Sir, - Having attended a preview of The Shadow of a Gunman at the Gate Theatre and finding Martin Murphy's portrayal of Adolphus Grigson superior to the previous portrayals in underlining the latent violence of the character, I was surprised subsequently to read David Nowlan's review which berated him for playing the Orangeman with a Northern accent (July 17th). Even more surprising was the echo in Fintan O'Toole's Second Opinion that Murphy's portrayal was missing the point that the Protestants in O'Casey's plays are working class Dubliners like himself (July 20th).
Many indeed are, but others are not. One should not conflate The Shadow with The Plough and translate Grigson as Burgess. It is indeed hard to know which would have caused the greater offence to Grigson, being called working class or a Dubliner. A familiarity with the text leaves no ambiguity as to how O'Casey himself wished one character to be portrayed. Whereas a number of the Dublin characters are shown frequently to pronounce the preposition "of" as the Dublinese "ov", Grigson stands apart from all of them and pronounces it as "ay". Moreover, in place of the Dublinese "did ya", Grigson is written as intoning dud ya" in an unmistakable Ulster accent.
Such an experience should have forewarned me not to take too seriously either Gerry Colgan's review of the Abbey Theatre's Translations (August 1st) or its echo in Fintan O'Toole's Second Opinion. Colgan savages Kenneth Haigh's portrayal of the schoolmaster Hugh for supposedly projecting "an aura of, well, Englishness", and he steps up the campaign in subsequent correspondence by asking us to "think Mayhew, Micawber, Major or Mr Chips" (August 19th). As for O'Toole, he maintains that the "heavy British presence" in the production is declared by Haigh with every word and gesture" so that his portrayal of the Donegal schoolmaster is a failure "at every turn of hand and phrase" (August 13th).
Suitably prejudiced, I went to Translations expecting the worst from Haigh's performance. More fool me! For the character of the schoolmaster Hugh is in fact no ordinary Donegal man. His speech not only contains an inordinate peppering of Latin, but it constructs the vernacular in such an archaic and grandiose fashion that it proclaims Hugh to be a self conscious patrician willing to impart some, but certainly not all, of, his knowledge to the plebeian pupils whom he deigns to raise up. A century and more later, he would have belonged to that caste of teacher who insisted on appending the title of OS or NT to every epistle he might compose. My own school mates of the 1960s and the generation who preceded us will have no difficulty in recognising from Haigh's performance that Buzzer class of Irish teacher who declaimed Church Latin in such lofty tones when instructing us on the finer points of the Nicene Creed and other examples of Gregorian chant.
Kenneth Haigh provides for me a highly credible portrayal of such an over the top character. Perhaps the portrayal is not quite as over the top as might have been provided by a Micheal Mac Liammoir type of actor. And, unlike that other Englishman Mac Liammoir, Haigh's accent sometimes hints at his national origins. But what is thus revealed is not a Mayhew, but a rural and regional type of English accent that rests quite lightly on Irish ears and which is no more at odds with the Donegal setting of the play than when the highly praised acting of Derry Power, as Jimmy Jack, occasionally reveals his Cork origins.
Indeed, it can hardly be claimed for more than one or two of the cast that they constantly sustain an authentic Donegal accent, as distinct from a broader Ulster one. In no case, however, do such minor variations in accent detract by Kenneth Haigh. As Behan said of the begrudgers, go and see it for yourselves. - Yours, etc.
Finglas Road,
Glasnevin,
Dublin 11.