Little Republics: The Story of Bungalow Bliss

by Adrian Duncan

Bungalow Bliss, first published in 1971, was a book of house designs that buyers could use to build a home for themselves affordably. It first appeared two years before Ireland was to join the EEC as a self-published catalogue by Jack Fitzsimons from his Kells Art Studios in County Meath. He and his wife designed and collated it and printed it locally. Fitzsimons sold these books out of his car to newsagents, petrol garages and bookshops.
Over the course of thirty years, Fitzsimons sold over a quarter of a million copies of his catalogue. The first edition contained twenty designs – the final edition contained two hundred and sixty.
This guidebook of how to build your own home radically transformed housing in Ireland. Now, for the first time, author and structural engineer Adrian Duncan looks at the cultural impact that Bungalow Bliss and the accessible bungalow design had on the housing market, the Irish landscape, and on the individual families who made these bungalows their homes.

Genres: Ireland, Nonfiction

231 pages, Kindle Edition

Published October 20, 2022

Reviews

[Isabella · Rating 5 out of 5]

A thoroughly researched book about a fascinating topic. Duncan's writing is engaging, and the pictures are effective in adding context. I thought the inclusion of a short story, revealed one scene at a time, at the start of each chapter, was creative, and also reminds us of the quintessential human element of building a house.

By far the best nonfiction book that I have read so far this year.

[Artem Gordin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Despite being dedicated to a rather narrow and specific theme, this book provides a wonderfully deep insight into the Irish society and recent history.

[Tom M (London) · Rating 4 out of 5]

A French couple, friends of mine, visited Ireland a few years ago and drove all round it. Afterwards, their only comment was: "nasty little houses". They will never return to Ireland and will never have anything good to say about it. For them, Ireland is not beautiful. What a tragedy.

An uncontrolled, officially encouraged wave of selfishness has besmirched every corner of Ireland's once unspoilt rural landscapes. The self-build construction of little bungalow houses, each one standing alone on its own plot of land, resolutely facing the road (even when that is not the best view) can never be reversed. Adrian Duncan thinks it was not only OK but was the manifestation of a great democratic act of redemption: the thousands of Irish people who had emigrated were now back home, and building houses for themselves.

This was all caused by one man, Jack Fitzsimons, who published edition after edition of his cheap handbook ("Bungalow Bliss") that explained how anyone could get a government grant for a small house, choose a design from the ones he showed, get permission for it, and build it themselves; no skill or imagination was required. So essentially it was a form of collusion between Fitzsimons and the authorities (local and national) that encouraged "ribbon development": bungalow after bungalow built along the roads that reach out from every Irish town and village.

The horror that this caused is belittled by Duncan as the revulsion of urban snobs, and he has nothing to say about the very poor quality of these bungalows (in terms of their urban and landscape planning, architectural design, and solidity of construction) as though these are things that don't matter. All he sees is "the People" expressing themselves and thumbing their noses at those who think they know better.

Now that the initial wave of bungalow building is over, a new wave of Irish construction is attempting to atone for a disaster that cannot be undone; this consists of improving the basic bungalows, often with the aid of architects who actually think about what they're doing: adding new extensions, reconfiguring the internal room layouts, using better-quality materials, making the windows bigger.

But the mess can't be cleared up and these little bungalows have ruined, forever, much of what was valuable in the Irish landscape. It's no good Adrian Duncan going on and on about how the Irish landscape was in reality a place of poverty-stricken bleakness and famine, far too romanticised by city-bound intellectuals, and that it's a good thing the ordinary people have now reappropriated it. There's something wrong-headed and recalcitrant in the way he praises these "new hovels" as a spontaneous outpouring of bottom-up Irish creativity and enterprise.

I find it very disturbing that an author who has published beautiful novels decided to take sides in this bitter national dispute - the wrong side.

[Differengenera · Rating 4 out of 5]

it's a beautiful book with interesting social history and very well-written. but: even if certain Irish Times columnists have said things which can come off as urban-centric or snobbish there is a good critique to be made of the pattern of dispersed settlements here which has to be extended beyond the endorsement of a 'vernacular modernism'. Waterway pollution, roads which have become unsafe for any mode of transport other than tank SUVs are all a legacy of lining roads with statement housing for which we have a history of v generous subsidies to 'farmers' and a corrupt planning system to thank. Would have been good to see some of the environmental, broader lived stuff considered

[Gayle · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reject tradition, embrace modernity

[Daniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the kind of book that academics wish they could write. Effortlessly comprehensive reflection on Ireland since the 70s. Really cool.