Walter Macken
Page 32
I did not see the uncut version, and the revised text did not strike me as being too long, except perhaps for Chapter 10 about the ‘sacking’ of Sullivan and his walk out the country. I should be inclined not to give the full text of the prayer at the wedding service. There are probably too many extracts from plays which one feels that nobody would have dreamed of putting on, but you may mean these to show why the pieces in which Sullivan won a great personal success were nevertheless predestined flops.
I have written a short list of passages you might like to omit or modify. I have written them down on one side of the sheet, so that you have only to write something beside them to show what you would like us to do. This will make things easier than a letter.
I hope that you and your family are flourishing. The very cold weather looks like setting in early a week or two ago, but we are having a mild spell now. You might look around to see if there is any oil on your property.
Best wishes,
Yours sincerely,
Thomas Mark
I think my father was probably hurt by all this criticism of Sullivan, but finally, just before Christmas 1956, he completed the final revisions and sent them off. Sullivan is the first of his novels where his characters spend most of their time outside of Ireland.
One of the last letters to reach us that December was one from Windsor Lewis, telling us that Barbara and himself would be coming to Ireland to live in the summer of 1957. They wanted to make sure that my father bought a Corrib boat for Barbara and that my parents had booked their two daughters into the local school for the September 1957 school term.
16
THE HISTORICAL TRILOGY
My father began to work on the first of his historical novels, Seek the Fair Land in 1957. I think he felt the need to write this historical trilogy as he felt there was so little published about the ordinary life of Irish people down through the centuries. The history we all learned in school concentrated on the leaders in every country, the famous kings, queens and prime ministers. Cromwell, Daniel O’Connell, Michael Collins, Charles Stewart Parnell, Pádraig Pearse, Napoleon, Julius Caesar. Meeting the Macken aunts in America and realising how little they knew about the social history of their own country led him to concentrate on how the ‘ordinary man and woman’ lived their lives at particular times in history. He selected three distinct eras, starting with the middle of the seventeenth century, and beginning his story with Cromwell’s sacking of Drogheda in 1649. The second book began in the early part of the nineteenth century and involved his principal character leaving Connemara and going to Munster where he met Daniel O’Connell. In the third book, he planned to tackle the most difficult period of our history – 1910 to 1925.
Since he was not a professional historian he had to do a lot of solid research work, for example for the first book, he had to find out how people had lived in Drogheda in 1641 when the book starts, what kind of clothes they wore, what food they ate, how they travelled and what kind of weapons they used. He found there were almost no records of the day to day lives of ordinary people to be found in Irish libraries. He accessed some material from the Folklore Commission but otherwise most of his detailed research was done in the British Library in London. He spent the best part of six months gathering material on the basic clothes, food and housing of the Irish of that era. Then in the summer of 1957, he brought my mother and me with him to Drogheda to absorb the atmosphere of the town. From there, we made our way to Lough Sheelin, up towards County Cavan where his main character, Dominick MacMahon, spent the winter after the Drogheda siege. From Lough Sheelin, we made our way back towards Galway passing through Carrick-on-Shannon in County Leitrim and then back to Galway itself.
The next journey for the principal characters happens when they escape from Cromwell’s soldiers in Galway via the River Corrib and Lough Corrib. We brought our own boat down to Galway and then travelled up Lough Corrib, through the narrow part of the Lower Lake into the deep part of the Upper Lake. From there, we went up the Maam Valley. The O’Flaherty clan brings him up through Maam Valley into the mountains until finally he reaches a mountain fastness where Murdoc, chieftain of the O’Flahertys, has his home. Murdoc gives Dominick MacMahon a piece of land to build a house. Dominick settles there, believing that he will be at peace as he has finally found his ‘Fair Land’. Most of 1957 was spent researching and he began to write the book towards the end of the year, so our lives went on as normal. Wally Óg spent October 1956 to June 1957 studying Spanish and English at UCD and obtained first class honours in all his exams. Then, in the summer of 1957, he informed us that Opus Dei had decided to send him to Rome to continue his studies.
My father was asked to write an article for the theatre magazine Playbill in 1957, to coincide with the publication of his novel Sullivan:
You who are so familiar with the sacred rites, taboos and ceremonies of the theatre in New York have no conception of the bewildering impact it can have on a starry-eyed author coming into it for the first time with his European back-ground. It is like sending a lamb into the jungle; a four year old boy to college; or presenting an infant with whiskey instead of mother’s milk.
I have thought a lot about it and I have come to a conclusion. Since Ellis Island is no longer in use, I think it would be a good idea if all incoming authors were confined in it for a spell, and that it be used as a sort of decompression chamber, for their enlightenment and education. While they are kept there they could be conditioned over a period of weeks by various Broadway impresarios. Naturally somebody would have to pay the impresarios but it would be worth it. The course would be intensive, without sleep, and the food would consist of coffee and hamburgers.
At the end of it the foreign author would not be nearly so naïve. He would be aware of the following facts:
That an angel is not altogether a pure spirit.
That a turkey is not a bird which he used to eat roasted at Christmas.
Other things which could be disentangled for him are this business about the producer and director. He would have to find out that unlike the British Isles, a producer doesn’t direct and that a director doesn’t produce. He would discover that a producer is somewhat like a market gardener, who finds the lettuce, but that even if it is of the same colour, this lettuce doesn’t go well in salad. The director is the fellow who does all the work and all the cursing.
He should be taught that even if a play is taking in $12,000 a week at the box office, it is still a dead duck (another inedible bird).
Further, he should know, that if, instead of paying the price of the scenery for his play, they gave the money to the author, he could go home and build three or four five-bed roomed houses in a sylvan setting, or that he could afford to buy a thatched cottage on the American millionaires’ island in Killarney.
He should know that under his contract he possesses almost dictatorial powers to hire and fire, and that nobody but nobody can talk him into changing a line in his play if he doesn’t wish; that nevertheless, as sure as a turkey isn’t a turkey or a duck a duck, he will be talked into more changes than a cash register in Woolworths.
He will be informed that a play doctor is not an actor with an MD degree who takes out an appendix in his spare time, but a sinister, unseen character, who descends like a hurricane and departs leaving destruction in his wake.
He will be taught to assess people who are waiting for the cat to jump and that the cat is also a mythical animal with temporarily sheathed claws.
He must be warned that even if critics tear the guts out of him, they don’t really mean any harm, and that no, he had never assaulted their mothers, that it was all purely impersonal for his own good; to teach him how to smile with a crack in it, so that he would be a better and a wiser man at the end of it all.
These are only a few suggestions. Any other alien author is heartily welcome to add to the subjects in the course. And what’s going to happen at the end of it all, when the student staggers wearily, white-faced and
pie-eyed into the open air, under the statue of Liberty. I’ll tell you what will happen. The poor fool is going to stick out his neck anyhow!
I remember my father saying to me: ‘When you write a play, it has to go through a whole series of people before reaching an audience – producers/directors, actors but when you write a novel or a short story there is no one between you the writer and the reader.’
Windsor Lewis, his wife Barbara Bel Geddes and their two daughters – Susan (12) and Betsy (8) – came to live in Oughterard in May 1957. Windsor had been to a tennis coach at Forest Lawns in California and as we had a hard tennis court, he spent many hours during the summer playing, against me primarily. Barbara Bel Geddes was at the height of her career in those years and in 1958, during her period living in Oughterard, she went to Hollywood to co-star in Alfred Hitchcock’s famous film, Vertigo, she played the wife of Jimmy Stewart’s character who was obsessed with Kim Novak’s character.
I think Windsor Lewis and his wife Barbara thought that they could continue to live in the peace and serenity of Oughterard, despite Barbara’s success. They had seen how we lived and how successful my father was in terms of writing and they thought that the house they had bought and the fifty-six acres of land would offer them the opportunity to escape from Hollywood. Their plan was that Windsor would write and Barbara would concentrate on her painting. Their two girls went to school at Taylor’s Hill in Galway, where my mother had started her schooling. We were all driven into school in the morning and we came home on the bus from Galway to Oughterard. I had just moved into second year in the Jess (St Ignatius College, Galway) and so of course, I was beginning to have an interest in girls.
However, I think that Windsor and Barbara soon began to realise that there were drawbacks to living in Oughterard if you wanted to continue a career as a major actress. It was so difficult at that time for anyone in Hollywood to contact her as the phones were manual, you lifted the handset and twirled a handle and then the postmistress in Oughterard answered you. If you asked her to phone Los Angeles, she would find this very difficult and would tell you just how expensive it was to phone LA. In the summer of 1958, they returned to America.
My father had begun writing Seek the Fair Land but an unexpected diversion arose. There had been talk about the possibility of establishing an Irish Film Industry for many years, and now Seán Lemass, as the Fianna Fáil Minister for Industry and Commerce, made money available to build a film studio in Bray, County Wicklow. It was agreed that three popular plays from the Abbey Theatre repertoire would be filmed, including Home is the Hero. My father was persuaded to sell the film rights for the small sum of £1,000 and then one of the producers, Louis Elliman, wrote to my father asking if he would be willing to play the part of Paddo in the film. Henry Keating wrote the screenplay and they sent it to my father for his approval.
Once my father approved of the screenplay and agreed to take on the part, the other producer, Emmet Dalton, wrote to him:
Emmet Dalton Ltd.,
Independent Film Producers,
1 Bank Chambers,
25 Jermyn Street,
London SW1.
24th March 1958
Dear Mr Macken,
Louis Elliman has been with me and passed me a copy of your letter which was a relief to me, because I was doubtful about your acceptance of our screen adaptation of your play. My company is producing these Abbey plays in association with an American Company and I have so many people to please that at times it becomes difficult.
I am attaching for your information, the details of our production and the dates we need you in Dublin. My production manager, Ronnie Lilis, will be in Ireland from next Friday and he can be reached at Ardmore Studios, Bray, telephone number Bray 3490, would you please confirm with him. Your contract will be issued in due course from Dublin.
Thank you for your co-operation,
Emmet Dalton
The letter included the details of his engagement with the film:
1. Part of Paddo O’Reilly
2. Period of engagement: – Four weeks commencing Monday 14th April made up of:
One week location shooting commencing 14th April
Three weeks studio shooting commencing 21st April
3. Script discussion with Director/Costuming etc.
Mr Macken will be required in Dublin not later than 9th April
4. Salary
Mr Macken will be paid at a rate of £15 for each shooting day, either on location or in the studio, with a guarantee of £200 covering 12 days shooting and the pre-production period.
5. The company will pay for Mr Macken’s transportation from Galway to Bray and the return journey at the expiry of the engagement.
6. Accommodation
The company will provide, at their cost, hotel accommodation at Bray, during the period of the engagement.
There was considerable correspondence between my father and mother while he was away filming. My mother, who was not able to drive, would cycle into Oughterard, a distance of some four miles, both to go to mass and to get some of our shopping. Local grocer Dermot Joyce delivered food and groceries to our house. Another couple who helped us out during this time was the manager of the local factory, Peter Gant. Peter and his wife Betty would also take us into Galway a few times each week and sometimes, as a treat, we would go to the cinema.
While my father worked away on Seek the Fair Land, there was a letter from Terese Sacco, his new editor at Macmillan of London, concerning his plays. Twilight of a Warrior had been staged in Stockholm, while the Norwegians staged Home is the Hero twice in Oslo. The Australians were broadcasting Mungo’s Mansion and planned to do Twilight of a Warrior. South African radio had broadcast Twilight in Africaans. She also told him that BBC TV were broadcasting their version of Home is the Hero on BBC TV on Sunday 27 July starring Eddie Byrne as Paddo, Peggy Marshall as Daylia and Donal Donnelly as Willie.
As a direct result of my father’s work on Home is the Hero, the film, he made two new friends – Arthur Kennedy who played the part of Willie and the director Fielder Cook. My father worked very hard on that film – he told us that running through the narrow streets of northside Dublin was exhausting. When he was running for the same shot for about the sixth time, some of the local urchins shouted after him: ‘Hey mistah, who do you think you are – Ronnie Delaney is it?’ My father, Fielder and Arthur Kennedy got on very well and I got the distinct impression that the script was practically re-written on a daily basis. The completed film was previewed in America in January 1959 and received good reviews. It previewed in Dublin on Tuesday 17 February 1959 and my father was invited to attend. When he agreed to attend, he received the following letter from Louis Elliman:
Dear Walter,
Thanks for yours of February 6th. I am very glad you are able to come to Dublin for ‘Home is the Hero’ and if there is anything we can do to enhance you in the eyes of your son then rest assured we will do it. Seriously we would like your opinion on the picture and as requested, we are sending an invitation to Dr Macken of Phibs-borough.
Hope to see you in the morning,
All good wishes,
Louis Elliman
There was a lot of optimism that this was the beginning of a completely new Irish film industry, and it was exactly that.
Fielder Cook wrote my parents a lovely letter that month:
Dear Wally,
I know it seems a monstrous thing that we haven’t written since God knows how long. But things have been turning over. Sally has a ‘little watermelon’ in the oven and by now (8 months), it’s bigger than a truck of grapefruit, also far lovelier. I have been busy with TV and I’m getting a play ready for August rehearsals. I’m sure I wrote you about it – ‘A Cook for Mrs General’ – Bill Travers, a lovely English actor, is our star.
Most important immediate news is that ‘Home is the Hero’ opened to lovely notices except for the ‘New York Times’. I’m sending you a batch of them with this letter. Don Wal
l and I sat and watched and we cried like a baby. It is a fine film but I’m sure what he and I felt was homesickness for dear Ireland and my lovely friends. Sally and I miss you greatly. Also we have had no word from you about ‘The Voices of Doolin’ or anything since summer. So please write. I read part of your novel over again before lending it to a friend who loved it. We agree that you are the hope of Ireland and of Irish letters.
All happiness and love to you and all the family,
Fielder and Sally Cook
Seek the Fair Land had been accepted for publication by both Macmillan of London and Macmillan of New York and then came great news from the managing editor of Macmillan of New York:
The Macmillan Company,
60 Fifth Avenue,
New York.
February 18th 1959
Dear Walter,
It’s with more pleasure than I can tell you that I am sending you this cable:
‘Delighted tell you Literary Guild has chosen “Seek the Fair Land” as August selection. Must have by return article approximately thousand words about background of book development of story characters etc., similar to “Rain on the Wind” article – deadline March First – Congratulations.’