THE ATHLONE novelist and Irish Timesreviewer John Broderick (1924-1989) is a sadly neglected figure. Author of 12 novels and countless reviews and opinion pieces, the 20th anniversary of his death should not pass without some acknowledgment of his contribution to Irish letters. He took the public role of the writer seriously: he once stated in an interview with Julia Carlson that the Irish were "pathological" when it came to homosexuality and then took the daring decision to feature homosexual couples in several of his novels.
In The Trial of Father Dillingham(1982), for example, Maurice and Eddie look on their love "as a recompense which they owed to one another as outcasts and aliens in a hostile world". Then in An Apology for Roses(1973) Broderick describes a steamy sexual relationship between a priest, Fr Tom Moran, and a parishioner, Marie Fogarty; a daring story-line for the time.
Broderick was also harsh in his criticism of the crass acquisitiveness that governed many of the merchant class to which he belonged (the family owned the biggest bakery in the midlands). He had an ambivalent attitude to Roman Catholicism. Greatly attached to the cadences and solemnity of the Tridentine Latin Mass, he found it difficult to warm to the liturgical changes introduced after Vatican II. He worried about the future of Western civilisation due to the erosion of public morality.
He said, when interviewed by Caroline Walsh for The Irish Times, in 1976: "Materialism has done for us all. Everyone is now so self-indulgent, they will give up nothing – we can't go on like this. There will have to be a fresh start". A prophetic vision of Celtic Tiger Ireland
here?
Broderick's literary output is uneven. When he wrote well, he wrote very well indeed – witness
The Pilgrimage(1961),
The Fugitives(1962) and
The Waking of Willie Ryan(1965). Equally, when he was bad, he could be dreadful –
The Pride of Summer(1976) and
The Flood(1987) fall into this category. He once acknowledged that François Mauriac was the only literary influence of which he was aware, but in many ways he has more in common with the controlling Balzac, as can be seen in his constant need to impose his own reflections and words of wisdom on his fictional proceedings.
The Pilgrimageis a model of restraint. In a finely honed classical style, it relates how a serial adulterer Julia Glynn indulges her invalided husband Michael's hope of a miraculous cure in Lourdes. Julia suspects that her husband may be a homosexual and she thinks Irishmen in general "would [n]ever be able to dissociate lovemaking from the furtive, the sordid, the unclean". The last sentence of the novel caused controversy at the time: "In this way they set off on their pilgrimage, from which a week later Michael returned completely cured".
Some readers found it blasphemous that a sinner like Michael should be the recipient of grace. Broderick’s friend, the highly acclaimed French-American writer Julien Green, offered a different perspective in his Introduction to the French version of the novel by asking: “Since when has healing been exclusively available to the just?”
The Fugitivescontains some memorable descriptions of Athlone and its hinterland and it too is characterised by an economical style and objectivity that are usually lacking in the later fiction. Undoubtedly, Broderick's problems with alcohol contributed to the declension apparent as we move through the oeuvre – The Trial of Father Dillinghamis a notable exception to this. When it comes to depicting pressurised familial relationships, though – as in The Waking of Willie Ryan, Broderick has few peers. He knew provincial Ireland intimately and was not afraid to expose its foibles. Primary among these was pious religiosity, which he viewed as a mere mask for hypocrisy and social conformity.
Willie Ryan’s sister-in-law Mary justifies his committal to a mental home for 25 years by explaining to her son Chris: “He has never been to Mass or confession since he was a young man, and he didn’t change his ways in the asylum”. This same woman is highly critical of the church’s new-found interest in the working classes and points out the incongruity of the local priest driving around in a Mercedes when a Morris Minor would be more in his line!
In 1989 Broderick passed away in Bath, where he had moved in 1981. His funeral in Athlone was not well attended and the young writers to whom he had given such encouragement were significantly absent at his graveside.
Some 20 years on, the rehabilitation of his literary reputation has still not occurred. Attractive new editions of some of his better novels and non-fiction, along with Madeline Kingston’s life and work – all published by the Lilliput Press – make it possible for people to rediscover this unique voice of the midlands, which is well worth listening to.