Book Review The Most Dangerous Book: The Battle for James Joyce’s Ulysses By Kevin Birmingham The Penguin Press New York, 2014 $29.95, hardcover Reviewed by Thomas J. Byrne “Obscenity is as illegal today as it was in 1873. What changed is the way we define it.” 1 If someone were to ask what Kevin Birmingham’s new book is about, this pithy description could not be called inaccurate. But it would be like describ-ing Moby Dick by saying, “It’s a book about a whale.” In The Most Dangerous Book: The Battle for James Joyce’s Ulysses, Birmingham sets Joyce’s novel in the context of his life and times — especially the times relevant to the cultural move-ment now known as modernism — a context which in significant part consists of the book’s tortured publishing history and the legal challenges it faced in being brought to American readers. Birmingham undoubtedly was aware of the massive volume of com-mentary on Joyce’s works. But he justi-fies his project by noting that the “story of the fight to publish Ulysses has never been told in its entirety,” 2 and he admirably fills this gap. To call his inclu-sion of historical detail voluminous is to beggar the word somewhat. This is not a book you glide through in one sitting; rather, it is best appreciated by being savored episodically to get the full flavor of the momentous consequences the battle had for individuals, the publishing industry, and constitutional law. Some readers may be put off by the breadth of the historical research Birmingham incorporates into his story and, in fairness to such readers, the numerous layers and contextual detours do occasionally sidetrack. The detours, however, always lead back to the main story and add a richness of understanding. Those interested primarily in the details of the legal battle over Ulysses can begin reading on page 297 and still get their money’s worth. But even such focused consumers will be drawn back to the beginning or some previous sec-tion(s) of the book. Intellectual treats, after all, are not tightly orchestrated strolls. They are, at their best, sumptu-ous and often surprising romps. Birmingham’s book is no less than that. The legal and social background involves the Comstock Act, passage of the Espionage Act in 1917 on the eve of America’s entry into World War I, the violent anarchist movement in America during that period, and the federal gov-ernment’s casting of so wide a net in search of these dissidents that it also ensnared those with barely colorable affiliations to known or suspected anar-chists. In America, episodes of Ulysses were first published in The Little Review , a New York City magazine edited by Margaret Anderson and Jane Heap that regularly published articles by Emma Goldman, a radical feminist and vocal supporter of anarchism. One of the surprising threads Birmingham weaves into his tapestry is the early history of America’s postal service. Incredible as it seems, he con-vincingly argues that in the decades preceding World War I, “The Post Office Department was a major federal law enforcement agency” and “the corner-stone of the U.S. censorship regime.” 3 And those who crave a little action in their reading will be thrilled by the story of Anthony Comstock, a special agent of the Post Office Department with a gun, a badge, and the authority to make arrests anywhere in the country, who began as head of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice. In 1873 he traveled to Washington, DC, with proposed legislation he had drafted, designed to expand and strengthen the scope of what could be censored and what conse-quences could follow. After a month of lobbying, President Grant signed the bill and Comstock got his gun and badge. No chair-bound administrator, Comstock personally and vigorously joined the crusade. 4 Regarding the actual litigation 5 over Ulysses , Birmingham fleshes out the characters involved, rarely resorting to black hat-white hat stereotypes, as he details the cooperation of the federal attorney, Sam Coleman, in the numer-ous postponements and adjournments that ultimately landed the case on the docket of the only judge of the Southern District of New York deemed favorable by Morris Ernst, the lawyer defending Ulysses . Coleman further cooperated by waiving the government’s right to a jury trial, thereby ensuring that Judge John Woolsey would have complete control over the outcome. 6 As for Woolsey’s decision, I’m not giving anything away by saying he ruled that importation and distribution of Ulysses in the United States did not vio-late the Tariff Act. The opinion is rela-tively brief and does not address the legal particulars until near the end. The bulk is taken up with an account of Woolsey’s reading and study of the www.vsb.org Vol. 63 | October 2014 | VIRGINIA LAWYER 19