crazyscotsmanthe1st

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Election 2024

So, the Tories are out - including many high ranking ones that have lost their seats, including Jacob Rees Mogg, Liz Truss and Penny Mordaunt. This, for many people, is cause for celebration - or at least a sigh of relief.

It's been a long time coming, so let's remind ourselves what's happened since 2010 -first there was Cameron and Osborne's austerity, the bedroom tax and rising dependence on foodbanks, the heartlessness of an ideology that blamed the poorest in society for the banking crash of 2008. Then the Brexit referendum, in which the UK made, frankly, a terrible choice after a dismal Remain campaign and downright lies from the Leave side. This led to Cameron fleeing the field, leaving Theresa May to try to hold together a divided party and try to thrash out a deal that nobody could agree on. Then Boris Johnson mishandling Covid, partying while we isolated, wasting billions on dodgy PPE and track and trace systems. Liz Truss crashing the economy and becoming the shortest-lived PM in history. Then the Tory insiders betting on the date of the election, and Sunak skiving the end of the D-Day commemorations.

There's probably a lot I've missed, but those are the things that spring to mind at time of writing. At the end of any government's time in office, there's always failures and scandals you can look back on. But I don't think there's ever been one like this. It's a terrible, shameful legacy. It's well past time this shower of selfish, callous, incompetent toffs were kicked into the gutter.

As for what replaces them, well, time will tell. The new government is shiny and polished and refreshing - but how long for? I don't hold out much hope for Starmer, but perhaps he'll suprise me.

Me, myself, I voted SNP because I wanted representatives who will stand up for Scotland and defend our interests in this new parliament, dominated as I knew it would be by a large Labour majority. Sadly, my hopes were completely dashed. It's difficult not to feel despondent and depressed.

Yet, to put it into context, Labour swept into power with 34% of the vote across the UK, while the SNP received 30% of the vote in Scotland. It's thanks to the peculiarities of the "First Past the Post" system that the two parties' fortunes differ so sharply.

Already the opponents of independence and the SNP are declaring that independence is "dead", or "put to bed", "forever" or "for a generation". Of course this is nonsense - as long as there are a significant number of people in Scotland who want it - and polls consistently put it at close to 50% - it will continue to be a live issue in Scottish politics, even if the road ahead is blocked and the future of the campaign uncertain.

In 1296, after his initial military victory over the Scots, Edward I declared "a man does good work when he rids himself of sh*t".

In 1707, after the signing of the Act of Union, the Earl of Seafield said "now there's the end of an old song".

In 1995, then Shadow Scottish Secretary George Robertson said "devolution will kill Nationalism stone dead".

You see, we've been here before. Our movement has seen many "deaths", but the flame still burned in enough of our people's hearts. It will never die. Years, decades, centuries from now, if humanity survives, there will be people living in this part of the world who call themselves Scots and who, rightly, exert or demand control of their own affairs. The unionists can rage and froth and gloat, but we're not going away.

The support of independence for Scotland is a noble, just and vital cause. Vital, because it's the only way Scotland can get itself noticed and taken seriously. Only the spectre of independence forces Westminster politicians to acknowledge Scotland's needs and rights. Without it we are ignored and marginalised.

There's another great danger too - the rise of Reform. Labour's victory was in part thanks to a significant part of the Tory vote bleeding away to Nigel Farage and his dispicable mob. So don't be fooled by Starmer's red rosette - this election marks a drift towards the far right.

These are the challenges and the battles that lie ahead of us. Only by keeping the cause of independence alive can we exert Scotland's right to a better future.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

“It’s for your own good”

From 1920 to 1933, the manufacture, transportation, and sale of alcohol was banned in the United States. The legislation was enacted by well-meaning, idealistic lawmakers who thought they were doing a good thing for society. This follows a long pattern, as old as time, of the tendency of people who believe they have right on their side to tell the rest of us what’s good or bad for us. “It’s for your own good”, they say, before going off to look in a mirror and bask in their own self-righteousness.

Of course, history tells us that alcohol prohibition didn’t work. Prohibition never has - look at the more recent “war on drugs”. If you ban something completely, you drive it underground and hand control of it to criminals, both petty and organised. Prohibition leads to gangsters as surely as night follows day, and eventually lawmakers must bow to the inevitable, loosen restrictions and attempt to regulate and mitigate the damage. Although this hasn’t happened yet in the UK with regard to drugs, most charities and experts are calling for it. And the evidence from elsewhere suggests it is the only sensible approach.

Why am I talking about prohibition? Because I can see warning signs. Like devolution, prohibition is a process not an event. The passing of prohibition laws in the US happened after a long, sustained campaign by the temperance movement and many previous attempts to get legislation through Congress. Though no Scottish politician is currently talking about prohibition, we can see evidence of the same idealistic self-righteousness, the same tendency to ban us from things “for our own good”.

As a member of the SNP for many years, I was aware of this tendency lurking in some corners of the party. It was the SNP who introduced legislation limiting hours of sale, reducing the drink-drive threshold, and minimum pricing. There were very good reasons given for these changes, there always are. But when taken together as statements of intent, they point in an alarming direction. And that’s before we get into the current approach to covid restrictions.

If you’ve been following me on here or social media, you’ll know that I recently quit the SNP because of Nicola Sturgeon’s restrictions on hospitality, which I deem to be excessive, counter-productive and harmful. Even as infections fall and the vaccine roll-out continues, she is persisting with curfews as pubs begin to re-open. Curfews are a very bad idea, for several reasons:

1. They ignore that both TIME and SPACE are dimensions that can be used for social distancing, cramming everyone into the limited hours available instead of allowing more time for them to come and go.

2. They result in everyone spilling out onto the street at the same time.

3. They make it more likely that people will break the rules and go back to each others' homes to continue drinking, or just do that instead of going to the pub - which is a controlled environment. Track and trace identified that home visits were a much greater vector in infections.

4. They were tried last year and had little to no impact on the rate of infections. She is persisting with a failed strategy.

As with prohibition, the more you try to limit or restrict something, the more unintended and unpleasant consequences there are.

But that’s if the consequences really are unintended. When seen in the light of the SNP’s pre-existing attitudes towards alcohol, a bigger and even more troubling picture emerges. What if the real agenda isn’t so much the suppression of a virus, but more the permanent alteration of our society.

With pubs being driven out of business by these restrictions, we’ll see the airbrushing and gentrification of our towns and city centres. The spaces occupied by pubs will simply become more Sainsbury’s and Starbucks. Streets that were once lively and exciting places will become quiet, anonymous and sterile. They will fit into a picture more acceptable to hand-wringing puritans and middle class snobs.

But the effects will be far from beneficial to our society. Pubs are controlled environments where you can be cut off if you’re too drunk, or thrown out if you become violent. They are places to escape to if you’re lonely or unhappy at home. In many cases, they are their own little communities, safe spaces where people feel they belong.

If we lose our pubs, there will be serious consequences for mental health, domestic violence, and the social cohesion of our society. If most drinking is done at home with alcohol being purchased from supermarkets or off-licenses, it will be easier for the puritanical politicians to take aim at it. Prohibition might not be on the agenda now, but I can forsee it being so if events play out as I fear.

I’ll support Nicola Sturgeon as far as independence, because I believe that’s a far better future for Scotland than being dragged into the quagmire of Brexit Britain.

But after that, I want someone else to lead us. I’m sorry, but I no longer trust her or have faith in her vision of what an independent Scotland should be like. I want a society that is truly free, not strictly controlled by people who “know what’s good for us”.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Popping the Cherry

This isn’t my usual territory for rants, so I’ll hold my hands up straight away. Many who are better versed in these matters will probably find my opinions simplistic, naive and/or unrefined. But I feel compelled to comment on recent events which have ramifications for a movement I care deeply about.

Joanna Cherry is, by all accounts, a very intelligent and hard working politician. Her contribution to the legal cases regarding the proroguing of parliament and the reversibility of Brexit were extremely helpful and meaningful. She is impressive, there is no doubt.

She has an ego, as most folk in public life probably need to. By its very nature, politics requires and attracts people who are opinionated and very sure of themselves, both in their ability and in the justness of their chosen cause(s). This can often be a double-edged sword, as the very ego that propels them into their position becomes a factor in their downfall. I believe Cherry very much falls into this category - look no further than her “I’ve been sacked” tweet, which was dripping with bitterness and wounded pride.

Officially, her removal from the front bench of the SNP’s Westminster group was nothing more than a simple reshuffle. These are fairly common in politics, to keep teams fresh and give some talents a chance while others “take a break”. But if one of those “taking a break” has recently been underperforming and/or are strongly affiliated with a certain faction or policy direction, it can have much wider implications. Since even Cherry’s harshest critics can’t really accuse her of underperforming, the consensus is definitely the latter.

There seems to be two strands to the speculation - one is that she is an ally of Alex Salmond, and is planning a leadership bid. Personally I’m a little sceptical about this. She may well make a bid for the leadership now, but I don’t see her getting very far. The SNP is riding high in the polls and Nicola Sturgeon has towering approval ratings. Changing leader now, when the incumbent is so strong and so soon before a crucial election, would be suicidally unwise and frankly bonkers.

And while the Sturgeon v Salmond saga might get political hacks drooling and present a tiny chink of hope to beleaguered unionists, the reality is that most ordinary folk are far more concerned with Covid and Brexit. Who said what to who, who lied and who conspired in a dirty little court case that ended in an acquittal has no bearing at all on people’s day-to-day lives. It’s a distraction and an irrelevance.

The second strand, which I take far more seriously, is the issue of trans rights. This is where I’m a little out of my depth, so bear with me. My understanding is that there is a conflict between those who advocate better recognition and accomodation of the trans community on the one hand, and on the other those who oppose such measures on the grounds that they represent an erosion of women’s rights. Cherry very much falls into the latter category, and is seen as a standard bearer of that faction.

Here’s where I attempt to describe things as I see them. Trans people are an extremely vulnerable group that experience a great deal of violence and abuse. Recognising and accommodating them is a simple, necessary step if we are to call ourselves an inclusive and compassionate society. I think the argument has been misrepresented, which has led to an angry and fearful reaction from some feminists, some of whom have themselves suffered abuse and worry that their safe spaces are under attack. It isn't helped by the fact that many of the young, idealistic trans rights activists, while their motives are admirable, are using angry confrontational language (TERF etc) which isn't helpful. It saddens me that these two groups of people, who should be allies, are at each others' throats.

There's no easy answer to the conundrum of how to protect one community without endangering the other, but I think we have to err on the side of inclusion. This might be hopelessly optimistic, but I think if we move forward as a society and show kindness to the trans community, we'll all live in a safer world as a result.

That’s the way I see it anyway. Although I’ve recently left the SNP for unrelated reasons, it pains me to see the party I was a member of for many years so badly divided by this issue. I hope there can be a coming together, if both sides can calm the rhetoric and listen to the others’ concerns. We must move forward, and therefore the direction of travel has to be towards better trans rights, but I hope the other side can be brought on board and see it not as a threatening thing, but something to celebrate.

In that context, I see Cherry’s “sacking” as something that will cause short-term division, but hopefully signals a desire to embrace positive change.

The other thing I want to address is the sentiment I’ve seen among some people that “independence isn’t worth it if it isn’t inclusive enough”, or words to that effect. Having called for cosy consensus in the last paragraph, I have to confess that seeing these sentiments has made me quite angry.

The notion that trans rights, or anyone’s rights, will be better protected or promoted in Brexit Britain than they would be in an independent Scotland is frankly ludicrous. Independence will be a blank page, it will be what we make it. There will be no magic wand, independence won’t automatically fix everything and the real hard work will begin on day one. The destination is up to us, but we know exactly what we’re leaving behind. Rejecting the chance to build a better society because of flaws and imperfections in one political party is about as nonsensical and ridiculous as you can get. It’s utterly, utterly stupid. You might as well refuse to be rescued from a fire because you don’t like the colour of the Fire Engine. If you stick to that notion, we’ll all burn together - and maybe we deserve to.

Sorry - I did say it had made me angry. Breathe Mark, breathe.

So there we are. To sum up, Cherry should go and sit in a darkened room for a while (and maybe I should too) and we should find a way to move forward together towards an independent Scotland where everyone’s rights are respected. Forward and together.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

I Am Not the Virus

When you’re cast as a villain, perhaps the best, easiest thing to do is just embrace the role, practice your best evil laugh and channel your inner Christopher Lee. Though I’m a strange sort of villain - I’m not an anti-vaxxer, a conspiracy theorist or an incessant rule breaker. A Hollywood producer would send the scriptwriter back to the drawing board in derision for writing such a weak antagonist. James Bond isn’t hailed as a hero for foiling the evil plans of a tour guide with a laptop. Doctor Who doesn’t prove his/her mettle by vanquishing a bespectacled history geek who rants about politics.

I suppose it’s only natural, when facing an invisible, microscopic enemy that isn’t tangible, that doesn’t have a face, to project those feelings of fear and horror onto someone or something else. A face that you can safely hate from the comfort of your home as you click “unfriend”, or write an essay about how selfish and awful they are. Well, happy to be of service. I think.

For my part, I’ve been wearing my mask when I go to the shop. I haven’t left my local authority area since being instructed not to. And I’ll get the vaccine as soon as it’s offered. Oh, stop. Is there no end to my villainy?

I almost wish I was the monster they think I am. Single-handedly spreading the virus everywhere while shouting about how the vaccine is Bill Gates’ evil plan to take over the universe. Buying hundreds of toilet roll multi-packs and hoarding them under my floorboards. Dancing a jig on the wrong side of the “Welcome to Musselburgh” sign. Treachery, wickedness and insurrection.

I have no doubt that if I’d simply limited my self-expression to repeating the mantra “Stay home, protect the NHS, save lives”, if I’d dutifully shared the memes about a zombie apocalypse and joined in the “covidiot” shaming, I’d still have my full quota of friends. But that’s not me. That’s never been me. And if you expected that from me, you never knew me in the first place.

I was always going to question, to complain, to rage against the restrictions. Though socially awkward at times, I am a social animal who loves being in the pub with his friends. I’m fiercely independent, I love being able to roam and explore, and I thrive on being able to rant and express my views. I was never going to meekly accept all of this. I was never going to deny who I am. If you wanted or expected me to, then in truth you should probably unfriend me because you’ve never really understood or appreciated me at all.

The biggest killer of men my age hasn’t changed, it’s still the same. But nobody cares any more. It’s been shoved to the side, forgotten about. All we hear about is “Covid, covid, covid”. There’s no room for anything else. Our entire lives now revolve around something that probably won’t kill us, to the exacerbation and neglect of something that very possibly will.

And so we sit, under effective house arrest, as the TV and internet news fills with nothing but scary numbers to justify our incarceration. Meanwhile the economy crashes and burns, and possibly our futures and livelihoods with it. And we’re supposed to be happy about all of this? We’re supposed to meekly accept it, tow the line and not rock the boat? Not me. Never me.

There will always be something. Whether it’s a virus, terrorism or a foreign power. There will always be something to be afraid of, some bogeyman dangled in front of us to justify curtailing our rights and freedoms. When it’s not the virus anymore, it will probably be Putin again. We’ll need more government control of our internet to guard against Russian hackers, or something. That’s not to say the threat isn’t real, but it’s always important to have a debate, to ask questions, to have scrutiny. One of my worries in the current crisis is the lack of any of these things. The normal checks and balances have been suspended, as anyone who strays from accepted narrative is shouted down and villified.

You may hate what I have to say, but somebody has to say it. I fear for our society if someone doesn’t.

So cast me as your villain if you want, if it makes you feel better. That horrible man saying nasty things on the internet. But at the end of the day, I’m not the virus. I’m just me.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

2020 in Pictures

I was wondering how to look back on this bizarre and eventful year and try to make sense of it all. Then it ocurred to me that I’ve taken quite a few photos that have more or less documented the twists and turns, ups and downs and challenges throughout 2020. So by selecting a few and putting them together, perhaps that will help to tell the story. Here goes.

11th January - As the year began, my mind was occupied with political matters as I attended a march for independence in rain-soaked Glasgow with Colin and Alice, and also bumped into Philip from work. That evening, I met my old school friend Richard for some pints in Glasgow. Good times.

31st January - Continuing on the political theme, I joined a demonstration outside the Scottish Parliament against the UK’s formal withrawal from the EU, which Scotland had voted against.

10th February - We were gradually becoming aware of a thing called “coronavirus” which was rumbling away in China. At that time we had no reason to believe it would become a bigger thing than swineflu, birdflu, SARS or any of the other big germ scares that the media had gotten wound up about in the past. Martin “Decades” found a surgical mask from somewhere, and combined it with a bottle of Corona for a bit of fun.

17th March - As cases began to appear in the UK, Boris Johnson “advised” people not to go to the pub. This was our response. This photo caused a lot of aggro from some people, and one of my Facebook posts at the time caused so much drama I was forced to take it down. But I am defiant - by telling people not to go to pubs but allowing them to stay open, the government was putting them in an impossible position where many faced going out of business. I do not regret continuing to support them, and ultimately forcing the government to do the right thing. Those who were judgemental enough to fall out with me over this were, in the words of the song Caledonia, “the friends I needed losing”.

30th March - Furloughed from work, pubs closed and in the middle of moving house. Upheaval and uncertainty everywhere. I took this double rainbow as a symbol of hope.

2nd April - With the country in lockdown, I wandered up to the Old Town for my permitted daily walk. Wandering up the streets I knew so well and normally weaved tales about on an almost daily basis, and seeing them so eerily quiet and deserted, was a strange and emotional experience. It inspired me to write the poem, The Empty Mile, which can be found in an earlier blog.

28th April - Having no work commitments, in fact no commitments of any kind, my body clock inevitably went completely skewed and I found myself wandering the town in the middle of the night and early morning. On this wander I took in the boarded up pubs of the Grassmarket and the shadow of the Castle looming over the Vennel, before climbing Calton Hill to take in the sunrise.

23rd May - With pubs closed, social interactions were limited to online group chats, like this one where we all decided to wear shades.

17th & 24th June - My small hours wanderings continued with a 5am visit to a deserted Portobello beach, and Newhaven at dusk.

6th July - Finally pubs with beer gardens were allowed to re-open. I enjoyed my first draught pint for over 3 months outside Botecco on Bristo Place.

7th July - But I was still waiting forlornly for my usual haunt, the “mother ship” herself, the eternal Banshee Labyrinth to open its doors again.

10th July - Back in uniform for my return to the bus tours. Felt good to finally be back at work. I was relieved to find my uniform still fit, and I was able to remember my tour!

27th August - Then the ghost tours started back up again as well. Obviously some things were different, but life was beginning to feel a little normal again.

11th September - Probably my happiest day of the year. Banshee Labyrinth opened its doors again, and I was the first customer to cross the threshold. A great night was had by all, even spread out at our socially distanced tables. The staff were excellent at making sure everyone was happy and safe. Better table service than most restaurants.

9th October - With cases beginning to rise again, Nicola Sturgeon decided to blame hospitality and ordered pubs to close. Various pubs in Edinburgh emptied their ice buckets outside the Scottish Parliament in protest, and I went along to show support. It was around this time I started to lose faith in the SNP, and eventually I left the party.

31st October - Halloween “Bat’s Blood” cocktail - brandy, wine and lemonade. Usually the ghost tours would give it to customers as an extra treat, but we were unable to this year because of restrictions. So I made my own instead.

12th December - Much excitement on the bus tours as Santa turned up to do some special tours for the kids. Sadly Kerr always seemed to miss him.

29th December - Furloughed from both jobs again, with the country back in lockdown and Edinburgh dusted by the first snow of winter, I stopped during one of my wanders to enjoy a takeaway pint from the Jolly Judge.

So there we are, the year in pictures. After a political start, I raged against the coming storm, then endured the bleak days of lockdown, then enjoyed a summer of hope as things started to get back to normal, but then the darkness returned. I make no predictions about 2021 - I know better than that - but I don’t want to be sitting a year from now trying to make sense of it with old photos. I want to be with my friends in the pub. That’s all I ever wanted - can’t you tell?

Anyway, a very Happy New Year to you when it comes, dear reader.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

It Doesnae Feel at all like Christmas

To the tune of It’s Beginning to Feel a Lot Like Christmas

Well it doesnae feel at all like Christmas

Anywhere you go

None of us really ken, when we'll be in the pub again

With drinks all lined up in a row

No it doesnae feel at all like Christmas

Life is such a bore

There's no good news to see, just covid on TV

And parcels at your door

Better pop along to Boots if you give two hoots

And buy a mask or ten

Watch a zoom talk then go for a walk

Social distanced from your fellow men

And tomorrow do the same all over again

No it doesnae feel at all like Christmas

Anywhere you go

There's lights on the Balmoral Hotel, and a tree on the Mound as well

Almost as though we don't all know

That it doesnae feel at all like Christmas

More like an old stale fart

And that's all that I can bring, I have no joy to sing

We're all so far apart

No it doesnae feel at all like Christmas

Life is such a bore

There's no good news to see, just covid on TV

And parcels at your door

Until the virus is no more

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

The Crown

You know me, I’m not a monarchist or a Royal-watcher. I view the Royals with a healthy dose of cynical apathy. I’m not necessarily in favour of getting rid of them, but I’m not necessarily completely against it. I’d have to be persuaded of the alternative - who would be our head of state, how would it be decided, how would our constitution be arranged going forward? Only when these questions are satisfactorily answered would I consider voting in favour of a Republican agenda. But I wouldn’t rule it out.

So I’m perhaps not someone you’d expect to be glued to Netflix’s glossy high-profile drama series, The Crown. But there I was, enthusing about the trailers for season 4, keeping an eye on the release date, and binge-watching it over a couple of evenings. For all the world like one of the muppets you see in the crowd at any Royal appearance, minus the union flag and the shrieking sycophancy.

When I first became vaguely aware of the series shortly after the release of season 1, I wasn’t much interested. I assumed it would be an exercise in jingoistic hero-worship, porn for Pimm’s drinkers. I turned my cynical, lefty nationalist nose up at it. Not for me, yer maj.

But then I saw a clip on YouTube with Winston Churchill, played by John Lithgow, making a scene at the wedding of the then-Princess Elizabeth and Philip Mountbatten, i.e. the future Queen and Prince Philip. It piqued my interest sufficiently to watch a few more clips, then eventually to commit to actually watching the series.

The fact that an actor of Lithgow’s status had been lured, and was featuring so prominently, was a good sign. The role of the Queen’s first Prime Minister was not going to be a bit-part or a cameo. A lot of focus was clearly going to be on constitutional politics, and the social context in which the Queen’s early reign took place.

This was indeed the case, as we saw a young monarch, played superbly by Claire Foy, navigating her first steps with the help of a wily and experienced, but elderly and often truculent Churchill in his second period in office. She is beginning her reign just as he is approaching the end of his, and we see the dynamic change between them as she goes from relying on the wisdom of a grandfatherly mentor, to putting up with a silly old duffer who can’t accept his time is up. The story of season 1, aside from all the personal stuff between Elizabeth and Philip, is that transfer of energy as Elizabeth grows and Churchill recedes.

There’s also a lot of effort put into establishing background. Clothes, vehicles, aircraft, music, news articles... It’s all very 50s. For people who remember the decade, it’s probably very nostalgic. For the rest of us, it’s educational on the fringes. It gives us a good feel for the times.

Seasons 2 and 3 are also very strong in these departments, taking us through the political turmoils and social changes of the 60s and into the 70s. The cast change between seasons 2 and 3, when Olivia Colman replaces Claire Foy as the Queen, and a host of other older actors step in, is done as smoothly as was probably possible. You soon get used to the new faces, and any bumps in continuity are barely noticeable.

Special mention should go to the episode handling the Aberfan disaster in season 3. It’s powerful, moving television and I’d encourage anyone to watch it, regardless of whether they’ve seen the rest of the series. It stands alone as a poignant comment on the tragedy. The actor Jason Watkins gives a brilliant performance as Harold Wilson throughout season 3, and in the Aberfan episode in particular. Wilson’s exit in the last episode of the season, when he resigns because of deteriorating mental health, is another touching human moment.

You’ll notice I’m focussing more on the social-political events rather than the lives of the Royals, and of course that reflects my own interest. The personal and family dramas of the Royals play out alongside the bigger events, and indeed sometimes take up full episodes. But the makers of The Crown are very clever at including something for everyone. Royal worshippers and history/political geeks alike will be satisfied, and willing to put up with the “filler” to get to the good stuff.

Season 4 was built up to be the biggest yet, and the publicity was turned up to the max. We were given tantalising glimpses of Gillian Anderson as the devil Thatcher, and a young Diana played by Emma Corrin. For people of my generation, the show is finally dealing with events that took place during my lifetime, albeit that I was too young to care at the time.

Having watched season 4, I can report that it did not disappoint. Gillian Anderson was... spooky. She nailed the devil Thatcher’s rigidness, toughness and inability to compromise. The callous insistance that her policies were for the greater good, even in the face of immense opposition and human suffering, her social awkwardness at Balmoral, her bitterness and disbelief when her cabinet finally ousted her - all beautifully portrayed.

But even Anderson was eclipsed by the true star of this season. Even though I was more interested in the political stuff and usually don’t care much for the personal drama, Emma Corrin’s vulnerable, endearing and captivating performance as Diana completely stole the show. Even cynical old me was utterly swept up in the Shakespearian drama of a naive young lady who thinks she’s marrying a handsome prince from a fairytale, only to find very quickly that she’s become a prisoner in a loveless marriage, and is doomed to forever play second fiddle to her husband’s mistress. The joy turning to ashes. The fragile hope of youth giving way to bitter frustration and disappointment. Emma Corrin plays an absolute blinder.

There’s been a lot of discussion about “accuracy” in the press, to which the actors and production team have rightly responded that the show is a work of fiction, albeit heavily inspired by real events. Since a lot of the “accuracy” they’re discussing is to do with details of the Royals’ personal lives, most of it is hearsay anyway. And I don’t care.

I see the show not so much as a drama about the Royals, but more a social commentary on the last half century - told through the eyes of one posh family.

So if you haven’t watched any of it yet, I recommend you get stuck in. One won’t regret it.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Breaking Point

This has been a strange and difficult year for everyone. I don’t need to go into detail about the strains of lockdown and the challenges of facing a global pandemic. We’re all familiar with them. One thing I can’t stand is when people talk about the “new normal” - this isn’t normal, and I’ll never accept it as normal. I take the virus seriously, don't mind wearing a mask in shops and don't suscribe to any of the great conspiracy theories flying around.

But I'm also appalled by the attitude of many folk who seem to have appointed themselves covid policemen, and go around lecturing others and informing on their neighbours. There's a low-level social fascism developing that I find extremely distasteful. Sadly many of my (possibly former) friends fall into this category and whenever I've spoken my mind on social media I've had people jumping down my throat with moralistic indignation. Some have even unfriended me, which is fine - sometimes you can't see the trash in plain sight, so it's handy when it takes itself out.

I work in the tourism industry, which has obviously been hit badly during this crisis and which the new restrictions will damage even further - hospitality and tourism are linked, because who wants to go on holiday somewhere they can't go to a restaurant or pub? I also care deeply about local pubs, not just because I like to drink in them, but because as a tour guide I understand the historical significance many of them have, and the role they've always played in the community. I also have many friends who work in hospitality, and are fearing for their jobs.

In most pubs I've visited, great care has been taken to adhere to guidelines and keep customers safe. I've been very impressed with the professionalism and thoroughness of the staff, who've managed the balance of making customers feel welcome and happy, but also making sure the rules are followed. I've felt safer in many pubs than I have in busy shops or crowded streets.

What has happened is two things: inevitably a tiny minority have let the side down, and either not bothered or allowed things to get out of hand, which perpetuates the second thing: the stigma that many attach to pubs, and the impression they have of what's been going on. It's noticeable that most of the people calling for pubs to stay closed haven't actually set foot in one for months, so haven't actually seen the great care that most are taking.

As a supporter of independence and the SNP, I follow many Yes themed pages on social media. Over the last few days, I've made comments defending the hospitality industry and expressing my opinion that the new restrictions are excessive. The responses my comments received were derisory, insulting and hysterical. Sadly as far as many of my so-called comrades are concerned, I'm a heartless alcoholic granny killer.

I'm now completely disillusioned and don't know where to turn. I'm not a unionist, I'll never disavow my support for independence and much as I disagree with the Scottish Government's approach, it is nothing compared to my distrust and disgust at Westminster. But I'm also questioning my place in a movement that treats one of their own in that way, and a party that so readily throws an entire industry under a bus. I feel completely caught in the middle, and I have a lot of thinking to do about how to express myself, and who deserves my loyalty and support going forward.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

The Hypocrite

Dazzled by your own perfection,

As you lecture others about self-reflection,

The self-appointed arbiter of others’ speech,

Drawing indignation like a blood-sucking leech.

Careful you don’t fall from your righteous tower,

Offended by a passing glower,

So sensitive, and always right,

Easily bruised yet eager to fight.

There’s far worse than me out there,

Brutal folk that really don’t care,

Yet you choose to take issue with my choice of words,

As if you only produce odourless turds.

Nobody’s perfect, but those who mean well,

Should stick together as we face down hell,

But you want us all to be your clones,

Those who speak differently offend your bones.

When you meet a real baddie, how will you cope?

When you’ve rejected all those with imperfect hope.

After you’ve driven off all your flawed friends,

How will you survive to achieve your ends?

You turn would-be allies into reluctant foes,

Because only your version of the world goes,

You’re too busy looking for ways to object,

To see the value of those you reject.

How can you really expect to win,

When you walk around with a skin so thin?

It’s a big bad world, we need to be tough,

You can’t run and hide when the going gets rough.

So listen, just once, to one who says,

That self-reflection works both ways.

You bloody hypocrite.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Statues

As a friend of mine commented recently, statues are strange things. It's a funny idea, making an effigy of someone out of metal or stone, sticking it on a plinth on a street corner and leaving it to gather pigeon poo. I think it probably goes all the way back to when people made idols of their gods in ancient times.

Another way of looking at it, is that sculpting is an art form like any other. Making a statue of someone involves as much hard work, dedication and skill as painting a portrait or taking a professional photograph. Statues are sometimes as much about their sculptors as they are their subjects.

So perhaps decorating our streets with statues is no different from decorating our homes with paintings or posters. We choose subjects and/or artists that we like, and that we think will fit in with their surroundings.

So as tastes and sensibilities change, you may decide to take a painting down and hang another in its place. From that perspective, it's perfectly reasonable to assert that statues of people who benefitted from slavery or argued against its abolition do not belong on the streets of a tolerant and modern society.

But then, sometimes paintings can be treasured family heirlooms irrespective of what they actually depict. A painting whose subject has lost all meaning or relevance, but once hung in your grandparents' house and therefore triggers fond memories, may still take pride of place on your wall. Edinburgh residents who grew up in the shadow of Henry Dundas but never spared a thought for who he was, may object to his removal from the skyline for no other reason.

And sometimes statues have stories of their own. Charles II is often hailed as the "party king", but in Scotland his reign was marked by the "killing times", where Covenanters were hunted down and executed without trial. But his statue in Parliament Square is the oldest equestrian (horsey) statue in the UK, and its hollow construction meant that it often filled with water when it rained. Eventually the water found an exit point which was "anatomically correct". The holes have long since been plugged to stop this happening, but it's a wonderful story.

So should we tear down the statue of Charles II to show our disapproval of his treatment of religious dissenters, and in doing so lose this wonderful little story and piece of history? I would argue no.

So the question is, where do we stop? Where is the fault line between removing statues that are no longer deemed appropriate for our times, and preserving bits of heritage and links to our past?

If we only allowed statues of people who were perfect, there would be no statues at all (well, apart from animals like Greyfriars’ Bobby and Wojtek the bear). Historical figures were rarely two-dimensional, wholly good or wholly evil. Legacies and personalities are usually mixed.

I’ve seen people argue that “nobody learns history from a statue”, but that’s not quite true. Tour guides use statues as visual cues and links all the time. So from a selfish point of view, I’d be reluctant to lose all the statues of evil rogues, because evil rogues are interesting to talk about. In a way, we’ve made a rod for our own backs - by reminding people and helping them to understand who they’re looking at, we’ve made it more likely those statues will be torn down.

When you take a painting off your wall for whatever reason, it would be a bit extreme to throw it into the nearest body of water. Most reasonable people would simply put it away in a cupboard somewhere or drop it into a charity shop. If you thought it was worth a few bob, you might try to sell it to a dealer or at auction.

So what do we do with the statues we’ve taken down? I’m going to channel my inner Indiana Jones and say “they belong in a museum!”. Somewhere where their story and their legacy can still be discussed, along with the social changes that led to their removal from the street. Because that’s a story in itself - the toppling of statues is every bit as historically significant as their erection (careful now). Like statues of Lenin after the fall of the USSR, or the statue of Saddam Hussein after the fall of Baghdad.

So I think it’s possible to find a solution that deals both with the removal of these figures from their seemingly deified positions on prominent plinths, but still ensures the history they represent is preserved (along with the work of the poor sculptors, who were just trying to earn a living).

And please, leave something for long-suffering tour guides to talk about, eh?

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

National Trust for Neil Oliver

When I first became aware of Neil Oliver, he was presenting the very well made History of Scotland series - episodes of which I still watch from time to time. He is, it can't denied, a gifted storyteller and a natural in front of the camera. His style may be comically vain, as he walks through long grass and gazes into the middle distance, but he knows how to keep an audience captivated.

Some have pointed out that he is an archeologist rather than a historian, but I don't think that matters terribly much. I know quite a few of both persuasions, and they obviously have very similar passions and overlapping expertise.

He did a great service to Scotland with his TV series, and beautifully narrated many key events of national consciousness, when Scotland stood up for itself and prevailed against the odds, as well as events of  shocking injustice and brutality when Scotland was roughly treated, marginalised and impoverished.

It was therefore greatly surprising to me when I learned of Oliver's political views.

It was not the unionism itself - that is a perfectly valid position, of course. And people have a right to express their political views, though the higher profile they have, the more responsibility they have to do so respectfully and thoughtfully. Whenever Oliver addresses Scotland's constitutional debate however, he does so in a sneering and goading manner. He seems to go out of his way to rubbish and insult the 45%+ who believe that Scotland's best interests are no longer served by a treaty procured by high-level bribery and greeted by riots in 1707.

Does he never stop and ask himself, if he was presenting a documentary in a few hundred years' time, what would he be saying about current events? We are living through a momentous period when the question of national sovereignty and identity is fluid and in flux like in almost no time in modern history. Scots can no longer be Scottish, British and European - at least one of the three has to go. However this seismic three-way tug-of-war is resolved, the story of how it happened will be a fascinating one for future historians - devolution, the rise of the SNP, the 2014 referendum, Brexit - the twists and turns are almost designed for a future storyteller to get their teeth into.

You would think, in his position, Neil Oliver would have more to offer than puerile insults and barbs. Perhaps the archeologist v historian thing holds some water after all - a historian would surely appreciate the momentous nature of these times, and be able to identify the trends and undercurrents driving the events we're living through.

For comparison, look to Professor Tom Devine. I'm not saying that just because he's on my side of the independence debate - when he gives his reasons, they are thoughtful and intelligent, and rooted in the trends he's observed over the last few decades. He talks about Thatcherism and the destruction of Scotland's industrial base, and the growing sense of confidence and national identity that has come with devolution. It is a historian's answer.

It was concerning, though not surprising, when Neil Oliver was made President of the National Trust for Scotland. Again, not because of his political views per se, but how he has chosen to express them. An organisation that looks after many of Scotland's treasures on behalf of its people, shouldn't have as its figurehead a man who goes out of his way to insult half of those people at every opportunity.

I say it is not surprising because I have had doubts about the NTS for some time. In Edinburgh, I've observed the contrast in how they've managed their two city centre properties, Gladstone's Land and the Georgian House Museum. While the Georgian House is treated very much as the jewel in the crown, Gladstone's Land has had its upper stories turned into luxury apartments while its ground floor is being turned into an ice cream shop. There's also been a noticeable difference in opening hours in the past. It seems there's a bit of a "New Town bias" in this organisation mainly run by upper-class benefactors.

I should mention, for the sake of balance, that when I raised these concerns in a Facebook comment a while ago, one of their managers contradicted me and said they were investing a great deal in Gladstone's Land. I said I would be delighted to be proved wrong. But I'm not holding my breath.

More recently, we learned they're making hundreds of staff redundant, using coronavirus as an excuse - even though they're surely eligible for the government's furloughed worker scheme.

It makes me nervous that so many of our historically valuable sites are in the hands of this organisation. I've said for a while that it should be merged with Historic Environment Scotland, allowing the Scottish Government to take the reins, regulate and provide funding where necessary.

Both Neil Oliver and the National Trust for Scotland leave me feeling depressed and disappointed. Both were national treasures once, and still have the potential to be if they get their act together. Both have failed in their missions, let down the Scottish people but most of all let down themselves.

Scotland can do better, and so can they.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

I don't need a shrink,

I just need a drink.

I don't need a car,

I just need a bar.

I don't need wealth,

Just to drink to your health.

Give me a wee flat,

I don't need more than that,

If I can be a regular in a good place,

Somewhere they know my face.

Keep your mortgage and your store card,

All those things for which you work hard,

All I need is somewhere to hide,

With trusted friends in whom I confide.

A fine thing indeed, to belong to a pub,

A safe haven, a special club,

Where after work, before you go home,

You can relax and unwind with folk of your own.

All the trappings of modern life,

A semi-detached, kids and a wife,

They're not for me, a creature of night,

They'd weigh me down, subdue my light.

Some shake their heads, tut and judge,

Before they return to their daily drudge.

They look down their noses at me,

Because they've forgotten how to be free.

They don't know that special place,

Where I go to escape the rat race,

They don't know why I choose to opt out,

They think I have a problem, I don't doubt.

But my addiction is not what they think,

It's not the chemical substance of drink,

Instead it's the chance to be who I want,

In the glory of my usual haunt.

Maybe one day when you're bored at home,

Wishing you were more than a drone,

You'll think of me, your night dwelling friend,

Your heart will with envy rend.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Old Town Taverns

Banshee Labyrinth, open ‘til three,

Where so often is where you’ll find me,

With the usual suspects in our usual place,

Served our drinks by a friendly face.

The Waverley Bar is charming and old,

Where Billy Connolly’s first jokes were told,

Drink a beer and munch on a pie,

As you reminisce about days gone by.

The Bow Bar has an impressive array,

Choosing your poison could take all day,

Ales and whiskies and more besides,

Victoria Street is where it resides.

Watch yourself in the White Hart Inn,

Burke & Hare chose their victims therein.

Rabbie Burns also drank there,

But you could say that about anywhere.

Maggie Dickson survived the noose,

Now you can sip a beer or a juice,

Sitting in the pub which bears her name,

Looking out on the site where she gained her fame.

Ensign Ewart was a soldier so brave,

On the esplanade, you’ll find his grave,

In the castle is the Eagle he took,

And the pub named after him is worth a look.

Deacon Brodie lived a double life,

Kept two mistresses as well as a wife,

Stole from the rich, inspired Jekyll & Hyde,

Go in for a pint when the door’s open wide.

The Jolly Judge is down some stairs,

Where you can go to forget your cares,

Old wooden roof beams and a roaring fire,

And all the atmosphere you could desire.

Go see a gig in Bannerman’s Bar,

And when they close, Banshee isn’t too far,

In the toilet you can watch yourself pee,

Just look up, the mirrored ceiling you’ll see.

At the World’s End, have a drink with your mate,

Next to the site of the old city gate,

Also well known for an infamous crime,

But I have to say, the food is sublime.

There are many more places, old and new,

Where you can enjoy a drink or two,

I’ve chosen the ones I know and can rhyme,

But check out the others when you have the time.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

The Empty Mile

Cobbles and stones that have echoed for years,

Now rendered silent as folk hide from their fears,

Taverns and restaurants and tartan tat shops,

Ordered to close by government and cops.

An ancient thoroughfare with many stories to tell,

Ignored for now, for sanitiser gel.

Its buildings and closes are left to the ghosts,

Its workers at home, instead of their posts.

For such an old place, this is just the blink of an eye,

Another story to tell, when this has all gone by.

To this immortal street, it must hardly matter,

This brief sabbatical, this pause in the chatter.

But to the lonely wanderer, with camera ready,

The effect is eerie, the atmosphere heady.

The empty close and the boarded up pub,

The shadowy spires of the Tron and the Hub.

The Mile is empty, the esplanade clear,

No Festival or Tattoo this year.

I never thought I’d actually miss the crowd,

But their awe-struck expressions made me ever so proud.

I know my city will return to its best,

This is just an episode, a passing test.

One day, sooner than we think,

We’ll be able to mingle, gossip and drink.

Until then, sleep well ancient city,

And ignore us mere mortals with our foolish self pity,

For you are old and unchanging, majestic and grand,

The capital of our hearts, as well as our land.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

The Furloughed Tour Guide

It seems so long ago, though it’s been barely two weeks,

He was among his fellow enthusiasts, weirdos and geeks,

A special group of people, with knowledge to teach,

Tell stories and jokes, unique to each.

His city was busy with tourists and guests,

Most were lovely people, others were pests,

But it was his privilege to entertain and regale,

With fact and quip, snippet and tale.

Now his city is reduced to four walls,

Where silence reigns and dust falls,

His stories of murder, ghosts and doom,

Feel so redundant in his living room.

He’s still allowed out for the occasional walk,

But strictly by himself, with no-one to talk,

The streets are silent and hardly a soul to be seen,

Where once thronged with people, bustling and keen.

It was once a novelty to talk of the plague,

Now those stories seem hollow and vague,

Who thought living through history would be so dull,

Waiting for a virus to finish its cull.

He wishes he could hybernate, or fast forward to the day

That he’ll be back in action, stalking into the fray,

With voice booming and eyes gleaming,

When his life has rediscovered its meaning.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Who are we?

What is it that makes a nation? Why do people living on one side of a man-made line feel different from people living on the other side?

As a storyteller, my answer is quite simple: a nation is a shared story. Just as individuals have different personal stories and journeys, groups of people living in particular parts of the world have their own collective stories too.

Just like any story, new characters can be introduced at any time. People who were born elsewhere but choose to live and work here, have chosen to be part of our story.

If you want to understand a nation, you have to understand its story. So what does Scotland’s story tell us about our own nation, and the challenges facing the country at this time?

In the late 13th Century, Scotland found itself being ruled by John Balliol, a weak man chosen by Edward I of England, who had been asked to resolve a succession crisis by picking a candidate for the Scottish throne. Balliol was a puppet who Edward could easily control. But when Edward demanded that Balliol raise taxes in Scotland to pay for England’s war with France, he’d gone too far.

Scotland had no quarrel with France, and no desire to go to war with an important trading partner. Edward was attempting to lead Scotland down a road it didn’t want, and put up barriers between us and our continental partners. Scotland’s nobles and clergy, led by the charismatic Bishop Robert Wishart, stood up to Balliol and forced him to refuse Edward’s demands.

A furious Edward diverted his war machine against Scotland instead. The Scottish Wars of Independence had begun. Scotland faced many years of bloodshed and suffering, but would eventually triumph at the Battle of Bannockburn under the leadership of Robert the Bruce. It is the greatest and most celebrated episode in Scotland’s story.

In 1503, James IV was celebrating his marriage to English princess Margaret Tudor. It looked as though centuries of conflict were over as Scotland and England settled down and enjoyed a new era of peace. But a decade later, Henry VIII of England chose to go to war with France.

France called on Scotland for help, under the terms of the long-standing Auld Alliance - a pact between Scotland and France dating back to the Wars of Independence.

James faced an agonising choice between peace with England, or his obligations to his European allies. If he had chosen to break Scotland’s pact with France, and then France was defeated, there would be nothing stopping the English from turning on Scotland - with no allies left to help the Scots. James chose to honour his European commitments.

He would pay with his life. The war that followed led to the Battle of Flodden, which was a disastrous defeat for the Scots. James IV himself, most of Scotland’s leading nobles and many thousands of men were killed.

Scotland paid a terrible price, but our honour and our reputation as a European nation that stood up for its friends was intact.

Our story is one of friendship with Europe, and a willingness to stand up for those relationships despite the machinations of our southern neighbours, whatever the cost.

Fast forward to today, and another would-be overlord in London is attempting to split Scotland off from our friends and allies on the continent, and lead us down a path which we have rejected.

If we understand our story and our identity as a nation, our path now has never been clearer. With Nicola Sturgeon’s announcement today that the Scottish Government will aim for another independence referendum before 2021, we have taken the first steps down that path.

It is time for us to stand up and remind the world who we are.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Mary Queen of Scots

This isn’t a review as such, it’s been a couple of weeks since I saw the film and I don’t have the knowledge and passion about Mary Queen of Scots to write as detailed a piece as I did for Outlaw King. But I thought I’d hammer out a few general thoughts.

The thing everyone remembers about Mary is her death – even if you don’t know anything else about her, you’ll know that she was beheaded. That’s the earliest thing I can remember knowing, long before I studied history at school. So it’s an odd sort of story – everyone already knows the ending, and the task of the storyteller is to explain how we get there.

The film follows this pattern – in the trailers we hear Saoirse Ronan, the actress who plays Mary, repeatedly asking “how did it come to this?” And the film itself starts with her walking to the executioner’s block, before rewinding to tell the story.

The filmmakers choose to begin that story with her return to Scotland in 1561 – a logical place to start. But if we imagine her eventual fate as a jigsaw puzzle coming together, a lot of the pieces were already connected even then.

She had the misfortune to be born female, and have her father die when she was only six days old. An infant queen in an era of aggressive male monarchs – not least Henry VIII of England, who demanded she be betrothed to his son, Prince Edward. This was a naked attempt to absorb Scotland through marriage – national sovereignty would be the dowry.

When the Scots refused to surrender their young queen, Henry invaded Scotland in a campaign known as the “Rough Wooing” - a strange sort of name for a murderous rampage.  Terrible damage was done to Edinburgh and southern Scotland as the English sought both to punish the Scots and to force their submission to Henry’s will.

Scotland was no longer safe for Mary. In 1548, at the age of six, Mary was sent to France to be betrothed to the heir to the French throne.

So right from the start, Mary’s life was one of turmoil and upheaval. Fate was dealing her a cruel hand. Ironically, one of the cruellest cards in that hand was Mary’s rising importance.

Elizabeth I became Queen of England in 1558. She was the daughter of Anne Boleyn, who Henry VIII had broken with the Catholic Church in order to marry. As a result, she was considered illegitimate by Catholics throughout Europe. Meanwhile, Mary had a solid claim to the English throne because her grandfather James IV had married an English princess.

So Mary was now Queen of Scots, Queen Consort of France and, in the eyes of many, the rightful Queen of England. Dynastic dynamite.

Cruel fate struck again with two explosive events in 1560 – the Scottish Reformation, and the premature death of Mary’s husband, the young king of France. Mary was now a widow with no role at the French court, and faced the prospect of returning to a country that had just rejected her religion.

This is the Mary we meet in 1561 – a young lady whose name and connections give her claim, in theory, to immense power and authority. But also a young lady whose life has been chaotic and tragic even to this early point, who has been buffeted on the cruel tides of history and is suffering the second great upheaval and leap into the unknown of her short life.

The task she faces is daunting – to deal with a fractious pack of ambitious and aggressive nobles who are used to jostling and sparring for position in the absence of a monarch, and a church that is fanatically opposed to the faith she’s known all her life. And somehow, to rule Scotland while also furthering her own ambitions towards the English crown.

In a sense, this is the first time Mary has an opportunity to chart her own course. She can now make decisions for herself, but the odds are against her and the stakes incredibly high. A tall order indeed for an eighteen year-old.

Mary could have chosen to convert to Presbyterianism. It would have been the most sensible and pragmatic thing to do. But to do so would be to deny her whole understanding of the world and who she was. It’s not surprising, given the sudden plunge into the unknown, that she chose to cling to what little she could of the life she knew before.

But she also reassured the Scottish nobles and clergy that she would make no attempt to interfere with the Scottish church – she would keep her own faith in private, but her subjects could worship how they so chose. This is quite a modern and progressive attitude towards religion, and quite unusual for the 16th Century. To modern eyes, it should have been enough. But alas, the world she lived in was too suspicious and intolerant to let that stand.

John Knox, played in the film very well by David Tennant, raged against her from the pulpit. The tension was being steadily ratcheted up from the moment she stepped back onto Scottish soil.

One of the strange things about the film is its portrayal of Holyrood Palace. Mary is seen arriving at what looks more like a remote windswept castle, and holding court in a hall which has been partly carved out of a cliff. In reality, Holyrood would be recognisable to those who know it today – essentially half of what’s there now, an L-shape with one of its distinctive double towers – the other was added for symmetry in the 17th century.

Throughout the film, Scotland is depicted as rugged and remote. I have mixed feelings about this – it shows off Scotland’s breathtaking natural beauty very well, but it’s also a misrepresentation of what was an advanced and civilised European country of the day.

Now that Mary can make her own choices, she can also make her own mistakes – from now on the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle will be placed by her own hand.

First, she marries Lord Darnley. She appears to have genuinely loved him at first, but she very quickly regrets her choice. Darnley is a vain and arrogant young man who drinks heavily and is very unpopular with the Scottish lords.

Nevertheless, Darnley also has a claim to the English throne so Mary is strengthening her own ambitions in that direction. One of her faults was that she was constantly looking south, rather than over her own shoulder.

She and Darnley conceive an heir – something Elizabeth will never do. But one of the great ironies of Mary’s life is that each victory only ratchets up the tension and the danger even more. It’s another step towards the executioner’s block.

One source of tension was David Rizzio – Mary’s personal secretary, a handsome young Italian she’d brought with her from the French court. The two were very close and would spend a great deal of time together. Many modern historians reckon Rizzio might have been gay, but the “gay best friend” relationship was not one that was well understood at the time. Many of the Scottish nobles, including Darnley, suspected they were having an affair.

The reasons for Rizzio’s murder are portrayed slightly differently in the film, but the brutal deed itself did happen more or less as depicted. Darnley and several other lords burst into Mary’s chambers, dragged Rizzio away from Mary and stabbed him a reported 52 times.

Mary retreated to the safety of Edinburgh Castle, where she gave birth to her son – the future James VI of Scotland and I of England.

The next major event in Mary’s life is an ongoing point of controversy to this day. In February 1567, her estranged husband Lord Darnley was lying ill in bed at Kirk o’ Field, on the site where Old College is today. In the middle of the night, the house was rocked by a massive explosion. Darnley actually survived the blast and staggered outside, but there were assassins lying in wait. His strangled body was discovered outside the smoking ruins. This is portrayed accurately in the film.

The question is, how much did Mary know? What was the extent of her involvement in the murder? It’s almost certain that the Earl of Bothwell was the leading conspirator - but was he acting on Mary’s orders, or with her consent or knowledge? Historians argue at length about this.

The dramatic nature of the murder makes it clear someone was making a statement. With Darnley ill in bed, the simplest thing to do would be to poison him and say he’d succumbed to his illness. But to use gunpowder – that’s the tool of someone who wants to demonstrate his power and send a warning to his enemies. From what we know about Bothwell, it fits the bill.

Personally, I think it may have been a “who will rid me of this troublesome priest” moment. Mary may have expressed a wish that Darnley was dead, and Bothwell took that as his green light.

What Mary does next is probably her worst ever mistake – she marries Bothwell. Some accounts say she was abducted and/or raped by him, but all we know for certain is that she ended up marrying the man widely suspected of  her late husband’s murder.

This was too much for Scotland’s nobles, who rose up and deposed her. The rising of the nobles and deposing of Mary are kind of fudged in the film, and her imprisonment in Loch Leven Castle is not shown - which is a shame.

Mary escaped and fled to England, hoping to enlist the support of Elizabeth. This is another massive gamble – Mary has spent her whole life talking up her claim to Elizabeth’s throne. She is throwing herself on the mercy of a woman whose crown she has always wanted.

What happens next in the film is something that has had chins wagging ever since the trailers were released – a face-to-face meeting between Mary and Elizabeth, which definitely never happened.

After all the anticipation, it feels like a bit of an anti-climax. But I did find one thing Elizabeth says very interesting – she says “I see now that your strengths have been your downfall”. I think this rings true. Mary was by all accounts more beautiful and more charismatic than Elizabeth. She married and produced an heir, which Elizabeth never did. Yet Mary ended up deposed and at Elizabeth’s mercy. The two monarchs are polar opposites of each other.

The next part of the story is the one we’re all familiar with. Kept a prisoner for nineteen years in England, Mary is sent a letter from an English Catholic called Babington informing her of a plot to assassinate Elizabeth and put Mary on the throne. What human being, after all those years in captivity, would pass up a chance to kill their captor and achieve their life’s ambition? Of course Mary gave her consent.

But her mail was being intercepted and read by Elizabeth’s spies. Mary has put the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle in place. Her fate is sealed.

The actual execution is not shown, and I suppose it would be out of step with the feel of the film. It was a botched beheading – it took three blows of the axe to sever her head. When the executioner held her head up, it was discovered she was wearing a wig and the head fell out and rolled away. More like Game of Thrones than a Hollywood romance.

The one-time Queen of Scots, Queen Consort of France and asserted Queen of England, who if the cards had fallen slightly differently could have ruled half of Northern Europe, gruesomely butchered to death in the final cruel twist of fate of her tragic life.

So was Mary a feminist hero, a strong woman in a time dominated by men? A helpless victim who was dealt a cruel hand and was ultimately doomed by forces beyond her control? A scheming and ambitious monarch who murdered her husband? Or a foolish young lady whose decisions were her own undoing?

All of the above.