He once declared he had no archive, but now the work of the novelist JG Ballard has been donated to the British library in lieu of inheritance tax. Stephanie West reports.
In the past one hundred years, a diverse array of cultural treasure has been left to the nation, settling tax duties on the estates of departed loved ones. Today the manuscripts of the late JG Ballard join that horde.
The novelist, who died at the age of 78 in April last year, decided to donate manuscripts from some of his most famous books to the British Library, to be studied and researched by future generations.
From Empire of the Sun, captured on film by director Steven Spielberg, to Crash, a controversial tale of those who are aroused by real car-crashes, the writings, notes and notebooks will take up twelve metres of shelf space at the national library.
Ballard had once declared that there was no archive of his work: “I never keep letters, reviews, research materials,’ he said, ‘every page is a fresh start.” But he was just teasing.
Today it was revealed that he had instructed his daughters, who he appointed as executors of his will, to hand over the boxes of his works, which span half a century of writing, from The Drowned World of 1962 to Miracles of Life which he completed just before his death in 2008.
Most weighty, the manuscript of Empire of the Sun from 1984. There are 840 pages. Alternative paragraphs and sections that never made it to the final novel, the semi-autobiographical story about a young British boy separated from his parents in Shanghai after the attack on Pearl Harbour, are there.
Ballard once declared: “I never keep letters, reviews, research materials.” But he was just teasing.
It means these works are now part of a treasure trove of cultural works left to the nation during one hundred years of the Acceptance in Lieu scheme, which has been embraced by politicians and governments of all sides. Administered by the Museums, Libraries and Archives Council, the donated treasure is on display all over the British Isles.
The donations are diverse. Some are globally desired works of art, others are idiosyncratically British. Among the paintings, documents, sculptures and historic tracts of land, papers from the historic Hambeldon cricket club where rules of the game were first laid down.
There is a drum that was taken on sea voyages by Sir Francis Drake. In 1966, it was donated by the then owners, in lieu of death duty to the scheme, administered by the Museums, Libraries and Archives Council.
Now it is on display in Buckland Abbey in Devon, complete with the legend that the ghostly beat of the drum can still sometimes be heard over Plymouth, whenever England’s safety is in danger. Some supporters will surely be hoping it won’t be sounding during the forthcoming World Cup game against the USA on Saturday.
During the last century, Picasso’s Weeping Woman found its way into the nation’s coffers thanks to the scheme, as did Michaelangelo’s Drawing the Dream.
Some donations have had unusual journeys. Elephant Armour once worn by an elephant, that belonged to Clive of India, found its way to Wales, where it was donated by a family from Powys in 1962. It is now on display in the Royal Armouries of Leeds.
JG Ballard’s estate donated his manuscripts to settle an inheritance tax bill of £350,000.