It is one of the strangest stories in the history of modern literature. A novel rejected by every commercial publisher who saw it. A novel prosecuted for obscenity in the United States before it had even been issued as a book. A novel barred from entry into the United Kingdom by His Majesty’s Customs for more than a decade. A novel printed at last, in 1922, in a small Parisian bookshop run by an American woman who had never published anything in her life. And, today, a novel almost universally regarded as the central achievement of literary modernism and one of the indispensable books of the twentieth century. The novel is James Joyce’s Ulysses, and the form in which it first entered the world – the Shakespeare and Company first edition of 1922 – is among the most coveted printed books of the modern era.

A Book No One Would Publish
Joyce had been at work on Ulysses since 1914. Portions began appearing serially in the American journal The Little Review in 1918, and within three years its editors, Margaret Anderson and Jane Heap, had been hauled into a New York court and convicted of publishing obscene material on the strength of the “Nausicaa” episode. The verdict effectively ended any prospect of an American publication. No commercial firm in London or New York was willing to risk a prosecution of its own. The book, in the form Joyce had written it, was unpublishable on either side of the Atlantic.
That it appeared at all was the work of Sylvia Beach. An American expatriate of thirty-four, Beach kept a small English-language bookshop on the Left Bank of Paris called Shakespeare and Company, and she had become a friend and admirer of Joyce shortly after his arrival in the city. In the spring of 1921, watching her friend’s manuscript reach an apparent dead end, she made an offer of breathtaking presumption: she would publish the book herself. She had no experience as a publisher, no capital beyond what the shop produced, and no infrastructure for distribution. She had, on the other hand, a printer in Dijon, Maurice Darantiere, willing to undertake the formidable task of setting the book’s eight hundred pages in type from a manuscript that Joyce continued to revise on the proofs themselves. Beach announced a subscription edition of one thousand copies. The book appeared on Joyce’s fortieth birthday, the second of February 1922, in a print run that has since become one of the most famous in the history of the book.
The Banning and the Long Road to America
The fact of Parisian publication did not put an end to the controversy. Copies smuggled into the United States were intercepted and burned at the Port of New York. Copies entering the United Kingdom were seized at customs as obscene. The novel remained, in effect, banned in the two largest English-speaking countries in the world for more than a decade after its appearance. Joyce’s American readers acquired the book by sleight of hand, friends carrying single copies across the Atlantic in luggage and posting them on under false covers; British readers did the same, or made the journey to Paris to buy directly from Beach’s shop.

The American ban was overturned in 1933 in one of the landmark obscenity decisions of the twentieth century. Judge John M. Woolsey of the Southern District of New York, in United States v. One Book Called Ulysses, ruled that the novel was not pornographic and that its frank treatment of consciousness, including its sexual contents, served a serious artistic purpose. Random House issued the first authorized American edition the following year. The British ban followed in 1936, when the Bodley Head produced the first authorized English edition. By then Joyce had been the most discussed serious novelist in the world for more than a decade, and Ulysses had begun its long passage from contraband to canon.
What the Novel Did
Stripped of its controversies, the novel can be described in a single sentence: Ulysses follows the events of a single day, the sixteenth of June 1904, in the city of Dublin, as experienced principally by three figures – the advertising canvasser Leopold Bloom, his wife the singer Molly Bloom, and the young writer Stephen Dedalus, whom readers had first encountered as the protagonist of Joyce’s earlier A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Beneath that surface is something altogether more ambitious. The book is a complete reimagining of Homer’s Odyssey, each of its eighteen episodes mirroring a passage of the ancient epic, each of its principal figures answering to a Homeric counterpart – Bloom to Odysseus, Molly to Penelope, Stephen to Telemachus – but transposed from the world of gods and heroes to the world of an ordinary Dublin day.

What changed literature was the means by which Joyce rendered that day. He pioneered, in Ulysses, the technique that has since come to be called stream of consciousness: a method of writing that attempts to capture thought as it actually occurs, unfiltered, nonlinear, sometimes chaotic, often beautiful, always deeply human. Readers in 1922 had encountered nothing like it. The “Penelope” episode, the long final monologue of Molly Bloom that closes the book with the celebrated affirmation, “yes I said yes I will Yes,” runs for some forty pages without conventional punctuation. The “Sirens” episode is structured as a piece of music. The “Oxen of the Sun” episode parodies, in chronological order, the entire history of English prose. Joyce famously remarked that he had put so many puzzles and enigmas into the book that it would keep scholars busy for centuries arguing about what he had meant, and a century later they still are. Ulysses did not merely tell a story. It expanded what a novel could be, not just a record of events but an immersion in consciousness itself, and very nearly every serious novelist who has written in English since has worked in its long shadow.
The 1922 First Edition
The first edition of Ulysses is among the most carefully studied printed books of the modern era, and its details matter to collectors. Sylvia Beach issued the book in a limitation of one thousand copies, divided into three distinct tiers. The first one hundred copies were printed on Dutch handmade paper and signed by Joyce. The next one hundred and fifty copies were printed on vergé d’Arches paper. The remaining seven hundred and fifty copies, numbered 251 to 1000, were printed on handmade paper and issued unsigned, in distinctive blue printed wrappers – the Greek-flag blue, by Joyce’s specification, that would become one of the most recognizable bindings in twentieth-century literature.

The book is famous in the trade for the fragility of those wrappers. The paper covers, never designed to survive a century of handling, have been lost or replaced on a great many of the surviving copies. A first edition rebound in cloth or leather, however handsomely, is no longer the book as Beach issued it. A first edition in the original wrappers – intact, complete, sound – is a different proposition altogether, and the copies that have come down to the present in such condition are scarce. The presence of a custom clamshell box, the standard protective housing for a book of this importance, indicates a copy that has been cared for by collectors who understood what they had.
The Copy We Are Currently Offering
We are currently offering a first edition, first impression of Ulysses, published in Paris by Shakespeare and Company in 1922. Our copy is one of the seven hundred and fifty numbered copies printed on handmade paper, survives in its original blue printed wrappers, and is housed in a custom clamshell box for protection. As a copy of the book that more nearly than any other defines the literary modernism of the twentieth century – and that survives in the form in which Joyce and Beach first sent it into the world – it represents one of the most important acquisitions available to a serious collector of modern firsts. It stands as both a literary milestone and a record of artistic courage, the work that was once rejected and prosecuted now regarded as essential.
The book is available at the gallery on Worth Avenue in Palm Beach and at raptisrarebooks.com.
It is worth pausing on the symmetry of the story. A book that no major publisher would touch, printed in a thousand copies by a young woman with a small shop on the rue de l’Odéon, banned at customs, burned at the docks, sold under cover for more than a decade – and now one of the books a serious twentieth-century library cannot do without. The first edition is the form in which all of that began. To hold a copy in its original wrappers is to hold the book as the small subscription list of 1922 first received it, before the prosecutions, before the rulings, before the century of scholarship and imitation that has followed. There are not many objects of which that can still honestly be said.
Browse our current inventory of modern first editions, and the wider holdings of twentieth-century literature presently at the gallery.
You may also enjoy reading:
The Novel Twenty-One Publishers Rejected… and the First Edition Collectors Now Chase.
James Joyce: Modernist Master.
The Famous Works of James Joyce
A Book and Its Legend: The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam in a Jewelled Binding by Sangorski & Sutcliffe.
























































