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Klaus by Allan Massie

Vagabond Voices, 2014, 146 p, plus 3 p Afterword.

The book is an exploration of the last days of Klaus Mann, son of Thomas Mann. Klaus’s life was always lived somewhat in the shadow of his father, who is often referred to here as The Magician.

Klaus’s homosexuality is made obvious to us from the start as on page one he is in bed with a young man but has just woken from a dream about his childhood home, now at best a ruin, but in any case one that can never be returned to. That dream brings thoughts of his elder sister Erika with whom Klaus had a close relationship. As young adults the pair had been intimate with their fellow actors Pamela Wedekind and Gustaf Gründgens. Erika and Pamela had been lovers, as too for a short time were Klaus and Gustaf. Nevertheless, Klaus got engaged to Pamela and Erika married Gustaf. Neither relationship lasted.

As a homosexual and an anti-fascist in a country and time (Nazi Germany) where to be either was dangerous, Klaus’s days in his homeland were numbered; as were Erika’s. Klaus eventually arrived in the US. He joined the US army in 1943 and became a contributor to Stars and Stripes, producing one of the first reports of the extermination camps.

Klaus’s 1936 novel Mephisto was a slightly disguised account of Gustaf’s career as an actor which not only did not cease under Nazism, it thrived. After Gustaf’s death his adopted son sued the publisher to have Mephisto removed from sale.

Considerations such as this, along with Klaus’s drug use, money troubles and his homosexuality, put him under strain. The relatively short book is filled with reminiscences about his youth and reflections on his present, the burden of which along with his estrangement from his homeland are too much to bear.

 

Pedant’s corner:- “Dr Goebbels’ instruction” (Goebbels’s,) “palet bed” (pallet bed.)

Reading Scotland 2023

Thirty four Scottish books read this year; equally divided between female and male authors. Fiction, Poetry, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Non-fiction, Football. I have linked to my reviews if they have appeared here.

No Dominion  by Louise Welsh

Hieroglyphics by Anne Donovan

For the Good Times by David Keenan

Wild Geese by Nan Shepherd

Paper Cup by Karen Campbell

The Christmas Truce by Carol Ann Duffy

A Would-Be Saint by Robin Jenkins

Something Like Happy by John Burnside

The Mandelbaum Gate by Muriel Spark

The Dark Remains by William McIlvanney and Ian Rankin

Scotland’s Lost Clubs by Jeff Webb

The Oath Takers by Naomi Mitchison

Vinland by George Mckay Brown

Beethoven’s Assassins by Andrew Crumey

Chimera by Alice Thompson

Hester by Mrs Oliphant

Antimacassar City by Guy McCrone

The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell

The Philistines by Guy McCrone

Fishnet by Kirstin Innes

A Gift From Nessus by William McIlvanney

Sea-Green Ribbons by Naomi Mitchison

Companion Piece by Ali Smith

Night Boat by Alan Spence

Europa Deep by Gary Gibson

Murder in the Merchant City by Angus McAllister

O Caledonia by Elspeth Barker

The Puritans by Guy McCrone

King Hereafter by Dorothy Dunnett

Escape From Hell by Hal Duncan

The Pearl-fishers by Robin Jenkins

The Bachelors by Muriel Spark

Klaus by Allan Massie

Early in Orcadia by Naomi Mitchison

 

Best of 2023

These are in order of reading; 18 in total, 9 by women, 10 by men, 8 by Scots (italicised,) 4 translations, 1 SF/Fantasy. The links are to the reviews on here:-

Paradise Reclaimed by Halldór Laxness 

The Women of Troy by Pat Barker 

For the Good Times by David Keenan

The Infinities by John Banville

Wild Geese by Nan Shepherd  

Paper Cup by Karen Campbell

A Would-Be Saint by Robin Jenkins 

Master of the Crossroads by Madison Smartt Bell 

Beethoven’s Assassins by Andrew Crumey  (my review was published in ParSec 8 and will appear here in due course.)     

The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell 

The Liar’s Dictionary by Eley Williams

Fishnet by Kirstin Innes 

The Gaze by Elif Shafak

Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age by Bohumil Hrabal

Utopia Avenue by David Mitchell 

O Caledonia by Elspeth Barker 

Cybele, with Bluebonnets by Charles L Harness

Of Love and Other Demons by Gabriel García Márquez

My present read (Luka and the Fire of Life by Salman Rushdie) may be an addition to this list (but then again it may not.)

The Pearl-fishers by Robin Jenkins

Polygon, 2007, 181 p, plus vii p Introduction by Rosemary Goring.

The manuscript (actually several iterations of it) of The Pearl-fishers, with its initial title The Tinker Girl, was discovered in Jenkins’s papers after his death, with no indication he had intended for it to be published. Three other versions are stored in the National Library of Scotland, an early handwritten draft with many amendments, and two typescripts, one of which is identical with this published one.

It begins with a group of forestry workers on a break noticing two dilapidated carts drawn by equally decrepit horses as they approach. The carts carry a grey-haired woman, an old man, two children and a striking young woman. The collective thoughts of the workers are that such beauty is wasted on they call tinkers. All the workers that is, except Gavin Hamilton, the same Gavin Hamilton it would seem as appeared in Jenkins’s earlier novel A Would-be Saint, who has a natural disposition towards kindness.

The “tinkers” (Jenkins utilises the word’s negative connotations superbly to point out the prejudice inherent in the locals’ attitudes and suspicions) are travellers, yes, but make their living searching out pearls from fresh water oysters. The group has made the two hundred-mile journey from Sutherland so that the dying old man, the three young travellers’ grandfather, can be buried by the Great Stone where members of his family were interred when he was four.

All they ask of the locals is a field to pitch their tent, and Gavin grants their request. However, he always intended to invite them into his house instead. The young woman is Effie Williamson, the older woman is her mother, the children her brother Eddie and sister Morag.

The children turn out to be far from the feral wild things of the foresters’ imagination. Polite and well-mannered, they take to Gavin, as he does to them. Effie’s feelings are more complex. Her pride makes her want not to take advantage of Gavin’s generosity of spirit but her natural grace wrongfoots the locals – especially the Minister’s sister (also daughter of a minister and niece of a Moderator,) whom it is thought locally has her eyes on Gavin and would make him a good wife, though any relationship between them would doubtless lack passion.

The burgeoning attraction between Gavin and Effie does perhaps progress rather too quickly (the book is only 181 pages long) but it is destined never to exceed the bounds of propriety, despite any opportunities living in the same house presents. Any impediment to its advancement is provided only by Effie’s feelings of reluctance and restraint and Gavin’s deferment to them.

The backgrounds of both Gavin and the “tinkers” are well developed as are the dynamics of the small town setting but there is a rather rushed feeling to the book most likely as a consequence of it being unfinished (or I should say unpolished.) Had Jenkins had more time these could have been remedied. The Pearl-fishers is a worthy addition to his œvre, though.

Pedant’s corner:- In the introduction; Jenkins’ (several times, Jenkins’s,) miniscule (minuscule.)  Otherwise; “The next room they same upon” (came upon.) “She said by the window, waiting for him to come home.” (She sat by the window.) “That young ploughmen” (ploughman.)

 

Escape From Hell! by Hal Duncan

Monkey Brain Books, 2008, 147 p.

In the Prologue we are treated to the more (or less) graphic deaths of our four agonists, Seven, Belle, Eli, Matthew. As they must, given the book’s title, all four arrive in Hell which, as depicted here, seems like a version of a modern US inner city complete with its own low-lifes, its own cops (corrupt, obviously,) its own TV station with its star Trent Knightly – reporter for the allusively named Vox News.

Immersed in various nightmare scenarios particular to each, in their own ways they attempt to escape and eventually come together. There are tales of a way out: but this is Hell, maybe these are only rumours. In Hell of course the only way out is down. At its centre they come upon Lucifer, trapped there for four thousand years, and discover the real power behind this infernal place, the one who consigned them all there in the first place. (Traditional religious believers will not look kindly on this revelation.)

Duncan’s story is related in a necessarily urgent present tense and the text contains copious amounts of swearing. Plus one instance of the n-word. With scenes not for the squeamish. It is set in Hell after all.

Pedant’s corner:- 250 mils (the plural of the abbreviation ‘ml’ is ‘ml’,) “there’s no buttons, no switches” (there are no buttons, no switches,) “wet canvass” (canvas,) discernable (discernible.) “Belle whisper a response he misses” (Bell whispers a response,) “a dark maw of a doorway” (a maw is a stomach, not an entrance,) later “a dark maw at its base” (ditto,) “Matthew and Eli skidding round a corner, Belle and Eli close behind” (one of those Elis should be a Seven.) “There’s no tears in Belle’s eyes” (There are no tears.)

King Hereafter by Dorothy Dunnett

Michael Joseph, 1982, 725 p, plus ii p frontispiece showing the lineage of Kings of Scotland (Alba) and Northumbria, ii p backispiece (I apologise for the coinage) of rulers of Orkney, Norway, Normandy and England, iii p maps of mid Europe in the 11th century, Alba (Scotland) and Northern England in AD 1050, and of the Orkney islands and Caithness of AD 1050, and ii p lineage of Danish and Norwegian rulers.

The sparseness of the historical record for Scotland in the Dark Ages leaves something of a blank canvas for the novelist to exploit. In Dunnett’s account of the life of Macbeth MacFinlay (whom Shakespeare portrayed as a villain) she has chosen to fill that canvas by conflating him with a certain Earl Thorfinn of Orkney. (See here.)

In Dunnett’s version, Thorfinn (in the book he is rarely referred to by his Christian baptismal name of Macbeth,) although the grandson of King Malcolm II is more proud of his Orcadian heritage than his Scottish one and keener for that to be passed on to his own sons, to whom he gives Norse names.

He is not the only character to have more than one name. His wife was born in Norway as Ingibjorg Arnason, has the baptismal name Margaret but is known to him as Groa (and in Gaelic as Gruoch.) Aged fourteen she was forced into marriage to a middle-aged Mormaer of Moray, Gillacomghain, who had killed Finnlaech, our hero Thorfinn’s stepfather. When Thorfinn in his turn killed Gillacomghain to regain his lands of Moray he married the widow.

Such was life for high-born women in the Dark Ages; destined only to cement alliances and to breed. (Spoiler alert [Really? Are the outlines of the story not well-known?]: she was to suffer a similar fate when Thorfinn is killed by the man who became Malcolm III who also made her his wife.)

This was the time when the Norse kingdoms had only recently become (at least nominally) Christian and a fair bit of the narrative deals with the merits of the Celtic as opposed to the Roman Church in particular as Thorfinn is trying to unify the Kingdom of Alba’s only loosely held regions of Fife, Angus, Buchan, Caithness etc. Though Thorfin has some sway in Galloway (and Cumbria plus alliances with Ireland) the Lothians were territory disputed with Northumbria. England’s regions (Mercia, Wessex, East Anglia) likewise owed allegiance to one king but their rulers had ambitions of their own.

The novel’s main attention, though, is given to Thorfinn’s Scottish lands and those in Orkney but ranges widely over the Northern Europe of the time and has mentions of King Stephen of Hungary. Thorfinn even makes a pilgrimage to Rome to seek the Pope’s imprimatur. In his youth he had spent some time in the English court of King Canute whose wife Emma (another who had been taken as a wife by her first’s successor,) after her second husband’s death still has her matrilineal fingers spread across England and Normandy.

At times, then, the book reads more like a historical account than a novel. Shifting alliances and manoeuvrings make up most of the intrigue with the interests of the Godwinsson family and William the Bastard of Normandy (which would eventually collide at the Battle of Hastings) begin to loom large towards the book’s end.

King Hereafter can be seen as one of many attempts to rescue the historical Macbeth from the obloquy to which Shakespeare consigned him.

His periglour Sulien here says to him, “‘Men will look back and see a king who strove to build for his people. …. The name each man leaves is a small thing compared with the mark he puts on the world.’”

The book is long, with fairly small print, and paints Thorfinn and Groa’s relationship sympathetically and humanly but also serves as a primer on late 11th century history.

Pedant’s corner:- dwarved (dwarfed,) manoeuvering (manoeuvring,) unfocussed (unfocused,) aureoles (areolas- or areolae,) chorussed (chorused?) pleat (it was hair, so ‘plait’,) basalm (balsam,)

The Puritans by Guy McCrone

Black & White, 221 p. In Wax Fruit, 1993. First published in 1947.

This is the continuing chronicle of the Moorhouse family (from Antimacassar City and The Philistines) who have risen from a farmhouse in Ayrshire to prosperity in Victorian Glasgow, though much of the tale in this one is set in Vienna. The focus is on the relationship between Phoebe, the youngest Moorhouse, and Henry Hayburn who had become engaged towards the end of The Philistines even though he and his family had lost their money in the crash of the City Bank of Glasgow.

Suitable work for Henry being scarce he takes the opportunity presented by Maximilian Hirsch to oversee the setting up of a factory in Vienna to produce new agricultural machinery. First he travels there alone and lodges with the Klem family in a less salubrious part of the city but comes back to marry Phoebe and take her there. They take to the life in Vienna so much that they can laugh at their lack of guilt at availing themselves of the pleasure-grounds in the Prater in Vienna on a Sunday. Henry has few outlets beyond his work but Phoebe makes friends with Hirsch’s maiden aunts.

However, Aunt Bell back in Glasgow is displeased when Phoebe decides she will have the baby she is now expecting in Vienna and intrigues to have her come to Glasgow for the birth – with tragic consequences.

The writing in these tales never rises above the workmanlike. Too much is told not shown. Before Henry ever reaches Vienna the introduction to the narrative of Sepi Klem only ever portends one outcome. She performs much the same function in complicating our main characters’ lives as Lucy Rennie did in The Philistines. I note that – again like Lucy – she is a singer (though in Sepi’s case an aspiring one to begin with) a potential career of which her parents disapprove, wishing her to marry safe bank clerk Willi Pommer. Her flightiness is highlighted by her leaving home without explanation not long after Phoebe arrives in Vienna.

Her return months later allows McCrone to further contrast life in Austria and Scotland by expressing Herny’s internal discomfort of the Klem family’s display of emotion in his origins; coming “from an Island where the show of feeling is counted as weakness.”

The Wax Fruit trilogy is not great literature by any means but it is quick and easy to read.

Pedant’s corner:- “doing it’s best” (its best,) “slid them over over the stanchions of the pier” (has one ‘over’ too many,) “whether Sir Charles was pleased or sorry about his, Henry could not discover” (about this,) hoofs (in my youth the plural of hoof was always hooves,) “He took of his hat” (off,) Island (this was not a proper noun; ‘island’,) “for her seriously to flaunt Bel” (to flout Bel,) “the Hirschs’ landau” (the Hirsches’ landau,) bouganvilia (bouganvillea.) “‘But what’s wrong?’ She asked.” (But what’s wrong?’ she asked.”)

O Caledonia by Elspeth Barker

Weidenfeld & Nicolson Essentials, 2021, 212p, plus vi p Introduction by Maggie O’Farrell. First published 1991.

From the outset we know where this tale of growing up as a misfit is going; Barker shows us in her prelude, titled Janet. This is not foreshadowing as such – it goes beyond prolepsis even – but it does set up an intriguing question. Why will what Barker tells us happened, happen? Why was Janet’s misadventure so easily glossed over? What was it about her that made her dismissable? But this is arguably fairer on the reader than Kate Atkinson’s revelation in A God in Ruins which turned upside down what we thought we had learned in all its pages up to that point.

Some reviewers have observed similarities to Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle (written much earlier than O Caledonia) but the characters of Cassandra Mortain and Janet are very different and Barker is a much subtler writer but I did wonder while I was reading O Caledonia if Kate Atkinson was familiar with Barker’s novel. I found the weird incidents of Janet’s childhood oddly similar to the manifold earlier days of Ursula Todd in Life After Life; there were perhaps even greater similarities to Atkinson’s first novel Behind the Scenes at the Museum (from 1995.) Still, it allows Barker the acid observation “The subject was closed in favour of the living, who offer continuous material for persecution.”

Janet is a child in wartime living in the manse inhabited by her grandfather and subject to many an admonitory sermon. Scotland’s religious heritage, though never pushed, is an intermittent drum beat through the book as in, “At this time there were many Polish officers in the village. The Marine hotel had been requisitioned for them. They were popular with the lonely girls and the more flighty wives, so that after the war some stayed on and married, while others left behind girls who were even lonelier now, alone with tiny children in the unrelenting chill of a Calvinist world.” (This sort of memory of Polish soldiers was familiar to me from the tales told by an acquaintance who had lived in Kelso during the Second World War.) Barker also has Janet remark, “There seemed no place for gallantry and romance among Calvinists,” and, in a particularly self-flagellating moment “the nature of Caledonia was a pitiless nature and her own was no better.” That it had unintended effects is illlustrated by a passage wherein nannies asked children if they had done what they should today (ie moved their bowels) and unwittingly unleashed dissembling- “a horde of artful dodgers on the world.”

It is when the family inherits Auchnashaugh, a crumbling pile in the Highlands, that Janet’s alienation blossoms. She resents her younger siblings, fails to comprehend adult concerns or live up to their expectations and when older retreats into books, having an appetite for things beyond her age, Latin and Greek tags and the like. Her experience is summed up by Proust’s phrase ‘l’étouffoir familial’ the family suffocation chamber. Of how many sensitive souls has that been true.

She similarly fails to fit in at St Uncumba’s, the boarding school she is sent to far south in England where her distaste for, and inability at, games and liking for literature are mocked. Until she learns to dissemble.

The signal feature of her otherness is her adoption of a not yet fledged jackdaw whom she names Claws and who is her constant companion at Auchnashaugh.

O Caledonia is far too little known for a book so accomplished. How it did not get onto the list of 100 best Scottish books is beyond me. Perhaps its reissue far too late (2021) could explain it.

Pedant’s corner:- The young Janet sees the beam of a lighthouse sweep her bedroom (but this was in wartime; the lighthouses were switched off as part of the blackout precautions,) “she sucked a vengeful Pandrop” (a pan drop,) “the baby prone within” (the baby supine is more likely,) “golden rod” (goldenrod,) “je men fous” (je m’en fous,) “Miss Wales’ grizzled hair” (Wales’s,) “the gaping maw of the furnace” (stomachs do not gape,) standing in a great Victorian cemetery in Glasgow for her grandfather’s funeral (at that time in Scotland women did not go to interments, still less children,) clipe (usually spelled clype,) “Sir Patrick Spens’ lords (Spens’s,) Sawney Bean is said to have carried out his cannibalistic activities on the Aberdeenshire coast (most accounts put this legendary tale in Ayrshire,) “True Thomas’ faery queen” (Thomas’s,) “Euripides’ Medea” (Euripides’s,) “Barr’s Iron Brew” (the proprietary name is Irn Bru,) “came Francis’ voice” (Francis’s,) “the war memorial” (War Memorial – used later,) “‘a wee Doc and Doris afore ye gang awa’!’” (usually spelled Deoch-an-Doris,) Kiichen (a manuscript misreading of Küchen?) “Watt and Grants” (Watt and Grant’s,) swop (swap,) “Francis’ voice” (Francis’s,) “she was couched out there” (crouched makes more sense,) “Propertius’ poem” (Propertius’s,) “Tiresias’ description” (Tiresias’s) “Claws’ residence” (Claws’s,) “jeune jille” (jeune fille,) “passage from the Georgies” (the Georgics that would be,) “Orpheus’ final loss” (Orpheus’s.)

ParSec 8

I believe ParSec’s issue 8 has now gone live:-

I’ve not yet delved into this issue but it ought to contain my reviews of Beethoven’s Assassins by Andrew Crumey, Chimera by Alice Thompson, and Umbilical by Teika Marija Smits.

 

Murder in the Merchant City by Angus McAllister

Polygon, 2019, 281 p.

The book’s title perhaps says it all – there are murders, some scenes are set in Glasgow’s Merchant City – but is a trifle misleading. The action centres not on the Merchant City itself but on the so-called Merchant City Health Centre, a massage parlour – and an establishment with all the connotations that description of a business inevitably invokes. This is staffed by women in white coats – at least until they take them off to get down to offering extras. The most important of these to the plot are the beautiful Miranda, with the beaming smile and that way of saying, “How are you?” to her regulars, no nonsense up-front Claudia, the conventionally attractive Candy, the more homely in style Annette, and new girl Justine.

The narrative is mainly double stranded, Annette, from whose viewpoint we see the goings-on in the brothel (let’s not mince words,) and barman Jack who is resorting to paying for his sexual pleasures after his wife left him some time ago. There are also chapters from the murderer’s viewpoint, outlining his modus operandi. A psychologist later on suggests that because the victims are all men the murderer is in fact a woman but the treatment of his contribution leaves little doubt that view is a red herring.

The first victim was one of the Health Centre’s clients but that could have been coincidence. When the second also turns out to be a patron Annette in particular feels they ought to contact the police but Edna at front of house does not want to attract their attention. But it comes anyway. There are subplots involving the proprietor of a free newspaper who wants to rid Glasgow of “havens of vice” and a client of the Health Centre who beats up one of the sex-workers. (The revenge Claudia takes on him is well deserved and condign.)

Murder in the Merchant City does not have as many amusing moments as McAllister’s previous Glasgow murder novel Close Quarters, possibly because its contents do not range about Glasgow’s West End quite so much. Its characters are well enough rounded, though some occupy the novel as representatives of types and perhaps Annette comes a bit too close to the designation “whore with a heart of gold.” Her motives are sound and reflect well on her.

It’s an enjoyable enough read and comes as close to a “cosy crime” novel as any modern example of the genre.

Pedant’s corner:- “none of the other girls were using it” (none …. was using it.)

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