They've not only got the

man's name wrong. They've

got the wrong man

 

Kenneth Roy

 

 

The story so far: on the sign outside Milne's Bar, spiritual home (or drinking den) of the Scottish literati, Hugh MacDiarmid's name is spelled Hugh Mc Daimid and Norman MacCaig's name is spelled Norman Mc Craig. With the help of our missionaries in the east, we have been waging a somewhat forlorn campaign to have this offensive sign removed or amended. I bring news of an unexpected breakthrough. Could SR be on the brink of its first result of the year?
     There has been no need for a grave constitutional clash or a date with destiny in order to achieve a brave new Rose Street. It has been accomplished pretty well single-handed by the bloody-minded persistence of Irene Brown, who has been giving the management of Milne's Bar 'a bit of heid nippin'. When this indomitable SR reader called at the legendary boozer for the first time, she was assured by the duty manager that the sign was Edinburgh City Council's responsibility. Edinburgh City Council begged to differ.
     She then returned to the pub with this incriminating information. The duty manager has now 'graciously' accepted that the sign should be removed and has been in touch with the area manager to seek formal approval. He reckons this will be possible within a week and has invited Irene Brown back to inspect the result – or deliver a further heid nippin.
      Watch this space – or rather watch the space outside Milne's Bar.

 

      Sadly, however, we are no sooner resolving one Edinburgh literary scandal than another materialises on the very wall of the Scottish Parliament. In yesterday's edition, Edwin Moore expressed his disgust that Alasdair Gray had been mis-spelled Alisdair in the engraving below his celebrated quotation: 'Work as if you live in the early days of a better nation'. It is one of those sayings vulnerable to parody. Stuck for copy one morning, having arrived at the office after a drenching, I amended it to: 'Work as if you live in the early days of a wetter nation'. It seemed quite funny at the time.
     It is indeed disgusting that Alasdair Gray's name has been mis-spelled Alisdair. If we cannot trust our masters to check a simple spelling before they set the stonemason to work at some cost to the rest of us, what can we trust them with? The proverbial piss-up in a brewery would seem beyond their capabilities, to say nothing of the small matter of running an independent state.
     As it happens, it is worse – very much worse – than this.
     After yesterday's edition went online, the following email arrived from Michael Elcock in Canada:
       Not only have they mis-spelled Alasdair Gray's name on the wall of the Scottish Parliament, the quote on the wall was actually made by Dennis Lee. I believe Alasdair has given up pointing this out. He only used the quote – properly attributed at the time – in an epigraph to one of his books.
     So, let's get this straight. Not only have they got the man's name wrong. They have actually got the wrong man. It appears that no one thought to verify with Alasdair Gray that this was his saying. If they had, Mr Gray would have disabused them at once.
     Next question: who is Dennis Lee? Born in Toronto in 1939, he is a distinguished poet, teacher, editor and critic. He is also a children's writer, working – in his own words; and they really are his own words – to 'free Canadian children from a colonial mentality by creating poems rooted in the words and activities of their everyday lives'. Among his works of non-fiction is 'The University Game', 'in which he calls for freedom from inhibiting educational institutions'.
     The admirable Dennis Lee does sound like one of us. Unfortunately, he is not one of us. And his name is not Alasdair Gray. Or even Alisdair Gray. It is, I suppose, pointless to suggest that the Scottish Parliament should remove the engraving in question. I predict that it will stay there, a tiny caricature of so much that is wrong with Scotland, until they decide to pull down the building and start again; an event all too possible in the not entirely distant future.
     I hesitate to give you any more grief in this short column, but I have just noticed that, on the sign outside Milne's Bar, they have given Sydney Goodsir Smith a knighthood.


Kenneth Roy is editor of the Scottish Review