Republic of Shame: Stories from Ireland's Institutions for 'Fallen Women'

by Caelainn Hogan

Until alarmingly recently, the Catholic Church, acting in concert with the Irish state, operated a network of institutions for the concealment, punishment and exploitation of 'fallen women'. In the Magdalene laundries, girls and women were incarcerated and condemned to servitude. And in the mother-and-baby homes, women who had become pregnant out of wedlock were hidden from view, and in most cases their babies were adopted - sometimes illegally.

Mortality rates in these institutions were shockingly high, and the discovery of a mass infant grave at the mother-and-baby home in Tuam made news all over the world. The Irish state has commissioned investigations. But the workings of the institutions and of the culture that underpinned it - a shame-industrial complex - have long been cloaked in secrecy and silence. For countless people, a search for answers continues.

Caelainn Hogan - a brilliant young journalist, born in an Ireland that was only just starting to free itself from the worst excesses of Catholic morality - has been talking to the survivors of the institutions, to members of the religious orders that ran them, and to priests and bishops. She has visited the sites of the institutions, and studied Church and state documents that have much to reveal about how they operated. Reporting and writing with great curiosity, tenacity and insight, she has produced a startling and often moving account of how an entire society colluded in this repressive system, and of the damage done to survivors and their families. Republic of Shame is an astounding portrait of a deeply bizarre culture of control.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Ireland, Irish Literature, Feminism, Religion, Politics

256 pages, Hardcover

First published September 5, 2019

Reviews

[Lynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book has literally changed our lives as a family. We are Irish and always knew my dad was adopted but he'd been told he was adopted as a very young baby and his mother's name and that's all. He said he'd tried to find info on her years ago but couldn't. There wasn't much more talk on the subject. Then I read the novel The Girl In The Letter by Emily Gunnis and my interest was piqued to learn more about the Magdalene Laundries. After a couple of searches came across Republic Of Shame and ordered it immediately. When it arrived I showed my dad and he casually mentioned, "Oh yes, I've always thought I may be one of those babies." I was stunned. I'd never thought about it so I dived straight into the book and was literally blown away. Not only by the horror of what these poor girls and their babies went through at the hands of the nuns and clergy but there in black and white was the name of the home my dad came from in Cork! Suffice to say my excitement was off the charts and because of the great resources Caelainn mentions in the book I've made contact with an organisation in Cork that have assigned a social worker to help us see if we can locate his birth mother (there's a tiny chance she's still alive) or her family. The book is a brilliant piece of journalism with so many intimate stories of those personally affected. If you have any interest whatsoever in this theme this book should be on your TBR list.

[CanadianReader · Rating 5 out of 5]

Caelainn Hogan has written a compelling, heart-wrenching, and often infuriating book about Ireland’s notorious mother-and-baby “homes” for unwed pregnant women and girls. In operation for most of the twentieth century, these institutions were run almost exclusively by Catholic nuns hand-in-glove with the Irish State. Their existence was fuelled by deep misogyny and a pervasive cultural perception of human sexuality as inherently shameful, dangerous, even evil. Even girls whose pregnancies were a result of rape or sexual abuse were not afforded compassion. Approximately 30,000 females were cast out of their homes and sent to these appalling places. Often the parish priest was called in to facilitate the transfer of a “sinful” young woman from the family home to an institution; in some cases, a priest might actually be the father.

An estimated 9,000 infants and children died in these mother-and-baby homes. Many deaths occurred as a result of malnutrition, measles, undiagnosed gastrointestinal illnesses, pneumonia, and convulsions. Epidemics weren’t uncommon. Large numbers of babies were buried secretly in unmarked, mass graves. At the most notorious home— operated by the Bon Secours Sisters between 1925 and 1961– in Tuam, County Galway, the remains of an estimated 800 babies and children were disposed of in a sewage tank.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the religious orders have claimed to have neither knowledge nor records of these burials. To this day, the culture of silence runs very deep. After 1952, when adoption became legal in Ireland, some of the homes discovered that there were profits to be had in adopting out able-bodied children to American Catholic couples, who promised to raise them in the Church. The couples were obliged to make donations to the Sisters for their services. As for the young mothers: they were invariably pressured into consenting to the adoptions. In some cases, nuns forged the signatures of the women and falsified birth certificates, making it difficult for mothers and the children they bore to trace each other in the future. Disabled and mixed-race children—considered unsuitable for adoption—were often transferred to industrial schools. Women who became pregnant a second or third time were often sent along to the Magdalen Laundries where they did penance as slave labour.

Hogan explores multiple aspects of this stain upon the Irish nation. The work and story of Catherine Corless, a local historian in Galway, is rightly highlighted. In childhood, Corless had attended school with some of the unfortunates from the Tuam Home. She and her classmates understood they were not to interact with these pitiful children. Their existence haunted her for years and prompted her determined search to find out what had gone on in the home. When a piece by Alison O’Reilly about Corless and her discoveries appeared in The Irish Mail on Sunday in the spring of 2014, the nation finally took notice. A Commission of Investigation commenced the following year, and the Commission’s final report was published on January 12, 2021. Hogan has immersed herself in the material surrounding what she calls “the industrial shame complex” of her native country. Her powerful book brings multiple strands of this story to those of us across the Atlantic. It is well worth your time.

Rating: 4.5 rounded up

[Colleen Browne · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought I knew a lot about the mothers and baby homes and the Magdalene laundries in Ireland. This book showed me just how much I did not know. I thought I could not be more disgusted with the Church in its treatment of the women, pregnant without being married, and their babies but I am. Examples for this disgust include a woman in Kerry who died of preeclampsia after she gave birth. While in labor, she was driven from one hospital to the next but was turned down over and over again because she wasn't married. Then when the priest of her parish was contacted to say the funeral mass for her, he refused because she had given birth without being married.

Hogan refers to the practices in Ireland surrounding this, the shame industrial complex. She states that mother and babies homes existed well before the Irish state was created but after it was with the domination of the church, they became a "sort of dark perfection." Further, she faults all of Irish society for being complicit in what was allowed to happen.

Young unmarried pregnant women were often forced to go to these homes: sometimes by their parents, sometimes by the parish priest, sometimes by the guardai. The nuns were change their names when they were admitted because it was a shameful thing to have a baby without the benefit of marriage. Before adoption. became legal in the country, some women were forced to stay in the home to work off their "debt". Some never were released. Those who were released could be forced to pay for the upkeep of the baby. When adoption became legal, the nuns made a profit off selling babies to the U.S., always making certain that the child went to a Catholic home and then be raised Catholic.

This is but a taste of the information that Hogan uncovered. There is so much more. It is a very well written, very well researched book.

[Aoife · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars.

A fantastic look into the criminal act that was the mother and baby homes system in Ireland, and all the ways the Church and State failed vulnerable women and children countless times during their operating years, and the failures following their closure. The devastation and confusion left in the wake of these homes is such a stain on the history of the country, and the way Caelainn Hogan investigated the beginning and endings of the home was done in a such a great way, I can only applaud her.

I also can only extend my love and sympathy to all the women and people who shared their own stories in this book, some whom have gotten the answers they need, others who never will. I'm so sorry this happened to you.

This is a book I think best read in bits. I took it slowly and read it chapter by chapter, taking time to put the book down for a day or a few hours between each chapter and thinking about the stories and accounts I heard whether it be from those in the religious orders, women who had been residents of the home or people born in them. Even the people with zero connection to the homes except for the fact their back garden was a baby graveyard. I really liked this way of reading, and I felt I was able to absorb and think and appreciate everything much better.

I really respect the kindness and respect Caelainn showed to everyone she spoke to in this book, and the people she was able to persuade to share some of their horrific truths and terrible memories. I also enjoyed some of the things she was able to point out in how she was treated by the nuns versus the local priest she interviewed (tea and biscuits laid out by the nuns, zero from the father himself).

While this book infuriated me, and I felt sorrow and rage on behalf of everyone failed by Ireland and the horrible power the Catholic Church had over everyone for such a long time - It's just hard to really think about the shame women felt for falling pregnant, sometimes through no fault of their own, and sometimes with the help of the local priest (!!) and how whole families would turn against their daughter/sister/cousin or they would believe they would, and go through the whole ordeal alone and in secret.

The one part that made me truly sad and brought me to tears was actually a 'happier' part of the book when the women returned to Dublin, and the "Magdalens" went to a special dinner in Dublin:

"The fleet of buses received a Garda escort; some of the women told me it made them feel nervous. When they alighted from the buses, they were met by a welcoming party holding home-made signs that read 'The women of Ireland salute you'. They walked through the crowd beaming, gobsmacked and vindicated, their cheeks wet with tears. Grey-haired men stood openly crying, clapping them on. Women pressed their faces against the railing to serenade them with 'Molly Malone' as they made their way inside. Even for those who had never left Ireland, this was a kind of homecoming, to a country that accepted them and embraced them. A country that believed them."

I really recommend this book to people who want to learn more. An excellent account of the horrors and failures of the worst thing in Irish recent memory.

[Molly Ferguson · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars. I thought the author did outstanding journalism in this book, but I had some issues with it as a reader. I didn't understand the organization of it; it seemed like stories just followed other stories as she collected them, or maybe they were organized by each location she went to, but the organization was hard to follow and sometimes the stories circled back to earlier topics or themes. I love the concept of the "shame-industrial complex," and this is the author's key contribution, but try as I might I could not find where she clearly articulates what this means or defines it, and I really wanted that somewhere in the introduction. There are some groundbreaking revelations here though, and you could FEEL Hogan's anger seething under the surface, which I really appreciated.

[Matt Bender · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is spectacular long form journalism. Hogan links the accounts of women and children being shamed, abused, isolated, commercialized, and imprisoned in institutions for “fallen women” and orphanages and laundries across Ireland. The scope of offenses and details of the victimization are shocking.

She identifies the intersections of church, state, local governments, law enforcement, and class that created and perpetrated the system. Her writing and insights are great, and the volume and diversity of sources are remarkable.

Her reporting includes interviews with women and adults who were victims as children, and with many nuns and priests who range from apologists and skeptics to ones that acknowledge some remorse. The ongoing national debate on acknowledgment and accountability is deeply addressed. A fantastic investigative work.

[Artem Gordin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very important book to understand Ireland. Not a pleasure to read, but it shouldn't be. Maybe a little torn between human stories and a analytical examination of a complex system. An excellent work nonetheless.

[Paddy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Grim as they are, it is good to see that these stories are being told at last rather than being concealed or sometimes literally buried.

To me this is yet another example of how the Church's influence completely shaped how the Irish state was run without being held accountable in any way. The women in this book were shamed and pushed into a horrible life. Yet there are still some that stand by this practice? For me, the real shame is on the state, the church and anyone else who was complicit in the running of the likes of the Magdelen laundries.

Proud to be Irish. Ashamed of this aspect of our history.

[Marta Cava]

si els casos de nens robats a l'estat espanyol us posa els pèls de punta, espereu-vos a llegir com es va gestionar tot això a Irlanda, que és el triple de gros

[Alwyn Duffy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This reads very much like long essays which make sense as it is primarily a work of journalism.

'Upon the deaths of priests who were serial abusers, the Church went to great lengths to bury their bodies in consecrated ground; but children who had done nothing wrong received no such respect.'

The resilience of the survivors of these institutions and an endemic culture of shame is astounding, as are those who spoke up when it seemed an impossible landscape. This is truly such a tragic part of Irish history and hard to read, but highly recommend to gain a greater understanding of what these women and children were put through. I learnt so much but there is still so much we do not yet know.

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Stunning indictment. I wish the book had been organized a little more coherently but, in the end, the number of mothers and children affected by the Irish state and the Catholic Church “shame industrial complex” is staggering. So many takeaways from this book, many personal as someone raised Catholic. Another stark reminder of why I’m glad I’m not part of that or any religious institution anymore.

[Joe O'Donnell · Rating 4 out of 5]

What does it look like when cruelty is Church-State policy? “Republic of Shame”, Caelainn Hogan’s investigation into the system of Mother and Baby Homes that operated in Ireland throughout most of the 20th century, perhaps provides an answer to that question. Given the disgrace and infamy of its subject matter, those with a passing knowledge of this era of Irish life may not be surprised to learn that this is a frequently furious book – but also a desperately sad one. You may think you know the outlines of Ireland’s system of Mother and Baby Homes, but to read the full details of how the process operated – and to read the testimonies of the victims of that system – is gut-wrenching.

“Republic of Shame” painstakingly shows how the mothers (many little older than children themselves) in these aforementioned homes were often sent there for being the victims of what was essentially child sexual abuse. In the warped Catholic morality of the time, these women were held to be culpable for this abuse, and further stigmatised by society through being labelled with terms such as “fallen women” and “offenders”.

Within these institutions the women had to endure atrocious living conditions, and these homes became notorious for appallingly high child mortality rates, with the bodies of babies sometimes being dumped in unmarked graves, and with inadequate burial records being kept by the religious orders who ran the homes. Othe women had their babies ‘snatched’ or forcibly adopted from them, and rehoused with so-called ‘respectable’ middle-class Catholic families. Indeed, Caelainn Hogan relates how the infant mortality rate in the Mother and Baby Homes only began to steadily drop when the religious orders realised they could make money out of such forced adoptions.

But this system of brutalisation could not have operated in Ireland purely through the support of the Catholic Church and the religious orders. “Republic of Shame” shows how it required the collusion and connivance of state institutions such as the Health Service, the medical profession, County Councils and An Garda Síochána. The Irish State funded the apparatus of Mother and Baby Homes, but washed their hands of overseeing them or attempting to ameliorate the abuse going on within them.

Caelainn Hogan has based “Republic of Shame” largely around a number of interviews – many of them utterly harrowing – that she conducted with survivors of Ireland’s Mother and Baby Homes. Hogan writes throughout with a sense of controlled fury, her undeniable anger at the injustices visited on generations of Irish women burning through the page. Despite this undoubted fury with the “shame industrial complex” that blighted so many lives, “Republic of Shame” is rarely overly didactic and Caelainn Hogan remains hugely empathetic throughout towards those women whose autonomy and identity was stripped from them by this pitiless system.

It would be easy for a reader of “Republic of Shame” to feel overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the callousness and cruelty demonstrated by the church-state axis. In this way, the book’s relative brevity comes as something of a relief. While one would hesitate requesting that an author re-immerse themselves in such a litany of horrors, it would be interesting to see Caelainn Hogan write an updated second edition of “Republic of Shame” that included the publication of the Report of the Commission of Investigation into Mother and Baby Homes in January 2021. That shambolic whitewash of an official report demonstrates how arms of the Irish State continue to disregard the lived experiences of women detained in the Mother and Baby Homes, serving only to prolong the pain of survivors of those dreadful institutions.

[Rachel · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a well-written book that was incredibly difficult to read. I could stomach reading about 20 pages at a time and it left me feeling infuriated at the culture and institutions that allowed this to happen. I kept hoping the author would end with some suggestions on ways to move forward and heal, but how do you heal from learning that your baby, who was born and died in a mother and baby institution, was buried in a sewage tank? How do you heal from an entire religious institution refusing to give a single shred of information to families that have been torn apart and destroyed by their policies? How do you justify allowing priests who fathered multiple children to be buried in consecrated ground while refusing that same privilege to babies they fathered? Unfortunately, I don’t think there are any answers.

[Liam Mac · Rating 3 out of 5]

Even though there is some useful information in this book, the author does not stick to the subject matter that is indicated by the subtitle.  "Institutions for Fallen Women" will convey, to anyone familiar with the subject, that it means the Magdalen Laundries.  This is reinforced by the photograph on the front cover showing inmates of the Magdalen Penitentiaries taking part in a religious parade, flanked by police.  There is in fact comparatively little about Magdalen Laundries in the book.  The author is largely concerned with the related subjects of mother and baby homes and the rights and wrongs of burial practices where dead babies are concerned, which is all very well in itself, but diverges from what the buyer of the book expects.  There are far better books on the subject of the Magdalen Laundries which are not difficult to find.  
Toward the end of the book the author attempts to make a comparison between the Magdalen Penitentiaries and the Direct Provision Centres.  For those not familiar with the term, "Direct Provision Centre" refers to temporary accommodation provided by the Irish government for recent immigrants.  This comparison is invalid and insulting to the survivors of the laundries.  Many of these survivors are still very much alive, having suffered for many years, sometimes almost a life sentence, at the hands of the religious orders, aided and abetted by a government under the thumb of lunatic clerics like John Charles McQuaid.  The residents of the Direct Provision Centres are not incarcerated against their will. They are not compelled to perform unpaid hard labour.  They are not punished for trying to escape, by being beaten or having their heads shaved.  They are not compelled to pray aloud all day.  Most of all, they do not have their babies forcibly taken from them and sent, via an illegal adoption system, to the USA. 
Caelainn Hogan owes the former inmates of the Magdalen Laundries an apology.   

[Naseerah]

Spent the entire time going back and forth between the first four stages of grief.

[Haaziq Zahar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Took me slightly longer to finish this book: Republic of Shame - How Ireland Punished ‘Fallen Women’ and Their Children by Caelainn Hogan. Side note: The author is younger than me! This book is a work of journalism, from the interim reports of the Commission of Investigation into Mother and Baby Homes to interviews with those who were part of the homes, the affected mothers, Sisters, nurses, adopted children and even the community around the homes.

The climax of this story was the uncovered of more than 800 babies who were burried in a septic tank at a maternity home for unmarried mothers and babies in Tuam. What should they do with the bodies? Who is to blame? The Church which ran the homes, the State which funded the operations? The neighbours who didn’t aware or pretended not to know about what went behind the gate?

Such a sad story about how women who were pregnant out of wedlock were hidden in these mother & baby homes where these mothers came voluntarily, sent by the religious people or being brought by their parents to these places, gave birth and their illegimate babies were adopted or died (super high death rate for babies in Ireland).

The burden of these pregnancies fell onto the mothers, where were the fathers? Families sent their young daughters to these homes, stayed & worked there for 2 years & with limited options, either have to agree to let their baby to be adopted or faced the public judgement. Sounds like in Malaysia right?

Amazing book. A must read.

[mia evelyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

“As with the Church’s treatment of women pregnant out of wedlock and their children, the priority was secrecy. But whereas women and children suffered for secrecy, male abusers benefited from it.”

I was living in Derry the year the news broke about the mass grave located in Tuam. It wasn’t something I ever remember talking about while I was living there, and the Commision’s report was concluded the year I left. It was never brought in even in jurisprudence lectures about the “ethics” of abortion. Even in one of my final lectures last year, a student my age casually used the term “living in sin” as a definition for cohabiting couples.

Strange for a country that claims to want to move on from it’s religiously abusive past to still somehow be so backwards.

Note: What I didn’t know until reading this was that a county over from where I was living, a mother and baby home operated until 2006. For how much I learned while living in the North of Ireland, I never knew I had lived so close to one.

EDIT: lmao also really not lost on me that 2-star reviewers are from devout catholics throwing fits about Hogan calling pro-lifers “anti-choice’s” (as if that isn’t what they are). your church got women thrown out their homes, abused and killed. have fun trying to deny that.

[Sara]

I don't rate nonfiction.

Facinating look into the mother and baby homes of Ireland. I was appalled that some of these homes were open until the late 1990s, and the shear scale of death, abuse and neglect that went on within their walls. Societal shame, female oppression and the powerful influence of the Catholic Church have a lot to answer for. And this is from someone who chose to baptise her children within this religion and have them attend Catholic schools - so yes, I get an opinion over the despicable behaviours of the nuns and priests who failed these often desperate women and their children. Caelainn Hogan does a really good job at collating a lot of information into relatively short and easy to read chapters. You can tell she really cares about this topic, and has a passion to spread and uplift the voices of the stories she hears.

[Lindsay Madigan · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a Christian, I feel it is my responsibility to educate myself on the Church’s history and its unfortunate role as the perpetrator in many countries own history. I bought this book in a local Irish bookstore and was appalled to have heard about these mother-and-baby homes in Ireland funded by the Church and State. It feels something out of a dystopian novel, but most of these homes did not close until the late 1990s and were not investigated until the 2010s. This was an eye opening book. One that you want to go and encourage everyone in your life to read. It is once again shocking to hear about such an epidemic yet it not be known or discussed much elsewhere.

[Ross · Rating 5 out of 5]

incredible! such a tough read but written with so much empathy and a meticulous level of research. a must read.

[Hannah O‘Neill · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful but painful journalistic exploration of the question why the “shame industrial complex”, the system of locking up unmarried pregnant women, taking away their children, and punishing them by forcing them to work in the infamous Magdalen laundries, was expanded after Irish independence and survived until the 1990s. How fair is it to vilify the Church and the religious orders in a society that was so misogynistic and a State that profited from this form of cheap labour, and that relied on religious authorities to justify its existence?

Caelainn Hogan is a master of storytelling and brings forward the stories of those mothers and so-called “illegitimate” children whose dignity and wellbeing was so horrifically disregarded. I really enjoyed how her own feelings, opinions, and experiences while researching for this book were never held back; her thoughts and reactions only show that these dark times are not that far away in the past, but how rapidly Ireland has changed in the last ~20 years.

The only critique I have is that I’d have wished for a further investigation into the “shame industrial complex” Hogan so aptly puts forward. Beyond the nuns cashing in on adoption fees and public hospitals getting their washing done by the laundries, what was the business behind this system? If “the domestic washing machine did more to abolish these institutions than the State ever did”, who profited from this form of slavery and how much exactly?

Ok, the review is over, from this point on it’s just me ranting.

The women of 1916 must really turn in their graves if they could have seen what Ireland turned out to be and how much their dreams were thrown under the bus by the likes of the de Valeras and McQuaids. There’s so many of these former institutions in the city I live and they bare witness to the inhumane Catholic morality of misogyny and ableism… this book really is an invaluable resource for understanding the psychological damage the victims had to endure, and yes, I would say the main culprit is the Catholic Church. When you read about this “new” right wing American misogyny/pro-life and pro heterosexual nuclear family bs of people like Erika Bachiochi who want to convince readers they have invented some novel twist on this - OH BOY can I assure you: this is just a cheap regurgitation of what the Catholic Church has come up with, and has been preaching for decades, centuries even. After finishing this book I am once again extremely relieved that I left this church some years ago (yes in the country I was born in you can officially do that).

There’s some really powerful quotes in the book. Mary McAleese speaks truth when she diagnoses the Catholic Church as the “primary carrier of the virus of misogyny”; at another point Hogan speculates that the religious orders prioritised morality over mortality when it came to “illegitimate” babies.

Everyone who wants to understand Ireland should read this book.

[Barbara · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Republic of Shame recounts the history of mother-and-baby homes in Ireland. The writer, thirty-years-old at the time (2017) interviewed as many people as she could who were part of this history. They included survivors of the homes - mothers and the children who were now adults, nuns who worked in them, as well as nurses, and in some cases families and clergy. Many were reluctant to talk to Hogan. Former residents were left traumatized, as were their families. Some families were complicit in sending their daughters to the homes, and wrote them off for the sin of being pregnant out of wedlock. Nuns who had worked in the home were the hardest to identify. There were numerous gatekeepers who kept Hogan away from the nuns. Sometimes they'd stall for years until the elderly nuns passed away. Other times they would say they nuns were too old or were suffering from dementia. Hogan was able to interview a few. What she found was denial that they'd one anything wrong, claims of ignorance of what was happening, and only one or two who expressed regret. Clergy were almost completely off limits to her. The few clergy she was permitted to speak with were mostly Bishops who stonewalled her.

I learned that the mother-and-baby homes were, for the most part, separate from the Magdalene Laundries. Girls - and most sent there were in their early to late teens- who were thought to be in "danger of leading men astray"were often sent to the laundries by their parish priest, and sometimes by their families. Some ended up spending their entire lives in the laundries, some of which functioned until the mid-1990's. Some of the girls and women were sent from the homes to the laundries. In Ireland until the late 1980's, it was almost unheard of for a single woman to keep and raise a child.

The most shocking aspect of the history of the homes is the number of babies and young children who died. In shame cases, they did not receive proper burial. In the case of the home in Tuam, it is believed that over 800 babies were buried in a septic tank. The hypocrisy of denying Christian burial to baptized babies is almost impossible to believe. The homes through Ireland had extremely high death rates among the babies. Although those connected to the homes gave many reasons for the high fatality rate, once adoption was law in 1952, and there was money to be saved (no more maintenance in the homes) and earned (through fees etc.), the number of deaths dramatically fell.

In my book group's discussion, there were a number of readers who felt the books was repetitive at times. It could have benefitted from more editing. Nonetheless, it is an important and readable history. Recommended to those interesting in women's history and Irish history.

[Shane Egan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not an easy read. Firstly because of the subject matter. The stories told of individuals who had been made to suffer within church and state run institutions are painful and infuriating. Through accounts from these women that Ireland has failed, the book helped me understand (what's known of) what had happened within the Mother and Baby Homes, and Magdelen Laundries. It helped me understand how these things happened, the organisations, people and processes involved. However it doesn't answer why these things had to happen. Why the culture of shame developed to such a degree in Ireland, as to resort to hiding illegitimate children and the women who bore them? Why the nuns acted so callously towards those institutionalised. Why, in many cases, they refuse still to acknowledge the full extent of the wrong they did, to help provide answers to those looking to find where their children are buried or help unite children and their birth mothers? The ongoing issues are well illustrated here and is reason enough to recommend this book to everyone living in Ireland today.

The other reason I found it difficult was due to the density of information presented. There are a lot of names, places, organisations and events presented, all while jumping forward and back in time. I took my time with it, reading much slower than usual to ensure I could absorb it as well as possible. Highly recommended.

[Alan Tennyson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Caelainn Hogan's Republic of Shame tells us what we all knew. Everyone knew.  Everybody knew and either denied that knowledge or explained away their actions as they took part in it.  Everybody knew but determined that it was an inescapable act of nature, like the rain.  And when we say everyone knew, not only did everyone know women were being unlawfully imprisoned in mother and baby homes and Magdalen Laundries, everyone knew (including the state) that the rates of death in these mother and baby homes far exceeded that of babies and children in any other place in Irish society at the time.  Church, State and public knew they were dying of neglect.  But when circumstances changes and when children could be sold, they stopped dying, then they had a value and could be sold to 'good' families.  As one survivor ruefully observes,  

'When we illegitimate Irish Bastards were suddenly worth more than the cows on the farms, we stopped dying by the thousands.'  

Many of us who grew up in rural Ireland also grew up with septic tanks. A mysterious pit often at the bottom of the garden, which would occasionally overflow. We were told, effective horror stories about children, who fell in. As I read this book a memory came to me of my father acquiring a dead cat. I don't know where he got it. He explained that he got the dead cat to 'unblock' the septic tank and that the rotting carcass would help rot the impacted shit. Now we learn that the nuns in Tuam had an overflowing septic tank (there are records of local residents making complaints) and where were the bodies found? Now two and two may not make four, but then again. They claim that the septic tank was no longer in use when the bodies were dumped there. But they do have a history of being thrifty with the truth. Such is the barbarism.

It is tempting to think of the past as a “foreign country: they do things differently there,” and there is a large degree of truth to that.  Ireland was a theocracy, where the rule of the church trumped the rule of law.   However, what is also true is our collective blindness to our present evils.  In Peter Singer's 'Famine, Affluence and Morality', Singer (convincingly) argues that ordinary people are evil.  We know people held, on a flimsy legal basis in 'direct provision centres' in Ireland, we know others are drowning in the Mediterranean.  It turns out that we don't need the Catholic Church to be evil, but it does add a flamboyant layer of hypocrisy.  

[Marketa · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is about the so called Irish "institutions" where both "fallen women" and their children were experiencing awful treatment (and I am aware of both my substantial simplification and euphemism). The stories unveiled by Hogan are extreme, yet as she demonstrates, not at all rare to be tracked in modern Ireland. Importantly, presented cases are just the tip of the iceberg, illustrating 1) the long-lasting unwillingness of the Irish state to engage with an unpleasant topic of extramarital conception and leaving it up to the Catholic church, without any kind of responsibility or control; 2) the very much dogmatic approach to everything sexuality-related. It was simply seen as wrong and sinful; but only when it came to women, the overall absence of men as fathers is absolutely flagrant and definitely the most fascinating aspect of the issue. I find the book extremely engaging and important, yet I think it could be structured better. I would like to rate it with 4.5 stars, which is not possible so I go for 5. I definitely plan re-reading it.

[Aoife Early · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think it would be quite easy to give this book 5 stars based entirely on the emotional response the Magdalen Laundries and the mother and baby homes elicit in so many of us. But ultimately I think this journalistic elements needed one more pass before this should have been published.

It somewhat strays from its thesis and focuses a little bit too much on the writers on feelings on the matter than I would have liked in a piece of journalism detailing the scale of this scandal.

One quote that stuck out to me however: “The domestic washing machine did more to abolish these institutions than the State ever did.”

[Connie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think speechless is probably the best way to describe it. I promised myself I would learn more about the mother and baby homes and the laundries after reading Small Things Like These last year and I’m so glad I stuck to that goal before the year was up.

I just don’t have many words at this point but literally what the fuck. The anger I feel is beyond words and I just cannot fathom that something like this was firstly allowed to happen and secondly endorsed by the church and allowed to continue for so long. I’m sorry but the Catholic Church is absolutely fucked and it’s through reading and educating MYSELF not through anything I’ve ever been taught that I realised this.

[Gemma Clark · Rating 5 out of 5]

The evil ‘fallen women’ institutions are a part of women’s history that we must never forget. This book focuses on Ireland (thought there were institutions in other party of the U.K. and world). The treatment of the young women, girls and babies was appalling. A harrowing read in places, discussing mass graves, infant death and rape. A stark reminder of how the church has treated women and with their current campaigning against harassment free healthcare we must never ever forget what this institution is capable of when given free rein on society.

[Ffion · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5. It's very interesting, but is somewhat lacking in the way the information is presented.

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m heartbroken that this really happened in the place I’m always so proud to call my home.