The Joyce experience is especially rewarding in a reading group environment.
Everybody’s knowledge, no matter how specialized or obscure, is invariably brought to bear during discussion, and active and inquisitive participation from “beginners” has always been an essential part of the group’s success. Newcomers, veterans, late-comers, early-leavers, the timid, the talkative – all are welcome and encouraged to join us as often or sporadically as they like. Everyone, no matter how green is brought up to speed, and for the truly unprepared, copies of the texts we’ll be discussing are always made available each week.
Over the years, JoyceGroup Santa Fe has made its way through all of Joyce’s major works somewhere between three to four times – except Finnegans Wake of course, which we started reading about 24 years ago, and have but half a chapter to go before we start it all over again. Presently we’re spending the first couple of hours with Ulysses and then topping it off at noon with an hour-or-so of Finnegan.
You can read more about our history here, and you can get an idea of the pace we work at by viewing our chronology.
Our next meeting:
Where: Planet Earth
(When the pandemic pushed us online back in March 2020, “JoyceGroup Santa Fe” quickly became a quaint misnomer. We now have members joining us from as far as New York, Northern Ireland, Portugal – even occasional insomniacs from as far as Sydney and Saigon have chimed in – basically anyone with sufficient bandwidth to livestream can join us from anywhere on or near Planet Earth they happen to be. So if you’re interested, please feel welcome to fill out the form at the bottom of the page and we’ll send you the relevant info.)
When: Saturday, August 15, 2026, 10:00 am to 1:30 pm U.S.A. Mountain Time
(“Mountain” – either “standard” or “daylight” depending on the season – is the name of our time zone here in New Mexico, U.S.A., so be sure and translate that to wherever you hail from.)
Where we are in the books:
Ulysses
p. 473, line 4157:
“Stephen’s mother, emaciated, rises stark through the floor, in lepergrey with a wreath of faded orangeblossoms and a torn bridal veil, her face worn and noseless, green with gravemould.”
Finnegans Wake
p. 626, line 8 from the top:
“Why there that moment and us two only? ”
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