James Joyce: 1932-1942

The pace of Lucia’s decline into schizophrenia now began to quicken. In March the tokens of a crush on Samuel Beckett she displayed led him to declare that he only visited to see her father. It was generally felt that she needed to find a husband (the alternative of a lover was not considered) and Paul Léon bullied his young brother-in-law Alex Ponisovsky into making a proposal. After a miserable engagement party at the Drouand Restaurant, Lucia passed into a catatonic state in the Léon’s flat and the engagement was soon forgotten. At the end of April the Joyce planned to return to London at Lucia’s apparent urging - their lease at rue St. Philibert was almost up in any case - but at the railway station she threw a fit and refused to travel. After nine days spent in bed at the Léons, Lucia chose to move in with the Colums and was there examined by a psychiatrist in a series of disguised interviews in which Mary pretended to be the patient, as required by Joyce. This resulted in Lucia’s being taken to Dr. Maillard’s clinic and diagnosed as ‘hebephrenic’ (i.e, incipient schizophrenic) shortly afterwards. During May 1932 the Joyces briefly lived at Hôtel Byron on Champs-Elysées before taking a flat at 42 rue Galilée. At the beginning of July, Joyce removed Lucia from Maillard’s clinic and took her to the Jolases at Feldkirch while he himself attended Prof. Zogt in nearby Zurich. The specialist now deferred a planned operation in view the apparent risk of traumatic iritis. While in Zurich, Joyce considered taking Lucia to Carl Jung but sent her to a clinic in Vence with a nurse instead, travelling with Nora to nearby Nice soon after and remaining there until late October. Before leaving Zurich Joyce received an invitation from Yeats to join his newly-formed Academy of Irish Letters & Medals. This was refused after a month’s reflection on the grounds that he lacked the right to nominate himself and questioning why his name ‘should have arisen at all’ given his ‘case’ (that is, his position vis-à-vis the Irish people). In spite of urgings from the Colums, James Stephens and other friends, Joyce was not going to be so easily reabsorbed by Ireland.

Racked with anxiety over Lucia, he worked on through the autumn with the children’s chapter of “Work in Progress” (II.i.). The mordant humour of its celebrated conclusion - ‘Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low’ - triumphantly reflects its author’s humour at that period. Back in Paris and now ensconced at rue Galilée, the Joyces took on a girl to help Nora with Lucia in the morning, and then another in the afternoon. By way of therapy, Joyce bought his daughter an expensive fur-coat and then fabricated royalties of 1,000frs. for her artistic contribution to a facsimile ‘manuscript’ edition of Pomes Penyeach, issued in October 1932. Deteriorating relations with Sylvia Beach and Adrienne Monnier, chiefly arising from the unamiable manoeuvre by which he secured the world rights to Ulysses on the eve of George’s marriage, resulted in a wounding letter from Monnier on behalf of both. Joyce was then engaged in negotiating a European edition of Ulysses with the Paris agents of the Hamburg-based Albatross Press which resulted in the appearance of the Odyssey Edition of 1932, having been seen through the press by Stuart Gilbert. He hoped that Faber would publish it in England but T. S. Eliot thought only a selection in the Criterion Miscellany series would pass the censor and Joyce refused to be censored in this pre-emptive way. Jonathan Cape and Werner Laurie were offered Ulysses and then John Lane, who accepted, although his printer deflected the intention for the usual reason until autumn 1936, when the Bodley Head edition finally appeared on 3 October. In November 1932, Joyce completed work on “Mime of Mick, Nick and Maggies” [FW II.i; pp.219-59], and in December Faber issued Tales Told of Shem and Shaun [FW 152-59, 282-304, 414-19]. Meanwhile there were overtures from Warner Brothers for the film rights of Ulysses, giving Joyce occasion to express a preference for George Arliss over Charles Laughton in the role of Leopold Bloom. (the project came to nothing and Ulysses would not be filmed until Robert Strick produced an provisional version-black and white and devoid of contemporary stage-sets - in 1967.)

In January 1933 a performance by Sullivan in Sigurd drew the Joyces in company with the Jolases and René-Ulysse (a nephew of the king of Cambodia) to Rouen and when Joyce submitted to an bout of stress-related illness, Lucia evinced an unnerving sympathy. In May the Joyces travelled to Zurich with their friends the Giedions, bringing Lucia with them. Joyce he had a strong premonition that further surgery would result in blindness and Vogt deferred operating though the right eye had by now calcified. The Joyces stayed at Évian-les-Bains, returning to Zurich in mid-July 1933, when Lucia was examined by Prof. Hans. W. Maier of the Zurich Mental Asylum, resulting in her lodgement in a sanatorium managed by a Dr. Forel at Nyon. Finding this unbearable, Joyce withdrew her on 6 August and returned, returning to Paris in early September 1933. There work continued on “Night Lessons” but also on Budgen’s book, James Joyce and the Making of Ulysses, shortly to appear. Gilbert received Joyce’s advice with his translation of Dujardin’s Les lauriers sont coupés also, but Gorman, frustrated by a lack of access to the necessary materials and annoyed at being treated as a hagiographer, had bogged down so badly that Joyce temporarily withdrew his authorisation for the biography. Judge Woolsey’s verdict in favour of Cerf in November 1933, soon to result in the publication of Ulysses in January 1934, inspired some jubilation and at Christmas Joyce sent his friend Con Curran a vintage case of S. Patrice Clos. Then, on his birthday in the new year, Lucia struck Nora in the wake of a period during which she shocked visitors by talking with distressing freedom about imagined sexual affairs, a painful decision was reached: accompanied by a nurse she was sent back to the sanatorium at Nyon where her state deteriorated gravely after an initial period of calm.

Miss Weaver arrived in Paris in March 1934 in an attempt to put Joyce’s affairs in order and insisted that he revisit Dr. Vogt for the necessary operation. This he did, travelling by way of Monte-Carlo in the touring car belonging to the industrialist René Bailly and his Galway wife. Vogt permitted a postponement of the operation until September, when the Joyces would return to Zurich for three months. Back in Paris in April, Joyce employed Madame France Raphael to recover notebook material from Ulysses for use in “Work in Progress” - a two-year task that was shortly interrupted when she suffered a car-accident at the end of the month. Robert McAlmon’s autobiography Being Geniuses Together, being read to Joyce at this time, made Joyce feel ‘actionable’ on account of the references to their drinking bouts. On 19 May George and Helen sails for America, where John McCormack would find him an opportunity to broadcast with National Broadcasting Corporation (NBC) in December and an interview with New Yorker, though the overwhelming preference for Irish tenors with Irish songs did not suit him. In June the Servire Press issued The Mime of Mick Nick and the Maggies [FW 219-59] at the Hague with Lucia’s art-work on cover, initial capital and tailpiece. (As before, Joyce rendered part of the royalties to her though probably taken from his own share.) On 12 July 1934 Joyce signed out a lease on a spacious fifth-floor flat at 7 rue Edmond Valentin, near the Eiffel Tour, and then travelled to Spa in Belgium, pending occupancy, afterwards moving on to and afterwards to Luxembourg, Metz and Nancy before reaching Switzerland at the end of August 1934. There they learned that Lucia’s symptoms had worsened. On 15 September she set fire to her room and was transferred to Asylum soon after. Joyce was able to have her moved to a private sanatorium at Küsnacht where Carl Jung was a consultant. Having long refused professional services from the ‘Tweedledum’ of Zurich, Joyce had now to thank him when he received a moving letter from Lucia in October 1934. Writing in Italian, she apologises for the pain she caused him. Unfortunately she could not retain her hold on reality and nor could Jung retain the confidence of her father. Offering the view that Lucia was his anima inspiratrix, Jung diagnosing Joyce as a latent schizoid for good measure. Joyce was profoundly melancholic at this time, doubting if ‘anything was ahead of us but ruin’, as he wrote to Budgen in December. With little evidence of improvement, he set Lucia up with a nurse in mid-January 1935 at a villa attached to his hotel, the Carlton Élite, returning with her to Paris at the end of the month. About this time Nora destroyed the letters she had received from Joyce on the grounds that ‘they were nobody’s business’ but her own.

Lucia now expressed a wish to stay with Miss Weaver, who had offered shelter in London. In order to effect this plan, Eileen Schaurek accompanied her to London and then went on to Ireland, where she now lived. After her departure Lucia became unmanageable and so Eileen was called over in March to bring her to Ireland. There she stayed with her aunt and cousins in Bray, where Eileen had opened a boarding-house called “Ulysses” but again proved uncontrollable and on one occasion made a fire outside the grate ‘to smell the turf’. (Bray Head reminded her of her father.) An unplanned departure from home in order to visit her aunt Kathleen in Galway ended bizarrely with their running into each other in the GPO in Dublin, and when she absconded a second time she was located six days later because the Garda had detained her in a state of disarray. At this point she asked to be placed in a nursing home and was installed in one at Finglas in North County Dublin. In these straits, Joyce sent Maria Jolas to assess the situation. Con Curran with his wife then conveyed her to London where she was put in charge of Miss Weaver once again. There, at Joyce’s request Lucia received a five-week course of glandular injections from a Harley Street psychiatrist with a post at St. Andrew’s, Northampton, before travelling with Miss Weaver and a nurse to convalesce in Reigate. Throughout this period Joyce strenuously resisted the idea that she was mad or that her fixation on him was anything more than the hyper-sensitivity of an affection daughter for whose disordered state of mind he felt immense responsibility and a profound compassion. His letters to Miss Weaver were a mixture of anger and scepticism at the disturbing information given him while she, attempting to meet is requirement that Lucia be spoken of as normal, understated the real extremity of her behaviour. In November, Maria Jolas was asked to travel to London to report again; in mid-December Lucia was taken to Northampton for further treatment. Since Joyce was unwilling to sign a certificate authorising her retention, it was necessary for Mme Jolas to go forth again and take her back to Paris, as she did at the end of February, taking her to her establishment at Neuilly. Three weeks later Lucia was removed in a strait-jacket after further violent behaviour and categorised ‘dangerous’ by officials at le Vésinet and threatened with incarceration in a state asylum. Joyce was able to have her transferred to a hôtel de santé run by Dr Achille Delmas at Ivry-sur-Seine, there to remain until 1951 excepting a period of evacuation to Pornichet during the war.

Faced with such problems, Joyce experienced recurrent attacks of colitis and demanded that George and Helen come back from America in November to help him cope with the situation. A stay with Gorman and his wife at Fontainbleu during late summer 1935 provided some relief from the strain of keeping up with Lucia’s inexorable descent into ‘the abyss of insanity’, as he now called it. Money was also a problem: with sales of 33,000 in the first quarter the Random House edition of Ulysses began to bring in royalties but the cost of Lucia’s treatment had forced Joyce to sell off Miss Weaver’s stock at low prices to the indignation of her solicitors. Still it was not enough and Joyce turned to her for help, writing ‘if you have ruined yourself for me [...]why will you blame me if I ruin myself for my daughter?’ (9 June 1936). In August the Joyces planned a holiday without notifying Lucia, whose hysterical fits were clearly linked to her father’s movements. They stayed first to Calvados with the Baillys, Joyce sending his only children’s story (“The Cats of Beaugency”) in a letter from there to Stephen, and then travelled to Copenhagen where his literary conversation was very fully captured by one Öle Vinding, a journalist masquerading as an artist who obligingly showed him round the city. Several local literati, whom he met after making himself known in a book-shop, registered astonishment at his excellent Danish. By returns, the Joyces were much impressed by a production of Délibes Coppélia at the opera, while an unbidden call was made on Mrs Kastor Hanson to instruct her to ‘leave nothing out’ of her translation of Ulysses. Joyce also met the anthropologist Lucien Lévy-Bruhl, then visiting Copenhagen, before travelling on to Bonn, where he gave an account of “Work in Progress” to the scholar Ernst Robert Curtius. By mid-September the Joyces were back in Paris, venturing out again to visit Stanislaus in Zurich before the end of the month. Having received an expulsion order from Italy in response to a British like-measure against an Italian in Malta, Stanislaus had also lost his university post in Trieste although the order was rescinded through the influence of friends. When he expressed concern the gathering clouds in Europe, Joyce barked back: ‘Don’t talk to me of politics, all I am interested in is style.’ He was not so indifferent that he did not help Herman Broch to reach England in March 1938 but his unwillingness to protest against Nazism in print remained a matter of disappointment to several of his friends. In Zurich, Joyce managed to get Stanislaus an unappetising teaching offer in a remote canton, which was understandably refused. He was later reinstated in his old post in Trieste, remaining there until the outbreak of war when he was forced to move to Florence.

With Lucia safe at Ivry - where he weekly visits through the year - oyce was more relaxed than for some years previously, expressing himself on life and literature with uncharacteristic freedom to friends and visitors, among them Hannah Sheehy-Skeffington from Ireland. Blandishments were not enough since Joyce still feared what Catholic Ireland would do if he placed himself in its hands, as he made clear to in answers to Curran during July and August. When James Stephen dissented from the spirit of Henrik Ibsen’s art as met with in a copy of Little Eyolf that Joyce sent him, there was barely a murmur of reproof, though the pact of literary heirship silently unravelled. Joyce spent much time in 1937 conferring with Nino Frank about the Italian translation of “Anna Livia Plurabelle”, as well as with George Pelorson who was translating Pomes Penyeach into French for Jean Paulhan, proprietor of Mesures. Samuel Beckett was also in his company much after his return to Paris at the end of 1937. In June Joyce was invited to the P.E.N. Club dinner in Paris as guest of honour and made a speech there about the importance of the recent American recognition of intellectual property rights in a court decision. (America was not a subscriber to the Bern Convention.) This was listened to respectfully and noted for the minutes though Joyce evidently expected something more. In the interim the Joyces made a trip to Zurich in August-September brought assurances from Dr. Zogt that Joyce would not lose his eyesight. Storiella As She Is Syung was published by the Corvinus Press in London in October 1937, contain passages from “Night Lessons” [II.ii] which had earlier appeared in transition in July 1935 [FW 260-75; 304-08].

George and Helen left for America in December 1937 to attend a family funeral and returned in April 1938, when Joyce offered to travel to Cherbourg (or even the Azores) to meet them. Meanwhile “Work in Progress” was drawing to conclusion with galley proofs, page proofs and the last manuscript pages of Book IV keeping Joyce occupied for sixteen hours a day, by his own estimation. In the summer of 1938 he received literary help from James Johnson Sweeney, an art critic, who read out the manuscript and recorded his latest insertions. Already the title, which had long been a secret that Joyce shared only with Nora (though he had previously invited Miss Weaver to guess it), became the object of a prize of 1,000frs. Eugene Jolas was to claim it on 2 August 1938 when, in response to increasingly broad hints, he guessed the title of the song on which Joyce’s agrammatical title is based. Later that month the Joyces quit Paris, travelling with the Léons to Lausanne. Jacques Mercanton, an admirer of Finnegans Wake who lived there was groomed now to play the exegetical part in relation to the Wake that Stuart Gilbert had earlier played in relation to Ulysses. While in Switzerland a visit was made to Helen Joyce at Montreux, where she was recovering from the first of several nervous breakdowns. In Zurich Joyce was advised to take X-ray tests after a severe attack of stomach cramps but returned to Paris instead under the impending clouds of war. After a trip to Dieppe Joyce and Nora travelled to La Baule, where Dr. Delmas planned to evacuated his patients. When the crisis was defused by the Munich Pact at the end of September the Joyces returned to Paris. In the fraught atmosphere of those days, the last passage of Finnegans Wake was composed, ending on 13 November 1938 with the inscription of ‘un rien, l’article the’ as Joyce told Louis Gillet. Joyce’s sense of pride and of relief was such that, for some days after, he carried the manuscript with him when he dined with friends at restaurants. A moment of panic was experienced when Léon inadvertently left the page-proofs of a section of the Wake in a taxi, but these were mercifully returned and duly sent on to the printer.

Joyce had hoped to publish Finnegans Wake on his father’s birthday in 1938, but this was not to be. Instead, several unbound copies reached him on 30 January, two days after the death of W. B. Yeats (which elicited a wreathe from him) and just in time for his fifty-seventh anniversary on 2 February 1939. Helen, now recovered, had a cake made with Nelson’s Pillar, the Eiffel Tower, the Life and the Seine along with Joyce’s seven books, all formed in icing. Faber in London and the Viking Press in New York simultaneously published his latest work on 4 May 1939. By this date the Germans had invaded Czechoslovakia and the Joyces move to 34 rue Des Vines. In June Joyce sent a stern letter to Herbert Gorman taking issue with the account of his relationship with his father, his ‘marriage’ to Nora in 1904 and some other matters including Lucia’s illness at variance with his own sanitised account. The points of difference were easily remedied when the typescript reached him though Joyce own additions and deletions detracted from whatever humour that stilted biography might possess. In late July the Joyces visited their grandson Stephen at his summer-camp in Étretat, and after that they went to see Helen, once again in hospital in Switzerland (George remaining on in Paris). In Lausanne Joyce once more met with Mercanton before travelling on to Bern and Zurich before returning to Paris in late August. Hearing that Dr. Delmas was once more preparing to evacuate his patients to La Baule, the Joyces made their way there to anticipate Lucia but were frustrated by a hitch in the arrangements. When war was declared on 2 September they were laying plans to place her in an alternative establishment which Delmas condemned for its lack of facilities; equally, the roads were no longer easily negotiable to civilians. Remaining on in Normandy, the Joyces passed an evening in a restaurant with French and English soldiers who set the writer standing on a table to sing “La Marseilles” as soon as they his fine tenor was noticed. Soon Delmas found alternative accommodation in nearby Pornichet and there the Joyces greeted Lucia. Having heard from the Léons that George and Helen’s marriage was about to collapse (George insisting that her brother be called to take her to America), the Joyces returned to Paris on 15 October 1939 and found lodging at the Hôtel Lutétia. Joyce’s sense of family loyalty was antagonised by the Léons’ insistence that his son’s lack of affection was the cause of Helen’s illness, and this led to his instructing Léon to return his legal papers to him through Ponisovsky. Soon Helen was hospitalised at Suresnes before returning to America in May 1940, where she afterwards divorced George and remained up to her death in 1963. Stephen Joyce was now taken in by his grand-parents at Hôtel Lutétia but soon afterward sent to Maria Jolas at her school in the chateau of La Chapelle at St. Gérand-le-Puy, near Vichy. At Christmas the Joyces accept her offer of shelter and on Christmas Eve they took up accommodation at the modest Hôtel de la Paix in St. Gérand, accompanied by George, though soon after he returned to Paris, where his unknown movements distressed the Joyces.

On reaching St. Gérand, Joyce experienced stomach cramps which prevented him eating Christmas dinner though he did consume some white wine and become lively enough to sing from his repertoire of Irish songs and dance with Maria Jolas. In the main he was to remain morose throughout his stay in that rural neighbourhood. (Dogs were a problem that he countered with a pocketful of stones, professing that he disliked them because they ‘had no souls’. At April, when there was room in the school building, Mme Jolas invited the Joyces to stay at La Chapelle. There were joined there by a sudden influx of refugees at the fall of Paris to the Germans (14 April). These included Beckett, who arrived with a useless Irish cheque that Joyce got Valéry Larbaud to cash for him, and George Pelorson, on his way to join the army and whom Joyce told that his next work would be ‘very simple and short’ in answer to a question o the matter. After the Easter vacation at La Chapelle, the Joyces moved to Vichy, finding accommodation at the Hôtel Beaujolais until it was requisitioned by the incoming Vichy government.. Returning to La Chapelle with Léon’s wife Lucie and her father and sister-in-law, to be followed soon by Paul Léon, arriving on an ass-cart. A summer flat temporarily vacated by the tenant, who was in hospital, was now found in the village. When she returned, the Joyce’s moved into the Hôtel du Commerce but reoccupied it after her death, which occurred on 10 June while Joyce was keeping vigil to relieve Maria Jolas (who was the mainstay of the émigré community). George Joyce arrived about this time also and for the remainder of the Joyces stay in Vichy played cat-and-mouse with the authorities as the only member of the contingent of combatant years. For six days in June the Germans occupied the village but George, not having registered at the Mairie, was not officially noticed. Joyce passed his time preparing corrections for Finnegans Wake with Léon (or ‘adding commas’, as he told Pelorson), the two having reached a reconciliation on a walk together immediately after Léon’s arrival. Joyce told Homeric stories to his grandson Stephen on the latter’s weekly visits from the school at La Chapelle. His anxiety about Lucia, who was living in fear of bombs in Normandy, caused him to make plans with Dr. Delmas for her evacuation to Corcelles in Switzerland and in early August he secured permission from the German authorities for this arrangement. Returning from Marseilles with visas for departure to America via Portugal, Maria Jolas informed Joyce that the consul Robert Murphy thought it possible to get the Joyces out by plane, but he neither liked the mode of transport or the new-world destination and began to make his own plans to escape to Switzerland. Mme Jolas departed on 28 August taking with her the corrections for Finnegans Wake. Lucie Léon had already left for Paris, where she still had an office; her husband Paul parted with the Joyces to join her in September. Arriving in Paris he set about saving Joyce’s papers at rue de Vignes and managed to rescue other contents of the flat illegally auctioned by Joyce’s landlord, depositing both with the Count O’Kelly, the Irish consul, on understanding that they should be given to National Library of Ireland if he did not return to collect them. In 1941, on the day following his son’s baccalauréat, Paul Léon fell into the hands of the Gestapo and was murdered by a concentration-camp guard in April 1942.

When Joyce’s funds in Paris were seized by the government in retaliation for a similar measure in London, Miss Weaver arranged for an income of £30 a month to reach him through the Irish legation at Vichy from October. On 13 September 1940 he made an application for Swiss visas through the consulate at Lyons. This was refused by the Federal Aliens’ Police in Switzerland on the grounds - as it turned out - that he was thought to be a Jew. Jacques Mercanton signed the necessary deposition denying this and many others, including Professor Vogt, the Giedions and the Mayor Emil Klötti came to his support so that, after much to-ing and fro-ing, a visa was granted at the consulate in Vichy on 9 November 1940. Success had ultimately turned on the fact that Edmund Brauchbar - a student of Joyce’s in 1915 but now a businessman in America whom he had prudently contacted in August - instructed his son to make the required deposit of 20,000 francs in a Zurich bank for which Joyce’s friend Paul Ruggiero still worked. (It was Ruggiero who galvanised a support-group, for which Joyce’s thanked him on meeting with the acknowledgement that his help had been impayable.) Permission for the Joyces to leave France was secured by Armand Petitjean and Louis Gillet, who travelled to St. Gérand and brought the prestige of the Acadèmie Française to bear on officialdom in Vichy. The Joyces, father and son, momentarily toyed with the idea of accepting Irish citizenship for the sake of neutrality but rejected it; and when they presented their these were briskly stamped in spite of lacking of a permis de sortie for George, an official perceptibly winking at him in the process. Lucia’s passport was included since Joyce still intended to take her with him. A further difficulty arose as since the senior Joyces’ passports were found to be out of date but George persuaded the American chargé d’affaires to extend them. He then had to haggle for petrol to facilitate car-transport to the station, carrying this back in a can by bicycle before the Joyces could depart on December 14 1940, as they did from Saint-Germain des Fossés where they had arrived eleven months earlier at 3.00 a.m. in the morning. Joyce felt sure that he could arrange Lucia’s departure better from Switzerland, since her exit permit had already expired, as their own Swiss visas would do if they delayed a day longer.

The Joyces’ route took them via Aix-les-Bains to Geneva where they stayed overnight at the Hotel Richmond. Customs officials confiscated Stephen’s bicycle at the border and a bottle of ink split in a suit-case in transit. On the on the following day they travelling to Lausanne and there Joyce met with Jacques Mercanton and made enquiries about a suitable sanatorium for Lucia. Arriving in Zurich on 17 December, they dined at the station with Ruggiero and the Giedions before settling in their rooms at the Pension Delphin. Joyce issued messages of thanks to those who had assisted him and sent the lengthy correspondence concerned with his departure from wartime France to James Johnson Sweeney in New York. In the afternoons he walked in the snow with Stephen and stopped on one occasion to buy him books on Greek mythology and on another occasion an artificial Christmas tree for the pension. The Joyces were guests of the Giedions at 7 Doldertal on Christmas evening. On 7 January Joyce sent his last written communication, a card with a list of useful names for Stanislaus who had been forced to move to Florence. After Ruggiero’s birthday dinner at Kronenhalle on 10 January, he suffered acute abdominal pains - the ‘cramps’ that had been troubling him periodically for many years. When a dose of morphine administered by the doctor George had called prove inadequate he was carried to Schwesterhaus vom Roten Kreuz, ‘writhing like a fish’ on the stretcher, according to his grandson’s memory of the event. X-ray revealed a perforated duodenal ulcer and - after George persuaded his father to accept this offer, batting off fears of cancer and financial anxieties together - an operation was performed by Dr. H. Freysz on 12 January. Joyce woke from anaesthetic and appeared to be recovering but started losing strength on Sunday and was given blood transfusions. Before Nora and George were sent away by the medical staff, he asked for Nora to lie down beside him. At 1.00 a.m. he woke and asked for them before slipping into a coma. James Joyce died at 2.15 a.m. on 13 January 1941 before his family could arrive. Joyce was buried at Fluntern Cemetery on 15 January, Nora refusing Catholic rites to be performed over him. The expenses of the funeral were paid by Miss Weaver who re-addressed to Nora the sum of £250 she was preparing to send to him. At the graveside were the British Minister Lord Derwent, who made an address, the poet Max Geillinger, Professor Heinrich Straumann, and Max Meilor, a tenor, who sang “ Addio terra, addio cielo”.

Nora Joyce stayed on in Zurich until her death in 1951 and was buried near her husband. Stanislaus Joyce died in 1955 on 16 June (“Bloomsday”). George Joyce married Dr. Asta Jahnke-Osterwalder after his divorce and died 1976 at Konstantz in West Germany (as it then was). Lucia received the news of her father’s death with all the marks of her condition and a curious echo of Joyce’s theme in his last book saying, ‘What is he doing under the ground, the idiot? When will he decide to come out? He is watching us all the time’. Up to her death she remained at St. Andrew’s in Northampton under legal guardianship of Harriet Shaw Weaver, and after her death in 1961, that of Miss Jane Lidderdale. Samuel Beckett was as considerate visitor down the years. Stephen Joyce followed the career as an economist with the Unesco in Paris and interests himself strenuous in the management of the Joyce estate.

Before her death Mrs Joyce ensured that Miss Weaver would donated the manuscript of Finnegans Wake to the British Museum rather than to the National Library of Ireland in view of offer to permit the repatriation of her husband’s body being turned down by the Irish government. Joyce’s family portraits and many of his papers are held at the Lockwood Memorial Library of the New York State University [SUNY] at Buffalo. The manuscript of Stephen Hero, being among them, was edited and introduced by Theodore Spencer in 1944 and revised by John J. Slocum & Herbert Cahoon to incorporate some additional pages supplied by Stanislaus Joyce in 1956. The fair-copy manuscript of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is held in the National Library of Ireland while a definitive edition of the novel based on it was published in America in 1964 (1968 in the United Kingdom). Joyce’s essays, lectures, extant notebooks and reviews were edited by Ellsworth Mason and Richard Ellmann as The Critical Writings in 1957. Manuscript and typescript materials for all of Joyce’s work were been published in facsimile by Garland Press as The James Joyce Archive (1977-79). The poetry collections with sundry shorter writings including the 1904 “Portrait Essay” were collected by Ellmann as Poems and Shorter Writings in 1990, a further critical compilation being issued Kevin Barry as Occasional, Critical and Political Writings in 2000. Joyce’s letters were edited by Stuart Gilbert in 1957, two further volumes appearing under the hand of Richard Ellmann in 1966), to be followed by the Selected Letters in 1975. In 1984 the Garland Press issued a controversial “A Critical and Synoptic Edition” of Ulysses, edited by Hans Walter Gabler using the concept of a ‘genetic text’ incorporating all variants in working manuscripts, typescripts, complete editions and serial publications whether within the direct line of textual transmission or otherwise. Finnegans Wake was reset by Faber to incorporate Joyce’s corrections in 1950 and by Viking Press in 1957. In both instances the pagination and font are identical with those in the 1939 edition excepting photographic reduction in the paperback imprints. The papers rescued by Paul Léon were deposited in the National Library of Ireland after the war and made available to scholars fifty years later. The Ulysses manuscript remains at the Rosenbach Museum and Library in Philadelphia and travelled to Ireland on exhibition in Summer of 2001. A substantial collection of further papers formerly in the possession of Léon which includes, inter alia, the lost “Paris Notebook” of 1904, were acquired by the National Library at auction, also in 2001. A ‘lost’ typescript of the “Circe” episode of Ulysses had previously been purchased by the National Library of Ireland for a large sum in New York in March 2000. The first Annual James Joyce International Symposium was held in Dublin in 1967 while others have been held in Paris, Trieste, Rome, Monaco and London. There is a James Joyce Centre at 35 North George’s Street, Dublin, adjacent to the school where many of the events of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man are set.