Joking apart

Not a chance, says writer Allan Brown, who argues, in a very funny, lighthearted way in his new book, The Glasgow Smile, that Scotland as a nation isn't a funny place to live at all. Brown, born in Glasgow's east end, believes that without Glasgow, Scotland would be a country of po-faced, anal-retentive fundamentalists who'd sooner break into a bank than into fits of laughter. The rest of Scotland, says the award-winning writer, just doesn't do keen comedic observation - or throw up absurdity.

"There is no Scottish comedy that is not Glaswegian," he claims. "Scotland is in fact a very unfunny country that doesn't do humour at all. Glasgow, however, lends out its wit to the rest of the country like a library book."

The Glasgow Smile sees Brown attempt (and succeed) in defining the key elements in Glasgow humour: the wryness, the aggression. "It is defensive, but it's offensive to extents that border on the sociopathic," he reveals, grinning.

An example? Brown quotes a Diary story from the Glasgow Herald, as it was then, of the German tourist who encountered a harassed Glasgow mother smacking her errant child. The tourist interrupted; "In Germany, we do not hit our children." "Is that right?" replied the mother. "In Partick we don't gas our Jews."

Brown explains why this story can make the reader smile - and be mildly shocked - at the same time. "It invokes, almost casually, what is perhaps the darkest hour in human history, the Holocaust, merely to disoblige an impertinent stranger."

The writer suggests Glasgow humour can be found in the most unlikely places. "At the height of the Ice Cream Wars, Glasgow police set up a division to collect intelligence," he recalls. "What they did was buy up lots of ice cream vans and sent plain-clothes officers out in the field. Amongst other police officers, this special unit became known as The Serious Chime Squad."

The Glasgow Smile is alphabetised, but Brown doesn't simply list Scotland's comedy exemplars, such as Billy Connolly, Kevin Bridges, Stanley Baxter and Chic Murray. He runs a keen and clever eye over places, institutions and cultural icons, from the Glasgow store the Krazy House favoured by those in search of a fashion bargain to the Panopticon Theatre, from comedian Lex McLean to journalist Jack McLean.

Indeed, the A-Z of Glasgowness begins with Aladdin, the play written by former Python Michael Palin and staged at the Citizens' Theatre, and his alphabet includes a story about cult student magazine, Ygorra. Along the way Brown offers an overview of the likes of Groundskeeper Willie and Gregory's Girl. He also includes Donald Sinclair, a name few will recognise, although the Glaswegian was the inspiration for John Cleese's sitcom character, Basil Fawlty. The hotelier had moved to Torquay and allegedly treated guests, such as the visiting Monty Python team, with disdain.

"I didn't want to write a chronological history," Brown explains. "Everything would then lead to, and away from, Billy Connolly. He's the massive tall poppy in Glasgow humour so it seemed to make sense to write it in a bitty away."

Brown's 'bittyness' sees Clatty Pat's come under comic consideration, the nickname for the cult west end nightclub, Cleopatras, with its "seedy, soggy-carpeted youth club charm, famed for the cheapness of its alcohol, its mainstream music policy and for its patrons' relaxed attitudes to amatory pluralism".

Indeed, the amatory pluralism so often practised may in fact have contributed to the poor state of the floor covering. Yet, the description is redolent of Chic Murray-level humour. Brown himself uses the language that so often defines Glaswegian comedy.

"It's a specific humour. It's not London or Lancastrian, which is about guys in dicky bows and ruffled shirts, cracking jokes with punchlines. Glasgow humour is far more subtle, and everyone is a part of the humour, from comedians to lollipop ladies, because the humour is often about what it's like being a Glaswegian."

Brown's dissection of the comedy content doesn't shy away from some rather dark subject matter, such as the visit of actor Charlie Sheen, who once toured the city looking to score drugs. "It was the first time one flat in Castlemilk had seen Mr Sheen for years," he writes. "And even though Tommy Sheridan [who's given his own section in the book] isn't a comedy character; he made himself a figure of fun in order to survive."

There are hi-brow references, from writer Joe McGrath to Armando Iannucci. And he does offer analysis of Stanley Baxter's Parliamo Glasgow, the classic language sketch, where the likes of "Whissamarramura?" is translated into "What ails you, mother?".

Yet, not every inclusion in the book is praised by the writer. Allan Brown uses his tome as an exercise in spleen-venting, for example dismissing the Comedy Unit's TV output, in particular productions such as Scotch And Wry and Rab C Nesbitt. "Nesbitt not only depicted idiocy, it endorsed it," he says. "And the Karen Dunbar Show was criminal."

The comedy argument is subjective of course, and may well invoke the wrath of many fans of the likes of Nesbitt. However, his comments are always well argued, and the critical comment isn't overloaded at the expense of stories.

"I love Johnny Beattie's tale of standing on the terrace at Great Western Road, on a day the rain was so horrendous a massive river ran down the road," he says, smiling. "And there was a guy standing looking at this tsunami who turned to Johnny and said 'Where's your ******* Venice now?' The Glasgow humour itself is torrential. It never stops. It's like living in a daily sketch show."

Were there any funny stories he heard after the book had been compiled?

"I keep hearing them all the time," he says, hinting The Glasgow Smile 2 may be on the bookshelves next year. "But one I'd most certainly have liked to incorporate was the ending of the Neds film, when the two little housing scheme boys somehow end up in the safari park and they're warned off by the parkie with 'Keep away from the lions!' And one of the wee boys replies 'Don't worry, mister. We'll no' touch your ******* lions."

Glasgow Stands Up For The Clutha, a benefit evening for the Lord Provost's Clutha Appeal Fund, featuring Janey Godley,Des Clarke, Gary Little, Mark Nelson, Bruce Morton and many others, will be held at the O2 Academy on Sunday December 22 at 7.30pm. Tickets from http://www.ticketweb.co.uk/

The Glasgow Smile: An A-Z Of The Funniest City On Earth is published by Birlinn, priced £14.99