Walter Macken

by Ultan Macken

‘Quench the Moon’ is an admirable novel, and you want to make sure that you follow that up with something equally as good. It will be some little time yet before ‘Quench the Moon’ is published, either here or in America, so you need not feel pressed to turn out another MS quickly. You are entirely your own master in this matter, but I do hope you will consider our advice, which is to forget these two MSS and to work on something entirely fresh. I know that it is much easier to give that sort of advice than to follow it, and I am sure that it will be a disappointment to you that the two MSS you have written since ‘Quench the Moon’ have both been declined by us. I am sending you a copy of ‘The House of Macmillan’ in which you will find recorded similar experiences by authors who subsequently became famous.

  You will at least have the consolation of knowing that it is not a unique experience for a good writer to have his first books severely judged by the publisher who stands between him and his public. When you write another MS for I am sure you will do that, I hope you will send it to us. We are genuinely interested in you and your future, and I am sure that the Viking Press will feel the same way, especially as they have just taken ‘Quench the Moon’ and are most enthusiastic about it.

  I am returning the two MSS under separate cover.

  With kind regards,

  Yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  My father accepted the criticism of his two books and put them aside. He wrote to Macmillan in November 1947:

  Whitestrand House.

  4/11/47

  Dear Mr Dickson,

  Thanks a lot for your letter of 31st October with the Viking Press agreement, both copies of which I return duly signed and witnessed. It was a cause of jubilation in Macken’s Mansions and provided necessary water for the wilting ego, assisting it to pigeonhole reverses and cling to a concrete success.

  ‘Mungo’ as you know was on in Belfast with the Group Theatre. An interesting thing occurred there. They were just beginning the seventh week of the play, and in the mad scene where Mowleogs tackles Manders, there was a bit of a scrum. Manders fell back on Mowleogs and Mowleogs broke his leg! Really broke it. It was just like the story. I said to them that in order to have it rounded off as a story, Mungo should have bought a Sweep ticket for Mowleogs and he should have drawn Fairy Fulmer in that big race. That was the end of the play, since they had no stand-in (couldn’t afford one I think) but it was apparently a great success there, since Belfast is a hard-headed northern town that despises any accent that is not Ulster in origin. Hope to see you in December.

  Yours sincerely,

  Walter Macken

  Our lives were to change dramatically in December 1947. My father was incredibly frustrated working with the directors of the Taibhdhearc, with whom he didn’t always agree. Apart from two years in London, he had now worked at the theatre from 1935 to 1947 and he saw little hope of being able to survive on the small money they were paying him. At one board meeting in December, when the directors began to attack his policy of presenting a wide range of plays from all over the world instead of concentrating purely on native Irish drama, he told them what he thought of them. After that stormy meeting, he went back to his office, phoned Ernest Blythe in the Abbey Theatre, and told him what had happened. Blythe offered him a job immediately, as an actor with the Abbey Company. The following is the report of what happened at his last Taibhdhearc directors’ meeting on 17 December 1947:

  Maidir leis an litir ó Bhaitéar Ó Maicín a rá go raibh sé ag éirigh as a phost mar bhainisteoir-léiritheoir, do ghlac na stiurthóirí leis. Dúirt Bhaitéar Ó Maicín faoi seo go raibh brón air gur foillsíodh an scéal in sna bpáipéiri roimh an chruinniú ach nach air a bhí an locht.

  (As regards the letter from Walter Macken stating that he was resigning from his job as manager-producer, the directors accepted his resignation. Walter Macken said he was sorry that the news was published in the newspapers before this meeting and he regretted it, although he said it wasn’t his fault.)

  10

  THE ABBEY THEATRE – I AM ALONE

  So my father was to begin a new life as an Abbey actor. Meanwhile he received a very encouraging letter from Mr Huebsch, his American publisher, in December 1947:

  Viking Press,

  18 East 48th Street,

  New York.

  Dear Mr Macken,

  I have been wanting to tell you how much I like, ‘Quench the Moon’ since last summer when we acquired the rights through Mr Dickson but for no good reason except pressure of work (which is not a good reason) kept putting it off. We have scheduled the book for publication early in 1948 and I hope that the public response may be such as to afford you and us pleasure and satisfaction. I look forward with a great deal of interest to the further manuscripts from you to which Mr Dickson alluded and also to the possibility of a meeting with you when I next go abroad, unless you should happen to be coming here before then.

  With all the good wishes of the season.

  Sincerely yours,

  B. Huebsch

  In January Mr Huebsch wrote again:

  The Viking Press.

  January 13th 1948

  Dear Mr Macken,

  I thought it would please you to read the enclosed copy of a letter which our sales manager is sending to some of his personal friends in the books trade. It will be apparent to you that this is not a perfunctory expression. We are planning to publish ‘Quench the Moon’ on St Patrick’s Day and I expect before then to send you specimens of our advance promotion calculated to arouse interest in the book.

  Sincerely yours,

  B. Huebsch

  The following is the promotion letter written by Viking Press:

  A novel of present-day Ireland, this is in some ways, I think, the best first novel published by Viking Press in years. As a newcomer, Macken has shown himself to be a past master at character de-lineation. The novel of the tragedy that was the life of Stephen O’Riordan portrays as well the lives of the poor, proud and primitive people of Connemara.

  You can also see the poachers, the pubs, the weddings and wakes; you hear the terrible silences of the old as they sit in the dark corners of their kitchens; you chuckle at the gaiety of the young men who are ever ready for a fight or a frolic, and whose wit shines out like a flash of stone against stone in the roadside walls – which sometimes are taken apart for the pugnacious purposes of the lads. Sad though the book is in spots, it also has warmth – like the warmth of a summer breeze that barely moves the flowers of the Irish hillsides. Never lacking in excitement – be it grave or gay – the story goes on to a dramatic ending, and when you have finished it, your spirit may need a poultice, but your heart has had a holiday.

  Letters to my father from his publishers were being sent at this point to the Abbey, where he had started in January 1947. This is the first example from that period which survives and also the first in which Lovat addresses him simply as ‘Macken’, indicating a progression in their relationship to friends.

  Macmillan & Co. Ltd.

  14th January 1948

  Walter Macken Esq.,

  c/o The Abbey Theatre, Dublin.

  Dear Macken,

  I am glad to hear you made the break. I can imagine how you feel, but I am sure that it will all work out well in the end. Courageous moves always justify themselves eventually, and I shall look for a great book to come from this.

  With best wishes, yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  The following is a list of what my father was writing during the 1940s – written by him, I think, in the early 1950s:

  ‘Mungo’s Mansion’, a play, commenced in January 1944, published in February 1947

  ‘Quench the Moon’, a novel, commenced circa November 1944, published in April 1948

  ‘Vacant Possession’, a play, commenced August 1945, published September 1948

  ‘I Am Alone’, a novel, commenced February 1946, published December 1949

  ‘Rain on the Wind’, a novel
, commenced January 1947, published September 1950

  ‘The Bogman’, a novel, commenced February 1949, published May 1952

  ‘Home is the Hero’, a play, commenced March 1950, not yet published

  It is interesting that when he was compiling this list, he did not mention the three books he had written in the 1940s, all of which had been rejected by Macmillan:

  Cockle and Mustard, the semi-autobiographical novel.

  And Then No More, a historical novel.

  Citie of the Tribes, a book of short stories.

  During the 1940s, my father established a writing routine that continued throughout his life. He always wrote in the morning and he went to work at the theatre in the afternoon and evening. While my father was writing at home, my mother had her own routine. The 1940s was a difficult time for my parents, as my father aspired to earning a living as a full-time writer. However, he had suffered a string of disappointments after Quench the Moon was published. Quench the Moon was banned in Ireland. His second play, Vacant Possession, although accepted for publication in the UK, was not accepted for production by the Abbey Theatre. Ernest Blythe felt the play was too similar to Mungo’s Mansion. Macmillan had rejected three manuscripts, including the autobiographical Cockle and Mustard. Having read it many times, it seems to me that Macmillan were right. His second novel called And Then No More also failed the Macmillan test and was rejected. He then submitted a collection of short stories called Citie of the Tribes, set in Galway. Again, Macmillan rejected this manuscript. I was delighted, when in the 1990s, Irish publisher Brandon Books agreed to publish Citie of the Tribes. Other stories were also published in a collection called Grass of the People.

  The rejection of three manuscripts must have been very difficult for my father. He tried placing the book of short stories with other publishers, but none of them accepted it for publication. So he began writing a new novel.

  My family moved to Dublin in the first week in February 1948. My father had secured for us the entire upper floor of the house where he had been staying and wrote to tell close family friends Simon and Lavinia Campbell:

  20 Shandon Park,

  Phibsboro.

  Thursday

  My dear Lavinia,

  Only yesterday and in a most roundabout way did I hear of your magnificent achievement, the producing of a son, half Irish and half English, a combining [of] the best parts of the two nations which it gets from its Ma and Pa. I hope you won’t think me the most despicable friend in history, and indeed I feel very poorly about it that I should have only heard about it a week afterwards and I don’t see any excuse for me. I am in the pantomime, a chap had to fall out and I took his place, and I was rehearsing, and looking for a flat but that is no excuse for such low behaviour since I knew that the time was going to descend on you at any moment. However, maybe you will still forgive me, and remember me as being not as bad as you must think of me now. I am delighted that you have a son, and I can imagine the joy that must be flowing in Simon. I remember my first son, and nothing I have ever created since or in the future can compare with the feeling I got then, when I heard that I was a father.

  So from me, all my best wishes, and the hope that you will be about soon and that I will have an opportunity of apologising to you and your son in person. Peggy and the kids will be coming to live with me next week at the above address. A grand landlady, she is getting rid of her four lodgers and setting [renting] the place to us.

  Your friend Wally Macken

  In a letter to my mother on Wednesday, 4 February 1948, he told her what he was doing to prepare for our arrival:

  GPO 12.30

  I spent the morning shifting furniture in the house. The CIE van will call on Friday. It’s costing a fortune but I decided not to have stuff thrown anyway at all on a lorry. It’s better that way. These CIE fellows know how to pack properly so that it will be worth it in the end. It won’t be long now darling. I’m dying to see you all. I will be on the station platform panting to see the train. I envy you the fun you will have with Wally Óg and Ultan on the train. I love you and am dying to have you in my arms again.

  Your adoring husband,

  Wally

  He wrote again on 5 February:

  GPO

  My darling,

  Thanks for your letter. Good to see that you are so excited. I sent you £10 today by wire. That should cover you. I can’t say what time CIE will call. The job will be done by van from Galway. This is the last letter I will be writing to you whilst I am away from you. I’ll tell you I love you in person. My heart thumps at the thought of seeing the three of you again. Only two more days, imagine. All my love to speed the wheels.

  Your adoring husband,

  Wally

  It was all very exciting for me. I loved travelling on the train. Of course in those days, the trains were steam trains with billowing smoke coming from the engine, fuelled by coal. At that time the Galway train came into Westland Row (now Pearse station), the rail line continued from there out to Dún Laoghaire where many of the west of Ireland people went to get the boat to England. I will never forget coming into the station and there waiting for us was my father. As soon as the train began to pull into the station, he ran down the platform towards us, pulled open the door, and hugged us all. I do not remember precisely how we got from the station to the house where we were to stay, but I think he called a taxi.

  As soon as we arrived, I wandered off. About an hour later, my parents discovered I was missing. My mother was worried as the canal ran behind the house, but I was found in a neighbour’s house chatting to an old man about his life and times.

  My mother immediately began to walk the streets of Dublin to find a house we could rent. Eventually she found No 31 Ardpatrick Road in Cabra, a house in a new estate right beside Phoenix Park. We soon settled into a routine of life in our new home. My father would write for a few hours in the morning and have rehearsals in the afternoon. Meanwhile there were letters coming in from Macmillan about the upcoming publication of Quench the Moon:

  16th February 1948

  Walter Macken Esq.,

  The Abbey Theatre,

  Dublin.

  Dear Macken,

  Thank you for your two letters of February 11th and 13th. I have sent a proof copy of ‘Quench the Moon’ to RKO today. RKO is a whale-sized and very good film company.

  I wish you were going to be here in March, but I suppose you are kept hard at it at the Abbey.

  Yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  Thomas Mark, who was a director of Macmillan, wrote to keep my father updated when Lovat Dickson wasn’t around:

  Macmillan.

  19th March 1948

  Dear Mr Macken,

  ‘The Irish Digest’ has asked permission to use a condensed extract of approximately 2,000 words from Chapter X of ‘Quench the Moon’ in a forthcoming issue. A fee of one guinea per thousand words is offered, and perhaps you [would] kindly let me know if you would like us to accept this on your behalf. The fee does not err on the side of generosity, but the Digest has always been helpful to us when we have wanted to use extracts in any of our school books. They have been told that no extract or review is to appear before the book is published.

  I hope that you are having a good time at the Abbey Theatre.

  Yours sincerely,

  Thomas Mark

  My father declined the offer. The following response to his letter notes this:

  25th March 1948

  Dear Mr Macken,

  Thank you for your letter of March 23rd. In view of what you say, we will not authorise the ‘Irish Digest’ to use an extract from ‘Quench the Moon’ but the onus will not be placed on you.

  A few early copies of the book have arrived, and I am sending one to you under separate cover. I hope that you will think it compares favourably with the Viking production.

  You do not appear to be enraptured with the Abbey as yet. The change must, of course, have meant t
he kind of uprooting from which one doesn’t quickly recover unless the compensations are very prompt and obvious.

  Conditions over here have not changed much in recent months, and we have a threatening Budget before us. However, I think it is the international situation that causes most forebodings. What a return, in both cases, for our efforts in two wars!

  All good wishes,

  Yours sincerely,

  Thomas Mark

  Two further letters about Quench the Moon followed:

  Macmillan & Co. Ltd.

  Tuesday, 31st March 1948

  Dear Macken,

  We are publishing ‘Quench the Moon’ on Friday (3rd April) and I am sending you six author’s copies due to you under separate cover. I know that Mr Daniel Macmillan himself meant to write to you and send these copies himself, but he is absent from the office for a few days, and I am doing it in his place. With all good wishes for the success of the book.

  Yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  Some of the Irish literary critics were less than kind to the book when it was published, as is made clear by this very supportive letter from Lovat Dickson:

  5th April 1948

  Dear Macken,

  We have not yet had the reviews from the ‘Irish Press’ and the ‘Irish Independent’. These will come in from our clipping agency some time this week. I am sorry that the ‘Irish Independent’ should have been savage, but I hope you will not be too much hurt by what one reviewer says. There was a fair review in ‘The Observer’ yesterday.