Reviews
Books
Small Expectations, Donald S Murray
It was 1997 when Donald S Murray published his first book of short stories, Special Deliverance. That was the year of New Labour, the year that saw almost universal rejoicing at a massive change of government, although that is long forgotten now. Now in 2010, with another critically important election looming, comes Small Expectations from the same writer, a vivid and extraordinary book of stories and poems.
Since 1997, there has been war in Afghanistan and Iraq and Donald S Murray, originally from Ness, has seen life take him north to Shetland to live and work, while his travels and studies have taken him even further north, to the Faroes and to Iceland. Meanwhile, he has published a number of small books of poetry and the nationally-regarded Guga Hunters, which attracted favourable reviews from London-based daily newspapers who rarely pay attention to the writing, however good, of an author so far beyond their normal metropolitan ken.
Now comes Small Expectations, a vivid reminder of the links between poetry and short story writing with a literary power and psychological darkness that reminded me immediately of the impact that Ian McEwan’s First Love, Last Rites had on me as I read it for the first time in the mid-1970s.
Published by Two Ravens Press in Ullapool and supported by the Scottish Arts Council, Small Expectations allows vivid insights into life in the Islands, in the Gaidhealtachd, and, like all great short stories, in the universe as a whole.
Unfortunately, the book only arrived at the EVENTS office on the weekend before our publication day, not allowing me time to read all of it properly, by any means. But I defy anyone to think about the linguistic and cultural clash between Gaelic and English in the same way after reading The Ghost Inside My Throat and other poems and stories under the heading Voices In The Hebrides. The contrast Donald seeks to express can be shown from extracts from one of the poems. Once upon a time:
Gaelic was sewn into us like grains
of oats, turnip seed, split potatoes
ploughs folded below earth each spring.
But now “croftland lies fallow” and:
Where potatoes stalked and blossomed
the words of English, broadcast on the air
find strange new seedbeds on our lips
And I further defy anyone to drive as fast or impatiently as formerly on the caravan-bedevilled A9 after reading Scenes of Hebridean Haunting: Part One.
For anyone who knows Donald’s writing already, this book is clearly a must. For anyone interested in short stories as a literary form, again, buy Small Expectations. For those interested in cultural context, like what happens when you maroon a Gael whose soul is split by poetic insight in the midwinter darkness of Shetland under the influence of Russian and Icelandic folk tales, again, nip out and get Small Expectations.
Small Expectations, Donald S Murray,
Two Ravens Press 140pp £9,99
Memories of the island of Scarp
Another recent publication from the IBT is Memories of the Island of Scarp, by Donald John Macleod, who was born on the island. The book is one of vital collection of practical memories which brings the past actively and passionately to life for those from beyond that place and time. The Scarp which Donald John describes is only 60 years away but it seems like another world altogether. Imagine anyone today being either willing or indeed able to row from Scarp to Tarbert for coal. The two men carried a ton of coal in sacks from East Loch Tarbert over to their boat in the West Loch. They then rowed back to Scarp and carried the coal half a mile across the island from the landing place. Ouch!
One key to understanding life in the past to remember the sea was the roadway for most people for many millennia. So Breanish and even St Kilda were both close to Scarp in a way that Stornoway was not. Of Donald John’s own parents, one came from Uig and the other from Scarp. Not untypically, they met in the USA after emigrating in the early 1920s.
The loss of Scarp as a separate community – the most recent depopulation in the Western Isles dating to 1971 – seems in a way more acute than St Kilda. It was feasible to maintain a community there, although the way of life would have changed as it has everywhere. But the lack of a slipway on the mainland opposite doomed the island to slow decline. Geography was also against it in a way that it was not for Baleshare, off North Uist, which had a similar sized population in 1950, and gained a causeway to the mainland in 1962. Anyone who has heard stories of the hazards crossing that apparently benign shallow strait will have an insight into the daily hazards faced by the Scarpachs on their crossing from Hushinish.
The toughness required to live in the community as it was is exemplified by the Scarp drowning and rescue of 1932. A boat capsized en route to Scarp from Loch resort with two men and 32 hogs on board. One man was lost and all the animals. The rescue effort was launched from the island and recovered the survivor and the boat. No lifeboat, no Coastguard and, of course, no helicopter – just resolve and community willpower.
Personally, I am always a little put off by books that start by describing places as the happiest on earth and I feared the content would be flowery and insubstantial when this one does that. No way – this is a tough little memoir which shows what people thought and did in that past which remains, more than ever, another country.
Memories of the island of Scarp.
Donald John Macleod. Island Book Trust. 32pp. £6
TV and Theatre
Siubhlachan:Mòr Mineag
Review by Fred Silver
What makes a TV programme believeable – especially if it is about time travel, set in North Uist and filmed on a shoestring budget? Is it pace, is it the storyline, is it the casting?
Whatever the recipe for such success is, Siubhlachan:Mòr Mineag, shown on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day on BBC ALBA, has certainly found it. And that is some statement, I can assure you, coming from an devoted fan of Dr Who, Torchwood and other science fiction who was glued to the latest Dr Who episodes over the holiday period.
I saw the half-hour long Siubhlachan: Mòr Mineag and the original award-winning, five-minute Siubhlachan film at a special media preview in An Lanntair before Christmas and thought they were both phenomenal. Having missed the actual broadcasts, I was able to get a special review DVD to watch the broadcast again.
To be honest, I wondered whether it would be as good the second time, because I now knew the twists and turns of the plot. No need to worry – despite once again being almost entirely dependent on the subtitles to follow the words being used, I was hooked again, hair on the back of the neck standing on end, goose-pimples, the lot.
Having seen the final seconds of the programme again, I uttered the same unspoken plea for further episodes which I made into the darkened air of An Lanntair’s auditorium several weeks ago – and then started to analyze why it worked so well.
For a start, the storyline is good with unexpected twists and a strength in depth which made me ask director Uisdean Murray after the theatre screening whether it was based on old myths from the island. He said it wasn’t yet it somehow successfully carried that feeling of age and authenticity.
The filming is taut and the close-up work is very effective, which must have been very hard work indeed for the younger and much less experienced members of the cast. There was also a strong case of less is more. There was no melodrama, no theatrical over-acting. It left no doubt that if this story had happened, this is how it would have happened.
The cast were really good. In reviewing any artistic work, the reviewer has to make allowances normally for the context. In other words, it is no good complaining that a local panto does not have the singing breadth and power of an Italian opera company. It never will have; you have to judge it in comparison to other amateur pantomimes. But, to be honest, I think this cast’s performances would stand comparison at a very high level. Cassandra Maclean was Seonag. Totally. And in the tone and use of one word, right at the end of the film, she not only conjured up what the next episode might cover but completed an entire layer of the story. You have to be right into the part to carry off something like that. Similarly, the performance by David Walker was tremendous. If I meet him again in the Park Bar, as I did a few months ago, I may well take a step backwards. He exuded menace. He was not acting as if he was menacing. He defined menace as a universal force.
Clearly, the director and the writers play a key role in the success of any production. One major achievement in this programme was to avoid the lurch into travelogue that many programmes filmed in the Hebrides have succumbed to in the past. This is a kind of “while we’re here, in this beautiful setting, we will spend a lot of time showing off what it looks like” attitude which tends to end up in lot of pointless panning across distant skylines. Not Siubhlachan:Mòr Mineag. Even though I actually knew most of the locations, they became mythical, different and very much part of the story. The other key elephant trap they did not fall into was creating a full version of the short film which just expanded it over six times as many minutes. There were plenty of new ideas, lots of delicate and swift brush strokes and a very effective linking of past and present, cause and effect, motive and action. Probably the only thing that jarred was that they really needed to cast another younger girl as a young Seonag for a flashback scene with her now-deceased grandfather – but it is wonder they could do what they did with the tiny budget available, probably about the same amount as BBC Wales spent on Billy Piper’s make-up during her time as Dr Who’s companion.
Come to think about it, it takes some nerve on behalf of BBC ALBA to throw a programme like this into a Christmas season dominated by the time-travelling Scot David Tennant – but, to my mind, Siubhlachan: Mòr Mineag could stand the heat of that particular kitchen. In fact, to carry the storyline while being unable to call on galactic libraries of special effects is another aspect of its success. Plus the music was really good, too – well integrated and providing atmosphere without smothering the listener with unsubtle hints about advancing doom.
I think we are going to see and hear a whole lot more about Uisdean Murray who has already stacked up quite a list of awards for his work. (Lily Island Films)
The Siubhlachan five minute short film was the Winner of Best Professional Film at the 2008 FilmG Awards. His short feature film Sessions of the Mind (2008) won the Best International Horror Short Award at the 2008 New York International Independent Film Festival. Sweet Stained (2006), another
short film, of which he was producer/director, was nominated for Best Director at the Hollywood DV/HD Film Festival 2007. The short film Jemima: Photographic Trophy, of which he was co-writer/producer/director, won the Best Horror Award at the Deep Fried Film Festival 2006 and was nominated for Best Horror Short and Best Supporting Actress (Hollie Gallen) in a Short at the Action on Film Festival 2008.
Two final points. One plea, to the high-ups of BBC ALBA – follow the unanimous view of all those I have spoken to about this programme and commission a series. Another plea to Uisdean and his team at Lily Island Films – if you get the chance to do a series, stick with this cast if you can and build on their commitment and success so far.
