Madam, - In her interesting article (Oct 25th), Catherine Ghent discusses the topic of defamation of the dead, from which there is currently no legal protection whatever. As I read, I kept thinking of a case of deep concern to me.
Colm Tóibín's play, Beauty in a Broken Place, recently produced by the Abbey Theatre, dramatised events round the first production of Sean O'Casey's masterpiece, The Plough and the Stars. Part of it dealt with the refusal by some cast members, notably F.J. McCormick and Eileen Crowe (my parents), to say certain lines, on grounds of moral scruples that seem quite ludicrous now: and with F.J.'s words during the riot, distancing the players from the play.
Though they may have been regretted later, these things happened, and it is proper that they should be there in Mr Tóibín's work.
However, not content with the facts, Mr Tóibín decided to go further, and to pillory those who were not on O'Casey's side. My mother was depicted as superstitious and poorly spoken; but much worse was the treatment of my father, who was portrayed as a truly despicable human being - and an inferior actor as well.
Ms Ghent writes: "A statement is defamatory if it tends to lower the person in the eyes of right-thinking people"; and that was certainly the case here.
Ms Ghent also talks of "responsibility. . .to ensure that what is published is true". True? Just two examples to indicate the standard.
Lady Gregory is shown as feeling contempt for my father: in reality, she dedicated her next play to him. We hear his acting belittled by O'Casey, and hear no other opinion: but in reality, O'Casey was totally alone in his view - literally every other critic considered F.J. as either the greatest, or one of the greatest, of Abbey actors, and his enormous funeral in 1947 showed the public's high regard for him.
I can assure your readers that in a case like this a family member feels keenly the utter unfairness of the situation, and feels frustration that absolutely nothing can be done about it. (In this particular instance there is an added element, of disgust at the Abbey's treatment of its own former members.) - Yours, etc.,
DAVID JUDGE,
Palmerston Gardens,
Dublin 6.
Madam, - In her interesting article (Oct 25th), Catherine Ghent raises again the question of whether the right of the living to protect their reputation should extend to the dead.
The children of a dead person must suffer at seeing their dead parent defamed, and their distress is properly a matter of public concern.
But the law is not a subtle instrument, is for most people intimidating as well as prohibitively expensive, and I wonder if recourse to law is the best remedy. There are obvious problems.
For example, should serious writers be restrained from commenting about dead politicians unless they apply in their writing the standard of proof that a judge would?
Can the law distinguish effectively between responsible historical or journalistic comment which allows response and rebuttal, and irresponsible publication which does not?
As it happens, we have an example of defamation of the dead in a way not readily open to rebuttal in the recent Abbey production of Colm Tóibín's play, Beauty In a Broken Place. The play is about the first production of The Plough and the Stars, and accurately records that the late F.J McCormick and Eileen Crowe, members of the Abbey company, reacted to what they felt was the indecency of O'Casey's language in a way that to us, 75 years later, seems extraordinarily silly. No grounds for complaint there.
But the play portrays both of them, McCormick in particular, as contemptible people and McCormick as a poor actor, embittered by his lack of talent. None of this is true.
Such a misrepresentation on the stage of the Abbey, the theatre to which McCormick and Crowe gave their working lives, both gives it plausibility and sharpens the distress McCormick's and Crowe's family and friends must feel at their being so denigrated.
But should they have a remedy? And, if so, is the form of a civil legal claim the best or only one?
Indeed, is it possible to compensate for such distress with money?
If there were no family, or they were unwilling to engage in the legal process, should a third party, in the interests of truth and justice, be entitled to do so? (The obvious third party in this instance would be the Abbey Theatre itself, if it were not already cast as a defendant.)
Is there a danger that granting a legal remedy such as Ms Ghent proposes would inhibit the production of worthwhile plays? Should we tell those who care about people like McCormick and Crowe to accept their pain in the public interest?
I think Ms Ghent has done us a service by raising the issue, but that we need to give it a good deal more thought rather than reach for the quick fix of a change in the law. - Yours, etc.,
MICHAEL WILLIAMS,
Grosvenor Square,
Dublin 6.