Agnes O’Shea was born in Killorglin in 1917, one of 20 children born to Paddy and Margaret O’Shea who lived on Langford Street where they owned a wool merchants. But, by the time she died in 1997, Agnes had mysteriously severed all ties with her Kerry roots and had become known to all as a quintessential middle-class English woman who called herself Kim Morrison.
Now, in a remarkable new book, her son, Blake Morrison, reveals the fascinating yet until recently mysterious story of his mother’s life as well as his own painstaking discovery of it when he ransacked her wardrobe in search of the true story.
Staff journalist, EVE KELLIHER, takes a closer look at the fascinating story.
THE story of how a doctor and mother regarded as an Englishwoman throughout her adult life was actually a Kerry-born Catholic has rocked the literary world.
In his book "Things My Mother Never Told Me", author Blake Morrison looks at the fascinating yet until recently mysterious story of his mother’s life as well as his own painstaking discovery of it.
The author charts the odyssey that took Agnes O’Shea from Killorglin to university in Dublin and then to wartime England.
Agnes O’Shea was born in 1917 to a Catholic family in Killorglin. She died 80 years later, looked upon by all who knew her by the name Kim Morrison as a quintessential middle-class English woman.
The day after his mother’s death Blake "ransacked her wardrobe, in search of God knows what" and uncovered a stash of artefacts that built up a picture of his mother’s Catholic upbringing.
His curiosity piqued, he embarked on research that took him back in time as well as distance, across the Irish Sea to Kerry where he made the acquaintance of cousins and other relatives he never knew he had.
Changing her name from Agnes to Kim, her reinvention was such that it wasn’t until after her death that her son, with the aid of a cache of letters she had written in her youth, uncovered his Irish heritage.
Blake Morrison was born in Skipton, Yorkshire, and is the author of the bestselling memoir "And When Did You Last See Your Father", as well as a novel, two collections of poems, a children’s book, two opera libretti and a study of the Jamie Bulger case.
Agnes O’Shea was the 19th of 20 children – only 13 of whom survived beyond infancy – born to Paddy and Margaret O’Shea (née Lyons) who lived on Langford Street, Killorglin, where they owned a wool merchants. She was educated at Killarney’s Loreto Convent and studied medicine in University College Dublin, from which she graduated in 1942.
From there she went to Salford in the North of England, working at numerous English hospitals during the Second World War.
She married another doctor, Arthur Morrison, a northern English Protestant whose dislike of Roman Catholicism probably caused her to give up her religion.
Her son notes how she suffered in silence with depression, migraines, anxiety attacks and dizzy spells.
The author now reads the various physical ailments she suffered during her life as a reflection of the "tumour of sadness" that came from the struggle with her identity.
Kim was even vague about the town she grew up in and the number of siblings she had.
However, her son maintains her sacrifice came not from shame at her roots but owed much to male dominance and anti-Irish and anti-clerical Englishness of the time.
In a letter to her husband in 1944 she states: "You imply that RCs are uneducated people (and vice versa). Please remember that I am one. Anything else in the world I could give up willingly for you. But can t you see how much it means? Can t you just get used to the idea of my being what I am?"
However, even at that relatively early stage of the romance Arthur stated in his reply: "Oh darling I do love you, you know. I hate having to try to teach you to learn my beliefs. I want you to reason them out for yourself, and to see that what it means to be one of God s servants is very different from what it means to be an RC."
By the time the couple had settled down to married ife, Kim had resigned herself to never talking about her religion or her past.
"Like her name, like her accent, like her origins, like the number of her siblings, she preferred to let it go. More than letting it go, she was active in concealing it," writes her son.
Although he had visited Killorglin as a child once, he returned while researching the book.
At the end of the final chapter the author promises himself a return trip to Killorglin and resolves to climb Carraunthohill and meet more cousins, which he duly did towards the end of 2002.
"I was with my wife and two children and one of our friends and we had a scary hour on the top of the mountain it was very cold," he said.
"We came down rather bedraggled. It s a lovely adventure to look back on," he added.
Although the Morrison children regarded the cousins on their father s side almost as siblings, the author notes "Ireland seemed a continent away, and my mother s family as remote as an Amazonian tribe".
"I ve been to Killorglin three times altogether but hope to return again," Blake Morrison told The Kingdom.
"My recent trip was partly holiday and partly to find out a bit more. I had one holiday in Killorglin when I was five and also while my mother was still alive, in 1995, I was invited to Listowel Writers Week.
"On my recent trip I met my auntie Bridie and cousin Marguerite."
Describing the town of Agnes s birth as "delightful", he adds: "The impression my mother gave of the place in the letters and to some extent to us was that it was a boring spot with not a lot to do there but I think she had a restlessness to go elsewhere."
Although Kim died five years ago, her legacy still intrigues her son.
"I knew she was Irish but had a habit of forgetting where it was she was from," he said.
"I knew she was called Agnes but didn t know how far into the relation-ship with my father she had been rechristened.
"My cousins and Bridie always refer to her as Agnes and I always do a double-take when I hear it.
"I knew she was Catholic I worked it out when I was 12 or 13.
My auntie Sheila would come to stay with us and go off somewhere else on Sunday.
"My mother said she was going to a different church and I d ask different how? And was told she was Catholic.
"My father s father was full of anti-Catholic prejudice and my father inherited it. That much is clear in the letters that they could never marry."
Getting in touch with his Kerry heritage has, overall, been a positive experience, he says adding he hopes to organise a return visit in the future. "I ve certainly felt welcomed there. I m also more in touch with more cousins than a few years ago.
"My relatives Marguerite and Bridie and Gina have been very welcoming and warm.
"I never had that contact as a child and belatedly having some is wonderful. You never think of the Irish bit of you when you re mother downplays it but I am half English, half Irish.
"Part of discovering my mother s life was due to self-exploration. All that s been great there were no terrible secrets and the letters weren t at all shameful. It made this world alive for me in a way it hasn t been before."
Blake Morrison s "Things my mother never told me" is published by Chatto and Windus and is available in all good local bookstores.