Showing papers in "James Joyce Quarterly in 2013"

Current JJ Checklist (121)

Abstract: Our congratulations go to the James Joyce Broadsheet on the occasion of its issue number 100 and to the Zurich James Joyce Foundation on the occasion of its thirtieth anniversary, both noted below. Thanks to this Checklist’s contributors: Sabrina Alonso, Massimo Bacigalupo, Ronan Crowley, Wilhelm Füger, K. P. S. Jochum, Nina Krajnikova, Lea Pao, Derek Pyle, Fritz Senn, Bob Spoo, and Andreas Weigel. Please send contributions to your bibliographer at W329 Pattee, Pennsylvania State University, University Park, PA 16802, or via e-mail to uxb5@ psu.edu. The Checklists are cumulated online in The James Joyce Checklist .

Blurring the Boundaries: Fourteen Great Detective Stories and Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in the Modern Library Series

Abstract: This article examines the simultaneous publication of James Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and a collection of detective stories in the Modern Library series in March 1928. The Modern Library, a uniform series of reprints sold for only 95 cents, did not make any difference between the two books. Not only did they share a similar physical format, but they were also advertised in the same periodicals, and reviewers showed no surprise at the juxtaposition of “high” and “low” culture. Drawing on extensive research in Random House archives at the Columbia Rare Book and Manuscript Library, this essay uses a book-history approach to show that the Modern Library contributed to the blurring of boundaries between modernist and popular fiction.

Vicking With the Censors: Joyce's Bold Use of the Suppressed in an Unsuppressed Finnegans Wake

Abstract: Because of its daunting linguistic ambiguity, Finnegans Wake often seems designed merely to baffle. The story’s polysemous complexity, however, may be Joyce’s most potent weapon against censorship. Insinuated throughout the indecipherable narration are sexual terms that were essentially unprintable in 1939. The highly charged diction, moreover, often proceeds to fuse with sly allusions to authors whose works were censored or banned, from Ovid to Edgar Quinet. This veiled aspect only intensifies as apparently unrelated paronomasia references entities that were also once forbidden; items like Eve’s apple, hootch, fez hats, and slot machines constantly cross the narrator’s mind. Through ingeniously subversive language, which can never be precisely pinned down, the text daringly invites—and simultaneously thwarts—its own bowdlerization.

Current JJ Checklist (122)

Abstract: We note the passing of Ekaterina Genieva, director general of the Russian State Library for Foreign Literature and one of the pioneers of Joyce studies in the Soviet Union. Thanks to this Checklist’s contributors: Walter Albrecht, Sabrina Alonso, Riccardo Cepach, Kevin Dettmar, Richard Gerber, K. P. S. Jochum, Derek Pyle, Fritz Senn, and Wim Van Mierlo. Please send contributions to your bibliographer at W329 Pattee, Pennsylvania State University, University Park, PA 16802, or via e-mail to uxb5@psu.edu. The Checklists are cumulated online in The James Joyce Checklist .

Current JJ Checklist (120)

Abstract: We thank this Checklist’s contributors: Sabrina Alonso, Richard Barlow, Michael Cunningham, Judith Harrington, K. P. S. Jochum, Friedhelm Rathjen, Fritz Senn, Bob Spoo, Jan Wawak, and Andreas Weigel. Please send contributions to your bibliographer at W329 Pattee, Pennsylvania State University, University Park, PA 16802, or via e-mail to uxb5@psu.edu. The Checklists are cumulated online in The James Joyce Checklist .

Judging Woolsey Judging Obscenity: Elitism, Aestheticism, and the Reasonable Libido in the Ulysses Customs Case

Abstract: This essay explores the legal and social challenges that federal Judge John Munro Woolsey faced in deciding the Ulysses Customs case in 1933. Woolsey’s decision and the opinion he wrote to explain it remain misunderstood today in the wake of recent critiques that have assailed him for purportedly making Ulysses into a monument of aesthetic autonomy and muting the work’s raw, salutary indecency. Woolsey’s judging was much more, however, than privileged power masquerading as urbane progressivism, indifferent to the popular will; instead, it was a flexible, creative response to social and legal realities that constrained judicial approaches to obscenity in the 1930s. This essay reexamines the procedural and substantive dimensions of the litigation, including the parties’ waiver of a jury trial, Woolsey’s controversial use of “literary assessors,” and his important rulings on prurient effect, the reasonable libido, serious literary value, and holistic context for testing obscenity. In essence, Woolsey has been faulted, unfairly, for not applying legal standards that did not exist until thirty years later, and his actual achievement in his own moment has been undervalued.

The Stephen Dedalus Diet

Abstract: Just what does Stephen Dedalus eat in Ulysses ? The question not only troubles the understanding of the novel as a kind of digestive system, even a celebration of eating, but its implications challenge realist and allegorical readings alike. This essay proposes a contrary reading of the novel as composed of anisometric eating habits and attitudes among characters who share only the need to eat, just as readers of Ulysses may all seek the nourishment of meaning but what they find has much to do with what they will and will not eat.

This Timecoloured Place: The Time-Space Binarism in the Novels of James Joyce by Agnieszka Graff (review)

Abstract: could have been on Jacobitism in the revival and could have worked towards Dubliners instead of the other way around. Chapter 3 looks in part at Joyce’s deployment of Yeats, which is very interesting. The “west” emerges here as a metaphor—as it indeed was during the period for many; when Shovlin writes that “Joyce’s attitude towards the west is . . . considerably more ambiguous than many critics have allowed” (131), the “west” encompasses any number of ideas, ideological positions, and historical events and not merely a series of places. Shovlin’s additions to the debate about what Gabriel’s journey west might encompass and to possible sources for “The Dead” are valuable. Written without jargon, and almost conversational at moments, Journey Westward adds to the growing body of extended writings centered on Dubliners and does much good work to situate Joyce in relation to the revival. Because the chapters are so highly thematized, the reader might wonder at moments whether the insistence on Dubliners’ centrality is required; the three chapters do not necessarily cohere into an overarching argument. Because the individual sections are genuinely interesting, this does not detract too much but should be noted, since it would make the text more useful to those with a strong familiarity with Joyce and would make it less accessible to a student readership.

How to Listen to "Sirens": Narrative Distraction at the Ormond Hotel

Abstract: This essay looks at how narration, listening, and distraction work in “Sirens,” an episode famously littered with sonic codes and punctuation. There is so much noise and interruption that we, like Bloom, can become distracted by the music of the text. The narrative thereby threatens to turn into an abstracted puzzle of sound and reference rather than what it actually is: the story of a man in his most painful hour. I argue that “Sirens” actually represents two episodes from the Odyssey . Its overwhelming musicality distracts us from the fact that the episode is also a rendering of Books XXI and XXII, Odysseus’s confrontation with the suitors. The famous opening lines, for instance, allude not only to the episode’s “sirens,” the barmaids, but also to the storehouse where Odysseus keeps gold, bronze, and iron. Bloom and Boylan later engage in a covert archery contest. This pull between two episodes—their “dis-traction”—is expressed in the text’s narrative technique.

Freddy, Gabriel, Gretta, Nietzsche, and Joyce's "The Dead"

Abstract: From the perspective of Friedrich Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy , Joyce’s “The Dead” takes on new meaning as a struggle between the Apollonian (educated and repressed Gabriel) and the Dionysian (drunken, laughing Freddy Malins). The Nietzschean synthesis into something akin to tragedy in the story’s enigmatic and ambiguous conclusion is enriched by the long-overlooked suggestions in the text that Gretta may have been pregnant with Michael Furey’s child during their farewell at the postlapsarian “end of the garden” in the rain.

Re-Viewing Richard: A Look at the Impact of Nostalgia and Rancor on Characterization in Exiles

Abstract: Despite the work of John MacNicholas and other diligent scholars, Exiles , Joyce’s only extant play, has been a source of embarrassment, indifference, or bewilderment for many, myself included. Reading it was, for me, excruciating, and live performances did nothing to convince me that it was little more than time wasted between the completion of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and the initiation of Ulysses . It was only when I began to study the impact of the exilic experience on Joyce’s writing that I came to see elements in the work that I had previously overlooked. The essay that appears here reflects my efforts to understand how the nostalgia and rancor that shaped Joyce’s recollections of Ireland played transformational roles in writing this play.

"Andoring the games, induring the studies, undaring the stories" (FW 368.34-35): A Report on the 2014 Dublin James Joyce Summer School, Dublin, Ireland, 6-13 July 2014

Abstract: Initiated in 1988 by Augustine Martin, the venerable conclave of Joycean devotees streaming into the capital of Irish studies convened once again last summer, under the auspices of University College Dublin, Boston College-Ireland, the National Library of Ireland, and the James Joyce Centre, Dublin. Novices had their first contact with the city while joining the veterans at registration, leaving the lodgings at UCD village to receive a first sip of “Dobbelin ayle” and a taste of the renowned Irish conviviality at Houricans pub, literally around the corner from “Steving’s grain” (FW 7.12, 550.06). The meeting inaugurated a pilgrimage of attendees through the city, following in Joyce’s footsteps, each day spending every bit of energy discovering literary landmarks and an occasional similarity to their fictionalized versions (for instance, Sweny’s in Lincoln Place, the well-known source of Bloom’s “[s]weet lemony wax”—U 5.512). The series of lectures, seminars, and evening events scheduled by the organizing committee, and forwarded by Thea Gillen’s efficient staff, captivated the participants during the whole week, keeping everybody happily busy and engaging each in fruitful discussions or pleasant social gatherings. The academic program was imbued with a highly cosmopolitan and multidisciplinary spirit, providing the opportunity to explore the Georgian Newman House and to discover with pleasure that the path leading to the old physics theater no longer culminates in that “chilly grey light that struggled through the dusty windows” (P 184), but instead in a glowing neo-gothic interior with warm canaryyellow wallpaper and light flooding in through three high-arched windows. Anne Fogarty, Director of the Summer School and of the UCD Research Centre for James Joyce Studies, inaugurated the program by discussing “The Transmission of Affects in Dubliners.” She compared the definitions of emotions and affects offered by Fredric Jameson and Teresa Brennan, focusing on the composition of human feelings, and examined the frequently contradictory interchange of body and mind experienced by Joyce’s characters. In a carefully bal-

Without Copyrights: Piracy, Publishing, and the Public Domain by Robert Spoo (review)

Abstract: M the word “copyright” to Joyce scholars, and you might inspire thoughts of legal protection for the critical and scholarly works they produce. More likely, the word will connote rightsholders’ power to set up seemingly impenetrable roadblocks to the use of works under their control. In this second case, the passage of Joyce’s works into the public domain, as their copyright expired in most European Union countries on 1 January 2012, might provoke an unequivocal answer to a New Yorker blogger’s question: “Has James Joyce Been Set Free?”1 Copyright can seem like a house either securing the work from dangers lurking outside or holding it captive inside. A fascinating legal-historical study of the American public domain in the nineteenth and early-twentieth century, Without Copyrights offers a very different view. Defining the public domain as “the common pool of works that are not protected by copyright in a given country,” Robert Spoo admits to an affection and nostalgia for its former “wild, open, lawless quality” (30, 275). His words might evoke Billy the Kid, Wyatt Earp, and other bandits and lawmen of the West, but an epithet that pervades his study, “pirate,” points more to Blackbeard and the open seas between the United States and Europe. Whether or not Spoo’s study inspires nostalgia in his readers, it will certainly make them rethink copyright, the public domain, and the impact of both on Ulysses’s publication and reception. A literature scholar turned lawyer and legal scholar, Spoo is fluent in these two worlds. Without Copyrights wears its prodigious research lightly, restricting its specialized evidence to fifty pages of endnotes from legal decisions and over twenty archive collections, as well as articles and books. The carefully and gracefully written chapters feature compelling, sometimes gripping, narratives that assume no previous familiarity with legal thinking and writing or with the specific laws. What narratives they are! To protect American writers from competing with imported works, U.S. copyright law through most of the nineteenth century created a “legal void—the legislated absence of copyrights for foreign authors” (49). Works published abroad entered the American public domain immediately upon their publication. Like Leopold Bloom “proceed[ing] energetically from the unknown to the known through the incertitude of the void” (U 17.1019-20), U.S.

The Strong Spirit: History, Politics, and Aesthetics in the Writings of James Joyce 1898-1915 by Andrew Gibson (review)

Abstract: 1 Jimi Hendrix, People, Hell, and Angels (New York: Legacy, 2013), CD-Rom. 2 In addition to this version, in 2012, the Dublin Ithys Press published a special edition of two hundred copies, of which twenty-six are lettered quartos ($1,500); 170 are numbered double-elephant sextos ($500); and four are hors commerce. Italian, Greek, and Danish editions have also been published—see James Joyce, I Gatti di Copenhagen (Milan: Giunti Editore, 2012), ΟΙ ΓΑΤΕΣ ΤΗΣ ΚΟΠΕΓΧΑΓΗΣ (Athens: Psichogios Publications, 2012), and “Københavnerkatte” (Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 2012). 3 Joyce, The Cat and the Devil, illus. Richard Erdoes (Eau Clare, Wis.: E. M. Hale, 1967). 4 See Alison Flood, “James Joyce’s Children’s Story The Cats of Copenhagen Gets its First Publication,” The Guardian (9 February 2012), . The quotations here are from an interview Flood conducted with Anastasia Herbert and representatives of the Ithys Press. 5 “James Joyce Children’s Book Sparks Feud,” BBC News (10 February 2012), . The quotations are from an interview conducted by BBC News with Herbert. 6 See Terence Killeen, “Joyce’s Children’s Story Published in Dublin to Dismay in Zürich,” The Irish Times (8 February 2012), 1. Further references to the text will be cited parenthetically in the text. 7 See Esther B. Fein, “A Lost Work by James Joyce Fuels Scholarly Debate,” The New York Times (14 October 1992), . 8 Patricia Hutchins, Ezra Pound’s Kensington: An Exploration, 1885-1913 (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1965), p. 18.

"Nobody Owns": Ulysses, Tenancy, and Property Law

Abstract: The period of Joyce’s early life is one of huge turbulence around the question of land and property law but also of unresolved tensions which do not start to relax until 1904. Between 1878 and 1904, a period running more or less from Joyce’s birth to his departure from Ireland, the question of land and property law assumed a new dimension and took on an altogether new intensity. In thinking about Joyce and property law in a British-Irish historical context, at least four crucial factors are worth keeping in mind. First, there was the historical priority of Brehon Law. Second, however, the cause of the nightmare was not the imposition of the colonizer’s alien legal system. Had English property law been comprehensively and scrupulously applied in Ireland, the political benefits would have been substantial, if not decisive. Hence, third, throughout the nineteenth and into the early-twentieth century, land law and politics were inextricable from one another. Fourth, as far as land and property law is concerned, imaginary oppositions of agrarian issues to urban ones are delusive. The Joyce of Ulysses responds to this situation in complex ways: by presenting his registrations or perceptions of a state of affairs as less strictly nationalist than nationalist-oriented; by providing a critique of nationalist responses, a skepticism as to their integrity, and a desire to get them in (comic and ironic) proportion; and by offering us, somewhere quite deep beneath the surface of Ulysses , an obscure, melancholic, socialist dream of the end of property law.

"footnotes nonpareil": Ulysses, Authority, Error, and Annotation

Abstract: A quick glance at Amazon United Kingdom shows more than thirty “editions” of Ulysses currently available for purchase: Hans Walter Gabler’s is among them (though not the most easily procured in the U.K.), but so too are the 1922 text (annotated or not), numerous reprints of virtually every printing between the first and Gabler’s (most failing to specify which version is being offered, some “annotated,” many not), an Easy “Ulysses” (“the ruthless editing of a 900-page [sic] book down to the length of an average novel”), a “Ulysses”: Novel, 1922 “Rearrange[d] & Annotated,” and a Ulysses “Remastered by Robert Gogan.” Also on offer are two printings of the edition famously “specially revised at the author’s request by Stuart Gilbert,” first issued in 1932 by the Odyssey Press, an ad hoc imprint of the Albatross Press formed specifically to publish Ulysses.2 One of these, published by Wordsworth Editions Limited in 2010, states its imprimatur: “by kind permission of Stephen Joyce and the estate of James Joyce.” That, with the expiration of copyright, such permission is no longer required, of course, accounts for this last year’s proliferation. The second Odyssey Press offering comes from Sam Slote; his Alma Classics publication presents a modified reprint of the 1939 (fourth) printing of the Odyssey Press edition, densely annotated.3 Neither the Wordsworth edition, nor the text under review, reprints in its copyright page the full notice, cited for years as justification for the claim that the 1932 text was “the most accurate text of Ulysses” (JJI 665): “The present edition may be regarded as the definitive standard edition, as it has been specially revised, at the author’s request, by Stuart Gilbert.”4 The statement was present in both the oneand two-volume first printings (1932 and 1933), and thereafter REVIEW ESSAY

Literal darkness: "Finnegans wake" and the limits of print

Abstract: This essay focuses on the role played by the medium of print in Finnegans Wake . Drawing on John Bishop’s influential reading of the Wake as Joyce’s “book of the dark,” I suggest that the work’s multi-lingual puns and portmanteaux—along with its sporadic typographical play—highlight the role of its “dark print” in the work’s mediation. My argument revolves around the discovery and exploration of the fragmented letter and also makes detours into the lengthy discussions of the kind of readerly acrobatics required by the work’s extreme linguistic performance. In doing so, it traces the Wake ’s own awareness of its printed status and explores how the sensory attention, which it draws to its own physical materiality, opens up a series of reconciliations between the conflicting polarities—eye versus ear, space versus time, Shaun versus Shem—that drive so much of the work’s dynamics. As the “dark print” of the Wake works to break down these oppositions, it also comes to index their more fundamental continuity in terms of the physical limits with which embodiment as such is necessarily bound.

The Prestige of the Law: Revisiting Obscenity Law and Judge Woolsey's Ulysses Decision

Abstract: Judge John Woolsey’s famous 1933 U.S. District Court decision declared Ulysses not obscene, which legalized the novel’s importation into the United States and paved the way for Random House’s 1934 edition. Important as “U.S. v. One Book Called ‘Ulysses’” was, none of the principles Woolsey articulated were new. A deeper understanding of Woolsey’s decision and its importance must restore its larger contexts, and this essay considers the decision’s unusual features—its sparse use of a rich case history, its rhetorical flourishes, its outsize stature—through a detailed consideration of Judge Woolsey himself. Several unexamined documents in archives and in private hands help to clarify our heretofore hazy picture of Woolsey, and a clearer image suggests that his decision relies not upon the standard authority of case law but upon the self-evident assertion of cultural value, or what we might call prestige. What makes Judge Woolsey’s literary bent both compelling and “dangerous” (as Judge Learned Hand described it) is that it highlights how legal authority, particularly regarding obscenity, often amounts to a form of prestige.

Winnegans Fake: Aus dem Spätwerk by James Joyce (review)

Abstract: the other pleasures of the book. Hein’s instincts rightly direct him toward early-twentieth-century conflicts over the social roles and cultural potential of women and the way in which their sexuality is bound up in those disputes, but his analysis of Joyce’s character does not approach her complexity or that of current theoretical models from feminism or gender studies. The fault is not an inability to read Joyce’s prose but rather a failure to keep the narrative thread of his argument alive throughout the book and to investigate the intricacies of Issy’s characterization.

How Old Is Gertrude MacDowell

Abstract: T seems to be some uncertainty as to how old Gertrude “Gerty” MacDowell is in Ulysses. A straightforward reading of the “Nausicaa” episode should tell us that she is a teenager: “As for undies they were Gerty’s chief care and who that knows the fluttering hopes and fears of sweet seventeen (though Gerty would never see seventeen again) can find it in his heart to blame her?” (U 13.171-73). In Don Gifford and Robert J. Seidman’s “Ulysses” Annotated, however, she is referred to as a woman of twenty-two.1 They allude to her relationship with Reggy Wylie as “a twenty-two-year-old woman’s daydreams of romance with a sixteen-year-old boy” (6). Similar views regarding Gerty’s age can be found in other writings as well. For instance, on the Modernism Lab at Yale University website, she is introduced as “a single girl in her early twenties,”2 and in an article in the Washington University Law Review, dealing with the obscenity case against the publication of “Episode XIII (Continued)” in The Little Review, she is twenty-one.3 On the other hand, early commentaries on Gerty indicate that she is a teenager. In James Joyce’s “Ulysses,” Stuart Gilbert refers to Reggy Wylie as “a boy of [Gerty’s] own age,” and, according to Gifford and Seidman, he is sixteen years old (6).4 In James Joyce and the Making of “Ulysses,” Frank Budgen also refers to Bloom as being a man “twenty years the senior of Gerty, the maid.”5 Since Bloom is thirty-eight (U 17.454), that would make her eighteen. Considering that both books were written with Joyce’s help, it is likely that the author himself thought of Gerty as a teenager.6 While it is true that Joyce generally remained silent about other people’s interpretations of Ulysses, he did speak if he thought obvious mistakes were being made (JJII 601n). So then, how old is Gerty exactly? Despite the seeming confusion, the question is actually not difficult. But perhaps more pertinent is whether this is a matter worth thinking about at all. Since little space has been devoted to the issue in scholarship and since confusion has persisted for many years, many may consider the query trivial. Be that as it may, this note will attempt to show that Gerty’s age is, in fact, significant for the narrative of Ulysses and deserves more careful consideration. When we examine Ulysses for information on Gerty, it is clear that the confusion about her age essentially stems from the following pas-

Mourning Joyce, Touching Responsibility: The Body, the Book, and the Ghost

Abstract: Presented as an unreliable ficto-critical memoir, this essay inconclusively examines the theoretical relationship between reading, mourning, touching, and responsibility as experienced by the author when confronted with a first edition of Joyce’s Ulysses and as the aftermath of this chance encounter unfolds. Drawing on Jacques Derrida’s work on mourning and its impossibility, I reinterpret the distance between the reader and the page as both an act of mourning and a touching poetic symbol of a responsibility to read faithfully before finally bearing witness to the transfiguration of Joyce’s body into the book, facing the revelation of a revenant Joyce, ontologically uncertain and still haunting this uneasy, untimely reading.

'Pro bono publico': urban space in "Cyclops"

Abstract: This essay examines the ways in which legislation around alcohol consumption in late-nineteenth- and early-twentieth-century Ireland was part of a concerted reorganization of public space in colonial Dublin. Focusing on “Cyclops,” the study examines Joyce’s attentiveness to the ways in which changes in the design or administration of public space register deeper political and cultural tensions in the Dublin that he portrays. Spatial and cultural boundaries become intertwined in “Cyclops,” and the episode explores the complicated relationship between space and forms of political allegiance and identity.

"not a propagandist for the better treatment of minorities": The Richard Ellmann-Louis Hyman Correspondence

Abstract: This article introduces and analyzes a series of now archived letters exchanged between Richard Ellmann and Louis Hyman, an Irish-born educator, private scholar, and author of The Jews of Ireland: From Earliest Times to the Year 1910 Having first contacted Ellmann in 1961 to inquire about the biographer’s sources for Dublin models for Bloom, Hyman later became more animated in a series of exchanges in 1966 after discovering Joyce’s friendship in Trieste with Moses Dlugacz, the model for the eponymous Zionist pork butcher in Ulysses The letters relate Hyman’s enthusiasm toward this figure as a source for the novel’s thematic use of Zionism in Bloom’s Jewish consciousness, as well as Ellmann’s cautionary hesitancy toward the same The piece argues that, on a broad level, the letters represent two opposing sensibilities within the Jewish intellectual world of the mid-century, and so form a prime example of how readers of Ulysses often project personal politics onto their interpretations of controversial Jewish issues in the novel The essay asserts that Ellmann’s adult Jewish identity played into how he shaped these concerns in the original and revised editions of the biography and demonstrates how his conclusions were influenced in the revision by his dialogue with Hyman To aid in this argument, the article offers biographical research on both figures’ Jewish backgrounds and careers as scholars and also reviews Ellmann’s sources in his quest to learn about Joyce’s contact with Jews in Dublin, Trieste, and Zurich Exploring what the letters imply about the ethno-religious identities of their authors allows an entrance into how Ellmann’s Joyce both expanded, yet limited, our grasp of Ulysses as a historically significant Irish-Jewish novel

Fennigen de Shouling Ye (Finnegans Wake) by James Joyce (review)

Abstract: bills, but actually to see him darting out of the house late, sweating in the daylight, struggling for breath as he rushes up stairs, missing his ride, and jumping in a rowboat in order to give a lesson to Captain Dehan—then one really gets a sense of how demoralizing it would be to make such “a journey for thirty bloody pence” (101). Joyce’s life, moving constantly between cities and countries, affected by multiple wars, and interconnected with astonishing webs of people, can be hard to picture figuratively. Zapico shows it to us literally. Towards the end of the book, in a full-page illustration of Joyce at a book-release party, Zapico writes, “[A]ccompanied by music and Swiss wine, Joyce brought his last book to its conclusion, and embarked on the final stage of his life. In the midst of darkness and gloom, this celebrator of life and inventor of jokes imposed his comic vision over the sadness and misery of the times” (211). In James Joyce: Portrait of a Dubliner, Zapico imposes his comic vision over Joyce’s life, and the result is charming and thoroughly worthwhile.

James Joyce: Portrait of a Dubliner by Alfonso Zapico (review)

Abstract: 1 See Martin Buber, I and Thou (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1937). 2 The “Modernist Intimacies” conference at the University of Sussex in May 2013 is just one example. Christopher DeVault names Janine Utell’s James Joyce and the Revolt of Love (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010) as his clear scholarly counterpart. Her work considers the ethical problem of adultery in terms of alterity and moves away from what DeVault calls “the traditional dismissals of love in Joyce’s works,” paving the way for necessary amorous analyses of Joyce’s writing (p. 4).

A portrait of the artist as a literary giant: thirty years of Joyce scholarship in China

Abstract: This paper presents “a portrait of the artist” as a literary giant, based on the thirty years of Joyce scholarship in China, with the focus on translations and criticism of his fiction. Joyce’s works have received a diversity of competing Chinese translations, which, in turn, have influenced his reception and criticism, as well as more general translation theories in China. In the last thirty years, there have been continuous outpourings of monographs, articles, and dissertations on Joyce in China. The progress of these publications not only follows significant national and cultural events from the early 1980s to the present but also reflects the changing trends of ideology, politics, and aesthetics in the country. By reviewing the reception of Joyce in a relatively heterogeneous cultural environment, this essay critically examines the development of Chinese scholars’ academic interest in this legendary literary figure since the 1980s.

Oameni din Dublin (Dubliners) by James Joyce, and: Portret al Artistului la Tinerete (A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man) by James Joyce (review)

Abstract: T first Romanian translations of Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, both by Frida Papadache, appeared during a period of relative liberalization and cultural openness (19641971), ushered in just before the death of the country’s Stalinist ruler, Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej.1 Romania had to wait almost half a century, until after the loosening of copyright restrictions on Joyce’s works, for two new translations of Joyce’s early fiction to see the light of day: Dubliners, translated by Radu Paraschivescu, and A Portrait, translated by Antoaneta Ralian, both published in 2012. If the first translation of Dubliners had given its Romanian readers some reliable historical indication of Joyce’s language in spite of the difficult conditions of critical isolation under which a Romanian translator labored then, Paraschivescu’s approach resolutely opts to recast Joyce in a different, more contemporary stylistic vein. With some seventy translations to his credit, Paraschivescu is certainly no novice: in 2010, he even declared to a journalist from Adevărul (a national daily) that he would consider taking on more texts, only if no other translator could be found, for his collection at the Humanitas Press.2 His fiction testifies to his keen interest in garnering gems from everyday demotic language. But this is precisely where my unease with the new rendering of Joyce’s collection of short stories starts. Arguably, graphic idioms come very spontaneously to Paraschivescu, and his range of colloquialisms undoubtedly stands him in good stead: in “Grace,” Joyce’s “country bumpkins” (D 160) plausibly become “mocofani de la ţară” (175, “boors from the countryside”3); “ignorant bostoons” (D 160) become “fârţângăi”4 (175, “boisterous lads,” a phrase that drops the “ignorant” qualifier); and “thundering big country fellows, omadhauns” (D 61) become “plăvanii ăia de la ţară” (176, “those great hulks from the countryside”; plăvan is a term usually meaning oxen with yellowish hair and, thus, is comparably odd). Similarly, in “Ivy Day in the Committee Room,” Joyce’s “spondulics” (D 122) are turned into “piţulele” (137), which adheres both to the historical register and quaintness of the idiom.5 Paraschivescu’s overall slant towards a colloquialized idiom presumably more in tune with his potential readership’s linguistic background and expectations, howJames Joyce Quarterly 50.3 2013

Molly, Mr. Stanhope, and Hester: A Genetic Reading of a Love Triangle in Ulysses

Abstract: This essay explores the moments in the creative process when Joyce established certain narrative elements about Molly’s closest (and, as far as readers know, only) female friend in Gibraltar, Hester Stanhope, as well as the narrative consequences of emphasizing Mr. Stanhope’s attraction to the young Molly. From a genetic critical perspective, it studies the gradual, complex, and sometimes elusive ways in which Joyce wove the narratological patterns that serve to construct his characters. Such a mode of analysis reveals the strategies through which specialist textual work directly intersects with other critical readings. The ways in which Joyce developed the Stanhopes are paradigmatic of the construction and function of many of the book’s minor players. He did not create the secondary and tertiary characters for their own sakes but rather to illuminate various aspects of Leopold and Molly Bloom and their love story. In this case, the most basic role the Stanhopes play in Ulysses is as the background of Molly’s reflections about her sexuality as a young woman in Gibraltar in 1886 and in Dublin in 1904.

Joyce's Nietzschean Ethics by Sam Slote (review)

Abstract: Editorial, 1999-2003). 2 The brief translation by Samuel Beckett and Alfred Péron was intended for the magazine Bifur, edited by George Ribemont-Dessaignes, but Joyce objected to their version. The original proof pages are held in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University, Gen MS 112, Box 5, Folder 103—see Megan M. Quigley, “Justice for the ‘Illstarred Punster’: Samuel Beckett and Alfred Péron’s Revisions of ‘Anna Lyvia Pluratself,’” JJQ, 41 (Spring 2004), 484 n4, and . 3 Joyce, “Anna Livia Plurabelle,” trans. Beckett, Péron, Yvan Goll, Eugène Jolas, Paul L. Léon, Adrienne Monnier, and Philippe Soupault, La Nouvelle Revue Française, 19 (1 May 1931), 633-46. According to Quigley, “‘mymyserable’ . . . is a penciled correction on the proof pages of the manuscript” in the Beinecke Library (p. 484 n4). 4 See Friedhelm Rathjen, Winnegans Fake: aus dem Spätwerk (Südwesthörn: Edition ReJoyce, 2012). 5 Joyce, “Anna Livia Plurabelle,” trans. Georg Goyert, Die Fähre, 1 (1946), 337-40. 6 Joyce, Anna Livia Plurabelle (“Finnegans Wake,” I, viii), trans. Francisco García Tortosa et al. (Madrid: Cátedra, 1992). 7 Cyril Connolly, review of Anna Livia Plurabelle, Life and Letters (2 April 1929), 273-90, and quoted in A. Nicholas Fargnoli, ed., James Joyce: A Literary Reference (New York: Carroll and Graf, 2003), p. 313. 8 See Fritz Senn, Inductive Scrutinies: Focus on Joyce, ed. Christine O’Neill (Dublin: Lilliput Press, 1995), p. 120, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner,” “Kubla Khan,” and “Christabel,” ed. Tuley Francis Hutchinson (New York: Macmillan Publishers, 1899), p. 35.