Dublin people have a proud tradition of thinking up creative new names for city landmarks. From "the Tomb of the Unknown Gurrier" to "Bidet Mulligan" the talent has often been used for subversive purposes, to undermine the credibility of official additions to the city's monument collection.
And it works. The "bowl of light" which inspired the firs-tmentioned description was quickly consigned to history (via the Liffey); while the much-abused female figure in the O'Connell Street "jacuzzi" hangs on grimly, in apparent fear that the plug could be pulled at any moment. But the reports this week that Dublin's best-known hotel was to be rechristened by its overseas owners caused indignation in a city that already has trouble recognising itself.
The management of the Shelbourne was quickly on the defensive, saying it had "no intention" of dropping the famous name. What was happening was a slight "rebranding" process: continuing an operation, well advanced since the group bought the hotel in 1996, to promote it abroad as Le Meridien Shelbourne.
As part of a new identity "currently being rolled out worldwide," a statement said, all the group's hotels would feature the title Le Meridien followed by their locations, "except where there is a historical connection".
The Shelbourne was both "historical and revered" and would therefore retain its name alongside the corporate tag, in common with other landmark hotels owned by the group, such as the Eden in Rome, the Ritz in Madrid and the Bristol in Warsaw.
The new combination would apply to "all collateral items", such as the hotel brochure, print advertisements and so on, management said. "But the hotel will always continue to be called simply `The Shelbourne' by a vast proportion of the Irish and UK population."
This last point is undoubtedly true, and yet many of its admirers will fear collateral damage from this corporate tinkering with a landmark which has looked out on St Stephen's Green for two turbulent centuries.
There is no recorded precedent for such a tactic; but Dubliners may yet have to think up a nickname for the rebranding operation (suggestions on a postcard, please), just to be on the safe side.
In fact, although the Shelbourne is older than Catholic Emancipation, it is only in relatively recent times that it found a place in the hearts of Ireland's majority community, according to Michael O'Sullivan, who cowrote a history of the hotel to mark its 175th anniversary in 1999.
Long beloved of the hunting fraternity and a favourite escape from England - for those with money - during the war years, it was seen as a left-over from the "Irish Raj", says Mr O'Sullivan.
Then Ireland's great 20th-century moderniser stormed the bastion and everything changed: "It was only when Sean Lemass started frequenting it in the late 1950s that it began to feature in mainstream Irish life."
And yet the hotel had already played a central, and at times calming, role in the events which shaped the State. It was garrisoned by British troops in 1916 when Michael Mallin and Countess Markievicz took the militarily dubious step of trying to defend St Stephen's Green, completely overlooked as it is by tall buildings.
When the shooting started the Shelbourne's afternoon tea was transferred from the lounge to the writing room for safety. Another account - possibly apocryphal, says Mr O'Sullivan - has it that the insurgents called a truce to allow the hotel waiters into the Green to feed the ducks.
Six years later the Shelbourne played host to those who, chaired by Michael Collins, drafted the new Free State's first constitution. In another rebranding operation, the room has been known ever since as the Constitution Room.
Jimmy Dixon joined the hotel staff in 1946, as a new era dawned for the Shelbourne and the world, and the quintessential Dublin hotel enjoyed an improved profile, thanks to the patronage of the rich and glamorous.
Visitors included Princess Grace and Prince Rainier, Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, the Kennedys during their 1963 tour and, in more recent times, Julia Roberts, Pierce Brosnan and the late John Kennedy jnr, who stayed there in 1997.
It was in 1997, too, that Mr Dixon finally retired after 51 years, a majority of them as head concierge. He still recalls Princess Grace as his favourite guest - "She was a regular visitor and she was lovely" - and retains a concierge's discretion about any misbehaviour by the stars who passed through over the years.
Now he visits the hotel to get his hair cut - "You might mention Jonathan's barber shop. He does a great job" - and is appalled at the prospect of the Shelbourne ever losing its name.
"I wouldn't call it disastrous, exactly, but I'd be very sad to see it changed. It's the most distinguished address in Ireland. And apart from anything, someone coming to Dublin looking for the Meridien wouldn't know where to find it. But I understand what they're trying to do, and as long as the Shelbourne is part of the name, I suppose it'll be all right."
The man who established the business in 1824, Martin Bourke, tinkered with the brand even then. Deciding his own name wasn't grand enough, he chose one with historical connections to the area, Shelburne, and added a vowel to round it off.
And all these years on there is still an element of pragmatism in the name issue. The general manager, Mr Jean Ricoux, emphasises that it is not merely respect for tradition that will preserve the Shelbourne label, adding: "One of the hotel's greatest assets is its name."
Michael O'Sullivan echoes the point: "I suppose the fear people have is that so much of old Dublin has been taken from them - Jammet's, the Russell, the Royal Hibernian and so on, and the Shelbourne is seen as the last bastion. But the name is a vital part of the goodwill the business has built up, and there's no chance of it being lost."
