Ulysses: A Facsimile of the First Edition Published in Paris in 1922 [Hardcover]

The Orchises Press edition stands out for three reasons. The first is that it reproduces--with impressive attention to detail--the first edition of Joyce's novel. The second reason is that the large, widemargined pages add the pleasure of reading to the pleasure of reading Ulysses (there is something missing, after all, in the insubstantial, tinytype levity of the paperback editions). Finally, the weight of the paper, the strength of the binding makes this edition one that will last (and you will not, as with the paperback editions, be forced to transcripe all your notes from a book that falls apart after three readings). For those who seek the "authenticity" of a first edition, who admire Joyce or who will be studying the novel for years to come, this is the edition to buy.

Let's not mince words: Ulysses is one of the highest achievements of literary modernism. But it is also a book that must be read again and again (and again) if it is to be understood and enjoyed. Why buy a pulpy and cheaply made edition that falls to pieces on the second read? The Orchises edition, as a physical artefact, is not only aesthetically worthy of the text it presents (including the generous white space framing the text itself)--it also has the durability and weight you'd normally expect from a Bible.

Other reviewers have detailed how this book is a faithful facsimile of the 1922 editions. The only other thing I would add is that this is the edition whose colour scheme Joyce himself oversaw: The white text and blue background of the cover symbolise the pentelic marble of Greece and the greenblue of the Mediterranean respectively (which are also the colours of the Greek flag).

I thoroughly recommend this beautiful book for anyone who is serious about Ulysses.

I bought this to supplement the 1961 Random House edition (balance of textual corrections and respect for the original, matches most annotations), Modern Library edition (most portable, attractive package as all ML editions, typography a tad hard on my 40-something eyes) and '80s "Gabler edition" (hotly contested, worth keeping as a collector's item as it's been largely withdrawn).

The original Shakespeare & Co. printings are out of my league, although I've seen several. Until I hit the lottery, this is the closest I'll own. A quick Google will find you first edition, first printing copies selling for up to 100k. I doubt my stimulus check is that big.

This is a textual facsimile - a photo reproduction of the original, 1000-copy first edition - copy #784, to be exact. It also reproduces the cover typography and the Shakespeare and Co. title page, with an added, Orchises title page to keep the record clear. It contains the original colophon. It doesn't contain the forward, letter from Joyce to Bennett Cerf or Judge Woolsey opinion you're probably used to seeing in American editions.

In a physical sense, it's hard to say how this is a facsimile, other than Orchises has reproduced the full size of the original. Of course, the paper and binding material are different.

Most S. & Co. editions came unbound in blue-green wrappers, and could be bound as desired. This is why you see original printings in such disparate bindings. Orchises has reproduced the color of the original wrappers, although their binding looks a little more green than the original wrappers (maybe the color has shifted on those?). In any case, it's a solid cloth binding, comparable to, say, a better-than-average library binding. Bound size given as 9.6 x 7.5 x 1.7 inches, I measure it a hair taller. I daresay it will hold up to extended use.

In addition to giving the slight tingle of pleasure that comes from knowing you're reading the text as originally sold at 12, Rue de l'Odeon, this edition is much more comfortable on my eyes than the others. I like the typeface used by original printer Maurice Darantiere for readability, but haven't gotten a definitive answer as to what it is - does anyone know? Somehow, it just feels right.

Orchises says the paper is 50-pound, ph-balanced (aka acid-free) paper, and that seems about right. It's really good paper, with a slight, almost visually undetectable textured finish that feels good to the fingers. Excellent paper-to-ink contrast. I can, and will, read this all day.

For the average reader, there's no earthly reason to spend this amount on a novel, and the ML edition will be both more convenient and, with its front material, more informative. For someone who rereads Ulysses for pleasure, it's a joy. The 1922 text has been analyzed to death, and is not without errors (2,000? 3,000? 5,000? the number gets larger each time it's mentioned). It was perhaps inevitable in a book with no clear reference manuscript - even the extant manuscripts were to some degree created by Joyce after the fact for sale. Part of one manuscript was burned by the angry husband of a typist, who found its content objectionable. An appreciable percentage of the text was written as corrections on the original proofs.

Hence the charming apology from Sylvia Beach reproduced in this facsimile: "The publisher asks the reader's indulgence for typographical errors unavoidable in the exceptional circumstances. S.B."

But each effort to correct the errors added more errors, as well as layers of contention. See the well-documented battle over the Gabler edition. Or the disastrous 1998 "Reader's edition" by Danis Rose. The original is as good as any for reading, and if you care enough to buy a facsimile, you will have other editions for comparison anyway.

For scholarly use, this isn't the best edition, since most standard annotations match the Random House or Modern Library editions. Unless you're beyond Ulysses 101 and want to compare editions.

This is one of three first-edition facsimiles that have been published. I can't speak to the others, but I can recommend this one. Kudos to Orchises, and I hope they keep it in print. Or not, so my copy will become a minor-league collector's item.

Ulysses has become an obsession and and a world in and of itself for its partisans, of whom I am one. The Ulysses obsession is much like the Higher Criticism surrounding the Sherlock Holmes canon. Many people find it bizarre, and I can hardly disagree. If, like me, you've got the bug, I don't have to explain it to you. This is an edition for you.

If you don't, I paraphrase Louis Armstrong: "If you have to ask, you'll never know."

› Go to Amazon.com to see all 11 reviews  4.7 out of 5 stars