Hugh MacDiarmid's death 25 years ago this week was a watershed for Scottish literature, although it was several years before the extent of his loss was fully felt. A provocative, rambunctious writer, equal parts genius and agent provocateur, he was a firebrand at the heart of the world of letters, a man whose birthday, Norman MacCaig wrote, should be marked by ''two minutes' pandemonium''. A quarter of a century later, the fuse he lit has fizzled out. In his time, and for some years after, novelists, poets, playwrights and essayists came together as a fiercely political force, creating a bubbling, exuberant and sometimes wild energy. This band of writers - notable among them James Kelman, Alasdair Gray and Liz Lochhead - voiced the country's disaffection and aspirations. Wittingly or not, they were walking in MacDiarmid's footsteps, a path picked out with hard graft and fearless, sometimes
blind, conviction.
MacDiarmid died the year before Scotland's other great hope expired, that of devolution. In the wake of the defeat of 1979, writers went on the march, across the page. They were angry, visionary, and impatient. The years following MacDiarmid's death saw a flourishing of Scottish fiction and a growing popular appetite for it. From Alan Spence, Robin Jenkins, Allan Massie and William Boyd, to Janice Galloway, Candia McWilliam and A L Kennedy, the talent seemed bottomless. By the time Irvine Welsh and Alan Warner appeared, it had become commonplace to say that we were living in a golden age for literature. But, like all cliches, it has grown stale.
Today, more Scottish writers than ever are being published, and some of them, such as Alexander McCall Smith and Ian Rankin, are soaring up the bestseller charts in the UK and abroad. But with a few notable exceptions Scottish fiction is in no way remarkable now.
We may be enjoying a flowering of commercial writing, especially in crime, but there are few exciting new literary voices, few who make you sit up and think you have found a writer who might still be read in 25 or 50 years' time. Our fictional mantle today may be exceptionally broad, but it is also rather thin. Yet, while we are no longer in a golden age of literature, it's a time of rich opportunity. From arts council funding to the range of creative writing courses run by universities and the helpful legacy of earlier glory, Scottish writing has never been taken so seriously.
Nor has it ever been easier to get into print. For those keen to join the literary scene, there's more good news. This week saw the arrival of Open Inc, a writer-led Scottish press, whose first book, A Fictional Guide to Scotland ((pounds) 6.99), is a spirited collection of 19 pieces by writers whose work was chosen by a panel of judges from more than 300 anonymous submissions.
It's a mixed selection, mainly short stories, but what is most encouraging about this venture is its ethos: to find cutting-edge writing and to encourage literary experimentation. Although Open Inc is in its infancy, its spirit harks back to the progressive, language-driven, non-commercial philosophy of MacDiarmid and his ilk. It offers hope for a resurgence of writing that matters. For further details, e-mail mail@openink.co.uk, or visit: www.openinc.co.uk.
Also joining the fictional fray is Mercat Press, hitherto a non-fiction publisher. On October 1 they launch a fiction imprint, Crescent Books, with a powerful novel called The One. Its author, Paul Reed, can probably claim to be the first published writer from Muirhouse since Irvine Welsh. The raw, explosive energy of this novel, whose hero suffers from manic depression, suggests that Mercat, like Open Inc, is open to fresh voices and new perspectives. For
details, contact Crescent Books, The Mercat Press,
10 Coates Crescent, Edinburgh, EH3 7AL.
l When MacDiarmid died, the Edinburgh Book Festival wasn't even a twinkle in a bookseller's eyes. Now, it's not only the largest literary festival in the world, but has inspired several Scottish imitators. Some are small affairs run by local libraries; some, such as Aberdeen's Word Festival, are quickly establishing a distinctive personality.
Pre-eminent among them is Wigtown, whose fifth Literary Festival runs from 25-28 September, with an
impressive gathering of authors, from Melvyn Bragg and Kate Adie to Alastair Reid and Douglas Dunn.
Set amid exquisite countryside, Wigtown's 19 bookshops knock Charing Cross Road off the map. It's a reader's idyll and their bank manager's nightmare. There's a strong sense from this year's programme that Wigtown is gaining in confidence and character. Even if the festival doesn't tempt you, there's no more enchanting place to go book-browsing. For details, visit www.wigtown-booktown.co.uk/festival or tel: 01988 402 036.
