IN 1912, James Joyce made his last recorded visit to Dublin. He was 30 years-old and had been struggling for three years to have his era-defining collection of short stories ‘Dubliners’ published by Maunsel and Company; an Irish press owned and operated by well-known actor and poet George Roberts.
Initially, Joyce’s chances looked promising. Roberts seemed keen, and when he got a hold of the manuscript, Maunsel had already produced several works associated with the burgeoning Irish Literary Revival, including books by WB Yeats, John Millington Synge, Lady Gregory and several others pushing the boundaries of what Irish literature could achieve.
Unfortunately for Joyce, the relationship soured. Upon returning to Dublin, he discovered that Roberts had almost completely destroyed the work, accusing him of obscenity and worrying the already financially unstable young author with threats of a potential libel action.
Joyce managed to salvage ‘Dubliners’ from a copy of the proof sheets and upon returning to Trieste, he wrote a scathing invective against the Irish literary establishment called ‘Gas from a Burner’. He never went back.
Though ‘Dubliners’ would go on to be published by Grant Richards Ltd. in 1914, Joyce’s relationship with Ireland was irrevocably severed. What’s instructive here is that even though Joyce has since been elevated to the status of a giant – with a homegrown industry of kitsch and tourist bait to boot – he was not allowed to fulfil the full breadth of his ambition in Ireland.
He had to leave home in order to see it more clearly, and despite the fact that we now congratulate ourselves for having produced literary modernism’s most important figure, our establishment institutions have been more than happy sabotage him at every turn.
For decades after its initial publication in 1922, ‘Ulysses’ was not made available in the Republic of Ireland. Joseph Strick’s 1967 film adaptation was refused a certificate from the Censorship Appeals Board and did not get an official release in the country until February 2001.
Because Joyce held up an uncomfortable mirror to Irish society at a time when the country was still struggling against the controlling twin prongs of the British Empire and the Catholic Church, Ireland elected to shun him instead of embracing his hard-won truths. It is heartening to see how things have changed, but we still have some way to go before we can fully lay claim to our most cherished artists.
