Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe abridged!

31 January 2012 23:09

I’ve just managed to plough my way through my very first book by Sir Walter Scott, I had tried before and failed miserably and I hardly ever give up on books – it was The Talisman which felled me. So I was interested to hear a Scottish academic speaking on the radio yesterday as he had recently abridged Scott’s Ivanhoe, you can read about it here. Apparently he has cut it down to 80,000 words so that it’s more manageable for the modern reader.

I don’t know if it’s a good idea really as I don’t think I would feel that I had actually read a book by Sir Walter Scott if it has been gutted. I read The Pirate and I chose that one because I thought it would be a hard subject to make boring. I have to admit though that there were times when it was like wading through thick porridge with not a morsel of sugar or syrup to sustain me along the way.

I read it for the November’s Autumn classic challenge so I’ll be reviewing it on the 4th of February, but I will say that I felt a real sense of achievment when I got to the last page with no skipping or dodging of the slow bits. However I am truly thankful that I didn’t have to read Scott when I was at school!

Beveridge Park, Kirkcaldy, Fife

31 January 2012 00:26

You’re more likely to see far more oyster catchers in Beveridge Park in Kirkcaldy than you ever see down on the shore. I’ve counted over 40 of them all feeding away on whatever creepy crawlie it is they’re getting from the grass. Surely there can’t be that many worms in the ground.

oyster catchers and squirrels

If you look carefully at the above photo you’ll see some squirrels too, there’s one on the grass to the left of the trees and one on the bark of a tree. Sadly they’re just the common, thuggish grey ones. You have to travel further north or over to the west to see the lovely wee native red squirrels.

The seagulls in the photo below are actually standing on thin ice in the middle of the boating pond. I was surpised it was cold enough for the ice to form. Some folks like seagulls but these ones are an absolute menace, especially if they nest on your roof. They’re just a pain in general. Poor Laura got mugged by one last year as she was eating her lunch ‘on the hoof’ on her way to work. A huge seagull came up behind her and she knew nothing about it until she felt a weight on her shoulder, the next thing her sandwich had been snatched from her hand. It can feel like you’re in Daphne du Maurier’s Birds sometimes as they eye you up and they’re the size of a dog!

boating pond

I was amazed to see a cherry/almond tree blossoming in January, at the same time as there’s ice on the pond. It’s usually another couple of months before these trees are in flower, the poor thing looked so cold. It’s been such a weird stop-start sort of winter. I’ve had some pelargonium/geranium plants in my garden which have been flowering all through the winter, albeit very bedraggled and straggly looking. It’ll be an even stranger spring at this rate.

cherry tree

Sadly quite a few of the really old trees in the park just couldn’t withstand the force of the wind of the second hurricane/gale which we had recently. Some of them had obviously been there since the park was first planned over 100 years ago.

The two conifers which fell over at the ornamental fountain are going to be especially missed as they were part of a formal design which is now lop-sided. Such is life – and the death of trees.

Fallen conifers, Beveridge Park, Kirkcaldy

The House with the Green Shutters by George Douglas Brown

30 January 2012 00:19

It was Peggy at Peggy Ann’s Post who put me on to reading this book. She downloaded it from Project Gutenberg but I bought a paperback and, Evee, if you don’t want to download it you can have my copy of the book.

The story is mainly set in the small fictional Scottish town of Barbie which is supposed to be somewhere in the east of Scotland, but not Fife – Lothian-ish I think. The town is aptly named as just about all of the words that come out of the townsfolks’ mouths are barbed comments. There’s one kind character in the whole town, the baker.

John Gourlay is a local businessman who has cornered the market in deliveries at a time when everything had to go by horse and cart. He had cut all his competitors out by delivering goods for nothing until they had to give up their businesses. So you can see he was not a nice chap, he was a real cut throat businessman and his only interest in life seems to have been spending money on his house and making it stand out as the best house in the town.

Gourlay’s favourite pastime was to put other people down at the same time as puffing himself up and he never had a kind word for anyone. As you can imagine he was the most disliked man in town because of his nasty personality, but to be fair the other inhabitants of Barbie weren’t far behind Gourlay in the charmless stakes.

That’s the main problem with the book as it’s difficult to really enjoy a book when it’s full of miserably mean characters. It’s also slow to get going and it wasn’t until about page 70 that I really started getting into it. Although I’m a Scot the fact that it’s written in broad and fairly archaic Scots didn’t help, it takes a while to get into the way of the dialogue.

Eventually I was glad that I had read the book. George Douglas Brown seems to have been doing for small town Scotland much the same as Thomas Hardy did for rural England, in other words captured the essence of the time and place, an honest portrayal, warts and all. As with Hardy, it’s a doom laden read. The moral is pride comes before a fall.

Apparently The House with the Green Shutters was the first book by a Scottish author which was a realistic picture of the times. Previous books had been all sentiment and cosiness and nothing like reality at all, they were known as Kailyard books. It was reading this book which pushed Lewis Grassic Gibbon to write his Sunset Song trilogy, set in the harsh landscape of Aberdeenshire. Anyone reading Green Shutters can’t help but notice that all the women characters are kept very much in the background and I’m sure that must have been an inspiration to Gibbon to write his books with stronger women characters.

There is only one good female character in Green Shutters and she’s only there for a couple of pages – if that. Mrs. Wilson comes from the west of Scotland and has a completely different temperament from the population of Barbie. Ahem – I’m saying nothing!

Andy Murray’s Hair Colour

29 January 2012 00:15

I deliberately didn’t mention Andy Murray and his progress at the Australian Tennis Open in case I jinxed his chances. When he’s in the news I always have a lot of hits on ‘Pining’ because people have googled Andy Murray’s hair colour.

It’s still a mystery to me why anyone should be bothered about the colour of anybody’s hair, but there you go – they are for some reason. People seem to think that his hair might be regarded as being red, and maybe I’m being a wee bit paranoid here, but I don’t think the possibility of him having red hair is being seen as a plus. I think there are still a lot of people out there looking for reasons to dislike him.

So, again for the record – Andy Murray has brown hair, in fact it’s really dark brown hair. Like all Europeans with brown hair the tiny amount of red hairs show up in the sunshine, but that doesn’t mean that their hair is red. It’s the difference between European and Asiatic hair.

Maybe if he did have red hair he would win a tennis major! I certainly regard it as a positive rather than a liability. Discuss!

Beatrice Goes To Brighton by M.C. Beaton

27 January 2012 13:36

I had no idea that M.C. Beaton was a Scot, never mind a fellow Glaswegian until very recently, about five minutes ago actually. I haven’t even seen Hamish McBeth on TV, she wrote those books too. I’ve been meaning to start reading her Agatha Raisin/crime series but I want to start it from the beginning and I haven’t got a hold of the first one yet. So when I saw Beatrice Goes To Brighton in the library I thought I might as well give it a go, even although romance is not my favourite thing.

If you’re looking for holiday/bedtime reading or just something which you don’t have to concentrate on too much then this is the perfect choice. Good light reading and a bit of a laugh now and again. The funniest bits for me were when the characters get all romantic – a la Mills and Boon, it reminded me of when I used to work in a library and to cheer ourselves up in the morning, just before we unlocked the door to let in the public, we used to take turns at opening a Mills and Boon and reading the very last page out loud – in a very plummy voice. Such fun!

In this one Miss Pym, who has had some success as a romantic matchmaker in the past is travelling to Brighton by stage-coach and comes into contact with the 28 year old Lady Beatrice who has recently become a widow, much to her relief. Beatrice had been married off to an older man who was a gambler and boozer, unfortunately it took him 10 years to slowly drink himself to death, by which time he had gone through most of his money.

It wasn’t long before Beatrice’s parents were trying to marry her off again to the ghastly Sir Geoffrey. Can Miss Pym help Beatrice?

Thanks again to Jo at The Book Jotter for pointing me in M.C. Beaton’s direction.

Burns Supper

25 January 2012 23:20

Did you go out to a Burns Supper or did you have a quiet one at home? It’s absolutely donkey’s years since we went to a real Burns Supper but I always have haggis, neeps and tatties on January the 25th. So feast your eyes. If you can see it through the steam!

Haggis for Burns Night

Well, maybe not. Haggis is not the most appetising of foods and it doesn’t do to dwell too much on the ingredients, but this haggis is a vegetarian one, much more pleasant all round and it tastes much the same as the real thing.

So we had a quiet night in. What about you, were you addressing the haggis – or just eating it?

Kodak no more?!

24 January 2012 23:25

Like a lot of people my age I’ve had the sad task of clearing out elderly relatives’ homes and in each of them there have been boxes of old photos and albums to look through. Hearing about the demise of Kodak on the news the other day got me thinking about my inadvertent collection of unknown folks from the past. Annoyingly very few of the photos have any information on the back but they’re still fascinating glimpses into history. I even like the Kodak wallets they came in.

I do know the story of the people in the photos below – meet Jack and his wife Weeanna. Jack was my husband’s great uncle and he was a Clydeside engineer, working in one of the many shipyards on the Clyde in the early 1900s. Unfortunately he had a bit of a fiery temper which led to him punching another chap who just happened to be the shipyard owner’s son. This led to Jack being dismissed but worse than that he was blacklisted which meant that none of the other yards would give him work. So, reluctantly he left home for America and ended up working in Ford’s Motor Company, in Detroit I suppose as he lived in Michigan. Presumably he helped build cars, a bit of a come-down from building beautiful ships.


He made the best of it though and met his wife in the US, for years the family thought her name was (wee) Anna but it was Weeanna and I have no idea where she came from. I love these photos they sent home. Jack is obviously saying – Look Mum and Dad, I’m a success now. I have my wife and children.

Here we are again with our car this time with Weeanna, our daughter and the newest addition to the family in the back of it.

This is our house with Weeanna in the doorway, haven’t I done well! It has all worked out for the best.

And we still have these images, thanks to Kodak. It’s all we do have now as Jack and his wife are long dead and even the children are probably gone too, they didn’t keep in contact after their parents’ death.

Now it looks like the end of Kodak, for photos anyway. I’m glad that I have loads of albums of my own boys when they were wee, but photos seem to be a thing of the past. It’s a bit of a shame really.

More William by Richmal Crompton

23 January 2012 00:48

I was having a bit of a difficult time deciding which book to read a couple of weeks ago, nothing seemed to fit my mood. Then it dawned on me that I hadn’t read a ‘Just William’ book for ages. I galumph past my boxed set umpteen times every day as it’s in a bookcase half-way up the stairs – or on the mezzanine level if you’re an estate agent.

Anyway, it turned out that William was just what I needed to give me a guaranteed good laugh. Richmal Crompton (a woman) was born in Lancashire in 1890. The first story about William Brown appeared in 1919 in the Home magazine, 38 William books were written with the last one being published in 1970, after Richmal Crompton’s death. The Sunday Times said that the Just William series was “probably the funniest, toughest children’s books ever written.”

I don’t know what they meant by toughest but the books are a hoot and in this one William is 11 years old but he’s as anarchic as ever and gets up to all sorts of crazy high jinks much to the horror of his poor parents.

I think even modern day kids would love these stories although I’m quite glad that I didn’t give them to my own boys to read when they were wee. Life was chaotic enough without giving them more ideas!

It all reminds me so much of my own childhood with my older brother William who wasn’t much better than William Brown when it came to pea shooters, practical jokes and general mayhem. He always got off with it too! I’m not bitter, honestly!

Thomas Carlyle Lived Here

22 January 2012 00:36

It’s amazing what you see when you’re walking to the supermarket, if you happen to be in the Stockbridge area of Edinburgh (again). I was admiring the gardens, there were quite a few viburnums blossoming, when I noticed that one of the terraced houses had a sign above the fanlight. Thomas Carlyle lived here – or words to that effect. It’s a very nice terrace but being Edinburgh the houses will cost an arm and a leg, even without a famous author as a past inhabitant. I love the fanlights above the doors, there are so many different designs. I just wish the present inhabitants would cut their climbing rose back a wee bit.

Thomas Carlyle lived here

It’s great that the window shutters are still in working order too, most of the houses seem to have internal shutters. It must make it nice and cosy, especially when there’s a howling gale. They would also be handy for keeping the early sunlight out in the summer, it’s no fun trying to get to sleep when there’s bright daylight outside at about 3 or 4 in the morning.

Thomas Carlyle's house

The house next door to Carlyle’s has quite an unusual fanlight (the window above the door). It would make a good pattern for a patchwork quilt, if you’re of that band of crafters.

Georgian House in Edinburgh

Carlyle lived in Kirkcaldy for a couple of years when he was teaching here but the powers that be pulled the place down years ago. You can see the street that it was in in a previous post here.

So what were we doing in Stockbridge? It wasn’t my fault (it wisnae me). Jack wanted to go to buy a book he had seen there a few weeks ago and hadn’t bought because he thought he already had it, he was wrong, luckily it was still there. He bought Space Chantey by R.A. Lafferty and The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke.

I ended up buying Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree and a 1934 copy of Priorsford by O. Douglas. Neither of them had been there a couple of weeks ago. That particular shop must have some turnover of books because they all seemed to be different this time.

Why was I at Waitrose? Buying more scone ingredients of course. Fingers crossed and ever hopeful that I can produce something good enough to photograph next time!

Scottish words: poor wee scone

21 January 2012 00:05

My recent scone failure reminded me of this one. Okay so it’s a Scottish phrase rather than a word and I hadn’t heard it before moving to the east of Scotland so I associate it with the Edinburgh area, but I love it.

In the west of Scotland we normally just say ‘poor wee soul’ – which is universal really so nothing very interesting about that and ‘poor wee scone’ is just a more striking way of expressing the same sentiment. Sometimes scone is used as a term of endearment in the way that ‘hen’ is used. I quite like being called hen but I have a horrible feeling that the usage is dying out.

In France they use the word cabbage as a sort of term of endearment really. Who said the French were romantic?!

In Germany I think it’s usually just babies which are described as little snails. Well I’ve seen some scary looking babies in my day but that’s taking it a wee bit too far.

I think I’d rather be described as a scone than either of those words, even if I’m a poor wee scone!