Literature 25
March 24 2014
Walter Macken: Home is the Hero? By Karen McDonnell The centenary of the Galway writer Walter Macken occurs on 3 May 2015. So? Exactly. I admit to having a soft spot for Macken. As a child, I was introduced to his historical trilogy by my grandmother. I was captivated; the books fuelled my interest in Macken. Many years later, I acted in his play Home is the Hero with Island Theatre Company in Limerick. My grandmother was still around to catch to show. When I returned to Galway as a student, I was surprised at a lack of interest in Macken. Eventually I learned that there was a plaque on the wall of his childhood home on St Joseph’s Avenue. Last week, I paid it a visit. The plaque could do with a face lift. Walter Macken’s early work was with the Taibhdhearc theatre in Galway. There he met the actress and journalist Peggy Kenny, whom he married. He worked as the Taibhdhearc’s producer from 1939 to 1947, before leaving to join the Abbey Theatre. (Later, he was a nominee to that theatre’s board of directors, also its Artistic Advisor.) He left the Abbey when offered an acting role on Broadway. While in America he was offered a sevenyear acting contract by a Hollywood studio. The producers were baffled by his response: he wanted to return to Ireland to finish a novel. The success of his third book Rain on the Wind allowed Macken to concentrate on writing full-time. His published work includes books of short stories, many novels, seven plays and two children’s books. Last summer my eye was caught by an Irishman’s Diary in The Irish Times. Written by Dr Eamon Maher of the Centre for FrancoIrish Studies at the Institute of Technology Tallaght, ‘Revisiting Walter Macken’s Connemara’ considered Macken’s deep connection with the West. Dr Maher also lamented the dearth of critical discussion of Macken’s work. And here we come to the crux of the matter. Is this perceived lack of interest in Macken a case of out of sight, out of mind? Or: outside our time, unworthy of our interest? Or: plain snobbery? I have been attempting to get some answers to these questions. Quietly, one academic (no snob himself) suggested that there was snobbery about Macken’s work. Speaking to me a week ago Ultan, Walter Macken’s youngest son, said: “My father was a popular writer. But there was depth to the characters in my father’s work. They reckon his books sold a million copies in the course of his life.” A million copies between the first publication in 1946 and his death in 1967. At a time when media and publicity machines were aeons away Macken had a dedicated readership. Dickens was popular. Popular is no sin. Ultan Macken added: “Because he’s easy to read, academics never took account of him. […] It always hurts me, and it hurt my mother as well, that whenever they’re talking about famous Irish writers he’s never mentioned.” It hurt Walter Macken that his novel Quench the Moon was banned in 1948. His
American publisher wrote at the time: “Don’t they do that to the best books?” In all, three of his books were banned in Ireland. Macken’s son commented that the fates of characters in the books were a shaped by his father’s faith: “My father had a very strong belief in God and what was morally right.” His moral outrage found a voice in Brown Lord of the Mountain which deals with the rape of a young woman with special needs. The novel was based on a true story that Macken knew of, when a young Oughterard girl in similar circumstances had been made pregnant. Twice. His work didn’t always appeal to the commentariat’s view of the Motherland. Ultan’s biography of his father Walter Macken – Dreams on Paper (Mercier Press, 2009) recounts a scene where Walter commented on a review of Quench the Moon in the Connacht Tribune. The event described by Macken, the reviewer opined, could not occur in Ireland. Yet, as Walter wryly observed, there was a report of a similar incident in that same issue of the newspaper. Macken’s research, particularly for the trilogy, was intensive. In his book, Ultan Macken describes the months his father spent on all aspects of historical minutiae, and the journeys he made with his father as he plotted the routes taken by characters in Seek the Fair Land and The Silent People. Macken wrote about what he knew: the land, the people and their ways. He wrote in his time, of his time, and with his own and his time’s view of Ireland. Re-reading his work as an adult, one is struck by an individualistic, lyrical structure, often underscored by repetition of phrasing. His is not a Syngelike re-transmission from the Irish. His style is his own; giving voice to his own. How might Walter Macken be commemorated in his centenary year? Anne McCabe, artistic director of the Taibhdhearc said: “As Artistic Director, [Macken] was responsible for 97 productions including 76 plays. He was extraordinarily industrious, he wrote, translated, directed, acted, designed costumes and sets. The Taibhdhearc intends to celebrate 100 years of Walter Macken's birth in its programme next year, 2015, through a series of plays, readings and lectures for the summer season.” Eamon Maher suggests that a one-day seminar might be held at NUI Galway “which would bring together invited speak-
Plaque marking Walter Macken’s birthplace, St Joseph’s Avenue. Photo: Karen McDonnell
ers to discuss various aspects of Macken’s work.” Dr Maher is particularly interested in “the traces of Catholicism in his novels and […] how his own strong personal beliefs found an outlet in his writing.” The varied facets of Macken’s work and life would easily form the basis of a seminar at the University. The approach of the centenary year is an opportune time for the University to consider naming a lecture hall or humanities research room after one of Galway’s most prolific writers and actors. Wuppertal University holds 6000 Macken papers, for which Peggy Macken received approximately £8500. Ultan Macken retains copies of letters written by his father, and family documents, which he says will be for his children to dispose of. He would like to see the Wuppertal archive repatriated, if possible. Asked how his father’s centenary should be marked, Ultan Macken’s response was immediate: “There should be a statue of him in Galway. That’s what I would like to see. And the papers returned. I don’t think he is forgotten.” He let Walter’s words voice his legacy: “When people pick up my books in a hundred years time, they will read them and say, so that’s how people lived then”. Next year the people and institutions of Galway have a chance to celebrate the work and centenary of Walter Macken. At the very least, the plaque on the wall should be refurbished. A statue would be better. The campaign starts here.
Snippets Irish-American writer Mikal O’Boyle recently launched her first book. For young adults, Snake the Gypsy is narrated by the elderly Snake, who looks back on her youth. What is fiction and what is true memory? O’Boyle came to NUI Galway on her study year abroad. In true romantic fashion she met a local at her history lectures. Now married and the mother of a little girl, O’Boyle lives in Galway and is still involved with the University as a member of the volleyball team. Snake the Gypsy was launched by the Minister for Arts, Culture, & the Gaeltacht, Jimmy Deenihan. It can be purchased on Amazon and Book Depository as a hard copy or on Kindle. See www.facebook.com/ snakethegypsy · · · After an omnibus performance of all six shortlisted plays on Friday 14 March, this year’s Jerome Hynes One Act Play award went to Russell Browne’s Café. The play revolves around a couple’s efforts to understand their complex relationship and how such attempt ‘transforms into the demise of their twisted reality’. The play featured Ryan Hehir and Dee Ní Closcaí, and was directed by Julie Breen.
Book Review: Killing is Harmless by Brendan Keogh By Dean Buckley One day, as the now-fledgling field of video game criticism looks back on its history, it will count Brendan Keogh’s Killing is Harmless among its foundational texts, just as Old English criticism looks to J. R. R. Tolkien’s “Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics”. As with the latter text, Killing is Harmless focuses on a single text, namely Yager Development’s “Spec Ops: The Line” – a modern-day adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness set in the ruins of Dubai in the aftermath of a series of devastating natural disasters – that has been hailed as one of modern gaming’s most monumental achievements to date. Keogh has been a pioneering voice in the field of video game criticism for some time, but Killing is Harmless is his first book on the subject. Even apart from its subject, the style of Killing is Harmless differs from the academic consensus – it’s impressionistic and experiential, discussing the game not as a text distanced from its reader, but as an undertaking of the player, an ordeal, in fact. As he carries the reader along on his journey through the psychologically tortured and increasingly deranged world of Captain Martin Walker, Keogh’s writing is lively, engrossing
and, more importantly, accessible. It eschews dense academic terms in favour of intimate and visceral reactions to a game that surely demands them. Familiarity with the game itself is not a requirement for reading the book, though it certainly helps to have a frame of reference against which to compare Keogh’s musings. And, to be a bit critical for a moment, what Keogh gives us really is mostly musings rather than concrete observations. Yet, Keogh, in showing us his process of experiencing the game – how he catches symbolism, reacts to the narrative and wanders off on tangents inspired by the many pertinent questions the game raises about the nature of violence, game design and choice – lets readers know that it’s okay to have these thoughts. In a world that still tells you you’re “reading too much into” games for daring to think they might be thematically rich or socially conscious, that’s a big deal. Killing is Harmless should be lauded for giving validation and assurance to people who are having their thoughts, opinions, feelings and experience devalued by an ever-sneering critical establishment. That’s why I must recommend Killing is Harmless (just €5 on Kindle) to any discerning reader.