Scotland, 'Greater Britain', and the kailyardic contra(-)diction.
This article seeks to discuss the bonds between Scotland and the loose Anglophone union of an imperial 'Greater Britain' during the later-nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Through an analysis of the manifestation of Scottish Lowland language and literary devices termed the kailyardic contra(-)diction, this investigation asserts the interconnections between Scotland, the British empire, and the 'Anglo-world'. From the mid-nineteenth century, certain linguistic tropes served to favourably distinguish Scots within the bounds of a global 'Greater Britain' whilst simultaneously aligning notions of Scottish cultural exceptionalism with assumptions of the social and 'racial' prestige of an overarching British imperialism.
In May 1904 the New Zealand newspaper the Otago Witness printed the comically-intended tale of the 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German'. (1) Within the brief, apocryphal anecdote a 'particularly sharp-looking tramp' of unspecified nationality spies a 'Scottish fancy name on the pillar post of a suburban villa'. Peering through the window of the stately residence and noticing a 'big, fair-bearded man wearing a Tam-o-Shanter', the wily tramp resolves to try his luck. '"A Scottie for a pension!"' he exclaims, '"I must assume the kailyard brogue!"'
Striding up to the grand house and ringing the doorbell, the tramp is coolly received by 'the big beard and Tam-o-shanter'. Undeterred, the tramp addresses the resident of the villa, reeling off an impressive and seemingly rote-learned screed of Scottified language by way of an introduction:
'How's a' wi' ye, mon, the day? [.. ] Ah'm doon on ma luck, laddie, an' makin' for Glesca, mai ain toon. Ah ken richt weel a brither Scot like yersel' winna see a kintramon in sic sair necessity wi'oot haudin' oot a helpin' haund.'
Evidently, the tramp's panoply of 'the kailyard brogue'--akin to a humorously excessive use of Lowland Scots language--is anticipated as an easy means of gaining the favour and support of an envisioned 'brither Scot'.
However, the crafty tramp is confounded by the alternately accented response of his bearded, would-be benefactor:
'Mine vriendt [...] I oondershtand nod yer Ghineze. I was Cherman and spik only der language off mine own gountry und der Angleesh. I dink you petter ask a boliceman where der Ghineze Gouncil lif, und b'raps he zend you back to your own gountry free off charge.'
Apparently undone, the tramp skulks off, muttering--his own language now subtly displaying the hinted characteristics of a slight Cockney inflection: '"A bloomin' Faderland after all! Wot a fair old take!"' The resident of the villa is left victorious on his doorstep, delivering the predictable comic twist after the tramp has scuttled away, safely out of earshot:
'Na, na, ma laddie!' chuckled the man in the Tam-o-shanter to himself. 'Ye dinna tak' me in wi' yer braid Scots. Ye're nae mair Scots than Ah'm German.'
The story of the 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German' appears to have resonated with an antipodean readership, and following its publication in the Otago Witness the article was printed in a number of Australian newspapers in Victoria and New South Wales over the autumn and winter months of 1904. (2) Central to the supposed humour of the anecdote is the fairly complex intermixture of cultural and 'ethnic' elements which, when coupled with the tale's Otago origin and later publication in Australia, is suggestive of the story being set within the dominions of the British Empire. The tramp supposes his 'fair-bearded', bonnet-wearing mark to be 'a Scottie', but ultimately accepts the pretence of his being a 'bloomin' Faderland', a conclusion which plays upon the well-established trope of the comparable overseas success of both Germans and Scots, famously lauded by Charles Dilke in 1868 as 'the best of immigrants'.' Moreover, the Scottish occupant of the 'villa'--itself a somewhat exotic indication of a colonial setting rather ridiculously misidentifies the Scots-sounding tramp as Chinese; a supposition rendered slightly more credible and, indeed, darkly relevant within an assumed antipodean context, perhaps intended for the Anglophone readership of the British dominions with a long and fraught history of prejudice against East Asian migrants. (4) The 'Canny Scot's' brusque dismissal of the 'Ghineze' tramp acquires a decidedly more sinister hue when considered alongside the well-documented discriminatory policies of 'white' Australia and New Zealand following the prolonged spasms of 'Yellow Peril' which swept the British Empire during late nineteenth century. (5)
In a conspicuous contrast, the enviable prosperity of the 'big, fair-bearded' villa resident with the 'Scottish fancy name' lies at the heart of the story. In comparison to the skulduggery of the sleekit tramp, the stereotypically Scottish characteristics of thrift, shrewdness and 'clannishness' are presented as favourable, eminently desirable qualities within a colonial context. The quick-witted 'Canny Scot' emerges triumphant, and is apparently commendable in withholding the charitable 'helpin' haund' seemingly reserved only for the 'kintramon' overseas--the archetypical 'brither Scot'. The chancing tramp, on the other 'haund', is sent packing; out-matched by the wealthy, play-acting Scot and redirected back to his 'own gountry'. In this regard, the fable of the 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German' can be read as a prime example of Scottish imperial exceptionalism, played out against a flattering narrative backdrop of Scottish savvy and success within the British Empire, and demonstrative of the prestige of the transnational caricature of the 'Canny Scot'. (6)
But perhaps more explicit than the undercurrent of a congratulatory and 'racially'-tinted Scottish exceptionalism within the tale is the overt demonstration of a global, early twentieth-century familiarity with the notion of the 'kailyard brogue' which served to mark out Scots, and their successes, overseas. The parable of the 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German' is strongly suggestive of a widespread recognition of discernibly Scottish linguistic forms, and of the familiarity of a global Anglophone readership with the concept and characteristics of the 'kailyard school' of Scottish literature. (7) Ultimately, the 'humour' of the 'Canny Scot' hinges on the reader's assumed acquaintance with both the self-consciously Scottified language of the 'kailyard school' and the interplay between 'standard' and 'non-standard' linguistic varieties, so typical of the literary subgenre.
The opportunistic tramp comically adopts the cliches of the 'kailyard brogue' only to be thwarted by the 'Canny Scot', ironically professing ignorance of such Scots shibboleths whilst engaging in his own verbal charade of exaggerated 'Cherman'-English. But crucially, the incomprehension is merely a pretence, and the reader, much like the 'Canny Scot', is expected both to understand and to see through the tramp's linguistic deception. Capitalising upon a mutual familiarity with the literary trope of the kailyardic 'braid Scots', both the reader and the Scottish protagonist assume a shared superiority over the tramp, whose unconvincingly overdone 'kailyard brogue' renders him unable to imitate the traits of a Scots accent to his best advantage.
The comical linguistic masquerade within the tale also plays upon an Anglophone understanding of the 'kailyard brogue' as humorously un-understandable; a literary device part entertaining, cliched distortion of a 'standard' English, and part faux-unknowable, indecipherable jargon irreconcilable to 'der Angleesh' and comparable to 'Ghineze'. As such, the tones of the 'kailyard brogue' achieve the dual function of sounding at once both foreign and familiar to speakers of an increasingly global 'standard' English. (8) The tramp's assumed 'kailyard brogue' is both conveyed and received as a recognisable, yet recognisably distinct, Scottish manner of expression--an intentionally divergent linguistic contra-diction.
Embedded within the utterance of the foreign-yet-familiar stylings of kailyardic language are the implicit, early twentieth-century assumptions of Scottish cultural and imperial exceptionalism within the broad, transnational bounds of 'Greater Britain'. (9) Scottish imperial enthusiasm and involvement throughout the nineteenth century have been well documented, and an alignment with the tenets of British imperialism lie at the root of some of the most enduring articulations of Scottish national consciousness. (10) The markedly Scots-inflected tones of the 'kailyard brogue' were no exception. From the mid-nineteenth century, the increasingly objectified Scottish linguistic tropes and cultural traits that would later become characteristic of the literary phenomenon of the 'kailyard school' were habitually exploited both within and outwith Scotland, and a symbolic, sentimental Scots imperialism of an 'intelligible foreignness' was often voiced through a selected lexicon of Lowland linguistic devices. (11)
The popular contra-diction of distinctively Scots-sounding language was wedded to the comparably contradictory conceit of a Scottish imperialism perceived at once both sentimental and celebratory, a discourse predicated upon an oscillation between notions of a quaint, couthily-cultured Scots parochialism and a highly chauvinistic conception of the Scottish contribution to the British imperial mission. The famed Scots imperial acumen and industrial clout of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, tempered through a kailyardic haze of picturesque language and nostalgic sentiment, was widely proclaimed throughout 'Greater Britain'.
Indeed, this kailyardic contra(-)diction both bounded and bonded 'Greater Britain', and was a perceptible comic trope which circulated within the back pages of a remarkable range of newspapers and literary publications throughout the English-speaking world. Between December 1901 and January 1902, an article from the London Globe was reprinted in newspapers as far afield as New York City, Phoenix, Adelaide, Wanganui and Barrie, Ontario, revelling in the reminiscence of an international business order supposedly written 'in the best "Kailyard" style'. (12) The anonymous author of the piece, prompted by a recent 'story from Sydney' reporting the requests of American businessmen to their Australian counterparts on 'whether communications should be written in English or in "the language of the country"' was put in mind of a 'trade circular received [...] by a business house in Glasgow from a German manufacturer'. The order, 'written in what the German's versatile clerk had apparently taken for "the language of the country["]', requested the Glasgow company to arrange the delivery of a 'muckle consignment o' chemicals'.
Disseminated throughout the British dominions and the United States, the article notably associates the distinctive contra-diction of the 'best "Kailyard" style' with a discussion of the complexities of transnational linguistic variance within the 'Anglo-world'; pondering the relationship between a global English 'standard' and the localised 'language of the country'. Yet, as with the implicit success of the 'Canny Scot', a tacit assertion of Scottish achievement and international renown forms the foundation of the kailyardic communication--with the intention of the German firm to secure a 'muckle consignment' of supplies from the Glaswegian company subtly evoking the enterprise and prestige of the Empire's 'second city'.
Read alongside 'A Canny Scot, or Guttural German' another distinctive note of Scottish superiority emerges. Significantly, not only are international, non-Scots speakers presented as being acutely aware of the literary phenomenon of the Scottish 'kailyard', they are, in both instances, shown to be comically keen to emulate kailyardic language in order to benefit from Scottish industriousness and expertise. More significantly, perhaps, the intended humour of both anecdotes resides in the fact that the over-eager non-Scots can't quite manage to pull it off. The 'best "Kailyard" style' of the well-meaning German clerk is clearly regarded by the author of the article as manifestly not 'the language of the country', and the linguistic incongruity of the demanded 'consignment o' chemicals' gives pause for a knowing, Anglophone chuckle of superiority. As noted, there is a similar sense of one-upmanship at work within 'The Canny Scot, or Guttural German' where the tramp's attempted 'kailyard brogue' is perceptibly overzealous and thus comically unconvincing. The 'Canny Scot', conversely, seems to have no such trouble, and successfully manages to dupe the tramp into believing that he is 'a Cherman', with his own dubiously inflected English. The effective exploitation of accented linguistic devices, it would seem, was perceived to be the province of Scots, and Scots alone.
The kailyardic contra(-)diction, then, revolved around a recognition of an internationally discernible, foreign-yet-familiar Scottish linguistic difference from an English 'standard', couthily marking (and at times masking) an implicit sense of imperial exceptionalism. Trivial and ephemeral as they undoubtedly appear, both brief articles nonetheless highlight a certain Anglophone indulgence of distinctive Scottish language whilst at the same time representing the trope of the 'kailyard' as a humorously over-done and even 'inauthentic' articulation of an ersatz Scottishness. Essentially, the kailyardic contra(-)diction served to assert a conspicuous and commendable Scots presence within the vague, transnational conception of an Anglophone 'Greater Britain'; blending an unmistakably Scottish pigment into the social, cultural, and linguistic brushstrokes used to outline an imperial 'English element' tasked with 'the moral directorship of the globe, [...] ruling mankind through Saxon institutions and the English tongue'. (13) It is the intention of this study to highlight the manifestation of this alternately-accented, sentimental-yet-celebratory kailyardic contra(-)diction, emblematic of a self-consciously Scottish presence within the broad, global notion of a united 'Greater Britain'. (14)
The category of 'kailyard', of course, continues to remain a rather loose and heavily-loaded piece of literary baggage, requiring no small amount of unpacking. Frequently employed as a pejorative label to denote a general malaise of Scottish cultural creativity, the derogatory tag of 'kailyard' is often co-opted as a condescending catch-all indicative of the 'worst excesses' of a Scottish kitsch of unforgivably 'bad art and bad patriotism'. (15) As such, the concept of 'kailyard', has long since departed from J. H. Millar's original use of the term in his criticism of the rather saccharine, late nineteenth-century fiction of James Barrie, Samuel Crockett, and 'Ian Maclaren' --the pen-name of Rev. John Watson. (16) As Andrew Nash has convincingly argued, a twentieth-century tradition of generally employing the term 'kailyard' to imply a lengthy and vaguely Victorian-era 'imaginative failure', essentially viewed as the 'wrong ways of writing about Scotland', has endowed the category with an undue and ultimately illusory sense of literary ubiquity. (17)
Crucially, this tendency to cry 'kailyard' whenever uncomfortably confronted with a Scottish text or tradition lying awkwardly at odds with contemporary trends in national sensibility has resulted both in a rather 'lazy' over-application of the term and also in an uninstructive under-appreciation of the analytical purposes for which the category of 'kailyard' was originally intended. (18) Further, by fixing one's gaze too squarely upon a pre-empted pale of 'kailyard'--considered only as a scornfully cordoned-off sub-section of a Scottish (or English, or British) literary canon--and by merely focusing in on the conceit of texts collectively cast 'owre the kailyard-wa", the eye of the reader, rather like that of 'Hugh MacDiarmid', becomes unhelpfully blinkered into missing a central issue at hand. (19)
For the purposes of this study, the consignment of certain texts or literary tropes within the confines of 'kailyard' is of little importance. Of much greater significance is the preliminary perception of the 'kailyard-wa" itself and the possible motives lying at the root of its foundation. With this in mind, one might choose to ponder what the perimeter of the 'kailyardwa" stands to mark, seeks to bind, and serves to divide--focusing attention, perhaps, towards a consideration of the construction of the discursive barrier of 'kailyard', while maintaining an awareness of the historical contexts and literary content penned, and penned-in, by such cultural and literary parameters.
Integral to this approach are the well-marked linguistic articulations which sought to symbolise Scotland, or distinctly Scottish characteristics, within the overarching framework of a 'Greater Britain'. Rather like the construct of the 'kailyard wa" itself, objectified Lowland linguistic forms could operate as both barrier and open border to an Anglophone sense of Scottishness; striving to mark a recognisable Scots distinction reconcilable to, and indeed deeply embedded within, the preeminent social, religious, and 'racial' values of later nineteenth-century conceptions of a global, English-speaking 'Greater Britain'.
Bearing this in mind, it should appear clear that it is decidedly not the intention of this investigation to suggest any authoritative, immovable definition of 'kailyard', nor to commandingly stamp the 'kailyard' tag upon the dust-jackets of one text or another. Nevertheless, before prying further, a brief discussion of the key term of 'kailyardic' may be appropriate, forming as it does, a key theme within Scottish imperial discourses.
Within this study, the literary term of 'kailyardic' can be typified by two distinct, yet frequently interconnected elements: that of the discernible-yet-divergent Scottish linguistic contra -diction, and that of an emotive and sentimental sense of Scottish national characteristics coupled with the imagined nostalgia of an exilic Scottish emigration. Notably, aspects of both of these traits have long been scrutinised by generations of critics of the 'kailyard school' of Scottish literature.
From its inception, commonly associated with Millar's New Review article of 1895, the concept of 'kailyard' has been closely connected with the issue of a self-conscious literary display of distinctly Scottish Lowland linguistic devices. (20) In an age seemingly preoccupied with the portrayal of the 'darling idiosyncrasies' of localised language, Millar sardonically perceived that 'the Caledonian note' had 'rung out with its customary clearness' across the English-speaking world. (21) Significantly, subsequent analyses of 'kailyard' literature have similarly focused in on an 'adroit use' of a Scots-inflected dialogue, with the trope of 'rustic characters speaking slowly and pawkily in an odd variety of English' recognised as constituting 'an established and marketable literary convention' within popular Anglophone fiction during the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. (22) In perhaps the most detailed investigation of the prominence of Lowland language within nineteenth-century Scottish literature, Emma Letley takes this observation slightly further--regarding the manifestation of Lowland linguistic forms within 'kailyard' writing as 'a very self-conscious literary gesture' in which a 'well drilled' implementation of Scots phraseology served to satisfy demands for an Anglophone sense of Scottish 'exoticism' expressed as 'the language of a foreign country', and conveyed as contra -diction--at once both quaintly puzzling and reassuringly familiar. (23)
Tellingly, this kailyardic 'gesture' of Scottish linguistic objectification was well noted and widely derided within British newspapers during the 1890s, and in 1896 the Scottish Text Society formally resolved to 'protest against the degradation of the Scottish language which the "kailyard school" of literature has recently produced'. (24) In a discussion of the Scottish 'vernacular' in December 1898, the Glasgow Herald regarded the 'remarkable vogue of the Scotch story', seemingly embodied by the 'high-water-mark' success of James Barrie's A Window in Thrums, to be closely associated with 'the real decadence of the Scottish vernacular'. (25) Despairing of the kailyardic 'imitators' in their 'strain' for 'vernacular-colour-effects by a liberal dash of dialect words', the author of the article deemed 'their success' to be ultimately 'facetious'--finding particularly deplorable 'the "waesome element o' greetin' an' deein,"' seemingly reflective of 'the whole gallery of the Kailyard'. (26) The previous September, the Dundee Courier had been comparably scathing, railing against 'kailyard crudities and vulgarities of dialect', and praising the novelist Sarah Tytler for the comparatively 'genuine' nature of 'her Scotch'--divorced from a 'provincial eccentricity of speech and spelling [...] never forced, and always, as broad Scotch can easily be, natural and refined'. (27) Crucially, during the late-nineteenth century, the zenith of 'kailyard' popularity, contemporary reviewers both north and south of the border were often deeply cynical of the characteristic of overtly Scottified language; a scepticism perhaps best symbolised by the Times's review of W. G. Tarbert's 1897 In Oor Kailyard, which deemed the kailyardic trope so easily achieved 'that every Scotchman could do it if he abandons his mind to it'. (28)
Yet despite these substantial domestic detractions, the supposed 'gutter Scotch' of the 'new Scotch fiction' was potentially overturned by a second essential kailyardic component: popular, preconceived nostalgia. (29) In 1896, the Edinburgh Review, anticipating the stance of the Glasgow Herald two years later, criticised the language of Barrie's A Window in Thrums--perceiving '[t]he Scotch' to be 'perhaps unnecessarily broad' and pondering 'possibly there is too much of it for the purposes of effective art'. (30) Nevertheless, the Review concluded that 'to the Scotchman born' the novel's apparent 'realism' was both 'strangely striking and impressive', and Barrie's Thrums was declared,
[...] a story we should be sorry to read were we inclined to homesickness, on the sun-baked plains of Australia or the waterless Karoo of South Africa. (31)
Evidently, the imagined emotional stirrings of sentimental Scottish migrants were perceived to counteract the 'impropriety' of a somewhat overdone usage of Lowland linguistic forms.
Notably, such sentiments echo those previously articulated within one of the most influential nineteenth-century discussions of Scottish national characteristics--Dean Ramsay's exhaustive Reminiscences of Scottish Rife and Character of 1858. The widely popular anecdotal collection of Edward Bannerman Ramsay (1792-1872), Episcopalian clergyman and Dean of the Edinburgh diocese, ran through several editions during the latter half of the nineteenth century and was highly significant in perpetuating the wistful symbiosis of Scottish exilic yearning and the marked employment of Lowland linguistic shibboleths. (32) Considered 'the most popular author of this generation' by the Scottish advocate and historian Cosmo Innes in his introduction to the twenty-second edition of the Reminiscences in 1874, the 'marvellous success' of Ramsay and 'the little book' was noted to have traversed '[a]ll over the world, wherever Scotch men and Scotch language have made their way--and that embraces wide regions'. (33)
Within the Reminiscences, Ramsay wrote of 'Scottish language' assuming a 'far more impressive character when heard amongst those who speak a different tongue, and when encountered in other lands', and celebrated a seemingly innate 'national attachment so strong in the Scottish character', attesting,
[...] whilst absent, however long a time, Scotchmen never forget their Scottish home. In all varieties and climates their hearts ever turn toward the 'land o' cakes and brither Scots'. Scottish festivals are kept with Scottish feelings on 'Greenland's icy mountains' or 'India's coral strand'. [Original emphasis]. (34)
In the above extract, Ramsay stresses a misty-eyed Scottish exceptionalism in which a selection of punctuated Scots phraseology nestles alongside the emotive missionary hymn lyrics of Reginald Heber, Anglican Bishop of Calcutta during the mid-1820s; presenting 'Scottish feelings' as both triumphant and sentimental, and championing a Scottishness at once immediately localised and sweepingly global. (35) In a manner directly comparable to the later articulations of kailyardic contra(-)diction, Ramsay employed the tropes of both the 'parochial' and 'imperial' to project a simultaneously sympathetic and celebratory notion of mid nineteenth-century Scottish imperialism.
Moreover, this was a globally-envisioned and globally-constructed sense of Scottish exceptionalism. In the preface to first edition of the Reminiscences, Ramsay outlined his ultimate intention to 'preserve national peculiarities which are thus passing away from us', remarking that 'one great pleasure' of his undertaking was receiving a flood of anecdotes emblematic of Scottish idiosyncrasy from individuals scattered around the globe. (36) It is hugely significant that much of the raw material for Ramsay's Reminiscences, itself a core text in the formulation of a kailyardic Scottish sensibility during the later nineteenth century, ultimately originated outwith Scotland and was received by an author particularly keen to claim that such 'numerous and sympathetic communications' were sourced
[...] I may literally say from Scotchmen in all quarters of the world', sometimes communicating very good examples of Scottish humour, and always expressing their great pleasure in reading, when in distant lands and foreign scenes, anecdotes which remind them of Scotland, and of their ain days of 'auld langsyne'. [Original emphasis]. (37)
Such conceptions of Scotland, closely associated with the symbolic distance and the pre-empted nostalgia of migrants' memories of 'their ain days of "auld langsyne,"' clearly contributed to the conceit of the nation as the 'just-vanished comfortable certainty' noted by Ian Campbell in his 1981 reassessment of the 'kailyard' phenomenon. (38) Through the reassuring haze of such 'reminiscences' flickered the kailyardic glamour of 'a credible picture of great attractiveness', earnestly projected and readily perceived throughout the British imperial world. (39)
Yet behind the allure of kailyardic nostalgia lurked an underlying, celebratory sense of Anglophone cultural superiority and imperial dominance. In June 1895, in direct response to J. H. Millar's New Review article, the Auckland Star rallied to the defence of 'The Literature of the Kailyard', declaring,
[t]o the Scot abroad in a 'cautie' mood, the common 'kailyard' of bonnie Scotland is simply charming. Glorified in the light of Scottish song, it shines with a beauty surpassing the finest flower garden of other lands. (40)
Millar, perceived 'to conceal a Cockney nature under a Scottish name', was noted by the Star to be 'in danger of being spoken of by some irate Scotchman as--"that sneering buddy,"' and his damning interpretation of 'Ian Maclaren's' 'diseased craving for the pathetic' provoked a particularly incensed splutter of a response:
Shades of 'Drumtochty' listen to this! And all ye many thousands throughout Christendom who have felt the heart softened and sanctified, gladdened and strengthened by revelations of divine life in Scotland from the pen of Ian Maclaren! What a lofty owl, blinking in the sunlight and blind to all that is tender and good, true beautiful in life and literature, this critic must appear to the many who turn away from the evil excitement of much modern romance to rest awhile 'Beside the Bonnie Briar Bush'. (41)
Tellingly, Millar was repeatedly perceived 'to betray a heart soiled by the evil influences of London life and of modern novels', and his contemptuous dismissal of the fiction of Barrie, Crockett and 'Maclaren' as 'parochial', was reclaimed by the author as a particular badge of honour:
The 'parochial' feature of the literature sneered at is one of the chief secrets of its power. The three great Scottish prose writers of the present day [...] are revealing a wealth of meaning in the simple life and in common things. In this good work they enrich and enlarge our human hearts and lives, and link them high and low in mystic bonds of love and brotherhood. The lights and shadows of the Scottish manse garden, even of the despised 'kailyard' of Thrums, are the lights and shadows of mans' world and God's universe. (42)
For the Auckland author, the literature of the Scottish 'kailyard school'--revered as the language of the 'parochial', becomes heavily aligned with the language of an almost evangelical 'power'--the 'simple things' and 'good work' envisaged to encapsulate an all-encompassing bond between 'mans' world and God's universe'. Yet ultimately, this was a vision inextricably tied to the cultural, 'ethnic' and religious superiorism bonding the British Empire and the 'Anglo-world'. The sentiments of 'kailyard' were possessively perceived by the New Zealand newspaper to 'enrich and enlarge our human hearts and lives', lives seemingly synonymous with those of 'ye many thousands throughout Christendom'--a globally-imagined Anglophone community 'softened and sanctified, gladdened and strengthened by revelations of divine life in Scotland'.
Even the most cursory of glances at the texts of the vastly understudied, Dean Ramsay-inspired oeuvre of late-nineteenth century Scottish 'reminiscence' narratives, provides significant evidence of this kailyardic contra(-)diction. In 1894, David Douglas's Castle Street printing house in Edinburgh published two texts by the Scottish adventurer James Inglis (1845-1908): The Humour of the Scot and Oor Ain Folk. In both of these quintessentially kailyardic collections, Inglis reflects on a career spanning three decades of colonial sojourning and office-holding, during which the Scot adopted the rather unimaginative 'native' nicknames of 'Tiger', 'Rajah', and 'Maori'. (43) Within both collections Inglis pays homage to a series of past 'masters of the craft' of commemorating Scottish traits, notably including such figures as Walter Scott, Dean Ramsay, James Barrie and Samuel Crockett within his canon. (44)
Rather like Ramsay, Inglis perceived Scottish imperial achievement to go hand in hand with a deep-rooted and 'unquestionable' Scottish patriotism, predominantly manifested through self-conscious cultural and linguistic distinction. He insisted in Humour of the Scot:
[...] wherever you find the sons of Scotia, in Arctic winters or in torrid heat, their nationality is not to be hid. Some trick of manner or speech 'bewrayeth them'. Indeed they are not want to 'hide their talents under a bushel'; and it is but expressing an acknowledged fact, [...] with a perfectly legitimate pride, that they are rarely found, in any appreciable number, filling menial or subordinate positions anywhere abroad. (45)
Indeed, for Inglis, Scottish imperial patriotism was fundamentally 'legitimate'; inherently justifiable, logically deduced; articulated through a 'trick of manner or speech' in seemingly quantifiable and 'unmistakeably truly Scottish tones'. (46)
The common heritage we possess in our language, our literature, our songs, our history, and the exquisite natural beauty of our rugged country, serves to knit Scotchmen to each other all the wide world over in bonds of sentiment as elastic as silk, but strong as steel--only, our sentiment seldom runs away with us. It is controlled by reason, by habits of acquired reflection and logical deduction; and though the national sentiment may refuse to manifest itself at the behest of a counterfeit, no matter howsoever cunningly bedecked in national guise; [...] no matter howsoever plausibly disguised in Scottish colours; let but a genuine call be made upon it, for objects worthy and in unmistakably truly Scottish tones, and the response is prompt and generous beyond all dry calculation and formal exactitude. I have seen this proved over and over again in my thirty years' residence abroad. [Emphasis added]. (47)
In his attempt to offer a 'genuine call' to the 'national sentiment', much of Inglis's narrative of unabashed nostalgia hinges upon a 'common bond and heritage' perceived to be under the direct threat of eradication, and in a manner identical to that of Ramsay in his mid-century Reminiscences, Inglis declared his intention to preserve,
[...] the quaint customs, the curious oddities of style and dress, the old-fashioned habitudes of thought, and the strongly marked individualities of the older generation, which are fast vanishing before the breath of so-called modern progress. (48)
For Inglis, the remnants of an exclusively Scottish cultural distinction were essentially located in the 'quaint and strongly-marked individualities' of a Scottish parochialism of which distinctive linguistic markers were a crucial characteristic. (49) In contrast with 'our modern niminypiminy mealy-mouthedness', Inglis venerates the 'quaint instance of the Scotch idiom', and the 'pawky sayings and racy incidents which form the never-ending subject of Scottish reminiscence'. (50)
Throughout his accounts the Scottish sojourner takes particular pains to proclaim 'how rich and racy and expressive is the Scottish "virnack'lar" itself'; on one occasion attesting with a plethora of essentially kailyardic diminutives,
[t]housands of examples at once present themselves--'greetin',' 'girnin',' 'pechin',' 'dawtie',' 'wimplin' burnie,' 'trachle,' 'bairnie,' and so on. But a few illustrations by way of contrast may perhaps best illustrate my meaning. (51)
Indeed, 'illustrations by way of contrast' could serve as an apt subtitle for both of Inglis's 1894 narratives. Inglis often emphasises such conspicuous Scottish cultural divergence through a manifestation and manipulation of distinctive Lowland language, intended to voice a seemingly threatened cultural essence within a globally-triumphant, late nineteenth-century Scottish imperial ideal.
Four years after the issuing of Inglis's anecdotes, John Imrie, the Toronto-based poet and bookman, printed The Scot, At Home and Abroad--produced by his own Church Street publishing company and sold for 25 cents per copy. (52) Like the work of Inglis, Imrie's text offers an archetypal example of the self-congratulatory 'inextinguishable ardour' of Scottish imperial triumphalism interspersed with a significant scattering of Lowland language--in this instance conspicuously enclosed within inverted commas. (53) Indeed, as the title of Imrie's Scot indicates, the publication is a transcription of the 'Substance of a lecture', and the Toronto poet's deliberate punctuation of Lowland language within the text is perhaps suggestive of the intentional, emphatic shifts in accent and pronunciation which may have marked his own spoken delivery.
Much like Inglis and Ramsay, Imrie the emigre proudly proclaims his compatriots to be found universally,
[...] at the front, in intelligence and enterprise, in every known and habitable part of the globe: At home, 'in bonnie Scotland', the Scot is true and loyal to his God, his country, and his kirk; In all of Britain's battles and glorious victories, [...] where loyalty, sacrifice, energy, patience, and pluck are wanted, there will you find a Scotchman, either in the army or the navy, the pulpit or the bench, the platform or the haunts of science, in commerce or in trade, in love or war, 'Scotty' is 'aye ready', and, 'man tae man the warld ower', he'll hold his own--and win--with any representative of any other nation on the earth's round, rugged surface. (54)
Later in the text, in an apparent attempt to provide a humorous counter to such effusive praise, Imrie's use of a Lowland lexicon becomes even more manifest,
'Nae doot:' the Scot has his faults and his failings, but they are ever and always subordinate to his virtues! He is called 'clannish!' and 'unca canny!' and 'close-fisted' in regard to money matters. [...] He is said, also, to be over-fond 'o' a drap o' guid whiskey!' but a 'canny Scot' 'kens whan he is fu" long before he gets to into that 'happy and helpless' condition known as 'incapable' in other countries outside of Scotland! A Scotchman is very seldom known 'to lose his head', so far as to not know, and be able to demonstrate, 'how many shillings there are in a pound', or 'how many bawbees there are in a sixpence!' (55)
While he is clearly keen to indulge in the kailyardic assertion of a set of comically familiar 'canny' Scottish archetypes through the usage of recognisable Lowland phraseology, Imrie's ultimate intention is to proclaim a seemingly near-universal Scottish superiority within the dominion, in which 'the Scotch, as enterprising and progressive settlers, practically rule the country'. (56) Notably, Imrie articulates such Scottish success along strikingly linguistic lines:
The leading members of our Dominion and Local Parliaments speak the Doric! [...] The professors in our colleges, the ministers in our pulpits, the doctors in our medical schools and hospitals, the principals and teachers in our public schools, are all more or less tainted with the Doric; and, as this is true in Canada, so it is in all of our British Colonies, east and west, and also obtains largely in the great Republic to the south of us. (57)
For Imrie, Lowland Scottish linguistic forms, ambiguously united within the dignified 'Doric' are reflective of a highly celebratory sense of Scottishness within the British Empire; projecting an image of migrant Scots as both notably distinguished and readily distinguishable within the British dominions and the 'great Republic' of the United States, conspicuously and unashamedly 'tainted' with Lowland language.
Within Scotland, the 'reminiscence' narrative of William Sinclair, Scottish Life and Humour, printed in 1898, the same year as Imrie's Scot, offered strikingly similar sentiments, although of a much more discerning nature with regard to the 'purity' of Lowland Scottish language. (58) Defining the 'Auld Scottish Tongue' as decidedly 'not that horrible bastard which some modern would-be wits use, and which consists chiefly in writing "ye" for "the" and "yin" for "one",' Sinclair bemoaned the 'atrocities committed on the Scottish tongue by some people on the south side of the Border' who 'regard the maiming and mutilation of Scotch as a huge joke'. (59)
The author concluded his short discussion of Lowland language with a general call for 'a better appreciation of the Scottish tongue', and offered a final, intriguing observation:
Good old Scottish tongue! How it adapts itself to every country on the face of the earth, just as those who use it do! It was not long after the acquisition of Wei-Hai-Wei by this country before two Scotsmen, according to an eminent authority, were discovered discussing the situation. 'Aye, we hae Wei-Hai-Wei!' 'Hae we?' 'Aye, hae we!' (60)
Thus, in an impressive piece of logical re-arrangement, Lowland language is perceived near-simultaneously as both internationally dominant and domestically vulnerable. Moreover, the apparent 'adaptability' of Scots linguistic traits is directly compared with an envisioned Scottish capacity for colonisation, while Lowland language is explicitly utilised in an anecdote celebrating the wholehearted Scottish participation in British imperial acquisition.
The kailyardic contra(-)diction underscored much of the rhetoric of Scottish celebrations of empire; punctuating the conceit of Scots' global prosperity with a comically 'pawky' or nobly parochial caricature clearly marked by the recognisable tropes of Lowland language. Yet an unambiguous alignment with the Anglophone bonds of 'Greater Britain' lay at the root. Kailyardic contraQdiction persisted well into the twentieth century, and its couthy components and imperial associations functioned as key ingredients within the formation of the archetypes of 'tartanry' which have so long infuriated Scottish cultural commentators. (61) Indeed, the persona of the music-hall 'Scotch comic' and the international popularity of a turn-of-the-century generation of Scottish performers such as James Houtson, David Kennedy, W. F. Frame and, of course, Harry Lauder, serve as a final testament to the prevalence of kailyardic contra(-)diction throughout the 'Anglo-world'. (62)
Indeed, it may be appropriate to conclude this investigation with a brief anecdote from Harry Lauder--the Edinburgh-born showman whose global success perhaps rested on his early-career decision to 'get a footing in England' by conducting his distinctively Scottish act 'in English [...] but with a Scottish accent . Throughout the early decades of the twentieth century, Lauder, golf-partner to several US presidents and the first ever popular performer to receive a British knighthood, embarked upon several highly lucrative international tours, playing the Scots-themed songs 'I Love a Lassie', 'Stop Yer Ticklin' Jock', and the infamous 'Roamin' in the Gloamin" to packed-out crowds throughout the British Empire and the United States.
In his 1928 autobiography, Lauder recounts a curious incident 'at Rangoon', now Yangon in Myanmar, where he was invited to 'visit the palace of Mr. Lim, a Chinese gentleman'--the notorious 'Sugar King' of India 'reputed to be one of the richest Chinamen in the world'. Lauder recalls entering the residence, 'the last word in Eastern opulence', where he was met by his host:
Mr. Lim [...] completely knocked the wind out of my sails when I was introduced to him by breaking out with 'Man, Harry, it's a braw, bricht moonlicht nicht, the nicht is it no? Hooch, aye!' He spoke the Scottish dialect like a native of Stirling. [...] Thoroughly enjoying my discomfiture, Mr. Lim started to laugh and added further to my bewilderment by remarking, 'Say, Harry ma cock, hoo wad ye like me tae gie ye a blaw o the pipes--"The Seventy-ninth's Farewell," or "The Haughs o' Cromdale?"' And without further ado he proceeded to seize a set of bagpipes from a table in the corner of the room and 'tune up'. (66)
After the impromptu bagpipe recital and over a dinner 'of rice and chicken with chop-sticks!' the internationally-renowned Scottish singer discovered that the Chinese millionaire had, in his youth, attended the aptly-named Dollar Academy in Clackmannanshire, and had thereafter retained a penchant for all things Scottish. (67) Lauder recounts that upon leaving,
Mr. Lim slapped me on the back and remarked, with impeccable Scottish accent, 'Well, well, Harry, guid nicht, an' joy be wi' ye! It's been like a breath o' the purple heather to hae ye here. Hastye back again, Laddie! Here's to us! Wha's like us? Damn the yin!' So saying he handed me a Deoch-an-Doris, took one himself, and Harry Lauder and Mr. Lim, grand Scots both, parted the best of friends and cronies.
Here, rather like the case of the 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German' we have a colonial encounter self-consciously conducted through the distinctive medium of Lowland Scottish language. Yet unlike the rather frosty reception of the 'Ghineze' tramp and his 'kailyard brogue', the Scottified platitudes and 'Hooch, ayes!' of Mr Lim--'one of the richest Chinamen in the world'--were deemed wholly appropriate by his Scottish guest, despite an initial 'discomfiture'.
All quibbling issues of linguistic 'accuracy' aside, the final image of Lim and Lauder, the 'Sugar King' of India and the world-famous performer, 'grand Scots both', parting as 'best friends and cronies' with toasts of 'Wha's like us?' aptly encapsulates the kailyardic contra(-)diction. One might be forgiven for wondering whether the 'last word' of this supposedly 'Eastern opulence' wasn't in fact mouthed with the tones of an 'impeccable Scottish accent'.
(1) 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German', Otago Witness, 4 May 1904, p. 7;.
(2) 'Canny Scot, or Guttural German', Penshurst Free Press (Victoria), 30 September 1904, p. 4, Riverina Kecorder (Balranald, NSW), 16 November 1904, p. 2. Also; Coburg Leader, (Victoria), 17 September 1904, p. 2, Murrurundi Times and Liverpool Plains Gazette (NSW), 29 October 1904, p. 3, Braidwood Dispatch and Mining Journal (NSW), 29 October 1904, p. 2, Muswellbrook Chronicle (NSW), 29 October 1904, p. 4, Macleaj Chronicle (Kempsey, NSW), 15 December 1904, p. 2.
(3) Charles Wentworth Dilke, Greater Britain, (1868: Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 2 vols., II, pp. 120-21.
(4) Lars Jensen, Unsettling Australia: Readings in Australian Cultural History, (New Delhi: Atlantic, 2005), pp. 135-57, Manying Ip (ed.), Unfolding History, Evolving Identity: The Chinese in Neiv Zealand, (Auckland: Aukland University Press, 2003).
(5) A. T. Yarwood and M. J. Knowling, Race Relations in Australia: A History, (Melbourne: Methuen Australia, :982k pp. 165-88, Richard White, Inventing Australia: Images and Identity 1688-1980, (Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1988), pp. 71-72, 81, 140, Kathryn Cronin, Colonial Casualties: Chinese in Early Victoria, (Melbourne: Melbourne University Press 1982). For New Zealand see, Stevan Eldred-Grigg with Zeng Dazheng (eds), White Ghosts, Yellow Peril: China and New Zealand 1990-1990, (Dunedin: Otago University Press, 2014), Brian Moloughney and John Stenhouse, '"Drugbesotten, Sin-begotten Fields of Filth": New Zealanders and the Oriental Other, 1850 1920', New Zealand Journal of History, 33 (1), 1999, pp. 43-64. For an insightful reassessment of the complexities of nineteenth-century Chinese migration and integration in New Zealand, often obscured by an overconcentration of analysis on institutional exclusionary policies and 'racialised' discrimination, see, Tony Ballantyne and Brian Moloughney, 'Asia in Murijiku: towards a transnational history of a colonial culture', Tony Ballantyne and Brian Moloughney (eds), Disputed Histories: Imaging New Zealand's Pasts, (Dunedin: Otago University Press 2006).
(6) The rhetoric of Scottish imperial achievement and the prevalence of the 'canny' Scottish stereotype formed a recurrent and distinctive aspect of the nineteenth-century associational culture of the Scottish 'diaspora', John MacKenzie, 'A Scottish Empire? The Scottish diaspora and interactive identities', Tom Brooking and Jennie Coleman (eds), The Heather and the Fern: Scottish Migration and New Zealand, (Dunedin: Otago University Press, 2003), pp. 22-29, Tanja Bueltmann, Andrew Hinson and Graeme Morton, The Scottish Diaspora, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2013), pp. 82, 108-10. See also, Tanja Bueltmann, Andrew Hinson and Graeme Morton, 'Introduction: Diaspora, Associations and Scottish Identity', Tanja Bueltmann, Andrew Hinson and Graeme Morton (eds), Ties of Bluid, Kin and Countrie: Scottish Associational Culture and the Diaspora, (Guelph: University of Guelph, 2009), pp. 8-12.
(7) For the global popularity of kailyardic Scottish literature see Iain Wright, 'The Diaspora and its Writers', Ian Brown ed., The Edinburgh History of Scottish Eiterature, Volume Three: Modern Transformations: New Identities (from 1918), (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007), pp. 305-06, 313, Brad Paterson, Tom Brooking, and Jim McAloon, Unpacking the Kists, The Scots in New Zealand, (Dunedin: University of Otago Press, 2013), pp. 246-50, Colin McArthur, 'Transatlantic Scots, Their Interlocutors, and the Scottish Discursive Unconscious', Celeste Ray ed., Transatlantic Scots, (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2005), pp. 350-52. The transnational readership of 'kailyard' fiction has long been recognised within literary criticism of the sub-genre, forming a key component of recent investigations. This is frequently discussed in Andrew Nash, Kailyard and Scottish Eiterature, (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2007). See also George Blake, Barrie and the Kailyard School, (London: Arthur Baker, 1951), p. 22, Ian Campbell, Kailyard: A New Assessment: Studies of the Kailyard phenomenon in Scottish literature of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, (Edinburgh: Ramsay Head Press, 1981), pp. 115-19, Thomas Knowles, Ideology, Art and Commerce, Aspects of Eiterary Sociolog) in the Eate Victorian Scottish Kailyard, (Gothenburg: Humanities Press, 1983), pp. 16, 27, 67-68, 79. See also T. M. Devine, The Scottish Nation, (London: Allen Lane, 1999), pp. 297-98.
(8) This is a phenomenon well noted in Scottish literary studies, a device termed 'autoethnography' by James Buzard in reference to the fiction of Walter Scott; a Scottish linguistic 'intelligible foreignness, [...] something at once alien and English'. See Buzard Disorienting Fiction, The Autoethnographic Work of Nineteenth-Century British Novels, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005), pp. 74-76, 103. See also, Graham Tulloch, The Eanguage of Walter Scott, A Study of His Scottish and Period Eanguage, (London: Deutsch, 1980), pp. 168, 180-81, 202, Emma Letley, From Galt to Douglas Brown: Nineteenth Century Fiction and Scots Eanguage, (Edinburgh: Scottish Academic Press, 1988), pp. xii, 230, 245-46, Robert Crawford, 'Bakhtin and Scotland', Scotlands, (1994). 1, pp. 55-65
(9) Central to this study in the social, 'racial' and religious conception of a 'Greater Britain' bonding the British 'settler' dominions and the United States. This transnational notion is examined in detail within Duncan Bell's The Idea of Greater Britain: Empire and the Future of World Order, 1860-1900, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007). The issue of a linguistically bonded 'imagined community' underpinning a global 'Anglophone elephantiasis' is highly relevant. See James Belich, Replenishing the Earth: The Settler Revolution and the Rise of the Anglo-World, 1783-1939, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), p. 14, Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism, (1983: London: Verso, 2006). See also, Colin Kidd, 'Race, empire, and the limits of nineteenth-century Scottish nationhood,' Historical Journal, 46, 4 (2003), pp. 873-92.
(10) John M. MacKenzie, 'Empire and National Identities the Case of Scotland,' Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, (1998), vol. 8, pp. 215-31, Michael Fry, The Scottish Empire, (Edinburgh: Tuckwell, 2001), John M. Mackenzie and T. M. Devine (eds), Scotland and the British Empire, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), Graeme Morton, Ourselves and Others: Scotland 1832-1914, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2012), James J. Coleman, Remembering the Fast in Nineteenth-century Scotland: Commemoration, Nationality and Memory, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2014).
(11) Buzard, Disorienting Fiction, p. 75, Letley, From Galt to Douglas Brown, p. 246.
(12) Untitled article, New York Tribune, 1 j December 1901, p. 10, Adelaide Advertiser, 2 January 1902, p. 7, Wanganui Chronicle, 17 January 1902, p. 2, Arizona Republican, [Phoenix, Arizona], 28 January 1902, p. 3, Indiana Progress, [Indiana, Pennsylvania], 29 January 1902, p. 4. Also, 'German Scotch', Northern Advance, [Barrie, Ontario], 30 January 1902, p. 7.
(13) Dilke, Greater Britain, I, p. 318. See also Bell, Idea of Greater Britain, pp. 5-7, 184, 190-97, 252.
(14) At the root of this union was a loose-fitting theological and 'scientific' mixture; the combining notions of a 'practical' and vaguely Protestant evangelical Christianity with theories of a 'Teutonic' 'racial' superiorism underpinning explanations of the perceived global 'destiny' of a transnational, English-speaking, 'Anglo-Saxon' ascendency. See Bell, Idea of Greater Britain, pp. 7, 154-58, 175-95, Peter Mandler, 'Race' and 'nation' mid-Victorian thought,' Stefan Collini, Richard Whatmore and Brian Young (eds), History, Religion, and Culture: British Intellectual History 1770-1970, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), Hilary M. Carey, God's Empire: Religion and Colonialism in the British World, c.1801-1908, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011). For explorations of a specifically Scottish 'Teutonism' and increasingly evangelical imperial Protestantism see Colin Kidd, 'Sentiment, race and revival: Scottish identities in the aftermath of Enlightenment', Laurence Brockliss and David Eastwood (eds), A Union of multiple identities: The British Isles, c. 1730-c. 1870, (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1997), Colin Kidd, 'Teutonist Ethnology and Scottish Nationalist Inhibition, 17801880', Scottish Historical Review, 74, (1995), pp. 45-68, pp. 50, 60-61, and Esther Breitenbach, 'Religious Literature and Discourse of Empire: The Scottish Presbyterian Foreign Mission Movement,' Hilary M. Carey (ed), Empires of Religion, (Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008).
(15) Nash, Kailyard and Scottish Eiterature, pp. 169-71, Gillian Shepherd, 'The Kailyard', Douglas Gifford (ed.), The History of Scottish Eiterature: Volume 3, Nineteenth Century, (Aberdeen: Aberdeen University Press, 1988), p. 312. See also, Robert Crawford, Scotland's Books: The Penguin History of Scottish Eiterature, (London: Penguin, 2007), pp. 505-14.
(16) See J. H. Millar, 'The Literature of the Kailyard', New Review, (1895), XII, p. 384-94.
(17) Nash perceives the literary criticism of the writers of the so-called 'Scottish Renaissance', particularly 'Hugh MacDiarmid', coupled with the highly influential social and historical analyses of Tom Nairn and Marinell Ash to have been major contributors to this aggressively disdainful, overly generalised application of the 'Kailyard' sobriquet. See Andrew Nash, 'The Kailyard: Problem or Illusion?' Ian Brown, Thomas Owen Clancy, Susan Manning and Murray Pittock (eds), Edinburgh History of Scottish Literature, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007), pp. 317-23.
(18) Crawford, Scotland's Books, p. 506, Nash, 'The Kailyard: Problem or Illusion?' p. 323.
(19) 'Hugh MacDiarmid', A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle, John C. Weston (ed.), Collected Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, (New York: Macmillan, 1967), p. 89. See also, Ian Duncan, '"Upon the thistle they're impaled": Hugh MacDiarmid's Modernist Nationalism', Richard Begam and Michael Valdez Moses (eds), Modernism and Colonialism: British and Irish Literature, 1899-1939, (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2007).
(20) Millar, 'Literature of the Kailyard', p. 384.
(22) Blake, Barrie and the Kailyard School, p. 32, Knowles, Ideology, Art and Commerce, p. 27.
(23) Emma Letley, Galt to Douglas Brown, pp. 252, 218, 246, Emma Letley, 'Language and Nineteenth-Century Scottish Fiction', Gifford (ed.), History of Scottish Literature, pp. 323, 329. See also Richard Zumkhawala-Cook, Scotland As We Know It: Representations of National Identity in Literature, Film and Popular Culture, (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2008), pp. 36, 38.
(24) Anon., 'Scottish News', Aberdeen Weekly Journal, 2 December 1896, p. 3.
(25) James Colville, 'The Decadence of the Scottish Vernacular', Glasgow Herald, 24 December 1898, p. 7.
(27) Anon., 'Dundee Ninety Years Ago. Mrs Carmichael's Goddess. By Sarah Tytler', Dundee Courier, 14 September 1989, p. 6.
(28) Quoted in Nash, Kailyard and Scottish Literature, p. 37.
(29) Anon., 'Gutter Scotch', Dundee Evening Telegraph, 5 January 190;, p. 3.
(30) Alexander Shand, 'The New Scottish Novelties', Edinburgh Review, CLXXXIV, July 1896, p. 44.
(32) Nash, Kailyard and Scottish Literature, p. 27.
(33) Cosmo Innes, 'Memoir of Dean Ramsay,' Dean [Edward Bannerman] Ramsay, Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character, twenty-second edition, enlarged with the author's latest corrections and additions and a memoir of Dean Ramsay by Cosmo Innes, (Edinburgh: Edmonston & Douglas, 1874), p. lxi.
(34) Dean [Edward Bannerman] Ramsay, Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character, (1858: Edinburgh; Edmonston and Douglas, 1871), pp. 106, xix.
(35) For the work of Reginald Heber, see Jeffrey Richard, Imperialism and Music: Britain 1876-1953, (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), p. 386-87.
(36) Ramsay, Reminiscences, (1871), p. xix.
(38) Campbell, Kailyard: A New Assessment, p. 15.
(40) Anon., 'The Literature of the Kailyard,' AucklandStar, 22 June 1895, p. 4.
(43) James Inglis, The Humour of the Scot 'Neath Northern Tights and Southern Cross, (Edinburgh: Douglas, 1894), James Inglis, Oor Ain Folk Being Memories of Manse Fife in the Mearns and a Crack aboot Auld Times, (Edinburgh: Douglas, 1894). See also, Martha Rutledge, 'Inglis, James (1845-1908)', Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, adb.anu.edu.au/biography/inglis-james-3834/text6087.
(44) Inglis, Oor Ain Folk, p. viii, Humour of the Scot, p. 21.
(45) Inglis, Humour of the Scot, p. 294.
(46) ibid, p. 295.
(48) Inglis, Oor Ain Folk, p. vii.
(49) ibid, p. 118.
(50) Inglis, Humour of the Scot, pp. 211, 220.
(51) Inglis, Humour of the Scot, pp, 208, 207.
(52) John Imrie, The Scot, At Home and Abroad being the Substance of a lecture delivered by THE SCOTTISH CANADIAN POET, (Toronto: Imrie, Graham & Co., 1898). For Imrie, see his entry within Selections From Scottish Canadian Poets, (Toronto, 1900), p. 43, also, Helmut Kallmann, 'Imrie & Graham', entry for Historica Canada: www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/imrie-graham-emc/.
(53) Imrie, The Scot, A t Home and A broad, p. 3.
(54) ibid, p. 7.
(55) ibid, p. 9.
(56) ibid, p. 27.
(58) William Sinclair, Scottish Life and Humour, (Haddington: Sinclair & Co., 1898), pp. 22-26.
(59) ibid, p. 26.
(61) See Ian Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Scottish Culture, History and Myth, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2012).
(62) Paul Maloney, Scotland and the Music Hall 1850-1914, (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003), Alasdair Cameron and Adrienne Scullion (eds), Scottish Popular Theatre and Entertainment, (Glasgow: Glasgow University Library Studies, 1996). For the Scottish performers, see the biographies, James Houston, Autobiography of Mr. James Houston, Scotch Comedian, (Glasgow: Menzies & Love, 1889), Marjory Kennedy, David Kennedy the Scottish Singer: Reminiscences of his Fife and Work, (London: Alexander Gardner, 1887), W. F. Frame, W. F. Frame Tells His Own Story, (Glasgow: W. Holmes & Co., 1905?), Harry Lauder, Roamin' in the Gloamin', (London: Hutchinson & Co., 1928).
(63) Lauder, Roamin' in the Gloamin , p. 96.
(64) See Karen Marshalsay, 'Sir Harry Lauder (1870-1950)', Karen Marsalsay (ed.), The Waggle o' the Kilt. Popular theatre and entertainment in Scotland, (Glasgow: Glasgow University Library, 1992), pp. 17-19.
(65) Lauder, Roamin' in the Gloamin', p. 253.
(67) ibid, pp. 293-94.
(68) ibid, p. 294.
University of St Andrews
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|Publication:||Scottish Literary Review|
|Date:||Mar 22, 2016|
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