Walter Macken

by Ultan Macken

  We are expecting to publish ‘I Am Alone’ on November 18th. The advance copies are already in the house, and so I am sending you your six author’s copies, and the six further copies you require. I hope you will like the appearance of the book. I will write to you from time to time to let you know how it is going, and you will of course, as always, have weekly clippings of reviews from us.

  Are you still acting? You do not say whether ‘Rain on the Wind’ is fiction or not. I can’t help admiring and envying your energy.

  With all good wishes,

  Yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  It took Macmillan almost two months to give him their first res-ponse to the MS of Rain on the Wind. Thomas Mark wrote to him:

  11th January 1950

  Dear Mr Macken,

  As Lovat Dickson mentioned to you in his last letter, I have been asked to write to you about your ‘Rain on the Wind’, no doubt because I was the last to read the MS.

  I know just how an author feels about any far-reaching criticism of his book, but I am sure that you will realise that we should not be induced to make it if there did not lie behind it a genuine response to what you have attempted, and desire to see it presented to the best advantage. Some of our most experienced advisors – those who saw your earlier books – have reported on your novel, and several of us here have read it, so what follows is a summary of several opinions.

  Everyone feels that your book contains passages that are as good as anything you have written, particularly in descriptions of action, such as the boats in the storm and the affair with the English poachers, but there is unanimous agreement that it is far too long for what is essentially a rather slight story. We estimate the extent at not less than 150,000 words, and the general view, though I shrink from conveying it, is that it should be cut down by a least a third. This will, I know, mean sacrificing passages that have cost you a great deal of trouble and are admirable in themselves, but we are sure that the abridgment will improve the book and its prospects of success with the public.

  You are obviously tempted to put down everything as clearly and completely as it comes into your imagination and memory, but if every incident, dialogue, and piece of self-communing is given its fullest expression, the story tends to be swamped, and the book has the effect of a series of episodes with no marked organic relationship.

  The political–philosophical passages are not very valuable, and the anti-English outbursts not only seem extraneous but are scarcely magnanimous in present circumstances, and cannot gratify many of your potential readers. If you would like to have a few specimen suggestions, I should recommend that the first two chapters could be telescoped into one, that the description of Pa might be shorter, and that the account of the mackerel fishing should be given a space more proportionate to its importance to the story. Chapter 11 is lengthy, and in Chapter 13 the long account of the Aran Islands and their people is not really relevant to the fact that Peter came there to meet his end. (I would rather have a fuller explanation of the Claddagh at the beginning of the story.) There is another long chapter after Peter’s funeral, and possibly funerals altogether get rather too much emphasis in the book. In Chapter 19 a good deal of what Jo has to say could be dispensed with; she appears self-righteous and one loses one’s liking for her.

  On smaller points, I think that some of the short phrases might be made into more orthodox sentences, and that the ‘And he … and he … and he’ might be employed less freely, as the effect is spoiled when it is constantly recurring. Short single sentences treated as separate paragraphs take up room on the printed page, which is a consideration in a long book, and I have marked places where they scarcely appeared to earn their prominence.

  I wonder if the end could be made a little clearer. Novel-readers always like to be certain whether or not the boy gets girl, and Maeve’s thoughts on page 362 make this doubtful.

  Each new novel has to win its public nowadays, for the seller’s market has gone for books as for so much else. One sad instance of this is the fact that so far we have only succeeded in selling some 1,500 copies of ‘I Am Alone’.

  I hope that you will read these comments in the most charitable spirit, however strongly you may disagree. The most important matter is, of course, the abridgement of the whole MS, and I may end up saying, after so much that may have appeared discouraging, that there is no doubt as to our wishing to publish the book if you would reduce its extent to about 100,000 words. We are returning the MS for this purpose under separate cover, by registered post.

  With all good wishes,

  I am,

  Yours sincerely,

  Thomas Mark

  My father went to work on his MS and in ten days he cut the original manuscript as suggested and replied to Thomas Mark:

  31 Ardpatrick Road.

  January 19th 1950

  Dear Mr Mark,

  Thank you for some parts of your letter of the 11th. For the pain you took with it and the advice you gave me about ‘Rain on the Wind’.

  I have spent the past week cutting 50,000 words out of it, and it is a terrible experience and contains a terrible lesson. I have no doubt that in the future I will be grateful for your advice and glad that after a struggle with myself, I accepted it, but at the time of cutting it seemed like chopping off the limbs of a new-born baby with a rusty knife. Anyhow ’tis done and cannot be undone. It is cut down to the bare bones (it seems to me) but I hope that the slight story (I would have preferred if you had used the word ‘simple’ which it set out to be) will gain stature from the painful operation. I left the end as it was but I deleted the doubtful words of Maeve on page 362 so that all doubt ought to be eliminated.

  Whenever I come to writing a book again, I will not forget this past week. It will be a blue headline in my brain. I am enclosing the MS under separate cover and hope you will find that I have done with it as you advised.

  Yours sincerely,

  Walter Macken

  Macmillan accepted the new shortened version of the novel for publication. My father was delighted:

  31 Ardpatrick Road.

  Feb. 11th 1950

  Dear Dickson,

  Thanks a lot for your letter of the 7th and your letter and contract of the 9th February.

  I didn’t know I had written such an agonised letter over the cuts of the book, but I regarded them mainly as a salutary lesson and felt, even though the pain was sharp, that it was all for the best and that it held a lesson for the future. And then whatever about my ego I knew that your advice was good. It has always been so and your acceptance of the revised version is encouraging to me: I feel now, cautiously that I am on a good road as long as I stay on it and keep out of the by-ways.

  About Mr Latham, when I sent the MS of the book to you I also sent a copy to the Viking Press. I don’t know why, unless I had a despairing feeling that two chances were better than one. I haven’t heard from them about it, but perhaps you would like to get in touch with them?

  They took such a beating over ‘Quench the Moon’, apparently, that they would be doubtful, and their ideas about this new one would be similar to your own. However, you might handle it and see what they think. The original contract is void, I think, because they turned down ‘I Am Alone’. I am enclosing the agreement with this, duly signed and hope it will be good for both of us.

  With all good wishes,

  Yours sincerely,

  Walter Macken

  The publication of his third novel was on its way now and I suspect that neither he nor Lovat Dickson realised it would become the huge bestseller that it was.

  Macmillan & Co. Ltd.

  2nd March 1950

  Dear Macken,

  Thank you for your letter of February 27th, and for the copy of the letter you wrote to Mr Latham at Viking Press. We have arranged to send you an extra set of galleys of ‘Rain on the Wind’. By the time you receive them, you will know what Viking Press mean to do. If they decline the book, you can
send the additional corrected proofs to the New York Macmillan Company, and if they accept it, you will already have advised Mr Latham and in that case the extra set can be used for Viking Press.

  We did receive notification that ‘I Am Alone’ is banned in Ireland. The reasons given for banning it are obviously not those in the minds of the censors. It is possible to appeal against such a verdict, but I am sure you will agree that it is not worthwhile in this case. They plainly do not want the book to circulate.

  Yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  Some good news came in May of 1950:

  Macmillan & Co. Ltd.

  19th May 1950

  Dear Mr Macken,

  You’ll be glad to hear that we have arranged for a Dutch edition of ‘I Am Alone’. This Dutch edition will be published by the Catholic Book Club in The Hague. We have obtained a fee of £100 as a fee for this special edition. It is unlikely that it will be published before the middle of next year, but as soon as complimentary copies are received, they will be forwarded on to you.

  Yours sincerely,

  R.Z. Allen

  12

  FROM ACTOR TO FULL-TIME WRITER

  M.J. Molloy the playwright, wrote to my father telling him that an American producer had plans to stage his The King of Friday’s Men on Broadway and that they wanted my father to play the part of Bartley, as he had played the role in the very successful Abbey production in 1948. In May, Peter White, from the production company, wrote to my father while we were on our annual holiday in Bunbeg in Donegal:

  Mr Walter Macken,

  c/o Breslins Hotel,

  Bunbeg,

  Co. Donegal.

  Dear Mr Macken,

  Michael Molloy has suggested we write to you regarding the American production of ‘The King of Friday’s Men’. We are extremely interested in having you to do the part of Bartley on the basis of Molloy’s high recommendation and the notices you received in the ‘Irish Press’. We plan an early Fall production, for which you would have to be available about July 1st. We understand there is a problem about your coming to America because of contract obligations at the Abbey. We feel confident that acting Bartley over here would foster great success for you in the American stage and motion picture industry.

  We would greatly appreciate direct correspondence from you on this matter stating the conditions of your availability and your terms, should you get leave of absence from the Abbey and come here for our production. I am sure we can agreeably discuss terms, besides we are in a position to help you get additional contracts after the run of this play, should you desire them.

  Sincerely,

  Peter White

  This holiday in Donegal was a very special one. We were staying in a hotel/guest-house right at the foot of Mount Errigal (Ireland’s second largest mountain). I have a distinct memory of seeing wild eagles flying over the top of that mountain. There was a lovely river running right through Bunbeg and each day my father went fishing. He didn’t catch anything and on our last day we went up beyond the waterfall. He was using a small short trout rod and he hooked a big salmon. The salmon, instead of staying in the pool, headed off down-stream. My father and I followed him, walking through pools, over small waterfalls and still the salmon fought on. Finally the salmon tired and my father was able to net him. The fight had lasted almost an hour and as we ran down towards the village, we saw the bus waiting for us. My mother had persuaded the bus driver to wait for us and there was a great cheer when we finally got on the bus, especially when they saw the large salmon my father had landed.

  After the holiday, two more letters came from Peter White:

  The King of Friday’s Men Company,

  Room 906,

  1619 Broadway,

  New York 19.

  June 7th 1950

  Dear Mr Macken,

  I acknowledge with thanks the receipt of your pictures. Could you let us have word regarding your availability for our production. I see your best man, Gary McEoin two or three times a week. He hopes very much you are coming.

  Sincerely,

  Peter White

  Obviously my father replied telling Peter he was interested and received the following response:

  The King of Friday’s Men Company.

  June 22nd 1950

  Dear Mr Macken,

  In reply to your good letter of June 6, we acknowledge your attitude of cooperation and your friendly desire to further the chances of Michael Molloy getting a successful American production.

  We make you the following offer, which we believe is fair to both sides; round trip transportation for yourself and wife, and $1,500 for the four week rehearsal period and a two week playing period. If, the play becomes established after two weeks running period, we will pay you a salary of $250 a week. In the event that you are acclaimed a star and the play becomes what is known as a hit, we shall reconsider the matter mutually.

  A condition of this offer is that we become your American representatives, with the understanding that all contracts and commitments will be subject to our approval. David Garrity, the publisher, is helping promote the play through his Irish Book Club, and he mentioned an interest in publishing your novel if someone else refuses it.

  Yours sincerely,

  Peter White

  By the time we returned from our holidays, it looked as if everything was ready for my father’s first visit to Broadway. Another letter from Peter White added to the excitement. (It is clear from later correspondence that my father signed this contract and the $1,500 advance payment was made to him.)

  The King of Friday’s Men Company.

  July 11th 1950

  Dear Mr Macken,

  Thanks for your good letter of June 26th. We are delighted you have decided to come with us. As for living expenses in New York, the League of New York Theatre Producers has recommended that the cast be put on $15 a day living expense account during the two week try-out period, which should settle your concern.

  Arthur Shields’ wife has just died, and this has somewhat held up the negotiations. We expect that he will be the director. We will give you the final confirmation and let you know when we want you as soon as we can.

  Garret Johnson, now calling himself Gary McEoin, is currently managing circulation and editorial matters at a Spanish language newspaper in New York called ‘La Prensa’. He took your address from me, so I expect you will be hearing from him. He is going to tell a new publisher about your book [‘Rain on the Wind’], in case you have no luck with the old established ones.

  Sincerely yours,

  Peter White

  There was more good news a few days later concerning an American publication of Rain on the Wind, which had been rejected by Viking Press. Mr Latham was now working for Macmillan.

  Macmillan & Co. Ltd.

  14th July 1950

  My dear Macken,

  Thank you for your letter of July 12th. We have now settled terms with the New York Macmillan Company for the publication of ‘Rain on the Wind’. There is to be an advance of $750, against royalties of 10% to 5,000, 12.5% on the next 2,500 and 15% thereafter. These are very satisfactory, indeed quite generous, terms, and we are glad to have been able to work out so good an arrangement for you.

  As you know, we have the English language rights on ‘Rain on the Wind’, and strictly speaking, we should be able to set off the American income against the English one. We have, as you know, published all your books (although we have had many a discussion with you along the way) with the firm faith that eventually you would establish yourself as a novelist on a big scale. Perhaps Mr Latham was influenced by our faith, although I like to think that what did attract him was the unusual vitality in your work which promises such good things for the future.

  We propose, therefore, to deal with the American royalties as though they were yours, and we propose to act merely as your agents, collecting the royalties on your behalf, and dealing with the subsidiary and other rights. We do this f
or many of our authors, and we charge a commission of 20%, which I hope you will find satisfactory. I should add that in the past when we negotiated the Viking contract for you, we used to charge 10%, but with increased costs we have found it necessary to charge 20%. On the whole, as I think you will see, you will come out of the arrangement very well.

  I am delighted to hear that you are going to New York to act, although rehearsing in August on Broadway will be an unenviable experience. However, the pay as you say is very good, and it is an excellent idea for you to see America and for America to see you. It will be very good if the play lasts for a bit, and the novel comes out in America while you are acting on Broadway.

  That fishing story of yours is wonderful to read. You must have had a lovely holiday.

  With all good wishes,

  Yours sincerely,

  Lovat Dickson

  My father and mother always said that life-long friendships can be counted on the fingers of one hand. One such friend was an American journalist, John McNulty. They first met by accident when my father was touring with a company set up by Cyril Cusack, with John Millington Synge’s Playboy of the Western World. My father always played the part of the father of the playboy. While he was performing in Cork city, we were staying in the Bunnyconnellan Hotel near the lovely coastal town of Crosshaven. While my father was rehearsing, we spent our time around the hotel and met John McNulty who was making his way around Ireland and happened to be staying at the same place. My mother told him that her husband was acting in a play and was also a writer and when my father met him they became fast friends. A few days later it was time for him to return to America and he was sailing from the port of Cobh in a huge liner. He walked down the hotel’s garden that evening with me, holding my hand, and we had a conversation that he included in his article for the New Yorker, published in September 1950, and later included in a book he published. His friendship continued through the wonderful letters he wrote and the letters my father wrote to him. He was born in Lawrence, Massachusetts and fought in the First World War, where he was wounded as an infantry sergeant. After the army he attended journalism school at Columbia, he worked for the Associated Press and then worked on newspapers in Columbus, Ohio, and Cleveland before returning to New York in 1935 where he really found his niche as a columnist with the New Yorker magazine. My mother told me that John had been married when he was young. His wife had a nervous breakdown and was committed to hospital. Although John was Catholic, he eventually got a divorce. By the time we met him in the 1950s he was remarried to a lady called Faith.