, Lenehan and his friends are disconnected, as if they are still, metaphorically, on the move.
The characters disconnection from each other and from their society is further communicated by the way that they are constantly playing roles rather than being themselves. Joyce’s story begins with Corley bringing a long “monologue” to a close. This choice of words at once makes clear that Corley and Lenehan are not truly interacting. Corley is, rather, performing a speech that he thinks makes him look impressive. Lenehan, meanwhile, reacts to the story with theatrics of his own, and is constantly glancing at Corley’s face to make sure he is making the right impression. While the story makes clear that Lenehan is adept at such action—he is “armed with a vast stock of stories, limericks and riddles” such that he can worm his way into various social groups—he later acknowledges to himself that his “tongue was tired” from talking all day. Though he performs in order to “belong,” the task itself is exhausting. Later, he thinks wearily that “he knew he would have to speak a great deal, to invent and amuse, and his brain and throat were too dry for such a task.” Lenehan’s exhaustion makes clear the cost of living in a society in which social interaction is a matter of performance rather than genuine connection, in which no one belongs because no one is themselves.
Always acting out a role, always working to fit in social groups by figuring out the right thing to say or way to say it, Lenehan makes his way through the city but does not truly belong there. While the story implies that, in Ireland, such discontent and lack of belonging is endemic—that everyone is forced to put on a show to get by—“Two Gallants” also asserts the importance of seemingly mundane interactions. Walking, running into distracted friends, feeling like one has to play a role to belong—these are everyday sensations that are often not included in traditional stories. So even as “Two Gallants” embodies a feeling of discontent and pointlessness, the story also asserts that everyday boredom and lack of purpose is worth telling a story about, thus elevating the everyday gnawing of discontent to the level of the story-worthy.
Restlessness, Lack of Belonging, and Discontentedness ThemeTracker
Restlessness, Lack of Belonging, and Discontentedness Quotes in Two Gallants
—That takes the solitary, unique, and, if I may so call it, recherché biscuit
Most people considered Lenehan a leech but, in spite of this reputation, his adroitness and eloquence had always prevented his friends from forming any general policy against him.
Lenehan’s gaze was fixed on the large moon circled with a double halo. He watched earnestly the passing of the grey web of twilight across its face.
—Well...tell me, Corley, I suppose you’ll be able to pull it off all right, eh?
He knew that he would have to speak a great deal, to invent and amuse, and his brain and throat were too dry for such a task. The problem of how he could pass the hours till he met Corley again troubled him a little. He could think of no way of passing them but to keep on walking.
He was tired of knocking about, of pulling the devil by the tail, of shifts and intrigues. He would be thirty-one in November. Would he never get a good job? Would he never get a home of his own? [...] Experience had embittered his heart against the world.
His friends talked very little. They looked vacantly after some figures in the crowd and sometimes made a critical remark.
He knew Corley would fail; he knew it was no go.