The collection is based on a single theme, namely, the publishing background to James Joyce’s Dubliners. The book did, indeed, have a very strange history. Its journey began in 1904, when Joyce submitted a collection of short stories to the publisher, Grant Richards. It was not until February 1906 that Richards accepted them. Unfortunately, Richards had problems with his printer who refused to set up the print for the story Two Gallants, as he objected to certain passages therein. Richards and Joyce had many debates and arguments about the deletion and modification of this and other passages in the book. Finally in 1907, Richards backed away from publishing the work. In 1909, George Roberts of the Dublin firm Maunsel & Co. accepted Dubliners and signed a publication contract in August of that year. However, Roberts had second thoughts about its publication soon after and the entire first print run of the book was burned before it was launched. Dubliners was finally published in 1914 by the original publisher, Grant Richards, a full ten years after it was written. McGrath seems to have had a great interest in discovering what influenced two successive publishers to reject the manuscript. Other items in the collection include an original Seán O’Casey letter to McGrath in which he enclosed a large signed black and white photograph of himself (P8/4). There are also press cuttings which comprise of an obituary of Oliver St. John Gogarty (P8/20) and a review of a book about Joyce (P8/21).

This collection documents Gerard Gallivan’s career as a playwright, comprising manuscript and typescript drafts of his plays and other works; correspondence with theatre producers, actors, publishers and writers’ societies; posters and programmes relating to his plays; diaries; photographs; and press cuttings.

This collection contains material relating to J. M. O’Neill’s career as a writer, including drafts and proofs of his plays and novels, press cuttings, publicity material and correspondence. A thesis discussing the significance of O’Neill’s work in the context of Irish writing is also included.

This collection is a fascinating record of the life and career of writer Kate O’Brien, providing not only a cross-section of her literary output, but also an insight into the private world of one of Limerick’s most prolific daughters. This body of material is an extremely valuable source for researchers in Ireland and abroad. It contains many personal items such as O’Brien’s correspondence with family, friends and admirers, diaries recording appointments and other news, and material relating to her financial affairs. Her long-term relationship with artist Mary O’Neill is reflected in a number of cards and postcards exchanged between the two women from the late 1940s until the year of O’Brien’s death. Letters from José M. De Areilza, one of O’Brien’s former students in Bilbao, suggest how living and working in Spain influenced the writer. De Areilza states the following in a letter dated 26 May 1952, ‘…this year I went to London for a short trip… and found at last the famous “Mary Lavelle” which I was looking for since years ago. You can imagine with what a tremendous anxiety I went through that pages and the vivid scenes of life in “Casa-Pilar” at Cabantes, Altorno. The book is really fascinating. And for me it was still more, because a whole world which slept in my memories, for years, woke up and dreamt again as in the golden times of adolescence. Thank you, Miss Kitty, for bringing to life that dear shadows of my youth!’ (P12/1/2/2/5).

O'Brien’s diaries, dating from the early 1960s and covering just over a decade, record the writer’s daily activities, appointments, travel plans, financial dealings and occasionally more personal information such as the state of her health or mood. The collection also provides insights into O’Brien’s financial affairs. A letter to the Collector of Taxes in London dated 5 June 1963 reveals her on-going struggle to control her finances, ‘…I am not resident in the British Isles. It is my intention to live there, but since I sold my house in Ireland three and a half years ago I have been in very bad circumstances; have been living as the guest of friends and relatives in Ireland or in Spain, am unable to pay rent anywhere, and earn only pittances… I cannot afford to rent even a bed-sitting room’ (P12/1/4/2/5).

The component of O’Brien’s literary work is mostly in draft format and often contains handwritten amendments. It consists of travelogues, articles, essays and short stories, lectures, biographies, novels, and material for radio and film. Essays and short stories in draft format include ‘Singapore has fallen’ (1942), ‘On Ballycottin Strand’ (1945), ‘Old Balls MacSweeney’ (1956), ‘Boney Fidey’ (1956) and ‘Manna’ (1962). Two drafts of ‘Presentation Parlour’, the author’s reminiscences of her aunts, are contained in the collection. One of these documents reveals a selection of possible titles for the final publication including ‘Presentation Parlour’, ‘Five Aunts’ or ‘My Aunts’ (P12/2/1/4/2/1). One of the most interesting components, however, is the body of material relating to O’Brien’s last novel, ‘Constancy’, which remained incomplete at the time of her death. The collection holds both handwritten and typescript drafts of book one and two of the novel, each containing their own amendments. O’Brien’s interest in poetry is also reflected in two handwritten drafts of a poem about Haverstock Hill executed by the author in 1964.

The collection also illuminates O’Brien’s dealings with her literary agents and publishers and includes publishing contracts outlining conditions relating to copyright, royalties, publishing rights and payments, as well as financial material and correspondence. The author’s involvement with broadcasting bodies such as British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), Radio Éireann and Radio Telefís Éireann (RTE) is also represented. A letter from Guy Vaesen from the Script Unit of the BBC dated 12 October 1973 refers to the script for ‘Pray for the Wanderer’, stating ‘It has not been the easiest novel in the world to dramatize and this final version is the fourth’ (P12/2/3/1/2).

Also of interest are mostly typescript drafts of articles produced by O’Brien from her home in Kent as part of the ‘Long Distance’ series for the Irish Times, addressing a variety of issues from Northern Ireland to Charles de Gaulle. There are also drafts of lectures for different audiences including the Europea degli Scrittori, Sir William Gibb School for Girls in Faversham, Canterbury College of Art, and Association of Professional and Business Women. Of additional interest is O’Brien’s involvement with educational projects such as the Catholic Youth Encyclopaedia, Irish Week in the University of Valladolid in Madrid, Spain, and the Canadian Association for Irish Studies in McGill University in Montreal, Canada.

Media coverage of Kate O’Brien includes reviews and articles relating to the author’s work dating from the 1920s to the middle of the 1980s, a scrapbook of press-cuttings from 1927 to 1934, and a number of articles on other subjects including the death of actress Katherine Cornell, the Burren in county Clare and politician Cecelia Lynch. There are also press cuttings relating to the death of O’Brien in 1974 in the Irish and British Press. Publications and other printed matter in the collection include works by Kathleen Cunningham, copies of two of O’Brien’s novels, ‘Without My Cloak’ (which contains the signature of Mary O'Neill's sister, Elizabeth Hall), and ‘Mary Lavelle’, a programme of a bullfight at Plaza de Toros de Madrid, and of the play ‘That Lady’ performed at Dipson’s Erlanger Theatre in October 1949. An essay by O’Brien entitled ‘As to University Life’ includes a handwritten note on the cover of the volume which reads ‘This may amuse you, pet – frightful misprints and all! It is causing uproar in the Governing Body of UCD – which was my hope & purpose in writing it’ (P12/4/7).

The photographic component provides a valuable record of O’Brien’s family life growing up in county Limerick, school days in Laurel Hill Convent, graduation from University College Dublin, close relationship with her sister Nance, travels to Spain and other locations, brief marriage to Gustaff Renier, literary commitments, life at The Fort in Roundstone, county Galway, move to Kent, England, and passion for cats. Some of the more memorable images in the collection include a black and white photograph of O’Brien’s mother Catherine as a beautiful young woman prior to her premature death from cancer (P12/5/1/1), two black and white images of schoolgirls from Laurel Hill Convent, some of the studio portraits of O’Brien (P12/5/2/1/1-17), and an image of O’Brien’s husband, Gustaff Renier (P12/5/1/31).

The collection also documents the sickness and subsequent death of Kate O’Brien in August 1974, and includes documentation from Canterbury Hospital relating to her personal possessions, copies of her death certificate, and correspondence between family and friends. The administration of the writer’s estate is also addressed, and significant documents include O’Brien’s last will and testament, a codicil of will, and material relating to Mary O’Neill’s dealings in her capacity as O’Brien’s Literary Executrix.

This collection is a comprehensive record of the life and work of Maurice Walsh, a figure who has a distinctive place in Irish literary history. At its core are multiple working drafts of his fourteen novels, five short story collections and other works which provide a window into Walsh’s creative process and the evolution of his narratives. They also highlight the breadth and versatility of Walsh’s literary output which extended from novels and short stories to plays, poetry and journalism. Of particular interest are drafts of his perhaps best-known novel, Blackcock’s Feather (P7/2/1/3/1-7), his short story ‘The Quiet Man’ (P7/2/2/1/3/1-5), later made into an Oscar-winning film directed by John Wayne, and the collection of short stories featuring the immortal character of Thomasheen James (P7/2/2/2/1-11).

The Maurice Walsh Papers also feature the author’s extensive correspondence with literary agents, publishers, broadcasting companies and film producers which provides interesting insights into the life of a professional writer. It reveals among other things the controversy concerning the sale of the film rights which proceeded the production of Trouble into Glen, Walsh’s only novel successfully adapted for film (see P7/1/3/1/2 and P7/1/3/2/1). The dispute, which involved Walsh’s American literary agents, Brandt and Brandt of New York, and his principal publishers on this side of the Atlantic, Chambers, resulted in his refusal to assist in the making of the film and soured his view of the movie business for life. Another interesting set of correspondence dates from 1940, when Walsh made a significant foray into politics by collaborating with Seán O’Faoláin in the writing of an article entitled ‘Ireland in a Warring Europe’. Published in The Saturday Evening Post, the article was a defence of Irish neutrality and generated much reaction. The surviving letters from Joseph Connolly, the censor, indicate the extent to which he tried to avoid undue alterations to the text and the keenness of the authorities that the piece should appear in print (P7/1/2/4/1-4).

The volume of correspondence includes much evidence of Walsh’s popularity. The royalty statements from his publishers and agents tangibly prove his success as a writer, and the letters from admirers (P7/1/2/3/3/1-7) give his audience a human face. One of the more unusual expressions of his fame was the establishment of ‘The Ancient and Honorable Society of Walshians’ in Montana in 1933 (P7/1/2/3/2/1-5).

With the exception of some official documents and a small number of photographs, the collection contains little in relation to Maurice Walsh’s personal life. The best insight into this aspect can be found in a short autobiographical note published in an unidentified work (see P7/2/7/5/5), which also shows Walsh’s gentle but brimming humour. Described by his friends as ‘quiet, easy-going, lazy-seeming’, Walsh’s reticence made him, perhaps, the true embodiment of ‘The Quiet Man’.