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The Story of James Joyce’s ‘tiresome book’ – and it ain’t Ulysses!
Joyce as a young man in 1902 Photo: The Internet Archive (

The Story of James Joyce’s ‘tiresome book’ – and it ain’t Ulysses!

By Ed Mulhall

On 1 January 1917, James Joyce in Zurich received a telegram. It confirmed that his first novel, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, had finally been published. Joyce’s wish that it be published before the end of the year, 1916, had been granted. Just. A young American Publisher B.W. (Ben) Huebsch had cabled Harriet Shaw Weaver, owner and co-editor of The Egoist magazine, from New York on 30 December the simple message: “Published Huebsch”, confirming that on 29 December he had received enough copies from the bindery “to make it possible for me truthfully to say that the book was published”. It would be distributed to the bookshops and reviewers in January. It was Weaver in London who had then sent the telegram to Joyce in Zurich. On 22 January, 768 sets of sheets of the novel were sent by Huebsch to Weaver. These were bound in London to be published under The Egoist Limited imprint, the first English edition on 12 February and dated 1916.

Cover of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, as published by B.W. Huebsch in 1917. (Image: The Internet Archive,

Weaver had failed to secure a British printer willing to print some of the controversial passages in the novel and it was not until March 1918 that a true British edition was published. Weaver sent Joyce three copies of the book, one of which he returned inscribed to her. Joyce instructed that copies of the book be sent to his father, his aunt, Josephine Murray, and to his wife Nora’s uncle, Michael Healy. He asked that other copies be sent to those who had recently helped him in getting funding from the British Prime Minister, including W.B. Yeats and George Moore, and to one Dublin friend, Con Curran. Curran had been a friend of Joyce since University College and wrote back in thanks saying how much pleasure the novel had given him. He lamented the absence of some of the scenes he had read in an earlier version; he thought some of the classmates were too easily recognisable in the text and that he had been ‘unkind to the harmless and pitiable’ Fr Darlington. He hoped that Joyce would now turn from autobiography to something deeper and more imaginative. Curran had seen the story from its beginning, captured in the dates at the end of the published version: Dublin 1904, Trieste 1914.

It was in Dublin in 1904 that the novel which was to suffer many further rejections by publishers and printers had its origins in an act of refusal. Joyce had submitted an essay called ‘A Portrait of the Artist’ to the Dublin literary magazine Dana, a self-described “magazine of Independent thought” which lasted just 12 issues. Its co-editor, W. K. Magee, who wrote as John Eglinton, described Joyce submitting the manuscript to him at his place of work, the National Library of Ireland: “He observed me silently as I read, and when I handed it back to him with the timid observation that I did not care to publish what was to myself incomprehensible, he replaced it silently in his pocket.” 

Reading that essay today you can see Magee’s point for it has none of the clarity of Joyce’s early fiction, but within it are sketches of the themes of A Portrait and so Magee’s hope that he was not guilty of rejecting a work that would later become famous is not totally fulfilled.

The manuscript ends: “Perhaps his state would pension off old tyranny – a mercy no longer hopelessly remote – in virtue of that mature civilization to which (let all allow) it had in some way contributed. Already the messages of citizens were flashed along the wires of the world, already the generous idea had emerged from a thirty years’ war in Germany and was directing the councils of the Latins. To those multitudes, not as yet in the wombs of humanity but surely engenderable there, he would give the word: Man and Woman, out of you comes the nation that is to come, the lightening of your masses in travail; the competitive order is employed against itself, the aristocracies are supplanted; and amid the general paralysis of an insane society, the confederate will issues in action. Jas. A. Joyce 7/1/1904”

The rejection did however spur the ‘artist’ to a greater task; a novel. Joyce’s brother, Stanislaus, in a diary note dated 2 February 1904, James’ 22nd birthday, recalled his response:

“The paper was rejected by the editors, Fred Ryan and W. Magee because of the sexual experiences narrated in it. Jim thinks they rejected it because it was all about himself, though they professed great admiration for the style of paper. They always admire his style. Magee has an antipathy for Jim’s character I think…Jim is beginning his novel, as he usually begins things, half in anger, to show that in writing about himself he has a subject of more interest than their aimless discussion. I suggested the title of the paper ‘A Portrait of the Artist,’ and this evening, sitting in the kitchen, Jim told me his idea for the novel. It is to be almost autobiographical, and naturally as it comes from Jim, satirical. He is putting a large number of his acquaintances into it, and those Jesuits whom he has known. I don’t think they will like themselves in it. He has not decided on a title, and again I made most of the suggestions. Finally, a title of mine was accepted: ‘Stephen Hero,’ from Jim’s own name in the book Stephen Dedalus.” 

Stanislaus's neat narrative of the beginning of the work is challenged somewhat by a letter from Joyce's sister May in September 1916 where she recalls: “…you have rewritten it since we lived in St. Peters Terrace when we used to be all put out of the room when you were reading each new chapter for Mother. I used to hide under the sofa to hear it until you said I might stay." Joyce's mother died in August 1903, so the novel may have started before then. However, it is possible that what Joyce read to his mother were sketches for a work, perhaps some of the Epiphanies some of which survive. They depict scenes, with family and friends, things said and dreamt, phrases remembered but without a linking structure. One looks to a journey: “The spell of arms and voices, their promise of cold embraces, and the black arms of tall ships that stand against the moon, their tale of distant nations. They are held out to say: We are alone, -come. And the voices say with them. We are your people. And the air is thick with their company as they call to me their kinsman, making ready to go, shaking the wings of their exultant and terrible youth.” Now, in the same copy book that contains the Portrait essay, Joyce writes out details for chapters, characters, ideas, a structure. So, whatever was there before, from this moment, he started again, capturing the scenes from his experience, guided by the thoughts in the essay and began writing in earnest.

James completed his first chapter in a week and had 11 chapters completed by the end of March. Surviving sketches of the chapters show these taking Stephen’s story through his time at Clongowes, with some ideas for later chapters that he intended to reach 63 in number.

That he considered this time the proper beginning of the work is confirmed by his listing 'Dublin, 1904" as the start in the published novel, ten years later. But 1904 was a dramatic year for Joyce, with events which would later form the central focus of his epic novel Ulysses, and his progress on Stephen Hero slowed before he left Ireland with Nora Barnacle on the 8th of October. He was then just half way through Chapter XII. Before he left he had one further encounter with the librarian Magee. On 15 September Joyce was ejected from the Martello Tower that he shared with Oliver Gogarty in Sandycove following a disturbance in the night and walks back into the city along Sandymount Strand arriving at the National Library as Magee is opening up. Magee is the first then to hear the story which will feature in the opening episode of Ulysses

Joyce continued to work on Stephen Hero once he was settled in Pola and later Trieste but he had also begun writing the stories that would become Dubliners. His first story, ‘Sisters’, was published in The Irish Homestead in August 1904; ‘Eveline’ in September; ‘After the Race’ in December. Following rejection of a story called ‘Hallow Eve’ – later rewritten as ‘Clay’ – he returned to the novel and completed 11 chapters dealing with life at University College. With this new confidence he considered rewriting the earlier chapters as he now believed he was writing better. It is these chapters that survive from the original manuscript and which were published as Stephen Hero in 1963. The 383 pages that remain, are written in a very different style than the later work, with more dialogue and discussion. They take Stephen through the two years of university, opening with the Dean of the College, Fr Butt, and his composition class and ending with the summer following the exams and discussion of Stephen abandoning college, including a scene where Fr Butt asks Stephen what his attentions are: “Literature, said Stephen.” On another manuscript, a fragment of an epiphany now settled into the narrative: “We are your people: and the air grew thick with their company as they called to him, their kinsman, making ready to go, shaking the wings of their exultant and terrible youth.” 

In late June or in July 1905 (when his son Giorgio was born) and into Chapter XXVI he stopped writing Stephen Hero, having written over 500 pages. He shifted his focus entirely to completing the collection of short stories.

It was September 1907 before he returned to the project, having finished writing the last story for Dubliners – ‘The Dead’. By then he had completely recast his approach. It would now cover the whole of the period intended for Stephen Hero but in five chapters not 63. He was also more ambitious stylistically, adapting his style as he moved through the work. It is closer to the more thematic framing of the Portrait essay. He wrote three chapters between 8 September 1907 and 7 April 1908 before he stopped again. It was through the encouragement of a Triestian friend, the novelist Italo Svevo (Ettore Schmitz), who read the first three chapters, that he returned to the work in February 1909. Schmitz, a student of Joyce and himself an unpublished novelist, wrote of his strong feeling in reading in particular Chapters 2 and 3 and his response encouraged Joyce to continue. (Schmitz is critical of Chapter 1 and this may have influenced Joyce to move the Christmas scene into the earlier section and thereby move it back in time and place, from Dublin to Bray.)

Banner of The Egoist from the edition that included the final instalment in the serialisation of Joyce's A Portrait (Image: The Internet Archive,

But outside forces were again to distract Joyce from the work. Sometime in 1911, in a much mythologised scene, Joyce threw a manuscript of the work into a fire, to be rescued by a ‘family fire-brigade’ as he wrote to Harriet Weaver. His frustration was not just with the writing process. He continued to be a diligent writer, but with the continued machinations in getting his work published – Dubliners having again been rejected for publication. There is no certainty as to whether the burnt manuscript was Stephen Hero, or a draft of Portrait, or as to what was destroyed or survived (though Hans Gabler has attested to it being A Portrait with part of the manuscript surviving in the fair copy in the NLI). But he did continue on with the work and it was again the prospect of publication, this time in serial fashion in Harriet Weaver’s journal The Egoist, that got him to complete it. In preparing it for publication he made major changes to the final chapter both in style and chronology. He introduced the internal dialogue in the form of a diary and rewrote major sections of the piece discarding sections he had written that brought the story up to his exile of 1904. The novel ended now in 1902, his first trip to Paris, before the death of his mother, before Nora. Sections dealing with Gogarty and the Tower are saved for the future. The serial publication in The Egoist began on Joyce’s birthday, 2 February 1914, thus bringing a neat bracketing to the novel’s beginning in the kitchen in 1904.

The association with The Egoist and Harriet Weaver came directly from Joyce's relationship with Ezra Pound (a contact initiated by W.B. Yeats in 1913). Pound and Weaver were to be influential in not only assisting the publication of Joyce's works but in his achieving some financial independence to devote more of his time to writing. Pound and Yeats had lobbied successfully for Joyce, newly arrived in Zurich, to receive a grant from the Royal Literary Fund in August, 1915. In the summer of the following year, 1916, Pound again sought to get British government funding for Joyce in the form of a civil list pension. Yeats, who was already in receipt of one, suggested a direct appeal to the Prime Minister Herbert Asquith. Pound had Lady Cunard, an associate of the Irish novelist George Moore, approach Edward Marsh on Joyce's behalf, sending him Joyce's available work. Marsh sought references from Moore and Yeats. Yeats, endorsing the application in a letter that did not arrive before the adjudication, described Joyce's work as having a 'curious brooding intensity' and said of A Portrait: "I have only seen in fragments but I saw enough to know that it has great intensity and sincerity. I think him a possible man of genius, just such a man as it is well to help." 

Moore's letter is typical of him, with little about Joyce and much about the ‘Irish'. He writes only of the short story collection Dubliners and of ‘The Dead’: "some of them are trivial and disagreeable but all are written by a clever man and the book contains one story, the longest story in the book and the last story which seemed to me perfection whilst I read it: I regretted that I was not the author of it." Moore then moved on to politics: "Of his political views I know nothing. He was not in Ireland during the sowing of the Sinn Féin seed and I hope that he is not even a Home Ruler. Democratic principles are unsuited to Ireland. I am an admirer of Mr. Asquith and regret that he cannot bring himself to believe that there can be no settlement, and that all attempts at settlement will fail. The Irish like discipline, and if Mr. Asquith would treat the Irish as the Pope does he would be the most popular man in Ireland." Almost as an afterthought he added: "I am sure from a literary point of view Joyce is deserving of help." 

Marsh recommended the bursary and Asquith noted on the papers submitted: "Yes, with some doubts on Joyce." It was, however, a notable decision to give such an award to an Irishman at a difficult time in British politics and in the aftermath of a rebellion and another failure to find agreement between Irish parties at Westminster. The award of £100 on 'His Majesty's Royal Bounty' was sent to Joyce in Zurich. Joyce informed his father who expressed pride on his son receiving 'such an honour from His Majesty' and Joyce wrote to Asquith a letter in thanks signing it: 'your faithful and obedient servant'. This official link may explain somewhat Joyce's lack of engagement with the turbulent political situation in Ireland at the time. Writing a letter to Mary Kettle on the death of her husband Tom Kettle at the Somme and requesting her to convey to her sister his sympathy at the loss of her husband, Francis Sheehy Skeffington, during the Easter Rising, he acknowledged: "I am grieved to learn that so many misfortunes have fallen on your family in these evil days." 

Joyce had also gained some support from a local benefactor in Zurich, Mrs. Harold McCormick, and was beginning to get support from two other significant patrons: John Quinn, an American lawyer and friend of Yeats, and Pound who had sent a cheque in support of Joyce and began to inquire about buying some manuscripts from him. Harriet Shaw Weaver, too, had sent some individual payments and in February 1917, a solicitor wrote on behalf of an anonymous donor pledging cheques of £50 every three months. This too was Weaver who would continue to support Joyce in different ways for the rest of his life.

Through Pound and his circle, Joyce now had an agent James Pinker working on his behalf and he, together with Pound and Weaver, were seeking publishers on both sides of the Atlantic for A Portrait from the time it finished its serialisation in The Egoist in September 1915. Grant Richards the eventual publisher of Dubliners having passed, the book was proposed to a number of leading publishers: Martin Secker, Werner Laurie, Heinemann, Yale, Duckworth Ltd and John Lane with no success. Pound was particularly enraged by the rejection letter from Duckworth’s Herbert J. Cape. He said they may consider publishing only if it were revised as suggested by their reader Edward Garnett. Garnett described it as too ‘unconventional’: “it is too discursive, formless, unrestrained, and ugly things, ugly words are too prominent; indeed, at times they seemed to be shoved in one’s face, on purpose, unnecessarily… point of view will be voted ‘a little sordid... at the end of the book there is a complete falling to bits, the pieces of writing and the thoughts are all in pieces and they fall like damp, ineffective rockets.” 

Pound didn’t hold back in his reply to Pinker, saying:

“It is with difficulty that I manage to write to you at all being presented with the Duckworthian muck, the dungminded, dung-beared, penny a line, please the mediocre-at-all-cost doctrine. You English will get no prose until you exterminate this breed. As for altering Joyce to suit Duckworth’s reader – it would be like trying to fit the Venus de Milo into a piss-pot – a few changes required.” 

Pound added that he wouldn’t be forwarding the suggestions to Joyce and that in any event there was a fall-back plan should an established publisher not be found; The Egoist would publish the volume.

An excerpt from the serialisation of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in The Egoist. (Image: The Internet Archive,

Harriet Shaw Weaver was now committed to supporting Joyce and, despite the nervousness of her partner Dora Marsden about a move into publishing, was determined to see A Portrait published. As efforts continued to find a major publisher, Harriet began the process of locating a printer in Britain who would be prepared to print the book in full. (There had already been difficulties with the serialization and some passages had to be excised on printers’ instructions, some without Joyce’s knowledge.) Over a dozen printers in Britain were approached and Weaver even considered agreeing to some excisions if blank passages marked the spot. In the United States there was a breakthrough from two of Ezra Pound’s contacts: John Marshall agreed to publish without excisions and separately a young New York publisher Ben Huebsch also agreed to publish “absolutely according to the writer’s wishes”. Huebsch wrote to Weaver on 16 June 1916, confirming the offer, saying that he would also publish Dubliners and Joyce’s other work in the U.S. and saying that the success of Portrait may be “artistic rather than popular” but that it would serve as a “foundation for Mr. Joyce’s other works on this side”. Marshall, who had a full copy of the text, pulled out two weeks later and it was to prove difficult to retrieve the text from that company for the Huebsch publication. Weaver now decided that she would use the US printer sheets for The Egoist publication having failed to find a British publisher or printer. She ordered 750 copies in sheets from Huebsch (this also helped to underwrite his financial exposure). Harriet began to gather a full copy of the manuscript using the copies circulated to publishers in Britain, the text used for The Egoist serialisation and restoring the deletions and adding corrections that Joyce had required from the printed text. Joyce worked quickly in providing the corrections when contacted.

Joyce who was quite ill in October (having suffered a number of nervous collapses) wrote to Huebsch saying that he would like some of the notices for Dubliners inserted into the new book and that he hoped that the novel would be published in 1916: “If, however the book be delayed beyond the end of the year I should be much obliged if the frontispiece be printed as 1916.” Joyce explained to Weaver that one of the reasons for this was that he hoped to publish his play Exiles in 1917.

Last minute publicity material was also required including new photographs of Joyce and, having sent them on, Joyce wrote to Weaver thanking her for all her efforts: “I am infinitely obliged by all the trouble you have taken about my tiresome books and would beg you, as a very great favour, to telegraph to me as soon as you know definitely that the book has appeared in New York.” Huebsch published Dubliners in New York using sheets imported from Grant Richards in London around the 15 December and A Portrait was ready on the 29th. 

Having succeeded finally in getting the novel published, Pound and Weaver now began the process of getting the novel reviewed – with some success. Pound again launched the English edition with a review in The Egoist: “Now, despite the jobbing of bigots and of their sectarian publishing houses, and despite the ‘Fly-Fishers’ and the types they represent and despite the unwillingness of the print packers (a word derived from pork packers) and the initial objections of the Dublin publishers and the later unwillingness of the English publishers, Mr. Joyce’s novel appears in book form, and intelligent readers gathering few by few will read it, and it will remain a permanent part of English literature written by an Irishman in Trieste and first published in New York city.” It was however the review by H.G. Wells in The Nation that was the most important of the early reviews: “It is a book to buy and read and lock up, but it is not a book to miss. Its claim to be literature is as good as the claim of the last book of Gulliver’s Travels.” It was April before there was a notable review in one of the Irish papers, The Freeman’s Journal: “Mr. Joyce’s prose is masterly in its terseness and force, even his most casual descriptions haunt the mind by their vividness and wonderful economy of line. What he sees he can reproduce in words with a precision as rare as it is subtle; the pity is that, in one of his own phrases, the memory of these things has too often ‘coated his palate with the scum of disgust.’ The title of the review is ‘A Dyspeptic Portrait’.

Joyce was keen to see all the reviews and extracts from them were used in The Egoist to further publicise the work. But there were also significant responses from other writers to the work. Ezra Pound sent Joyce a letter he had received from Yeats saying: “Yeats has not read a novel for years – which is a compliment if you are [of] a mind to take it.” The note from Yeats read: “My Dear Ezra: I have almost finished ‘A Portrait of the Artist’ – I think it a very great book – I am absorbed in it. If you have the play, bring it tomorrow night. If at all possible the Abbey should face a riot for it.” Pound correctly predicted that The Abbey Theatre was unlikely to produce Exiles, which Joyce was now eager to get published in 1917.

By now Joyce – thanks to the generosity of Weaver and his other benefactors – was becoming more financially secure. Quinn, who reviewed A Portrait for Vanity Fair later in the year was also looking to buy manuscripts. Joyce told him that the Portrait manuscript was not available as it was left behind in Trieste. Joyce had begun to have serious problems with his eyes with a major attack in December 1916 and continued problems during 1917 that often impeded his writing. That writing is Ulysses. By October of 1916, he told Weaver that the first section of the novel was almost finished and he has “written out part of the middle and end. I hope to finish it in 1918.” It is a project that occupies him often to the exclusion of all else, including a war. His official biographer, Herbert Gorman, who talked with Joyce when writing his book and who accepted his suggestion on details, wrote:

“So we see him at this mid-moment of the war, existing in a city that was
fearfully like a boiling cauldron and with the brouhaha of mad days about him
but walking through it with his mind intent upon an olive-faced man whom he
had created and set peregrinating through the streets of Dublin in 1904. What
was the war to him? – no more than the argument between stupid men who
could settle nothing by reason. There was not even a cause to be admired. There
was nothing but rapaciousness and the complicated duels of commercial
supremacies. If the conflict had arisen because of a persecuted people he might
have sympathized…He had already reached a point in his uncompleted book
where he had set down the lines: ’Perfume of embraces all him assailed with
hungered flesh obscurely, he mutely craved to adore.’ He had paused for a long
time after that, pondering the rhythm and unusual juxtaposition of words. There
was something new, something more important than a won battle, in the fall of
those words and the suggestion that they gave to him. And knowing this he knew
that Ulysses was more important to him than the Great War. He was marching to
a new terrain of literature where no man had marched before.” 

The Artist was at work.

The National Library of Ireland missed out on the manuscript drafts of Finnegans Wake, but did receive the manuscript of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man that Joyce left in Trieste

There was a final coda to the story of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Following James Joyce’s death, Harriet Shaw Weaver, as his executor, gathered those manuscripts of his that remained, principally letters and the manuscript drafts of Finnegans Wake (many of the Ulysses manuscripts having been sold at an auction in Paris) with the intention of donating them to the National Library of Ireland. Nora Joyce was initially supportive, though she had been upset when the Library received letters of Joyce in the Paul Leon collection without her knowledge. However, when the Irish government (in the person of Seán Mac Bride) refused to assist in a plan to repatriate Joyce’s body to Ireland from Zurich, Nora, who had planned to return to Ireland with the body, now became adamantly opposed to the donation of the Wake manuscripts to Dublin. Reluctantly Weaver arranged for the manuscripts to go to the British Museum, a bequest made after Nora had died in April 1951.

Harriet had, however, some consolation for the Director of the National Library of Ireland, Dr R.J. Hayes to whom she wrote with the news that the British Museum had the manuscripts he had hoped to receive: “I did not discuss with Mrs. Joyce the disposal of the manuscript of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man which Mr. Joyce gave me a long time ago. I should like to give this to the National Library of Ireland if you would care to have it. It is really a fair copy made for the typist and without corrections. I should also be pleased to give you for the library – and I think Lucia Joyce would be pleased too – the wonderful illuminated initial letters she made (urged on by her father) for the Chaucer A.B.C.” She handed the manuscript over a few days later to the Irish Ambassador to London F. H. Boland, father of the poet Eavan Boland. He, like Joyce, had been to Clongowes and Belvedere and had known Joyce in Paris where Joyce was “always prepared to listen to Dubliners born and bred like myself”.

The manuscript was that left behind by Joyce in Trieste and, while mainly a fair copy prepared for the typist when the chapters were sent to The Egoist for publication, scholars have found within its leaves some of the hidden story of its publication. Hans Gabler has detected within the two bundles of the manuscript seven strata of composition right up to its final phase when the final chapter was restructured and rewritten before being sent to The Egoist. Most surprisingly he found links back to the Stephen Hero version and concluded: “The actual pages ‘239 to 313’ belonged, I suggest, to the Portrait manuscript that narrowly escaped destruction in 1911, the ‘original’ original, which, when rescued was sorted out and pieced together in preparation of the final manuscript and in which there were ‘pages I could never have re-written’.” In the leaves of the final Chapter V, Gabler detected the evolution of the work to its final form, the insertion of sections and passages, some retrieved from Stephen Hero, much newly composed as he prepared it for the typist, as Joyce wove it into its final shape before it took its wartime journey to publication. Completed with its echo of that earlier essay and the epiphanies that preceded it, his mother’s farewell and his bold ambition:

“16 April: Away, Away!
The spell of arms and voices: the white arms of roads, their promise of close embraces and the black arms of tall ships that stand against the moon, their tale of distant nations. They are held out to say: We are alone. Come. And the voices say with them: We are your kinsmen. And the air is thick with their company as they call to me, their kinsman, making ready to go, shaking the wings of their exultant and terrible youth.
26 April: Mother is putting my new secondhand clothes in order. She prays now, she says, that I may learn in my own life and away from home and friends what the heart is and what it feels. Amen. So be it. Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
27 April: Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.

Dublin 1904
Trieste 1914.”

Returned from Trieste to Dublin the Portrait manuscript in Joyce’s careful hand rests now, amongst an extensive collection of significant Joyce manuscripts, in the National Library of Ireland where its embryonic essay was first rejected in January, 1904.

Further Reading:

1. Richard Ellman, James Joyce (New York,1959) 1982
2. Roger Norburn, A James Joyce Chronology (New York 2004)
3. Letters of James Joyce, Volume 1, edited by Stuart Gilbert (New York, 1957)
4. Letters of James Joyce, Volume 2 and 3, edited by Richard Ellman (New York, 1966 and 1975)
5. Jane Lidderdale and Mary Nicholson, Dear Miss Weaver, New York, 1970, Forrest Read editor, Pound-Joyce (New York, 1970)
6. Rodney Wilson Owen, James Joyce and the Beginnings of Ulysses (Essex, 1983)
7. Hans Walter Gabler in Norton Critical Edition of A Portrait (2007)
8. Hans Walter Gabler, ‘The Seven Lost Years of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man’, in Thomas F. Staley and Bernard Benstock eds, Approaches to Joyce’s Portrait (Pittsburgh 1976)
9. Forrest Read editor, Pound-Joyce, The Letters of Ezra Pound to James Joyce (New York, 1970)
10. Herbert Gorman, James Joyce, A definitive biography (London, 1941)
11. Gordon Bowker, James Joyce, A Biography, London, 2011.
12. Robert H. Deming, James Joyce, The Critical Heritage, Volume 1 (New York, 1970)
13. Robert Scholes and Richard M. Kain, The Workshop of Dedalus (Northwestern, 1965)
14. Stanley Price, James Joyce and Italo Svevo, the Story of a Friendship (Bantry 2016)
15. James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Oxford, 2000 and Norton, 2007)
16. James Joyce, Stephen Hero (New York, 1944, 1963)
17. William E. Morris and Clifford A Nault Jnr, Portraits of an Artist, A Casebook (Ohio, 1962)
18. A . Nicholas Farnoli, James Joyce, A Literary Reference (New York, 2003)
19. John McCourt, The Years of Bloom (Dublin, 2000)
20. Peter Costello, James Joyce, The Years of Growth (Cork, 1992)
21. James Joyce, Poems and Shorter Writings, edited by Richard Ellman, A. Walton Litz and John Whittier-Ferguson (London, 1991)
22. John Eglington, Irish Literary Portraits (London, 1935)
23. Stanislaus Joyce, The Complete Dublin Diary of Stanislaus Joyce, edited by George H. Healy (Cornell, 1971)
24. Edward Mulhall, James Joyce, 1914, Trieste, Century Ireland


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The Century Ireland project is an online historical newspaper that tells the story of the events of Irish life a century ago.