Angus Martin, Book Review
Posted: Wed Oct 19, 2011 10:11 pmBook Review
By Hill and Shore in South Kintyre. Angus Martin. The Grimsay Press, 2011, 304 pp., £14. 95p.
When a new issue of The Kintyre Magazine comes along, what’s the first thing you turn to? The fresh insight into local history? The carefully researched genealogy? The latest discovery about moths? I turn to ‘By Hill and Shore’, the regular column by Angus Martin, which quite probably touches on all the topics above and more besides, and has done so, amazingly, for twenty years. Most welcome, therefore, is this book, a generous anthology drawn from those two decades during which Angus has been walking, observing and musing, and writing up his notes for our delight. (If your bookshelves house a complete run of the magazine and thus of the column, you needn’t worry; while most of the items are reprinted from past issues, some are previously unpublished and a few have been specially written for the book. You’ll still find something new here.)
The approach has been to extract topics from the column, arrange them chronologically (in general; some related topics are grouped together), and give them brief indicative titles (‘Rowan Berries’; ‘Transfixed by Swifts’). Thus the contents list provides a good idea as to the scope of the book, and acts as a powerful incentive to read on. I couldn’t wait to turn to ‘Rooks’ Fouling Protests’, though, sadly, the protests proved to be about the rooks, and not, as I rather hoped, by them. But ‘Seggans and Seamus Heaney’ lived up to its promise, as did ‘Leaping Seals’.
The scope is wide indeed. The titles just quoted suggest that natural history topics are in the majority, and that is probably true. But, as you might hope, there is more: some archaeology, some history, notes on dialect words and place-names and stars and superstitions, observations on society past and present. There are appreciations of several well-known local characters, and – a special joy – photographs of some of them. (The book is illustrated by over 80 splendid photographs in all, scenery and animals and artefacts as well as people.) Thank goodness there’s an index, so that you can find your way again to something that has really stuck in your mind: the discussion of witch hares, perhaps, or the stunning description of Venus, the morning star, laying a path of light over the sea.
The mention of Seamus Heaney above points up another feature which is pretty unusual in your average natural history book (though, as you will have realised, that is not how I would describe ‘By Hill and Shore’). Angus walks and observes and notes in South Kintyre, but what he sees is liable to remind him of something he has read, referring to quite another area, perhaps another country, a related custom, a philosophical point (his reading is massively wide). He quotes the passage in question – I will allow that he possibly goes home and checks the exact wording – and he gives precise details of the source. In other words, this book opens doors, leading us on to writers and ideas we had never thought of exploring before. In addition, and in passing, we occasionally get a quick burst of Angus’s own poetry, as and when it has sprung from his observations by hill and shore. No, not an average natural history book at all.
Among all these rooks and witch hares and seggans and meteors, everybody will have a favourite type of item. Mine, luckily for me, occurs quite often in the book. It happens when Angus is on Ben Gullion or some other vantage point, just standing still looking at the view. Sometimes it’s a fiery sunset, sometimes a brief whiteness of snow. Sometimes there’s a kestrel, or a flock of gulls crosses the sky. He brings the scene before us in wonderful description, not a wasted word; he is a poet after all. These are the moments that remain with me, and will remain, I think, with anyone who loves Kintyre and readsthis book.
MOIRA BURGESS
(Reproduced from The Kintyre Magazine No. 70, Autumn 2011.)
By Hill and Shore in South Kintyre. Angus Martin. The Grimsay Press, 2011, 304 pp., £14. 95p.
When a new issue of The Kintyre Magazine comes along, what’s the first thing you turn to? The fresh insight into local history? The carefully researched genealogy? The latest discovery about moths? I turn to ‘By Hill and Shore’, the regular column by Angus Martin, which quite probably touches on all the topics above and more besides, and has done so, amazingly, for twenty years. Most welcome, therefore, is this book, a generous anthology drawn from those two decades during which Angus has been walking, observing and musing, and writing up his notes for our delight. (If your bookshelves house a complete run of the magazine and thus of the column, you needn’t worry; while most of the items are reprinted from past issues, some are previously unpublished and a few have been specially written for the book. You’ll still find something new here.)
The approach has been to extract topics from the column, arrange them chronologically (in general; some related topics are grouped together), and give them brief indicative titles (‘Rowan Berries’; ‘Transfixed by Swifts’). Thus the contents list provides a good idea as to the scope of the book, and acts as a powerful incentive to read on. I couldn’t wait to turn to ‘Rooks’ Fouling Protests’, though, sadly, the protests proved to be about the rooks, and not, as I rather hoped, by them. But ‘Seggans and Seamus Heaney’ lived up to its promise, as did ‘Leaping Seals’.
The scope is wide indeed. The titles just quoted suggest that natural history topics are in the majority, and that is probably true. But, as you might hope, there is more: some archaeology, some history, notes on dialect words and place-names and stars and superstitions, observations on society past and present. There are appreciations of several well-known local characters, and – a special joy – photographs of some of them. (The book is illustrated by over 80 splendid photographs in all, scenery and animals and artefacts as well as people.) Thank goodness there’s an index, so that you can find your way again to something that has really stuck in your mind: the discussion of witch hares, perhaps, or the stunning description of Venus, the morning star, laying a path of light over the sea.
The mention of Seamus Heaney above points up another feature which is pretty unusual in your average natural history book (though, as you will have realised, that is not how I would describe ‘By Hill and Shore’). Angus walks and observes and notes in South Kintyre, but what he sees is liable to remind him of something he has read, referring to quite another area, perhaps another country, a related custom, a philosophical point (his reading is massively wide). He quotes the passage in question – I will allow that he possibly goes home and checks the exact wording – and he gives precise details of the source. In other words, this book opens doors, leading us on to writers and ideas we had never thought of exploring before. In addition, and in passing, we occasionally get a quick burst of Angus’s own poetry, as and when it has sprung from his observations by hill and shore. No, not an average natural history book at all.
Among all these rooks and witch hares and seggans and meteors, everybody will have a favourite type of item. Mine, luckily for me, occurs quite often in the book. It happens when Angus is on Ben Gullion or some other vantage point, just standing still looking at the view. Sometimes it’s a fiery sunset, sometimes a brief whiteness of snow. Sometimes there’s a kestrel, or a flock of gulls crosses the sky. He brings the scene before us in wonderful description, not a wasted word; he is a poet after all. These are the moments that remain with me, and will remain, I think, with anyone who loves Kintyre and readsthis book.
MOIRA BURGESS
(Reproduced from The Kintyre Magazine No. 70, Autumn 2011.)