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Quote by Lewis Grassic Gibbon

“So that was Chris and her reading and schooling, two Chrisses there were that fought for her heart and tormented her. You hated the land and the coarse speak of the folk and learning was brave and fine one day; and the next you'd waken with the peewits crying across the hills, deep and deep, crying in the heart of you and the smell of the earth in your face, almost you'd cry for that, the beauty of it and the sweetness of the Scottish land and skies.”

Quote by Lewis Grassic Gibbon

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Lewis Grassic Gibbon

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“It must have been soon after that when ways and means were much under discussion that Leslie and Ray came to see us in Wokingham. Leslie was working at high pressure on all sorts of subjects but although he was beginning to find his financial worries lessen he still seemed not to have found and in my opinion did not exactly know what he might be able to do best. I suggested that he wrote a great Scots drama or novel. With one voice Leslie and Ray said it would never pay. I protested that it would if it was good enough - that Scotland was gasping for a picture of the true Scotland as he and I knew it - a picture that was neither A House with the Green Shutters nor yet A Bonnie Briar Bush, neither of which to me rang true.”

ScotlandKailyardScottish LiteratureSunset SongJames Leslie Mitchell
Book:Another Song at Sunset: Jean Baxter, Scots poet and friend of Lewis Grassic Gibbon
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“So of the Flanders Moss. It, too, in mist seems to roll on for miles; its heathy surface turns to long waves that paly against the foot of the low range of hills, and beat upon Craigforth as if it were an island in the sea. Through wreathes of steam, the sullen Forth winds in and out between the peat hags, and when a slant of wind leaves it clear for an instant it looks mysterious and dark, as might a stream of quicksilver running down from a mine. When a fish leaps, the sound re-echoes like a bell, as it falls back into the water, and rings spread out till they are lost beneath the banks.”

MistRiver ForthFlanders MossMenteithPeat Hags
Book:A Hatchment
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“I was free with every road as my home. No limitations and no commitments. But then summer passed and winter came and I fell short for safety. I fell for its spell, slowly humming me to sleep, because I was tired and small, too weak to take or handle those opinions and views, attacking me from every angle. Against my art, against my self, against my very way of living. I collected my thoughts, my few possessions and built isolated walls around my values and character. I protected my own definition of beauty and success like a treasure at the bottom of the sea, for no one saw what I saw, or felt the same as I did, and so I wanted to keep to myself. You hide to protect yourself.”

ArtCharacterHomeSuccessArtistValuesSleepViewsBeautyLearningSeaBandProtectSummerMusicianThoughtsSafetyTiredCriticsWinterValueScaredPossessionLondonTreasureIsolationSolitaryFreeOpinionsRoadLimitationsSmallHideWallsSongwriterSingerSpellThe Glass ChildCommitmentsFeared
Book:Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
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“For Scotland is made out of cities and the country and the sea, which means It's so much more, as an imagined space, a geography of the mind, Than its centres of population. Demographics are never enough And the way in which this might best be imagined starts In the work of Hugh MacDiarmid. And the poets and artists Who followed from that. Not as disciples. As students. As witnesses As thinking men and women, who understand the depths, complexities Subtleties and strengths and the cosmic clock, All the resources there, and all the risks required. from 'Scotland's Voices”

ScotlandHugh Macdiarmid
Book:Landmarks: Poets, Portraits and Landscapes of Modern Scotland
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“Yes, I go along with the idea of a Scottish Spring. It was genuinely a time of beginnings, a time of openings, and I always felt that those who left Scotland then - eg. Kenneth White, Douglas Dunn - were too impatient and should have stayed. New international configurations - Sottish-American, Scottish-Russian, Scottish-Brazilian - appeared. New genres like concrete poetry and sound-poetry challenged a fair amount of opposition. I remember Hugh MacDiarmid growling in 1970 "I'd hate an Ian Finlay poem on my gravetstone." Publishers like Wild Hawthorn, Migrant, Eugen Gomringer, Hansjörg Mayer, encouraged Scotland to see the world and the world to see Scotland.”

Counter CultureScottish CultureHugh MacdiarmidDouglas DunnIan Hamilton FinlayKenneth White
Book:Justified Sinners: An Archaeology of Scottish Counter Culture, 1960 - 2000
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