More to Bloomsday than a Book

Sidewalks with Tom Deignan

More to Bloomsday than a Book

June 18, 2008

Sidewalks by Tom Designan

BY now, Bloomsday in America has become a grand annual event for literary revelry. This past Monday, June 16, from Dublin to Denver, there were readings –- often fueled by pints — that lasted hours, all in the name of marking the famous date on which all of the action in James Joyce’s Ulysses takes place.

We do need to remember, however, that this year marks an important 75th anniversary. That’s when it was finally no longer a crime to read Joyce’s masterpiece.

So, along with Joyce, we should also celebrate two fellows named John Quinn and John Woolsey.

This is particularly important for Irish Americans to remember. Given our predominately Catholic background in the U.S., it is understandable that we would be sensitive to patently lewd and offensive material.

On the other hand, Irish Americans have often been targeted for practicing free, albeit controversial, expression (even if we don’t always like the forms of that expression, or the people doing the expressing).

A few years back, Ulysses was voted the most important book of the 20th century by writers and scholars. Still, generations of readers have been unable to crawl their way through this dense work.

But that didn’t stop the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, which, amidst all of Joyce’s classical allusions and invented language, sniffed an obsession with body parts, particularly those located below the belt.

In 1920, a section of Ulysses was to be published in a U.S. literary magazine. That episode features our hero Leopold Bloom, um, pleasuring himself, when he spots a slice of underwear on a fair maiden.

The Society for the Suppression of Vice hauled the magazine editors into court and stopped the publication of any so-called indecent materials. The U.S. Post Office seized magazines featuring Ulysses material and either stored them away or, in some cases, actually burned the works.

The book was also similarly banned in Britain.

A little context here is important. During World War I, particularly once America joined the fight in 1917, many forms of political expression were suppressed. Irish Americans were particularly targeted.

Why? Well, many Irish nationalists in the U.S. were not thrilled when America joined forces with the British during World War I. This was just one year after the Easter Rising, after all.

To many Irish in America, the British should have been liberating the Irish before traveling across the globe to take part in other battles. Similarly, America should be lobbying the Brits to create an independent Ireland, rather than sidling up to the English.

Making this argument, however, was not easy for the Irish in America. For decades prior, Irish Catholics were believed to be disloyal because it was assumed their allegiance, first and foremost, would be to Rome.

Now, it seemed as if the Irish were anti-American, since they were highly critical -– and even plotting military ventures against –- America’s ally, the British.

Therefore, Irish American nationalists often saw their printed ideas censored and seized, and some were even imprisoned for their published opinions.

So, there was a precedent when it came to seizing Joyce’s “obscene” book. Ulysses was published in France, but it was not until 1933 that Random House challenged the American ban on Ulysses.

With support from Irish American lawyer and arts patron John Quinn, Judge John Woolsey decided that while parts of Ulysses may be a bit naughty (not to mention incomprehensible) the federal ban should be overturned, mainly because America should not treat all readers as they would treat impressionable children.

These days, a lot of kooks want to call their curse words and scatological art “free expression.” Similarly, there’s always a crowd that wants to compare any Republican to Hitler, or any liberal to Joseph Stalin.

These people are annoying, particularly because they yell loudly (which is generally proof that they don’t really have much to say).

Nevertheless, this is the price we must pay if we are going to continue enjoying difficult works of art such as Ulysses. Or make controversial points about the cost of war.

(Contact Tom at tomdeignan@verizon.net.)

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