On the appearance of Calum
Maclean’s only book printed in the spring of 1959, The Irish Times may have been one of the very first papers to have
reviewed it. The book had been delayed for quite a while because of Maclean’s
illness and it would have delighted him when he read that reviews of his book
were so positive and that they all highly recommended this book which had been
more than six years in the making:
His heart’s in the Highlands
Calum I. Maclean, a Gaelic speaker
from the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, made many friends during the years
he spent in this country, studying and collecting folklore.
They will be foremost among those who welcome his book
*“The Highlands,” in which he has done for his own beloved land what, in some
ways, Robin Flower and Synge did for parts of the West and South-West of this
country.
This is the book of a scholar and scientist trained in
comparative folk-culture. It is also the book of a poet for whom the song, the
legend, the tale of old times have their own colour and value and full-blooded
life, not just their reference numbers and their exact places in filing cabinet
or pigeon-hole.
It is the book of a Highlander, with not sentiment or
cant about him, who genuinely loves his own land and is never far removed from
the melancholy fact that old ways have suffered, that the great glens are too
empty and the people too few.
Since the book is splendidly illustrated, the study of
the text with an eye on the pictures, means that you have ─ almost been to the
Highlands.
The slightly sardonic “almost” is never far absent from
Calum Maclean’s approach to the subject for he is very sensitive towards
anything that might possibly be described as a stage-Scot or stage-Hielander.
A couple of miles west from Callander he enters through
the Pass of Leny, goes along the shore of lovely Loch Lubnaig and reflects on
the beauty of bonnie Strathyre, and reflects also: “Most Scots, even if they
have never seen the strath, have heard about its beauty because of the popular
song ‘Bonny Strathyre.’”
There is, perhaps, a gentle reproach implied just as
there may be too a gentle reproach when he comes to the churchyard of
Balquidder where Rob Roby MacGregor lies buried.
“Gaelic,” he writes, “is still spoken in the Braes of
Balquidder and this must be about the most southerly outpost of the language
now. There is a profusion of beautiful placenames around Loch Vaoil and even in
their Angicized form they sound well: Lochlarig, Ardcarnaig, Monachylemore,
Craigruie, Murlagan, Strenvar, Achleskine, and Stronslaney. I am sure that only
very few people in Balquidder now know what all these names mean. No doubt Rob
Roy knew the meaning of them all.”
With
learning, love and great beauty, this book reveals the Highlands. Naturally, it
is meant, first before all, for Scotsmen. Secondly, it is meant for Irishmen,
because of our links with Gaelic Scotland and because of many common problems.
After
that it’s for everybody─who wants to know about one of the most impressive
areas in these islands.
It’s
a treasure of a book: to read, and re-read to look at with delight.
T.
J.
*The Highlands: by Calum I. Maclean, (Batsford: 25/-)
References:
TJ, ‘His heart’s in the Highlands’, The Irish Times (25 April 1959), p. 5.
Image:
Cover of the first edition of The Highlands (London: Batsford, 1959), showing Glencoe, Argyllshire. The photograph was taken by Noel Habgood.
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