Julia Anne MacRae 1934-2023

Julia Anne MacRae

23 December 1934 – 22 November 2023

‘Julia has read widely and possesses an excellent vocabulary…

could be a good leader if she asserted herself in that direction’.

?

Thus reads a modest school report from the Presbyterian Girls College, Glen Osmand, South Australia, in 1949. Half a century on Julia MacRae, an immigrant to the UK, was widely regarded as one of the most influential and progressive publishers of her generation, elevating the status of children’s books, issuing titles now regarded as icons of our cultural heritage to the enjoyment of millions worldwide. ?She acquired international respect for her contribution to business, becoming one of the first women to enter the boardroom of some of this country’s distinguished institutions and paving a way for others to pursue.

Julia passed away peacefully in London on the morning of Wednesday 22nd November, just shy of her 89th birthday. In a lifetime of wide-ranging interests she was best-known for her career in British children’s book publishing, spanning thirty-five years from 1960 to 1995, during which time she acquired and inspired diverse authors and book illustrators, many of whom are now household-names. Her list of titles includes, amongst many, Raymond Briggs’ The Snowman, Anthony Browne’s Gorilla, and the British edition of Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

Starting life as a librarian in Australia, Julia arrived in London in 1960 keen to shape a fresh career.? Taken on by the influential Grace Hogarth at Constable, she acquired valuable skills and life-long friends, moving to Collins and then Hamish Hamilton in 1967. In those ensuing twelve years she made her mark, meeting the creative people with whom she would travel the road ahead. Such a one was her dear friend Raymond Briggs, who mischievously renamed the firm Hamish McHamilton, much to her amusement. Others included Quentin Blake, novelists such as Alan Garner and latterly Anthony Browne, for whom she published his first book Through The Magic Mirror. He approached her with just two full-page spreads and an idea, and with customary spontaneity she commissioned him on the basis of that alone. Although not now one of his best-known titles, as she related to The Bookseller in 1999, ‘you could [then] publish book one with a view to book three being really successful.’ Her vision extended far, and their life-long friendship highlights that wonderful symbiosis of editor and author, the richness of which is so often overlooked. Hard work paid dividend, and founder Jamie Hamilton invited her onto the board, making her one of the first women in publishing to attain that position.

Time spent nursing a broken leg after tobogganing on Hampstead Heath allowed for reflection on her success. When the novelist William Mayne asked if she had time to read his manuscript? She commented ‘it made me realise how far from the books my authors thought that I had got.’ A fresh start beckoned and thus was born Julia MacRae Books in 1979 - swiftly to be renamed ‘MuckRake Books’, by Raymond. The affection and security she offered authors retained their loyalty, with many moving to the new imprint, initially housed under the US firm Franklin Watts, then Walker Books and finally Random House. With her team of three these fifteen years were vibrant, happy and productive, with no less than five of her authors, including Jane Gardam, winning the Whitbread Award for children’s novels. It also allowed her to extend her repertoire to a general list, indulging her passion for the arts, with such titles as The Story of Britain, a two volume political and cultural history by Sir Roy Strong, and Full Circle, the biography of her friend Dame Janet Baker.

Travelling ceaselessly she forged strong links with the US, building friendships, in particular with Susan Hirschman of Greenwillow Book, bringing over exciting new names such as Alice and Martin Provensen, Anita and Arnold Lobel, Eric Carle and counted Maurice Sendak among her acquaintances. Suddenly however in 1995, in a move that surprised even her, Julia resigned feeling that she had run her course in an ever-changing world, ironically, one which her own efforts had helped usher in. ‘ Today, children’s publishing is market-driven. I can’t operate that way’. ?And so she bowed out.

Losing her mother early in life she found solace with neighbours in Adelaide, entranced by their recordings of German Lieder music. Vocal music was to remain the passion of her life. On arrival in London she began a sixty-year love-affair with The Wigmore Hall, attending as many as a hundred concerts annually, each performance witnessed proprietarily from favoured seat H5. She swiftly took on supervising the in-house magazine, The Score, oversaw the centenary edition of The Wigmore Hall 1901-2001 – A Celebration and increased the hall’s output of publications, a legacy still manifest today. In 1999 she became a trustee and was voted onto the board, maintaining this role until failing health ushered in resignation only six years ago, in 2017. Knowing well many of the performers and visitors, she acted with her customary ease and charm as an accomplished ambassador to this finest of institutions.

Always immaculately dressed, with not a hair out of place, Julia exuded elegance, eloquence and confidence, her glacial calm inspiring those around her, no doubt drawn from her little-known commitment to Tibetan Buddhism, reflected by her patronage for the Samye-Ling monastery in Scotland. Identifying talent in all, she was ever-supportive of the younger generation, amongst whom she loved to be. Generous to a fault with her time, she was an invaluable mentor to many of us pursuing careers in all aspects of the arts. ?Lunches, often at her beloved Wigmore Hall, were a heady mix of intellectual pronouncement and glittering anecdote, all delivered in a deliciously hushed conspiratorial tone.

An extraordinary life of aspiration and resolution, ambition and achievement, led by example for the benefit of others, it would not be too much to say that Julia was a remarkable person. Her friend Anthony Browne sums up eloquently the renaissance humanist that was Julia MacRae – ‘She had an extensive knowledge of art and its history, has brought fluency to my texts that I couldn’t have accomplished on my own. She also had a passion for music, perhaps this is why her words have such effortless rhythm . . .’ It seems then fitting that she should pass away on St Cecilia’s Day.

John Huddy