SCOTTISH WRITERS

Although her links with England are extremely close and mutually beneficial, Scotland’s culture has its own distinct flavour and excellencies, as much in literature as in any other sphere. Always less hierarchical and feudal than England, while materially poorer, the Scottish royal court historically patronised the arts generously and fine poets of the 15^th century like Henryson and Dunbar were able to flourish. The Union of the Crowns in 1603 removed this prop, with the court moving from Edinburgh to London and 17^th century Scotland produced no rival to Milton or Dryden.

Despite this, Scotland’s culture prospered mightily in the 18^th century during the remarkable Scottish Enlightenment. The novelist Tobias Smollett produced picaresque romps like Roderick Random, Humphry Clinker and Peregrine Pickle between 1748 and 1771 on similar lines to the works of Sterne and Richardson. More seriously the great philosophical and ethical works of David Hume starting with his Treatise on Human Understanding (1740) contributed to Edinburgh’s reputation as “The Athens of the North”, arguing that man is a bundle of emotions rather than a rational being, earning him a European reputation. To this acute intelligence we can add the name of Adam Smith, professor of moral philosophy at Glasgow, who published his The Wealth of Nations in 1776. His analysis of economic behavior and his arguments in favour of international trade resonate still. He revolutionised the science of economics and laid the intellectual foundations of modern capitalism.

David Hume

James Boswell

More riches were to follow. James Boswell (1740-96) epitomised many of the failings of Scots, a snob, a drunk and a debauchee, but he had warm virtues too, the gift of friendship and an acute eye for the society in which he lived. He visited the courts of Europe and befriended Voltaire, Rousseau and the glittering circle round his mentor Dr Samuel Johnson in London and the finest minds in Scotland. His daily Journals from 1763 reveal his merits and failings with vivid candour. Even his sharpest critic, Lord Macaulay, declared that Boswell’s Life of Johnson (1791) was the greatest biography in the English language and that eminence has never been challenged.

As his 25 January birthday is upon us, let us celebrate the fine poetry of Robert Burns (1759-96), whose Romantic and lyrical works endear him to Scots everywhere:

But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

…or in a more radical vein:

Then let us pray that come it may,

(As come it will for a' that,)

That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth,

Shall bear the gree, an' a' that. For a' that, an' a' that,

It's coming yet for a' that,

That Man to Man, the world o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that.

Robert Burns

Sir Walter Scott

                                                                           

Walter Scott (1771-1832) was a busy Scots lawyer of Tory sympathies who first became known as a poet. His Marmion and Lay of the Last Minstrel were much admired. The famous lines below give a flavour:

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand?

Scott’s enduring fame rests on his historical novels, a genre he effectively invented, publishing Waverley in 1813 followed by many others including Heart of Midlothian, The Antiquary and Ivanhoe. He attracted a European audience, but his works fell out of fashion, (guru-critic F L Leavis an enemy), in the 20^th century and only now are being re-appraised. The ambition and sweep of his plots are striking and the many monuments to him in Scottish towns are a testimony to the high esteem in which he is held.

It is perhaps useful if I set out what I think are the trademarks of much Scots writing:

-         - A fascination with ideas, either religious or philosophical

-          - A strong compulsion to praise (even overpraise) the merits of Scotland

-          - An excessive interest, often tortured, in sexual feelings

-          - A contrarian spirit, both to shock or entertain, fed by the author’s vanity

-          - Radical political views, opposing the existing order, whatever it might be.

Returning to the 19^th century, the industrial revolution had made Scotland prosperous though not enough prosperity trickled down to the labouring classes. Scotland had in David Hume a much-read historian though he wrote a History of England rather than Scotland. Similarly Anglophile was Lord Macaulay, with a Scottish father but who spent his life in England (and India). He was thus half-Scot, but I would settle for that fraction of a glorious stylist and an incisive critic even if his Whig interpretation of history raises hackles.

More definitively Scottish was Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881), the Sage of Ecclefechan, who admired German writers like Goethe and Fichte. He was a believer in heroic Great Men, for example Cromwell or Napoleon, and disparaged democracy. His The French Revolution and his biography of Frederick the Great gave ample scope for his eccentric, declamatory prose style. He was a kenspeckle figure round his home in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, and was a doughty controversialist all his life.

A maverick and bohemian figure was Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94) driven from his native damp and chilly Edinburgh by chronic bronchial problems. His Child’s Garden of Verses graced children’s bookshelves but his Kidnapped and Treasure Island were in fact adult adventures while Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde famously explored the splits in the human personality.

Thomas Carlyle

Robert Louis Stevenson

Two other Scots writers distinguished themselves with now classic stories for children J M Barrie and Kenneth Grahame. Barrie was a busy playwright but his Peter Pan (1904) earned him an enchanted immortality. Kenneth Grahame celebrated the other world of animals in the touching anthropomorphic tale The Wind in the Willows (1908) with the delightful adventures of Moley, Ratty, Badger and Toad.

A less sunny view of Scottish mores was taken by George Douglas Brown, a critic of the sentimental kailyard school of writing, whose The House with the Green Shutters (1901) described the jealousies and pettiness of small-town Scots life. More sophisticated were the short stories of H H Munro (aka Saki) exuding the languid values of pre-1914 London club-land.

The Great War and the later economic slump changed everything. Red Clydeside revelled in the expected collapse of capitalism, others like the brilliant achiever John Buchan, continued to write for an appreciative conservative readership, The Scottish Renaissance, ushered in by Hugh Macdiarmid’s 1926 epic poem A Drunk Man looks at the Thistle, attracted famous names like novelists A J Cronin, Eric Linklater, playwright James Bridie and poet Norman MacCaig. There was a strong element of Scottish nationalism in this movement, although some intellectuals like poet Edwin Muir opposed the use of Scots vocabulary and championed English and indeed England. A cherished writer from the Left was Lewis Grassic Gibbon whose moving Sunset Song described the struggles of a farming family in the North east.

Macdiarmid lost his acolytes as he changed his political opinions constantly moving from nationalism to rigid Stalinism before recanting. He was the archetypical moaning Scotsman justifying P G Wodehouse’s jibe “It has never been difficult to tell the difference between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine!” A more cheerful nationalist was Sir Compton Mackenzie, who had a colourful life as Great War intelligence agent, a playboy in Capri, a prolific novelist and writer of history and a co-founder of the SNP. Best known for novels Sinister Street (1913) and Whisky Galore (1947), I had the honour of receiving some school prizes from him in 1960!

Hugh Macdiarmid

Sir Compton Mackenzie

 

My knowledge of contemporary Scottish writers is tenuous – both Iain Banks of The Wasp Factory fame or Irvine Welsh of Trainspotting tackle subjects I frankly prefer not to know about.

Taken in the round, Scottish writers have punched far above their weight and added substantially to British and World culture.

SMD

24.01.20 

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2020

CITY SNAPSHOTS (3): EDINBURGH 1999

          

     [This is one of a series describing great Cities at a moment of apogee in their histories]

We Scots are immensely proud of our great capital city, Edinburgh, with her historic Old Town, elegant Georgian and Victorian New Town, her dominating Castle, superb setting on the Firth of Forth to the North and the gentle Pentland Hills to the South.

A View of Edinburgh

The City has witnessed many a significant national moment – the erratic reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, the dogmatic ministry of John Knox, the rejection of Charles I’s prayer book at St Giles, the brutally anarchic 1736 Porteous Riots, the brief seizure of the city by Bonnie Prince Charlie’s Jacobites, the glories of the Scottish Enlightenment, the 1843 Disruption splitting the Presbyterian Church of Scotland – sometimes moments of turmoil, but a peaceful and cherished moment occurred on 12 May 1999 when the Scottish Parliament, in abeyance since 1707, was re-inaugurated by H.M. The Queen, accompanied by the new First Minister Donald Dewar.

Dewar is sworn in as First Minister

Dewar and H M The Queen

Few Scots could fail to be moved by the formal words intoned by SNP’s Winnie Ewing, the most senior member: The Scottish Parliament, adjourned on the 25^th day of March in the year 1707, is hereby reconvened.

It must have been a particularly proud moment for Donald Dewar whom I knew slightly. A lanky, rather shambolic figure, who learned his razor-sharp debating skills at Glasgow University, he was witty – not suffering fools gladly – but rational, fair-minded and politically cautious. Living alone, his wife had left him for Labour Lord Chancellor Derry Irvine, he immersed himself in Scottish history and had piloted the Scotland Act, defining devolved powers through Westminster In 1998. The temporary first home of the new Scottish Parliament was the Kirk Assembly Hall on the Mound, where his hero Thomas Chalmers, leader of the Free Church Disruption, had taught theology.

Kirk Assembly Hall and temporary site of the Scottish parliament (1999-2004)

Edinburgh in 1999 was going through a fruitful period. Although Labour won back power in 1997 after 18 years of Tory government, it still pursued basically Thatcherite policies. Government interventions in business were infrequent. Over the years Edinburgh had built itself up as a financial centre, with ambitious local banks, well-regarded investment managers and solidly-established insurance companies like Scottish Widows and Standard Life. Royal Bank of Scotland was expanding quickly and a year later was to acquire the much larger NatWest Bank, a tasty feast for driven Fred Goodwin, rising star of the Bank. The other major local bank, Bank of Scotland, was to merge in 2001 with the Halifax Bank and embark on a headlong expansion.

RBS St Andrew Square

Bank of Scotland Head Office

Edinburgh was much more than a financial centre. Her professionals, notably Scots lawyers and doctors were of a very high quality, four universities graced the city led by the venerable Edinburgh University, famed for its medical faculty and later its School of Informatics, studying engineered computational systems with a speciality in artificial intelligence. This had encouraged a lively IT industry. Secondary education was rated highly with 20% of Edinburgh pupils attending private schools, like my own Alma Mater Merchiston Castle but including Loretto and Edinburgh Academy.

The city’s atmosphere was mainly comfortably bourgeois but there was a druggy and violent underside as depicted with some brio in Danny Boyle’s 1996 film Trainspotting starring Ewan McGregor, from Irvine Welsh’s novel. With a population of 495,000, Edinburgh’s largest employer was the local authority – food manufacturing, brewing and hospitality provided more jobs for working people. Scottish culture is now largely subsumed by that of Britain but the Edinburgh Festival, created in 1947, now the largest in the world, brings music, theatre, cinema and art of the highest standards to the occasionally stolid burghers of the wind-swept city.

In 1999 Labour controlled the new Edinburgh Parliament. It was well-represented in Westminster where incisive John Smith from Glasgow, and a close friend of Donald Dewar, had been Labour leader 1992-4 until his premature death aged 55. Labour’s new Prime Minister, persuasive Tony Blair, was English but had been educated at Edinburgh’s Fettes College. His principal lieutenant, powerful Gordon Brown, was at the Exchequer, while gnomic but brilliant Robin Cook was Foreign Secretary. Alistair Darling, a safe pair of hands, jumped from portfolio to portfolio – all 3 Edinburgh men.

Gordon Brown

Robin Cook

Alistair Darling

But Fortune is a fickle goddess and her wheel turned against Scotland. Donald Dewar had a fatal heart attack in 2000 on the steps of Robert Adam’s elegant Bute House in Charlotte Square. The construction of the new Parliament building at Holyrood was mismanaged; the original estimate of £109m ballooned to £414m: similarly the later Edinburgh Tramway system, managed by the council, cost £776m against an estimate of £545m and was years late. All this damaged Labour whose support was being eroded rapidly by the nationalist SNP. The 2007 economic crisis undermined Edinburgh’s financial sector; Bank of Scotland had lent very unwisely and HBOS had to be rescued by Lloyds Bank: RBS was worse, overreaching itself with fanciful global acquisitions. Too big to fail, the UK government stepped in and even now still owns 73% of RBS’s equity.

The SNP tide proved to be strong. Under epicene Alex Salmond it formed a minority Scottish administration in 2006 and a majority one in 2011. A reasonable competence was established. The Westminster government permitted a referendum on independence in 2014 and the 55-45% vote in favour of the union was a relief, but too close for comfort. More recently the collapse in the global price of oil has ruined the economics of the North Sea Oil industry, a lynch-pin in the SNP’s budgetary case. In 2015’s general election Labour’s vote collapsed and the SNP won another 50 seats to add to its existing 6. The SNP was led by Nicola Sturgeon, a feisty Glaswegian, but narrow and coarse-grained to my taste. There were signs of a Conservative revival in the Scottish elections of 2016 under the vigorous leadership of Edinburgh’s Ruth Davidson, but she is a kick-boxing Lesbian – not at all the tweedy, land-owning Unionist with which I am more familiar!

Edinburgh changes constantly like any city. Her beauty thankfully does not much change and I echo contemporary writer Alexander McCall Smith’s words;

This is a city of shifting light, of changing skies, of sudden vistas. A city so beautiful it breaks the heart again and again.

For those who have never been, come and visit. For those who know her well, refresh your spirit by savouring again the city’s conviviality, fascinating history and friendly atmosphere.

Convivial Edinburgh

Historic Edinburgh

                                                                 

SMD

10.06.16

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2016

THE SCOTTISH TABLE

I had thought of entitling this piece La Cuisine Ecossaise but that sounded much too pretentious for the simple, homely but deliciously varied offerings of the Scottish kitchen, beloved nourisher of many a strapping Scots youth and of yet more rotund Scots greybeards. I now peep into this well-stocked larder and make my selection.

The eminent Liberal Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, Prime Minister of Britain (1905-08) and of course a Scot, was asked to describe his ideal meal: “Mutton broth, fresh herring or salmon, haggis, roast mutton, grouse, apple tart, strawberries – maistly Scotch”. Unsurprisingly, Campbell-Bannerman tipped the scales at an heroic 19 stone. What his selection showed was the wide natural resources available to the Scots – Aberdeen Angus beef, mutton and lamb, game birds, fish and seafood galore, fruit and berries – with only haggis striking an unfamiliar note. Haggis, the minced and spiced “pluck” of sheep, with onion, suet and oatmeal crammed into a bladder and boiled makes a classic Scots “winter-warmer” dish and a traditional part of a Burns Supper feast every 25 January, always with mashed neeps (turnips) and tatties (potatoes). It is admittedly peasant fare and may not have impressed Escoffier, but I find it delectable.

Haggis, neeps and tatties

After the usual plateful of fragrant kippers, let’s start with the staples of bread with its various offshoots. My home city of Aberdeen welcomes the morn with her distinctive Buttery Rowie (a “morning roll” according to cut-glass shop-girls), a succulent flat piece of heaven, a little greasy with her lard and butter, served piping hot with clover honey; I salivate just to write about it!

Aberdeen butteries

A well-filled bap

I associate Edinburgh, my smiling old grandmother and another smiler, the late Queen Mother, with Baps, the white floury variety, an incomparable breakfast feature, warm with heather honey, but a versatile carrier of snack sandwiches of all kinds.

Getting more sophisticated, and more nightmarish for the dietician, we embrace Selkirk Bannocks (bread suffused with raisins), griddle cakes – otherwise Scotch pancakes (much smaller and thicker than crepes and spread with jam), and Black Bun (a pastry covered fruit cake) capable of sinking The Titanic, let alone the consumer. The king of all Scots cakes is Dundee Cake, invented by Keillers, famed marmalade makers in that fine city, a rich confection of fruit, sultanas and almonds.

Black Bun

             

Dundee Cake

  

Less gastronomically challenging is the famous variety of Scottish biscuits like the currant-speckled  Abernethy, doucely partaken with afternoon tea, traditional and crunchy oatcakes, a favourite of my lovely wife, and the amazing products of McVitie & Price, not least the globally iconic Dark Chocolate Digestive, consumed by the packetful. Beyond praise is Scots Shortbread, often home made, but Walkers and Patersons are reliably toothsome brands. I recall a plateful of ambrosial shortbread served warm one afternoon at Kildrummy House Hotel on Donside – Ah, memory hold the door!             

     

Succulent Shortbread           

But what about the main event, the Scottish feast itself? The soup course is no problem, we are spoiled for choice, strong runners including Scotch Broth and Cock-a-leekie but my favourite is Cullen Skink, a creamy fish soup, richly graced by finnan haddock, potatoes and onions. Baxter’s tinned version is a delight.

Hearty Cullen Skink

The fish course can take advantage of the abundant catches in the cold seas surrounding Britain and the seafood cornucopia of Scotland’s long coast. We could have oysters or crayfish from the West, or halibut or sole from the roaming Scottish fishing fleet. I will however settle for poached salmon with a light salad, ideally rod-caught on any of a dozen great rivers, food for kings.

Poached Salmon

          

Our main dish brooks no argument; it has to be Scottish Beef, roasted yet slightly underdone, a juicy delight, with home-grown sprouts and potatoes. Just to prove we are no chauvinists, we will invite glorious fluffy Yorkshire Pudding to accompany us and wash it all down with a glass or three of Claret.

Scottish Roast Beef

As a dessert, I had thought of selecting the famed Deep-fried Mars Bar, chance invention of a chip shop in Stonehaven, south of Aberdeen but I suppose that would be just too gross. Instead I recommend Cranachan, a venerable confection made of whipped cream, honey, fresh Angus raspberries, toasted oatmeal and a wee dash of whisky.

Cranachan

                                   

Time for bed, and as a nightcap a warming glass of Speyside malt whisky, supplemented perhaps with a sinful portion of traditional sugary Tablet, which a great-aunt used to produce every Hogmanay. Calories blissfully uncounted, I can then slip into the profoundly grateful Caledonian sleep of the just!

SMD

5.07.15

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2015

LAND OF MY HEART FOREVER

As the great P.G.Wodehouse observed “It has never been hard to tell the difference between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine.” The British of England, Wales and Ulster have been exasperated, and Scots like me embarrassed, by the tendentious wails and complaints of the resurgent SNP, always asking for more, like a plague of tartan-clad Oliver Twists. I apologise unreservedly and say to my fellow-Scots “Lighten up, Jimmy!” and above all “Dougal, count your blessings!”

 For Nature and God Almighty, (if that elusive gentleman is ever at home) have made Scots the most fortunate of people.  I need not dilate on the lovely rivers, the heathery moors, the extensive wooded glens and the majestic mountains; nor need I remind you of the considerable glories of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen or Dundee; nor of the joys of Angus Beef, Tay salmon, McSween’s haggis and Scotch whisky – a Glen Grant malt, a Famous Grouse blend and, for high days and holidays, a Chivas Regal or two will do very nicely, thank you. To round off this fine tally, the country is rather lightly populated by European standards and you are in no danger of tripping over and bumping into those awful Other People you prefer to avoid. We Scots are truly blest.

For otherwise we could be starving in Asia, fearful in the Middle East, exploited in Africa or mugged in Latin America. The sour, pinched faces of the SNP members of Parliament are laughably inappropriate. Scotland is a fun place, a safe place of friendship and hospitality, a great place to work and play. Scots like to laugh and should face the world “sunny side up” dispensing cheer to those less fortunate. Famous Scots in history, David Hume, Adam Smith, James Boswell, Rabbie Burns, Walter Scott and R. L. Stevenson were convivial fellows and later James Barrie and AA Milne gave untold pleasure to children the world over. We must not turn our back on this proud heritage and let us join in the popular songs of Harry Lauder or Andy Stewart and the raucous comedy of a host of others like Billy Connolly. Whatever Nicola Sturgeon may say, we were born to be happy.

SNP pin-up girl Mhairi Black

I doubt if the SNP play anything, even the cacophonous bag-pipes, other than to sound a lament, a dirge or a dismal pibroch. Do they toss cabers, do they indulge in curling, do they breathe in the ozone by playing golf on the many wonderful links courses of their country? Of course they abhor these convivial past-times, much preferring to pose for their “selfies” and to abuse the privileges of the Westminster House of Commons. There they are out of place, especially the likes of Mhairi Black, 20 year-old victor over Douglas Alexander. As Dr Johnson remarked, á propos an expulsion from Oxford, “A cow is very good in a field: but we turn her out of a garden”; I hope for a gradual attrition of the SNP phalanx and that at the 2020 election they are diminished to their usual deservedly irrelevant status and they can return to their kailyard.

Meanwhile I suppose we will suffer the inescapable toe-curling embarrassments from the SNP members but essentially they are baying impotently and already too much has been conceded to them. It is well said that we know when a plane-load of SNP Parliamentarians arrives at Heathrow: the whining continues even when the engines are switched off! Let us always remember that the “real” Scotland is quite different – outward looking, cosmopolitan, appreciative of English virtues and proud upholders of the United Kingdom.

SMD

27.05.15

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2015