Demon Drink part 2

Third post and I haven't really got round to talking about crime fiction but alcohol is important in Scottish culture and much of the popular fiction produced here is soused in it.

There are all sorts of theories about how Robert Louis Stevenson came to write "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde". Recently it's been claimed as a commentary on Darwin's theories (Hyde being a regression of modern, civilised Man back to an ape-like state). In a literary sense James Hogg would have been a huge influence.

Local knowledge of the story of Deacon Brodie gives a simpler explanation. Stevenson must have been fascinated by the "dual nature" of the dour, Scottish Presbyterian character; all outward respectability with seething passions below the surface. But where does the transforming potion fit in to the story? For me it's about "the Drink". Anyone who has ever been out for a boozy night with the boys (or girls) knows all about how personalities can change under the influence of ethanol.

Strangely enough there's another Billy Connolly link here. He played the good (/bad?) deacon in a TV film from 1997. As I recall, it really played up the boozy aspects of Enlightenment Edinburgh. Strangely enough Deacon Brodie's Tavern carries on this same tradition on the Royal Mile to this day.

Of course there's another newly famous pub in the same city, made so by Ian Rankin and Inspector rebus. Sad geek that I am I have to admit that I try to drop in to the Oxford Bar for a pint whenever I visit Auld Reekie. Nothing better on a crisp, Autumn evening. (I'm also sad enough to try to fit in a visit to Picardy Place for obvious reasons quite apart from the pub across the road).

There are a host of excellent Scottish crime writers on the scene at the moment but one of the most important doesn't consider himself part of the group. A case could be made that William McIlvanney started the literary crime wave back in 1977 with "Laidlaw". Beautiful, lean prose that is poetic in places with a smattering of laugh-out-loud dialogue. It captures the essence of Glasgow patter perfectly.

I read it when it first came out and was blown away by the depth of research McIlvanney had done. In one chapter he describes the casualty department in Glasgow Royal Infirmary and a journey up to the respiratory intensive care unit The description and details are perfect. I had "insider information" because I worked there at the time. The writer had obviously gone over the ground and made notes. To me this was awesome because he obviously didn't have to include such depth.

My friends and I were part of Glasgow's Science Fiction fan group (the "Friends of Kilgore Trout"). We read a lot of SF but would pass around any book that interested us. McIlvanney became an instant favourite. We even made our way out to East Kilbride library one evening when we got word that he was giving a talk. It was terrific and he came across as one of the "good guys". Someone suggested that we ask him to join us for a pint after the talk but we hesitated and missed our chance.

There are references to drink all through "Laidlaw" but the one that stands out for me is a snatch of conversation the detective overhears. He passes two men in the street heading home after a night out. One of them describes his wife's negative attitude to his drinking : "It would put tits on an adder".

I don't know what the hell that means but it sounds right and it still makes me smile. I suspect that my wife feels much the same way on the (increasingly rare) occasions when I overindulge.