Joyce, James - Ulysses (Ed. Gabler) (Vintage, 1993)

JAMES JOYCE ULYSSES EDITED BY HANS WALTER GABLER WITH WOLFHARD STEPPE AND CLAUS MELCHIOR AFTERWORD BY MICHAEL GRODEN V

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JAMES JOYCE

ULYSSES EDITED BY HANS WALTER GABLER WITH WOLFHARD STEPPE AND CLAUS MELCHIOR AFTERWORD BY MICHAEL GRODEN

Vintage Books A Division ofRandom House, Inc. New York

FIRST VINTAGE BOOKS EDITION, June 1986 Copyright© 1986 by Random House, Inc. Reading text copyright© 1984 by The Trustees of the Estate of}ames Joyce Preface copyright © 1986 by Richard EHmann Foreword copyright© 1986 by Hans Walter Gabler Afterword copyright© 1993 by Michael Groden All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Random House, Inc., New York. Hardcover edition published in Great Britain by Bodley Head Ltd., London and in the United States by Random House, Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Joyce, James, 1882-1941. Ulysses: the corrected text. Bibliography: p . . II. Steppe, Wolfhard. III. Melchior, Claus. IV. Title. I. Gabler, Hans Walter, 1938823'.912 85-28279 ISBN 0-394-74312-1 (pbk.) PR6019.09U4 1986 Manufactured in the United States of America

30 29 28 27 26 25 24 23 22

PREVIOUS EDITIONS OF

ULYSSES SHAKESPEARE AND COMPANY, PARIS

February 19.22: 1,ooo numbered copies EGOIST PRESS, LONDON

October 1922: 2,ooo numbered copies, of which ;oo copies were detained by the New York Post 0./foe AHthorities EGOIST PRESS, LONDON

january I92J: JOO numbered copies, of which 499 copies were seized by the Customs Authorities, Folkestone SHAKESPEARE AND COMPANY, PARIS

january 1924: unlimited edition (reset 1926) THE ODYSSEY PRESS, HAMBURG, PARIS, BOLOGNA

December 19]2: unlimited edition RANDOM HOUSE, NEW YORK

January I9J4: unlimited edition LIMITED EDITIONS CLUB, NEW YORK

October I9JJ.' I,JOO copies, illustrated and si81ed by Henri Matisse THE BODLEY HEAD, LONDON

October 19;6: I,ooo numbered copies, of which 100 are si81ed by the author THE BODLEY HEAD, LONDON

September I9J7: first unlimited edition THE BODLEY HEAD, LONDON

April 1960: reset edition RANDOM HOUSE, NEW YORK

1961: reset edition PENGUIN BOOKS, LONDON

1968: unlimited paperback edition FRANKLIN LIBRARY, NEW YORK Between 1976 und 1979 three illustrated

editions were issued in special bindings GARLAND PUBLISHING, NEW YORK

June 1984: critical and synoptic edition

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This edition foilows exacti.J the line divisions of the critical edition (Garland, New York, 1184). Line nNmbers are provided to facilitate reference. The Jines of each episode are nNmbered separate!J. The episode

nt~mber

is given at

the foot of each page.

CONTENTS Preface by Richard El/mann Foreword by Hans Walter Gabler A Note on the Text by Hans Walter Gabler

.

IX XV

XIX

ULYSSES r:

-

G·.

\

.

Telemachus

3

Nestor

2.0

Proteus

31

Calypso

45

Lotus Eaters

ss

Hades

7l

Aeolus Lestrygonians

96 Il4

Scylla and Charybdis

ISI

Wandering Rocks

180

Sirens

liO

Cyclops

l40

Nausicaa

l84

Oxen of the Sun

314

Circe

350 501

Eumaeus Ithaca Penelope

544 6o8

Afterword by Michael Groden

645

PREFACE Joyce's theme in Ulysses was simple. He invoked the most elaborate means to present it. Like other great writers, he sensed that the methods available to him in previous literature were insufficient, and he determined to outreach them. The narrator figure who often in earlier novels chaperones the reader round the action disappears. In Ulysses his place is taken by a series of narrators, usually undependable, who emerge and disappear without being identified. Sometimes the narrative is impersonal, and in one episode, as if to mock this method by excess, a camera-like eye roves at random through Dublin, focusing on seemingly unrelated patches of urban life. In its subject-matter Joyce's book invades our privacy. Experiences once considered too intimate for literature, such as going to the toilet, appear as a matter of course. The negotiation with language which Joyce carried on all his life assumes many forms in this book. In one episode the stages in the ontogeny of a foetus are recapitulated in the stages of development of English prose style. In another, words come as close to turning into musical notes as words can. The characters, too, are reconceived: they offer new blends of heroism and mock-heroism. Their thoughts are disclosed in internal monologues that register the slightest waverings of consciousness or of the world that surrounds consciousness. The author intervenes only with stage directions, not necessarily sympathetic. The passions and counter-passions of the characters' unconscious minds once take external form in a vaudeville version that, while retaining ludicrousness, manages yet to fall somewhere between horror and pathos. A whole galaxy of new devices and stances and verbal antics, extravagant, derisive, savage, rollicking, tender, and lyrical, is held in Joyce's ironic dominion. Behind all the manifold disguises can be felt the pervasive presence of an author who never in the book acknowledges his existence. Since Ulysses is as difficult as it is entertaining, readers have often felt that it puts them on their mettle. The decipherment of obscurities has gone on apace. But certain tangles have escaped notice because readers assume that they have missed something, not that Joyce has nodded. For some time now we have known that neither was to blame. The text was faulty. Given its unprecedented idiosyncracy, mistakes were inevitable.

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Joyce was too scrupulous a writer to tolerate even minor flaws. Soon after Sylvia Beach published the first edition of U!Jsses under the imprint of Shakespeare and Company, on February 2, 1922, he compiled a list of errata. It was by no means complete. Further corrections were made from time to time in subsequent printings. Then in 1932 his friend Stuart Gilbert, freshly aware of more errors because he had just helped with a translation of the book into French, amended the text for the Odyssey Press edition published in Hamburg. Finally, in 1936 Joyce reread the book before it was published in London by The Bodley Head. After that year there is a history of publishers with varying degrees of conscientiousness trying to correct misprints, and quite often adding more. A famous instance is the final dot at the end of the penultimate chapter. This was assumed to be a flyspeck and dropped, when in fact it was the obscure yet indispensable answer to the precise and final question, 'Where?' Joyce gave specific instructions to the printer to enlarge the dot rather than to drop it. The situation has been confused enough to require expert assistance. Hans Walter Gabler, a professor at the University of Munich, trained in the rigorous textual-editing school of the University of Virginia, conceived the idea of a new edition. This would not merely touch up the text of 1922, but would return to manuscript evidence, typescripts, and proofs. His rationale for this procedure was fairly complex. Typist and typesetter had tended to conventionalize Joyce's mannered punctuation and spelling, and Joyce, on the lookout for large issues, did not always notice details of this kind. It appears also that he rarely had an earlier version beside him when he was correcting a later one. Relying on memory, he sometimes sanctioned the inadvertent dropping of phrases; at other times, not recalling the earlier version exactly but sensing something was missing, he devised a circumlocutory substitute. Add to these propensities his defective eyesight and frequent haste. With so many complaints, one wonders that such an author ever wrote such a book. Fortunately he plugged on. What Gabler aims at is an ideal text, such as Joyce would have constructed in ideal conditions. The new edition relies heavily upon the evidence of existing manuscripts; where these have been lost, it attempts to deduce from other versions what the lost documents would have contained. Happily Professor Gabler is conservative in his construction of this ideal text. Few of the five thousand and more changes he has introduced will excite great controversy. Most of them involve what textual scholars call 'accidentals,' matters of punctuation or spelling. No one will belittle the importance of punctuation in prose that is so carefully wrought and close to poetry as Joyce's, but these changes are quiet rather than earthshaking. Admirers of the book will wish to have the admirable new edition, but need not expect to find it an unfamiliar work. U !Jsses has been given a commendably high polish and some of its small perfections have been recovered.

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The substantive changes, though less frequent, are often obvious improvements. Among those that reviewers have enumerated the following examples are notable. In the old editions, Bloom, as he looks in the window of a tea merchant, feels the heat: So warm. His right hand once more slowly went over again: choice blend, made of the finest Ceylon brands.

This makes no sense. The new edition recovers some lost words: So warm. His right hand once more slowly went over his brow and hair. Then he put on his hat again, relieved: and read again: choice blend ...

Another perplexity in the old version comes in this passage: Ask them a question they ask you another. Good idea if you're in a cart.

We now learn it should have read: Ask them a question they ask you another. Good idea if you're stuck. Gain time. But then you're in a cart.

Similarly, old editions read, inscrutably, Smells on all sides, bunched together. Each person too.

when what Joyce wrote was: Smells on all sides bunched together. Each street different smell. Each person too.

As Stephen walks along Sandymount strand, in the earlier edition, Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath.

The new edition shows that Joyce intended a more elaborate fusion of water and fire: Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a midden of man's ashes.

Bloom, resting after his exertions inspired by Gerty MacDowell on the sea shore, sleepily links fragments of happenings and imaginings: heave under embon senorita young eyes Mulvey plump years dreams return

when Joyce intended a richer associative cluster, heave under embon senorita young eyes Mulvey plump hubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return

It appears that the famous telegram from Simon Dedalus to Stephen did not read when delivered to him in Paris, 'Mother dying come home father,' but 'Nother dying come home father.' Hence it was, as Stephen recalls, a 'curiosity to show.' The typesetters could not believe their eyes in this instance, nor in another when Bella Cohen's fan asks, 'Have you forgotten me?' and is answered, 'Nes. Yo.' They changed it to 'Yes. No.' And by printing, 'Cheese digests all but itself. Mighty cheese,' they lost Bloom's pun, 'Mity cheese.'

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For purposes of interpretation, the most significant of the many small changes in Gabler"s text has to do with the question that Stephen puts to his mother at the climax of the brothel scene, itself the climax of the novel. Stephen is appalled by his mother's ghost, but like Ulysses he seeks information from her. His mother says, 'You sang that song to me. Love's bitter mystery.' Stephen responds 'eagerly,' as the stage direction says, 'Tell me the word, mother, if you know now. The word known to all men.' She fails to provide it. This passage has been much interpreted. Most readers have supposed that the word known to all men must be love, though one critic maintains that it is death, and another that it is synteresis; the latter sounds like the one word unknown to all men. Professor Gabler has been able to settle this matter by recovering a passage left out of the scene that takes place in the National Library. Whether Joyce omitted it deliberately or not is still a matter of conjecture and debate. Gabler postulates an eyeskip from one ellipsis to another, leading to the omission of several lines-the longest omission in the book. These lines read in manuscript: Do you know what you are talking about? Love, yes. Word known to all men. Amor vero aliq11id alieNi bo1111111 v11/t 1111de et ea q11ae conc11piscim11s ...

The Latin conjoins two phrases in Thomas Aquinas's Summa contra gentiles. Aquinas is distinguishing between love, which as he says in the first six words, 'genuinely wishes another's good,' and, in the next five, a selfish desire to secure our own pleasure 'on account of which we desire these things,' meaning lovelessly and for our own good, not another's. In Joyce's play Exiles Richard explains love to the sceptical Robert as meaning 'to wish someone well.' In accepting this view Stephen Dedalus is following his master Dante, who has Virgil say, in Canto XVII of the Purgatorio-that canto in which the meaning of purgatory is set forth-'Neither Creator nor creature, my son, was ever without love ... and this you know' (Singleton translation). Now that the word known to all men is established as love, Stephen's question to his mother's ghost can be seen to connect with the hope his living mother expressed at the end of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, that outside Ireland he will learn what the heart is and what it feels. It connects also with Leopold Bloom, who in an equally tense moment in Barney Kiernan's pub declares, 'But it's no use ... Force, hatred, history, all that. That's not life for men and women, insult and hatred. And everybody knows that it's the very opposite of that that is really life.' 'What?' he is asked. 'Love,' Bloom is forced to say, and adds in embarrassment, 'I mean the opposite of hatred.' He drops the subject and leaves. That simple statement of his is immediately mocked by those left behind. The citizen comments, 'A new apostle to the gentiles ... Universal love.' John Wyse Power offers a weak defence: 'Well ... Isn't that what we're told. Love your neighbour.' The citizen, not wanting to be caught in impiety, changes his tack

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from mocking love to mocking Bloom: 'That chap? ... Beggar my neighbour is his motto. Love, moya! He's a nice pattern of a Romeo and Juliet.' At this point one of two narrators in this episode, who has scattered syrup intermittently during it, takes up the love theme: 'Love loves to love love ... You love a certain person. And this person loves that other person because everybody loves somebody but God loves everybody.' Does this twaddle invalidate Bloom's remark? Some have said so, but we may find the mockery more qualified if we remember that it parodies not only Bloom but Joyce's master, Dante, and Dante's master, Thomas Aquinas. (Aquinas declares, in the S11mma theologica, that 'God is love and loves all things.') It is the kind of parody that protects seriousness by immediately going away from intensity. Love cannot be discussed without peril, but Bloom has nobly named it. The larger implications of Ulysses follow from the accord of Bloom and Stephen about love. Both men are against the tyranny of Church and State, and the tyranny of jingoism-tyrannies that make history a nightmare from which Bloom, like Stephen, is trying to awake. What they are for is also explicit. If we consider the book as a whole, the theme of love will be seen to pervade it. 'Love's bitter mystery,' quoted repeatedly from Yeats's poem 'Who goes with Fergus?', is something Stephen remembers having sung to his mother on her deathbed. It is something that Buck Mulligan, though he is the first to quote the poem, cannot understand, being himself the spirit that always denies. It is alien also to the experience of the womanizer Blazes Boylan. But Bloom does understand it, and so does Molly Bloom, and both cherish moments of affection from their lives together as crucial points from which to judge later events. The nature of love has to be more intimately anatomized, subjected to attacks of various kinds. On the sea shore Gerty MacDowell claims soulful love, yet her physical urges make their sly presence felt. The body pretends to be soul but isn't. In the following episode in the maternity hospital, the medical students scorn love and deal only with the intromission of male into female parts. The soul pretends to be body but isn't. In the brothel scene Stephen defies the forces of hatred, violence and history in the form of the British soldiers, his mother's threats of hellfire and Old Gummy Granny's insistence that he lose his life for Ireland. Bloom similarly opposes the British soldiers, the sadistic nun and the Irish police, as well as the sexual brutality of the brothel. He does so partly out of concern for Stephen-comradely and paternal love being among the forms that love takes. At the end of the brothel episode Bloom confirms Stephen's theory that artistic creation is like natural creation, being dependent upon an act of love in the mental womb of the artist, when he imaginatively evokes the figure of his dead son Rudy, not misshapen as he was when he died at eleven days, but as he might have been at eleven years. Finally, in the last episode of the book, Molly Bloom, after some equivocation between her physical longing for Boylan and her thoughts of Bloom, comes down firmly on the side of Bloom and of

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their old feelings for each other. She proves by her discrimination that love is a blend of mind and body. Joyce is of course wary of stating so distinctly as Virgil does to Dante in The Divine Comedy his conception of love as the omnipresent force in the universe. As a young man he had the greatest difficulty in telling Nora Barnacle that he loved her, and Molly Bloom, on the subject of Bloom's declaration of love during their courtship, remembers, 'I had the devils own job to get it out of him.' But allowing for the obliquity necessary to preserve the novel from didacticism or sentimentality, we perceive that the word known to the whole book is love in its various forms, sexual, parental, filial, brotherly, and by extension social. It is so glossed by Stephen, Bloom, and Molly. At the end the characters, discombobulated in the brothel, return to their habitual identities as if like Kant they had weathered Hume's scepticism. U!Jsses revolts against history as hatred and violence, and speaks in its most intense moments of their opposite. It does so with the keenest sense of how love can degenerate into dreamy creaminess or into brutishness, can claim to be all soul or all body, when only in the union of both can it truly exist. Like other comedies, U!Jsses ends in a vision of reconciliation rather than of sundering. Affection between human beings, however transitory, however qualified, is the closest we can come to paradise. That it loses its force does not invalidate it. Dante says that Adam and Eve's paradise lasted only six hours, and Proust reminds us that the only true paradise is the one we have lost. But the word known to all men has been defined and affirmed, regardless of whether or not it is subject to diminution. It has been said that Molly Bloom's thoughts may not end. But Joyce has put a fullstop to them. The fullstop comes just at the moment when her memories culminate in a practical demonstration of the nature of love which bears out what Stephen and Bloom have said more abstractly. Another critical suggestion has been that Joyce never finished U!Jsses, only abandoned it, on the grounds that he was revising it up to the last moment. But many writers stop writing at deadlines, and we do not say that their books are unfinished. Joyce finished his book in the sense of regarding his work as done and in another sense as well. Because Molly Bloom countersigns with the rhythm of finality what Stephen and Bloom have said about the word known to all men, U!Jsses is one of the most concluded books ever written.

Richard Eilmann

FOREWORD

James Joyce first conceived of U!Jsses as a tale to be added to Dubliners. The short story was never written. Yet the idea implied in the title was not abandoned. Latent for the seven years from I907 to I9I4 during which A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man was written, it reemerged as the conception for a novel. Joyce took another seven years to write it. On 19 October 1911 he announced with relief that it was finished, though he continued to correct and revise proofs until the end of January I911. Nevertheless, an efficient printer and a dedicated publisher-Maurice Darantiere, master printer of Dijon, and Sylvia Beach, American owner of the Paris bookshop Shakespeare and Co-managed to achieve the planned publication date. They presented to the author two copies of U!Jsses bound in the Greek colours on 1 February 1911, James Joyce's fortieth birthday. The earliest extant manuscripts for U!Jsses-following initial sketches and drafts written during the first three years of planning and composition that have not been preserved-are fair copies of the opening chapters, together with a penultimate draft of the third ('Proteus') episode. They date from late 1917. From this time onwards, the novel's growth is comprehensively documented. The composition proceeded episode by episode. A few fragmentary drafts survive. The complete chapter manuscripts that we still possess are usually the fair copies written out at each juncture in the composition. Fair copies were never made of episodes 10, 17 and 18 ('Wandering Rocks', 'Ithaca' and 'Penelope'), which remain in their last drafts. Spanning a period of four years- I 917 to 1911-the eighteen chapter autographs form the collection known today as the 'Rosenbach Manuscript' of U!Jsses. Joyce had a typescript prepared of each episode just finished, from which it could be typeset and printed. The typists were a series of amateurs recruited over the same four-year span in Zurich, Trieste and Paris. Joyce provided them with either the chapter fair copies (or late drafts) or final working manuscripts, now lost, from which the corresponding fair copies also derive. If the latter, some time apparently elapsed between the making of fair copies and the typing. For the chapters concerned-episodes 5-9, I 1 and q-14 ('Lotus Eaters' to 'Scylla and Charybdis', 'Sirens', 'Nausicaa' and 'Oxen of the Sun')-the typescripts give a mainly revised text most readily explicable on the assumption that the final working manuscripts were gone

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over after the fair copies had been made from them. The assumption is essentially proved by the reciprocal circumstance that the fair copies at times revise the text as documented in the typescripts. Clearly Joyce revised as he made fair copies. He generally transferred the revisions back to the final working manuscripts, whence they reached the chapter typescripts. But occasionally he failed to do so, so that some revisions have remained unique to the fair copies, from which the text did not further develop. Yet the fact that some revisions are recorded only in a document outside the text's main line of descent may be considered accidental. Since it was the act of making fair copies that gave the impulse to revise which carried forward into the last revision of the final working manuscripts, the whole process of revision was in truth continuous. Hence, all recoverable changes it occasioned belong to the stage of the text's development that the documents comprise, and thus ultimately to a validly revised text of U!Jsses. This has been recognised for this edited text, which for the first time incorporates revisions from the fair copies of the episodes in question. Each chapter typescript was delivered in a top copy and at least two carbons. All three copies were usually slightly revised as the typists returned them; often two would also be corrected with some care, while the third was laid aside, revised but uncorrected. For episodes I to I4, this procedure had textual consequences. The two fully marked copies were sent to Ezra Pound in London, who helped Joyce to get U!Jsses serialised. One became the printer's copy for the American serialisation in The Little Review, which began in March I 9 I 8 and ended with the final intervention of the New York censors in late summer I92o. The other, intended for Joyce's benefactress Harriet Weaver, was in part used to set up the fragmentary English serialisation in The Egoist. The third copy was never meant to be more, it seems, than a spare record. Yet when, in the spring of I92I, neither of the fully marked typescripts was retrievable as printer's copy for Maurice Darantiere, the third copy had to meet the emergency. Joyce heavily overlaid it with a second round of revisions. But, at a distance of up to four years, he recaptured only a fraction of the corrections that it had still needed. The serialisations, therefore, though they are derivative, and hence technically 'unauthorised', as well as full of misprints, nevertheless reflect the original marking of the unretrieved typescripts. Where all typescript copies are lost, as they are for episodes 1-3 and s ('Telemachus' to 'Proteus' and 'Lotus Eaters'), the latter half of episode 4 ('Calypso') and the opening of episode 6 ('Hades'), the serialisations alone bear witness to the corrected and early revised state of the chapter typescripts. Throughout episodes 1 to I4, they confirm the early revisions and add to the corrections evident from Darantiere's printer's copy and the text for the book edition as first set up. Occasionally, moreover, they reveal revisions-such as the preposition 'on' for 'by' in the novel's second sentence: 'A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air'-that were not made in the third typescript copy. These revisions, missing in the printer's copy, did not appear in the book text, but are now properly restored.

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Finally, on successive sets of proofs, which have all been preserved-sometimes as many as nine or ten sets for a given 16-page signature-Joyce further extensively revised the novel for book publication. Through all the changes and additions to typescripts and proofs-including comparatively few revisions now recovered from the serialisations and from the fair copies of some chapters- he expanded the text by a good third over the state represented in the collective autograph of the 'Rosenbach Manuscript'. He was borne on a crest of creative activity to within days of publication. Yet once the book was out, Joyce did not further revise Ulysses. Nor, although intensely conscious of the printer's errors remaining in the first edition, did he contribute more than sporadically and fragmentarily to the efforts of others-e.g., Sylvia Beach, Harriet Weaver, and later Stuart Gilbert-to weed them out. He helped to compile the Errata which were listed in the 2nd and 4th impressions of the first edition and were mainly corrected in the second edition of 192.6. But no subsequent editions during Joyce's lifetime, save the I 9 37 trade reprint from corrected plates of the I 9 36 first limited English edition, reveal discernible traces of the author's hand in their textual changes. While correcting some of the obvious errors from the first edition, these subsequent editions invariably each introduce a complement of misprints of their own. The first edition of I 92.2., then, is Ulysses as Joyce allowed it to go before the public. As a work of literature and as an artifact of the printer's trade, it is of historic importance. Yet, as Joyce himself was the first to be a ware, the text it carries is corrupt. Joyce's helpers, as well as many a conscientious later proofreader in the course of the book's publishing history, attempted, on the whole unsuccessfully, to mend it at the surface. For the critical edition of 1984 we chose a different approach, endeavouring to attack the corruption at the roots. The deeper faults of the text as published originated throughout the pre-publication transmission from drafts to fair copies to typescripts to print. The rich array of surviving documents that record the work's development made it possible to catch the text before these corruptions occurred and to rebuild Uiysses as Joyce wrote it. In the critical edition, this process is reflected in a two-fold presentation. The core of that edition is an edited synoptic analysis of the growth of the text through all stages of composition and revision from the fair copies or final working drafts to the first edition. The synopsis represents an innovative method of displaying a text as it constituted itself in the process of writing. Jointly with a conventional scholarly apparatus, it records the documentary evidence and explains and justifies all editorial decisions. It is also a critically relevant text of Ulysses in its own right. Its final extrapolation is a reading text which in the critical edition accompanies the synopsis, but which in the present edition is set forth by itself, to stand on its own merits. A new original, text established from the acts of writing as recorded in the documents through which the novel developed, this reading text for Ulysses is thus, as nearly as editorial skill and critical understanding have

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been able to render it, a non-corrupted counterpart to the first edition of 1922. Yet it should be understood that it is an edited, and not a definitive text. No text written or edited can be wholly divorced from the processes of writing and epspoonfed. ]t51 A man spitting back on his plate: '~halfmasticated11 gristle: lfqgums:oBitten off more than he can chew. Am I like that? See ourselves as others see us. Hungry man is an (51 r:i angry man. Working tooth and jaw. Don't! 0! A bone! That last pagan king of Ireland Cormac in the schoolpoem choked himself at Sletty southward of the Boyne. Wonder what he0 was eating. "Something galoptious." Saint Patrick converted him to Christianity. Couldn't swallow it all however.11 A

A

The final working draft for 'Lestrygonians' is lost, so the earliest extant document is the fair copy on the Rosenbach Manuscript. The original text of this passage reads there, 'Squatted on high stools by the bar, hats shoved back, at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, chewing gobfuls of sloppy food,

their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. A man with a napkin tucked round him spooned gurgling soup down his gullet. A man spitting back on his plate: gristle: no teeth to chew it. Chump chop he has. Sad booser's eyes.' Subsequent revisions and additions changed and augmented the text, with letters B, C, and D indicating, respectively, Joyce's revisions to the lost final working draft as indicated by the typed text on the extant typescript, the frrst round of revisions to the typescript, and the second round of typescript revisions. (Letters in parentheses indicate reconstructed text on documents that have not survived.) The numbers indicate the revisions on each subsequent setting in proof. Full brackets show Joyce's deletions or changes, as in the revision of the manuscript's 'spooned' to 'shovelled' in the second round of typescript revisions (l.xs). Carets indicate additions within a single stage, such as Joyce's addition of 'infant's' between 'a' and 'napkin' on the manuscript (II. 14-15) or of 'Something galoptious.' as an addition-to-an-addition on the first set of proofs (l.2.3). When combined with angle brackets, carets show a revision, as when Joyce revised 'chewing' to 'wolfing' on the manuscript itself (11. 11-12.). The synoptic presentation of the continuous manuscript text is thus an assemblage of inclusion: Joyce's deleted and superseded readings, as well as those that remain in Ulysses, are all part of it. The superscript circles in the synopsis point to the footnotes (not reproduced here), where the editor has recorded his editorial emendations to the continuous manuscript text. For example, at 1. 14, he emended the manuscript's 'a' to 'an' preceding 'infant's napkin' on the basis of his conjecture of Joyce's activity on the lost final working draft, the text on the surviving typescript providing the evidence. The edited text differs from all earlier editions of Ulysses in one place: the word 'gums,' with the subsequent colon (1. 17 of the synopsis and 1. 66o of the reading text), is restored to the text for the first time here. The presence or absence of 'gums' might seem like a minor matter, but it is indicative of all the decisions involved in editing Ulysses. The editor admitted the word into the continuous manuscript text, and it became part of the edited text, on the basis of its appearance in the serialized version of 'Lestrygonians' in the Little Review; he argues that its appearance there is evidence that Joyce added the word onto a lost typescript page. The word's appearance here is consistent with Gabler's procedures. In a review of the edition, Jerome J. McGann made the important observation that 'gums' is correct here but that an edition that follows other principles would be equally correct without the word. This word can stand for the many that appear in Gabler's edition, often for the first time in printed versions of Ulysses, because of his editorial principles and the consistent application of the procedures that follow from those principles. Several examples can indicate how the editor arrived at particular readings and also how other editions might read differently. First, on the opening page of this edition, Buck Mulligan calls 'out' to Stephen (1.6) and blesses the 'land' (l.xo), whereas in earlier editions he called 'up' and blessed the 'country.' In both cases, the editor follows the Rosenbach Manuscript (which here was the typist's copy) and reasons from a bibliographic analysis of the transmission text that the

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typed 'up' and 'country' were unauthorized departures from Joyce's text. In the first case, he additionally sunnises that the typist was looking ahead to 'Come up, Kinch!' in the following line. Likewise, in this edition the telegram that Stephen Dedalus recalls in 'Proteus' reads, 'Nother dying come home father.' (3.199), whereas earlier editions show the first word as 'Mother,' more correct but failing to image the curiosity of the telegram's orthographic error. The editor follows Joyce's inscription of 'Nother' on the Rosenbach Manuscript (again the typist's copy), which Joyce insists on once more in his revisions to the first set of proofs, and rejects the reconstructed typed text on the lost typescript and the 'correction' to 'Mother' entered in a hand other than Joyce's on the fifth and final set of proofs. The best known passage in t~is edition that is not part of any previous printed edition of Ulysses is the so-called 'love' passage in 'Scylla and Charybdis.' In the middle of his discussion of Shakespeare, Stephen asks, '-Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added, another image?' and then thinks, 'Do you know what you are talking about? Love, yes. Word known to all men.

Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus ... ' (9.427-3 I). The passage is in the Rosenbach Manuscript; the final working draft used by the typist is lost. Gabler reasons that the working draft did not differ from the surviving fair copy at this point and that the typist skipped from one ellipsis at the end of an underlined passage indicating italics in the line before Stephen's question (the line ends 'L 'art d'etre grandp ... .') to a similar nearby ellipsis after another underlined passage (Stephen's Latin thought ending with 'concupiscimus'), thus omitting Stephen's question and subsequent thought. In each case, and in the case of 'gums' as well, the editor's justification for his choices was textual and bibliographical, not critical; none of these examples presented a problematic or ambiguous textual situation. It is important to note, though, that an edition prepared under other assumptions (for example, one privileging the transmitted text over the written one) might in each case choose the reading that this edition rejects. These few details are part of the large system that makes up any editing project. The full system includes not only the editorial assumptions and procedures that are visible in all the particular readings but also responses to broader questions about the nature of literary works and their texts, the relationship of the author to the work, the role of the editor, and the nature of authority in an edition. In being a text-based, rather than an author-based, edition; in its use of genetic editing theories and methods; and in its synoptic presentation, this edition of Ulysses offers an alternative to dominant AngloAmerican methods of editing that questions and challenges the accepted paradigms. As Gabler has acknowledged, the edition can be discomforting. Along similar lines, Jerome McGann in his review claimed that the edition 'raises all the central questions that have brought such a fruitful crisis to literary work in the postmodern period' and suggested that it should be 'a required object of study for every scholar working in English literature.' As an object of study, Gabler's work-his assumptions and his procedures-can be discussed and debated, but, as Vicki Mahaffey has noted, the controversy that erupted over the

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edition deflected the kind of questioning that McGann envisioned. Specific details were discussed apan from their relationship to the editor's basic assumptions and methods as a whole. More important, as Mahaffey argues, many of the most widely publicized attacks are based on premises about textual editing that the general reading public takes for granted, so that when a critic proves that Gabler has violated these guidelines, his editorial competence is implicitly or explicitly called into question. It takes a reasonably specialized reader to realize that the weakness of such arguments, which seem logically convincing on their own tenns, is at the level of the premise, since Gabler does not share many of the premises on which the critique is based. Gabler's loudest and most persistent critic, John Kidd, has since 1988 steadily and relentlessly attacked the edition. With a great deal of rhetorical flurry and a few oft-repeated examples, Kidd captured a great deal of attention. But all his pages of supposed analysis, and the sixty pages of tables and charts of Gabler's alleged errors and inconsistencies in his 'Inquiry' into the edition, managed finally to demonstrate only two errors--mistranscriptions of the names 'Buller' at 5.560 and 'Thrift' at I o. I 25 g-and to point to one reading that resulted from the editor's inconsistency in following his edition's own stated rules of procedure. The passage in question~iscussed in Gabler's 'Note on the Text'-is at 16.I804-5: 'was not quite the same as the usual handsome blackguard type they unquestionably had an insatiable hankering after' should be 'was not quite the sasne as the usual blackguard type they unquestionably had an indubitable hankering after.' In this instance, the editor's diminished attention to the rule of the invariant context and his mistaking of an authorial revision based on a transmission error for a mere correction led him astray. The items on Kidd's long lists can be checked individually and will possibly lead to exposure of other errors or debatable readings or decisions, but the tables are constructed so capriciously and idiosyncratically, with so little demonstrated understanding of Gabler's theoretical assumptions and procedures, and with no coherent or consistent indication of Kidd's own working assumptions that they can point to errors or misjudgments only by accident. Kidd's campaign forced a great deal of negative attention on this edition but has ultimately revealed very little at all about it. It is to be hoped that the kind of inquiry that McGann and other critics have called for can now come to the forefront. 4 Such an inquiry is possible because, like any responsible editor, Gabler discussed his editorial procedures and laid out his decisions fully in Ulysses: A Critical and Synoptic Edition. He defines a 'critical edition' by 'the complex interdependence of a text established from the ground up' as opposed to marking up and correcting an existing text 'and its interfacing apparatus.' Many different kinds of critical editions are possible, including a copytext edition or a different kind of nontraditional edition, but for all of them the text itself constitutes only one part. Equally essential is the apparatus, which acknowledges the hand of the

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editor. Readers should be extremely suspicious of any edition that presents itself as a reading text without an apparatus spelling out all its editor's assumptions and decisions. Anyone wishing to follow the logic and procedures that produced the readings in this edition, in other words to listen to the editor speaking as editor, is strongly urged to use the line numbers here to find the corresponding passage in Ulysses.· .A Critical and Synoptic Edition, with its synoptic text on the facing left-hand page. Likewise, more detailed explanations of Gabler's assumptions and procedures are available in his Afterword to the three-volume edition and in his articles 'On Textual Criticism and Editing: The Case of Joyce's Ulysses' and the more extended 'What Ulysses Requires.' Michael Groden August 1993 NOTES 1

The list of References following this Afterword contains bibliographic details about all works mentioned in the text and about some other valuable studies of the edition. 2 Some critics have argued that the first edition can and should serve as the basis for an orthodox copytext edition of Ulysses. The claim can be assessed only when an edition of this kind is actually produced. 3 Gabler has gone on to produce Joyce's Dubliners and .A Portrait of the .Artist as a Young Man in more traditional copytext editions, but even there, as he explains in the Introduction to Portrait, he has resisted emending the copytext solely to fulfil final authorial intention. 4 The above assessments of Kidd's attacks are elaborated in my 'Response' to K.idd's 'Inquiry' and in Gabler's 'What Ulysses Requires.'

REFERENCES Gabler, Hans Walter. 'Afterword' to James Joyce. Ulysses.· A Critical and Synoptic Edition. Ed. Gabler with Wolfhard Steppe and Claus Melchior. New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1984. 3:1859-1907. --.'Introduction' to James Joyce. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Ed. Gabler with Walter Hettche. New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1933, pp. 1-18. Edited text reprinted, New York: Vintage, 1993·

- - . 'On Textual Criticism and Editing: The Case of Joyce's Ulysses.' Palimpsest: Editorial Theory in the Humanities. Ed. George Bornstein and Ralph G. Williams. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1993, pp. 195-2.2.4.

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- - . 'What Ulysses Requires.' Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 87 (1993): 187-248. Goldman, Arnold. 'Joyce's Ulysses as Work in Progress: The Controversy and Its Implications.' journal of Modern Literature I 5 (1989): 579-88. Greetham, D. C. 'The Manifestation and Accommodation of Theory in Textual Editing.' DtfJils and Angels: Textual Editing and Literary Theory. Ed. Philip Cohen. Charlottesville and London: University Press of Virginia, 1991, pp. 78-102.. Groden, Michael. 'Foostering Over Those Changes: The New Ulysses.' james joyce Quarterly 2.2. (1985): 137-59. - - , , 'A Response to John K.idd's 'An Inquiry Into Ulysses: The Corrected Text'.' james joyce Quarterly 2.8 (1990): 81-110. Joyce, James. Ulysses.· A Critical and Synoptic Edition. Ed. Hans Walter Gabler with Wolfhard Steppe and Claus Melchior. 3 vols. New York and London: Garland Publishing, I 984. Kidd, John. 'An Inquiry Into Ulysses: The Corrected Text.' Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 82. (1988): 411-584. - - . 'The Scandal of Ulysses.' New York Review of Books, June 30, 1988, pp. 3l-39· Mahaffey, Vicki. 'Intentional Error: The Paradox of Editing Joyce's Ulysses.' Representing Modernist Texts.· Editing as Interpretation. Ed. George Bomstein. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1991, pp. 171-91. McGann, Jerome J. 'Ulysses as a Postrnodem Work.' Social Values and Poetic Acts.· The Historical judgment of Literary Work. Cambridge, Mass. and London: Harvard University Press, 1988, pp. 173-94. Reprinted from Criticism 27 (1985): 283-306. Sandulescu, C. George, and Clive Hart, ed. Assessing the 1984 'Ulysses.' Gerrards Cross, Bucks: Colin Smythe, and Totowa, NJ: Barnes and Noble, 1986. 'Special Issue on Editing Ulysses.' Ed. Charles Rossman. Studies in the Novelll (Summer 1990). 'Ulysses.· The Text-The Debates of the Miami J'yce Conference.' james Joyce Literary Supplement 3 (Fall 1989).

Michael Groden is Professor of English at the University of Western Ontario. He is the author of 'Ulysses' in Progress (Princeton University Press, 1977), general editor of The james joyce Archive (63 volumes, Garland Publishing, 1977-79), compiler of fames joyce's Manuscripts.· An Index (Garland Publishing, 1980), and co-editor of The johns Hopkins Guide to Literary Theory and Criticism Oohns Hopkins University Press, 1994). He served as an adviser to Hans Walter Gabler on Ulysses: A Critical and Synoptic Edition.

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