Raising the Wind At the 2003 North American James Joyce Conference here at the University of Tulsa , participants were urged to consider their work in relationship to both the promises and pitfalls of what has become known as the “Joyce industry.” For at least the last three decades, an array of major and minor conferences have provided both the inspiration and opportunity for the dissemination of new scholarly work on Joyce. Organs such as the JJQ, the James Joyce Broadsheet, the James Joyce Literary Supplement, the Joyce Studies Annual, Hypermedia Joyce Studies, and even a book series from the University Press of Florida have provided outlets for the publication of this work. I know of no other author in English—aside from William Shakespeare—around whose work such a massive scholarly apparatus has been assembled and maintained. Indeed, the very breadth and diversity of this industry has proven to be its singular strength, providing space and opportunity for innovation and debate while capably tolerating often sharp disagreement. Many, of course, often despair at the thought of what we have collectively wrought as they cast their eyes over those many library shelves filled with scholarly tomes or the more than 160 individual volumes that the JJQ alone has now produced. Sometimes this concern comes from frustrated students who fear they will never find anything “original” to say about Joyce, or from colleagues and friends who look on Joyceans as some sort of scholarly mafia requiring secret rites of initiation. Even among Joyce scholars themselves such concerns periodically arise, most recently expressed by Derek Attridge who writes in Joyce Effects of “the ease with which we forget what has been written, and write it over and over again, using a new vocabulary to articulate the same insights.” The industry, in other words, may have grown so large that it has begun to threaten itself, mistaking innovation for mere repetition, diversity for sheer cacophony. The 2003 conference was organized as a fortieth birthday party for JJQ, the longest-running organ of the Joyce industry and thus also perhaps the entity most worthy of either praise or blame for this state of affairs. At panels and addresses throughout the week, many of us reflected on the institutions of Joyce scholarship itself, attending to the structures which produce and enable our work while also looking forward to the emergence of a “post-industrial Joyce.” The wide selection of papers gathered together in this special double issue of JJQ all grapple with this challenge, either by critically examining the history of Joyce studies itself or by carving out new models of reading and interpretation. Though typically presented on different panels, these carefully selected essays have been divided here into three sections: The Industry; In the Works; and Re-Toolings. The first of these examines particular aspects of the Joyce industry that have evolved over the last four decades and the crucial role they have played in sustaining the larger enterprise. This section begins with an essay by Clive Hart entitled “James Joyce’s Sentimentality,” which was initially published in Philological Quarterly in 1967. In a brief introduction, Robert Scholes explains that this piece had considerable difficulty reaching print, in part because it sought to treat Joyce as a sentimental writer at a moment when most scholars were defending his intellectual and aesthetic rigor. Scholes and Hart alike thus remind us that there may be some profit in returning to earlier criticism, not to rewrite it, but to discover those scholarly paths which were briefly glimpsed but left largely unexplored. Next, a series of essays by Rosa Maria Bollettieri Bosinelli, David Pierce, Jolanta Wawrzycka, and Karen Lawrence all reflect on the history of importance of translation in the creation, expansion, and maintenance of the Joyce industry. Joyce studies has always been an international affair, deeply influenced not only by readers and critics from many traditions, but by the transnational nature of the literary works themselves. In examining both the theory and history of translation, therefore, these short yet incisive pieces insist on the creative reach of Joyce’s work beyond the English language. The opening section of the issue concludes with the history of yet another vital scholarly institution: the James Joyce Checklist. In this piece, the JJQ’s current bibliographer, William S. Brockman, traces the evolution of this long-running list of primary and secondary sources which has kept us all aware of the vast reach of Joyce’s works. As Brockman notes, these quarterly bibliographies provide a Wake-like narrative of the field itself, enabling us to glimpse patterns coalesce and fade amidst the vast flow of scholarship. Having taken some measure of the Joyce industry itself, the issue next turns to a series of short essays exemplifying some of the newest trends currently emerging from within our industrial works. These papers have been only moderately revised and appear here much as they did at the conference itself: terse yet incisive examinations of evolving perspectives on Joyce’s work. The section begins with Sheldon Brivic’s piece, which brings Slavoj Žižek’s Lacanian-inflected theories of fantasy to bear on the psychic life of Stephen Dedalus in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. In the next two pieces, first Margot Norris then Joseph Kestner contribute to the growing body of work on Joyce and visual culture. Norris treats Joseph Strick’s 1967 film version of Ulysses as itself a kind of interpretive text, noting both the challenges presented by the intermediation of the written and cinematic texts as well as the rich interpretive possibilities opened by Strick’s innovative solutions. Looking backward to Victorian battle art rather than forward to avant-garde film, Kestner provides a richly illustrated study of the violent iconography of war and masculinity which flits in and out of Molly’s consciousness in the “Penelope” episode of Ulysses. This portion of the issue then concludes with two essays that thicken our narratives of Joyce’s historical moment, uncovering the contexts out of which some of his most revolutionary innovations evolved. Roy Gottfried in “The Church as Industry” examines the powerfully interlinked and hierarchical structures of the Catholic Church in Ireland , an institution which—as Geert Lernout recently noted—is a good deal more foreign after Vatican II than most critics have allowed. Joyce, Gottfried argues, powerfully characterizes both the complexity and the reach of this particular net from which Stephen Dedalus struggled to free himself. Shifting from religious institutions to secular folk traditions, Denise Tanyol argues that the English Mummers Plays help us better understand the narrative role of Buck Mulligan in Ulysses, whose comic antics throughout the book are actually quite carefully scripted. As Tanyol reminds us, there are traditions of popular culture from which Joyce drew that extend beyond the mass-produced entertainments of middlebrow literature and pantomime. The issue concludes with six essays that attempt to retool the basic structures of the Joyce industry precisely so that we can avoid any sense of premature foreclosure or desultory repetition. The section begins with a version of Karen Lawrence’s keynote address, “Close Encounters,” which asks us to consider the themes of hospitality and inclusiveness both in Joyce’s text and in our own critical works. This densely layered essay inquires into the boundaries our own critical activities necessarily create while also attempting to theorize about the structures of reading and cognition that allow us to move across these lines. The other essays in this section also implicitly share this concept of hospitality, and all of them look beyond the boundaries of the Joyce industry without either shattering them or merely appropriating other modes of reading and writing. Tim Conley in “Knock, Knock, Knocking at Joyce’s Door,” thus argues that even within the labyrinth of Finnegans Wake, Joyce “demonstrates avid interest in questions of accessibility and authority and dramatizes his consideration of them in the various scenes of knocks at the door, summonses, welcomes, and calls.” David Wright in “Dots Mark the Spot: Textual Gaps in Dubliners” and Thomas Jackson Rice in “Ulysses and the Kingdom of Shadows” both examine particularly vital exclusions in Joyce’s work: Wright directing our attention once more to those troubling ellipses in the short stories, while Rice draws upon the history of cinema to tease out those absent dead who could not be welcomed home from the catastrophic violence of the First World War. This pursuit of structural absence is followed by Mark Osteen’s attempt in “The Great Expectations of Stephen Dedalus” to reactivate those Victorian substrates within Joyce’s work that have been suppressed by an over-emphasis on the radical novelty of modernism. Hospitality in this case means not only opening Joyce studies to the next wave of theoretical or cultural criticism, but to the historical and cultural past as well. The final essay in this section, Paul Robichaud’s “Joyce, Vico, and National Narrative,” also emphasizes the themes of openness and hospitality Lawrence articulates, arguing that Finnegans Wake, in particular, offers “a meaningful engagement with some of the twentieth century’s most pressing questions of national identity and the historical experience of marginalized peoples.” This closing section thus reiterates the larger themes of the entire issue by stressing not only the vitality and creativity of the Joyce industry, but its own nearly unique hospitality. This sense of welcome means not only that multiple critical perspectives can be embraced, but that our engagement with them changes the structure of the whole in some small but fundamental way. If we can speak of a post-industrial Joyce, then it resides precisely in an institutional structure capable of tolerating change without losing the cohesion that has sustained both it and this journal for the last forty years.   News and Notes   Though few of us may have noticed, a new edition of Ulysses briefly appeared this year—part of a ten-volume boxed set entitled The Works of James Joyce and published in Bath by Robert Fredericks Ltd. Despite my best efforts, I have not been able to track down much information on this publisher, though the editions themselves have got to be unique. The volume containing Dubliners, for example, orders the stories alphabetically under the title The Collected Stories while Ulysses and Finnegans Wake are carved up into a hodgepodge of chapters designed to make sure that each of the ten volumes remains uniform in length. In a letter to the editor in this issue, Fritz Senn describes this oddity in a good deal more detail. As he notes—and as was also reported by the TLS—the Joyce Estate successfully sued Robert Fredericks Ltd. for infringing its copyrights and won a hefty £10,000 in damages in addition to costs. Other news on the publishing front is a good deal better as I have recently learned of two new journals devoted to Irish studies, a new book series, and an intriguing new collection of essays. The first of these, an annual entitled the Field Day Review, is edited by Seamus Deane and Breandán Mac Suibhne with the support of the Keough Institute at the University of Notre Dame. The first number has just been published and contains an essay on Joyce by Luke Gibbons as well as a previously unknown interview with Brendan Behan. Subscriptions can be obtained through amazon.co.uk for £25. In addition, this fall will see the appearance of An Sionnach: A Journal of Literature, Culture, and the Art from Creighton University Press. Edited by David Gardiner (with the assistance of former JJQ-intern Nainsí Houston), the journal will publish scholarly articles, creative works, and reviews focused on all aspects of contemporary Irish Studies. It will appear twice yearly, and inquiries should be directed to David Gardiner, An Sionnach, Creighton University , Omaha , NE 68178 , USA . I am also pleased to announce that Claire Culleton, Professor English at Kent State University and author most recently of Joyce and the G-Men, has just been named the editor of Palgrave Macmillan’s new series in Irish and Irish-American literature. Inquiries from prospective authors should be directed by email to <cculleto@kent.edu>. Finally, Conor Wyer from Queen’s University, Belfast, Ilaria Natali from the University of Florence, and Sarah McLemore from the University of California, Santa Barbara, are co-editing a collection of essays on Joyce by graduate students and emerging scholars to be entitled A New Book of Morses: Encoding Joyce in the 21st Century. They are currently accepting abstracts, and I have included an advertisement including a call for submissions at the end of this issue. Taken together, these ventures offer new and exciting outlets not only for Joyce scholars, but for the larger field of Irish Studies as well. We heartily welcome them all to the field. I am also pleased to announce that a small but significant resource for students of both Joyce and Irish Studies is now available. The Modernist Journals Project has recently prepared a freely available edition of Dana, the little magazine published in Dublin from 1904-1905 and edited by John Eglinton (W. K. Magee) and Frederick Ryan. These rare documents, which include one of Joyce’s very first publications, are fully searchable and preserve the look and feel of the original issues. They can be accessed through the MJP web portal at <http://www.modjourn.brown.edu/>. This year’s North American James Joyce Conference was held at Cornell University in Ithaca , New York , and was a rousing success. Over 200 participants were on hand to hear a wide array of keynote addresses and conference papers. Of particular note was the lecture by M. H. Abrams entitled “An Unlikely Story: The Joyce Collection at Cornell,” which related the acquisition of the rich archival materials now held by the University’s special collections. Some of these materials were mounted beautifully as part of an exhibition entitled “James Joyce: From Dublin to Ithaca .” An on-line version is currently available at <http://rmc.library.cornell.edu/joyce/introduction/index.html>. For those who wish to make the trip in person, the exhibition will remain up until 12 October of this year. This was, of course, only part of a memorable week, and I want to add my voice to the many others who have congratulated Jim LeBlanc and our own William Brockman for the effort they put into organizing this event. News of upcoming conferences has lately been rolling in from all sides. From 2-4 February 2006, the Miami Joyce Conference will again return to Coral Gables under the title of “In the Track of the Sun.” Michael Gillespie, the academic organizer, invites panel, roundtable, and paper submissions on all aspects of Joyce’s work and life, though he is particularly interested in work that comments on new currents in Ulysses criticism. Inquiries should be directed by email to <michael.gillespie@mu.edu> while information about the conference can be found on-line at <http://www.as.miami.edu/english/jjls/jjls.htm>. This is typically a lively yet intimate event, and I urge anyone who has not made this wintertime pilgrimage to attempt the trip. The next International James Joyce Symposium is now officially scheduled to take place in Hungary from 10-17 June 2006. Much of the academic program will take place in Budapest before participants move to Szombathely for a Bloomsday celebration and other events. The academic program will be organized by Brandon Kershner. In addition, the next North American James Joyce Conference will take place in 2007 at the University of Texas , Austin , and will be organized by a committee chaired by Charles Rossman. Details on both of these upcoming events will be available soon. I close with news of both a death and a resurrection. On 31 May 2005, A. Norman Jeffares died at the age of 84. He was best known to all of us as one of the greatest Yeats scholars, editing collections of the poet’s works and letters; contributing a major biography; and preparing the still standard annotations, A New Commentary on the Poetry of W. B. Yeats. As a schoolboy he stubbornly succeeded in soliciting a poem from Yeats for a student magazine before moving on to take degrees from Trinity College , Dublin , and Oxford . He held teaching and research positions throughout the Commonwealth, assuming chairs at Adelaide , Leeds, and Stirling before retiring. His legacy lies not only in the many books and editions he left us, nor in the journal Ariel which he founded, but in the legions of scholars and critics who now travel in his wake. Tim Finnegan, I am sorry to say, has not returned to us from the dead, but I am very pleased to learn that I laid Bewley’s too early to rest in announcing its closure. Reliable sources in Dublin now tell me that the store has once again opened under new management, though without all of its former glories. In this case, I am glad to be mistaken. I close by urging those of our readers who have been following with bated breath the serial installments of Sweets of Sin to pay particular attention to the issue’s contributors’ notes, where our “Gentleman of Fashion” is at last revealed. Sean Latham University of Tulsa