“€œAlready the publicity is beginning, and swarms of people visit the shop on hearing the news.” – Letter from Sylvia Beach to her sister

(“the news” being the publication of Ulysses.)

Recently it was Sylvia Beach’s birthday, and this coming month will see the publication of The Letters of Sylvia Beach, which should be a bit of a treasure-trove, considering the people she interacted with daily (Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Joyce … you know, minor figures like those guys). Naturally, Sylvia Beach is most known for her publication of Ulysses (through the auspices of her bookstore/publishing company Shakespeare & Co.) – which turned her into a notorious world-famous woman. The journey of Ulysses (the book, I mean) is well-known, and Beach was at the forefront of that important battle, concerning censorship and free speech. Relations with Joyce eventually broke down, and Beach, who was, essentially, running a very small-time operation, could not keep up with the demands.

James Campbell reviews the Letters of Sylvia Beach for the TLS, and seems frustrated with the editing thereof, the sketchy shorthand footnotes, the blanks not filled in for the lay reader. The events of Sylvia Beach’s life are fascinating in and of themselves (who WAS this woman??), and I mainly know her through her intersections with the literary giants of the day. I love that Campbell calls her the “midwife of Modernism”. I look forward to hearing her voice in these letters.

Here is a really interesting anecdote (which gives you some background of just ONE aspect of her life – and, of course, of course, James Joyce is peripherally involved):

When the Nazis entered Paris, Beach, who had lately made a visit home to the United States where she underwent a hysterectomy (she was also “knocked out by headaches” all her life), declined to leave rue de l’Odéon a second time. In her memoir, she told the almost too-cinematic story of how a “high-ranking German officer” entered her shop one day and, “speaking perfect English”, asked to buy the single copy of Finnegans Wake (published by Faber and Faber) displayed in the window. Beach told him it was not for sale, and duly removed it.

A fortnight later, the same officer strode into the bookshop. Where was Finnegans Wake? I had put it away. Fairly trembling with rage, he said, “€œWe’re coming to confiscate all your goods today.”€ “All right.”€ He drove off.

Within a few hours, she had boxed up the stock, removed the sign and painted over the patron’s name. The Germans did not get Finnegans Wake, but they did get Beach. She spent six months in an internment camp at Vittel, alongside Jewish prisoners who would later be removed to Auschwitz.

I loved this, too: Recently, long-time commenter Bryan and I had a conversation about Joyce (in the comments section here). It had to do with Joyce’s poetry and influences. Bryan (clearly) knows a lot about this subject, and I wondered if there was any known connection between Joyce and Oscar Wilde? Did Joyce say anything about Wilde? Refer to him at all? Bryan came up with a couple of great examples (again, see that old post). So I was thrilled to read that Sylvia Beach wrote of her first meeting with James Joyce in her memoirs – he walked into her bookshop (Shakespeare & Co.) in Paris. She describes his behavior thus:

He stepped into my bookshop . . . he inspected my two photographs of Oscar Wilde. Then he sat down beside my table.

Marvelous. I wonder what he was thinking.

Look forward to reading her letters. The midwife of Modernism, indeed!