Raising the Wind Just over forty years ago, Thomas F. Staley published the first issue of the James Joyce Quarterly, literally assembling it in his garage here in Tulsa. As you might expect, it was a relatively simple (if nevertheless audacious) affair: green paper wrappers and a stapled binding held together a loose collection of writings by Berni Benstock, Robert Boyle, Richard Kain, and others. In his editorial preface, Staley also promised his readers that in the next issue they would find what would become the first James Joyce Checklist—an attempt to provide a bibliography of all recently published work on and by Joyce. Composed by Alan Cohn and Richard Kain, this "supplemental" bibliography contained about one hundred fifty entries on eight pages—a relatively modest affair when compared to more recent installments that cover twenty or more pages and list often three hundred articles, plays, books, and reviews. From its inception, therefore, the JJQ has attempted to provide its readers with the essential scholarly tools they require. This special double issue of the JJQ continues the legacy of those early green-covered volumes by publishing a cumulative annotated index of the journal's first forty years. A list of all of the articles, notes, essays, reviews, poems, drawings, and photographs that have appeared in the JJQ since its inception, this index provides a relatively comprehensive survey of the kind of work that the Joyce industry has produced over the last four decades. Compiled by Jeremy Saint Larance, a graduate student in our offices, along with the help of Carol Kealiher and all of our editorial assistants, this index is the product of countless hours of work. The tales of frustration and exhaustion that marked this undertaking should perhaps not be enumerated here, for they range from damaged computer files to a stolen laptop, but it would be fair to say that few projects have so absorbed the time and energy of our staff. The end result, however, will prove as invaluable to Joyce scholars as its earlier iterations have been—indeed, one of the rarest recent issues of the JJQ is the volume containing the thirty-year index. We plan, in fact, to make it even more amenable to the modern labors of criticism and scholarship by making it available on-line, where both the titles and the abstracts can be efficiently searched. Given the unique nature of this special issue, timed by a happy accident of chance to coincide with the Bloomsday centenary, we will not publish the usual assortment of book reviews, notes, cartoons, and poems. These regular features, as well as forthcoming memorials on both Robert Kellogg and Michael Begnal—both of whom we have lost this year—will appear in the next issue. In addition, the considerable bulk of our own cumulative index has required us to reschedule the publication of the annotations to Stephen Hero (originally scheduled to appear beside the index) in the next issue. We apologize for this slight delay, but we are confident that it will give the compilers more time to incorporate a new store of information that has just come to light. Even as I introduce this fortieth issue of the JJQ, however, it is also time to bid farewell to some of the interns and assistants who work so hard to proof, correct, and generally tidy-up even the messiest of typescripts. Allen Bauman, who has served as both book review editor and, more recently, as the JJQ's web editor will be taking up a tenure-track appointment this fall after completing a dissertation on the Edwardian discourses of paralysis—a study that includes a fascinating reading of Stephen Hero. The day-to-day management of the web site will now be in the capable hands of Matthew Perry and Matthew Huculak. Jeffrey Longacre, who has been on the JJQ staff ever since my arrival and has served for the last three years as co-editor of the book review section will be departing. Marcia Farrell will take his place, assuming full responsibility for the position. In addition, we will regret losing the talents of Richard Black, though we also welcome his replacement, Christine Cavitt. Greater changes are in store as well, for this issue of the JJQ marks the last one that will be published from what has long been affectionately known as "the red house," a smallish home on a quiet corner of campus that has not been painted red for over a decade. Shortly, both this journal and Tulsa Studies in Women's Literature will be moving to new, slightly less idiosyncratic digs on campus—a move that may slightly disrupt the publication of the next issue. While we will be acquiring a new space which we can tailor more efficiently to our needs, we will miss this old house stuffed full of posters, prints, covers, and souvenirs—an institution both here at the University of Tulsa and beyond that has always kept us somehow connected to the JJQ's own modest origins. I hope you will all join me in bidding a fond farewell to this old red house on the prairie. News and Notes It was with some shock and a great deal of frustration that I learned the Joyce Estate has once again decided to press its heavy hand upon literary scholarship. In February, Stephen Joyce held a press conference in Zurich to announce that he would go to great lengths to enforce his rights during the upcoming Bloomsday 100 celebration, denying the city of Dublin and the many artists and performers drawn to the event any permission to quote directly from the text of Ulysses. He also took the opportunity to denounce the upcoming symposium, the city of Dublin, and the state of Ireland. There will presumably be no sanctioned readings of the novel being so grandly feted during the week, though it is difficult to imagine how anyone will be able to control what will surely be the hundreds if not thousands of spontaneous acts of street theater certain to break out on Sandymount Strand, in the Martello Tower, and elsewhere in the city—many of them certain to be staged by the crowds of readers and enthusiasts who know nothing of Mr. Joyce or the finer points of intellectual property rights. Even more distressing than Mr. Joyce's press conference, however, was the news that Michael Groden has been forced to suspend work on his eagerly anticipated hypertext edition of Ulysses. A few years ago, Professor Groden merged his "James Joyce's Ulysses in Hypermedia" with an ongoing hypermedia project at the Poetry/RareBooks Collection at the University at Buffalo to form a new, larger project called "Digital Ulysses." The Joyce Estate, it seems, has now asked a price for permissions that makes the entire undertaking impossible. Many of us have watched Groden and his team work on this remarkable edition for years, marveling at the latest multi-media addition to the archive while debating the proper strategies for annotation that should be employed. Individual editors have been at work for years on each of the episodes, and it is difficult to imagine the sweat and time that has been poured into a project that now appears to be—for the moment at least—derailed. It is, of course, clear that the Joyce Estate does own the rights to Ulysses and will for many years to come; they are, in fact, well within their rights to ask a reasonable price from anyone in the United States or the European Union who wants to create a new edition of the work. (Its rights in the original 1922 edition of the novel are, of course, subject to considerable dispute.) Nevertheless, this particular exercise of copyright is particularly capricious in its application and does significant damage both to Joyce studies in particular and to the power and legacy of Ulysses itself. As we move increasingly toward a digitized world, a hypertext edition of this landmark novel becomes an ever more pressing need, offering a way to make the work available to a newly emergent international audience. On-line editions of the text are, of course, already available—it is, after all, nearly impossible to regulate the flow of material on the web. What Groden and his editors offer, however, is an edition that has been rigorously reviewed, deeply researched, and carefully annotated. It meets the highest standards of scholarship and in this insures that the power and integrity of the novel will be protected as it enters into hyperspace. We only hope that the Estate will eventually reconsider its decision and allow this project to proceed—both in its own interests and in those of readers both old and new. Indeed, the need for this sort of edition was once more made apparent when the popular press, somewhat unfairly, reported Roddy Doyle's attack on Ulysses as a novel that was, in the words of a headline from the Guardian of 10 February, "overlong, overrated, and unmoving." The article went on to note Doyle's objection that "Ulysses could have done with a good editor" and that each time he opens the Wake he could only see it as "a tragic waste of time." From other reports, it appears that Doyle's critiques may not have been quite as sharp or as withering when placed in the proper context, but the incident should nevertheless remind us that even Joyce's greatest works are still faced with hostility and often dismissed as mere highbrow obfuscation. A hypertext edition of Ulysses would, I suspect, go some considerable way to providing a means of rebutting such charges. Joyce's birthday was marked not only with hostile news conferences and articles, but also by the familiar warmth and hospitality of the 16th Irregular Miami J'yce Conference hosted by Zack Bowen and expertly managed by Al Gravano. The smallish group that gathered included Robert Scholes and Fritz Senn, who both delivered exceptional keynotes. The panels themselves were organized by Clare Culleton and Keri Ames who worked together to produce a rich array of papers that not only inspired a good deal of thought and conversation but provided, I suspect, an enticing preview of the kind of work that will be unveiled in Dublin. A report on the birthday conference by Vike Plock will appear in the next issue. Organized in conjunction with the Bloomsday Centenary, two major exhibitions of Joyce materials have been staged. The first, entitled "James Joyce and Ulysses at the National Library of Ireland" will be on display in Dublin beginning in June and will run until September 2004. If the advance materials I have seen are any indication, then I am certain that this display will be perhaps one of the most stunning highlights of the ReJoyce Dublin festivities. In addition, Ireland's Department of Foreign Affairs, in conjunction with their embassies around the world, have mounted a traveling exhibit entitled International Joyce. A diverse array of materials on Joyce's life and work can be seen at this event which will travel from China to Bulgaria. A complete schedule is online at http://www.foreignaf-fairs.irlgov.ie/information/culture/default.asp?m=i. The interest in such material objects as well as the recent discovery of manuscript Joyce materials has sent those who might own such treasures back into their attics and trunks, for Sotheby's has just announced that it will be auctioning off a small collection of newly discovered items in July. Perhaps the most striking lot is one of the so-called "dirty letters," this one written by Joyce in response to Nora's first impassioned missive. Ellmann had thought the letter lost, but you can lay your hands on it for the modest auction estimate of £60,000. Among the other items available are a one-word telegram from Nora, a set of abandoned proofs for the 1910 edition of Dubliners, Joyce's glasses, and the bronze medal he won in a singing competition. While this discovery is relatively minor, it did remind us that it was nearly two years ago that the NLI announced its acquisition of an entire trunk of manuscript materials. For his service both to the Library and to Joyce's work more generally, the National University of Ireland has announced that it will confer an honorary degree upon Michael Groden. Fritz Senn too will be receiving a degree acknowledging his own signal contribution to the Joyce Industry. They will be joined as well by two distinguished playwrights with deep Irish connections: Jennifer Johnston and Harold Pinter. The event will take place on 16 June at the height of the Bloomsday 100 celebrations, and I hope you will all find a moment to convey your congratulations to both Fritz and Mike. Those who cannot sate themselves on Joyce with the upcoming IJJF Symposium and the spectacles of Bloomsday 100 might also want to take advantage of the two other annual events that have been slightly overshadowed this year: the Eighth Annual Trieste Joyce School and the 2004 Zurich Joyce Workshop. The former will run from 27 June to 3 July, while the latter will run from 1-7 August. Details on both events are available on-line. Both promise to offer the same kind of intense and intimate intellectual experience (matched with a healthy dose of conviviality) that we have all come to expect. Finally, I want to close by wishing a fond farewell to one of our sister publications: the Joyce Studies Annual. After fourteen years of publication under the editorship of Thomas F. Staley, this always rich and compelling journal has decided to shutter its doors. I urge all of you to pick up the final copy (sure to be a valuable addition to any library) and read the closing note, which explains that this decision arises not simply from Staley's desire to take a well-deserved rest from forty years of continuous editorial work but from the frustrating reluctance of the Joyce Estate to grant the kind of permissions necessary to sustain the Annual's original intentions. Designed originally to publish lengthier work on archival, biographical, and textual topics, this mission has long been hindered by our inability to quote at any length from manuscripts, archives, and other unpublished materials. I, for one, will miss not only the handsomely bound blue volumes that arrive in the mail each year around this time, but the stalwart presence of Staley's sure editorial hand. The JJQ will endeavor to carry on the work of the Annual, though we also realize that we can never fully replace it. Please take a moment to thank Staley, should you happen to see him on his many travels, for the service he has done us all. I look forward to seeing many of you in Dublin and hope that Bloomsday finds you with a copy of Ulysses in your hands. Let us all raise a glass to Stephen, Molly, Bloom, and the good genius who gave them to us. Sean Latham University of Tulsa