By Brian McGeachan
HE had the poetic sensibility of Sorley MacLean. And the comic timing of Lenny Bruce.
Norman Maclean was many things; comedian, novelist, poet and piper extraordinaire. But he excelled as a composer. Specifically of the pipe tune, My Land.
In his self-lacerating memoir, The Leper’s Bell, Norman references my liking for My Land. He writes that I pestered him to put words to what I consider a neglected anthem. I finally infuriated him by declaring: “Scots write great tunes. Let’s leave the lyrics to the Irish.”
After uttering such heresy my challenge was met:
“Side by side we stand together ‘Neath the flag of blue and white: We salute you now and ever, and our souls are filled with pride...”
You’ve heard the tune, of course. It’s a staple of hatches, matches and dispatches. It’s been adopted as the official anthem of the Governor General of Canada. But few are aware of the words or the polymath who penned them.
At the 1967 Mod he won the Bardic Crown for his poem, Maol Donn, and the Gold Medal for singing. A feat that hadn’t been achieved before, and is unlikely to be in the future.
Norman Maclean was a consummate reveller. Social occasions began with contemplations on Ossianic poetry. Followed by 26-hour booze-fuelled rodeos that would test the endurance of Superman on kryptonite.
One morning I was feeling less than human when his wife Peigi was halfway through a vocal rendition of When Mexico Gave Up the Rhumba, accompanied by Norman on the pipes. A sharp knock was heard at the door. There stood two of Strathclyde’s finest. It transpired they were leading lights of Strathclyde Police Pipe Band. Norman’s hand was shaken and selfies taken before they shuffled out, pleased to have played cameo roles in a Norman Maclean tale.
A superb mimic, many of Norman’s comic routines were masterpieces of surrealism. If only he’d wowed the Hampstead set, Melvyn might’ve given him a slot on The South Bank Show.
Cliché mongers called him Gaeldom’s Billy Connolly. In fact, he was heavily influenced by New York Jewish humour. Indeed, he modelled his technique on the Greenwich Village comedian Brother Theodore, a cult figure whose monologues were called “stand-up tragedy”.
“Uncle Norman” died in 2017, and I suspected that My Land would duly emerge as a contender for Scotland’s unofficial national anthem.
Well, it hasn’t quite happened.
As much as I possess a fondness for Flower of Scotland, personal bias compels me to state: My Land should be our anthem.
I concede there’s stiff competition out there.
Wild Mountain Thyme, especially when sung by the estimable Eddi Reader has a sweet resonance. And then there’s These Are My Mountains. Written by the poet Jimmy Copeland, father of the actor James Cosmo.
Whatever peculiar alchemy is required to establish an anthem, may the musical gods bring it forth.
As New Year beckons and songs are belted out in inebriated celebration, pipers across the planet will bring in 2021, saluting the memory of a man who helped and encouraged so many.
Brian McGeachan is an author and playwright.
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