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A review by fictionfan
At the Loch of the Green Corrie by Andrew Greig
3.0
Timor mortis conturbat me, part 2...
At his last meeting with renowned Scottish poet Norman MacCaig, MacCaig laid a charge on Andrew Greig to make a journey after MacCaig's death to his beloved Assynt in the north west of Scotland, and there to fish in the Loch of the Green Corrie. This is the story of that trip, mixed with Greig's memories of and musings on MacCaig and his own life.
I've said this before, but my rating system is not an indicator of quality but simply of my enjoyment or otherwise of a particular book. In terms of quality, this book deserves more and plenty of people have loved or will love it. So I've gone with 3 stars even though I didn't enjoy it at all.
I often recycle the titles I use for reviews, and I knew what the title for this one would be before I was more than a few chapters in: Timor mortis conturbat me – the fear of death confounds me. I also knew I had used the title before, so checked to see when. Turns out it was when I reviewed the only other book of Greig's that I have read, In Another Light.
Greig writes of MacCaig's declining years, of the loss of his mountaineering friend Malcolm Duff, of his own near miss when he suffered from a cyst in his brain, of his father's death. He tells us of his breakdown following a failed relationship, when he ended up in a psychiatric hospital after attempting suicide. I found the whole thing deeply depressing.
Most people of my age have lost people we loved and recognise that we're closer to death than birth, and we all deal with it differently. Greig writes it out of his system and does so very well. Many people read about it and find comfort and strength from the recognition of common experience. I know already how grief feels and that it passes or lessens in time, and find no benefit or comfort in reflecting endlessly on my own past losses or anyone else's. Timor mortis has never confounded me particularly – I'm more of an eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die type. So Greig and I are simply not a good match. And that's not a criticism of either of us.
I abandoned this one at 30%, and won't be attempting to read any more of his books. But I'm still happy to recommend them to the many people who find some kind of comfort or insight in having the experience of mortality and loss reflected back to them.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
At his last meeting with renowned Scottish poet Norman MacCaig, MacCaig laid a charge on Andrew Greig to make a journey after MacCaig's death to his beloved Assynt in the north west of Scotland, and there to fish in the Loch of the Green Corrie. This is the story of that trip, mixed with Greig's memories of and musings on MacCaig and his own life.
I've said this before, but my rating system is not an indicator of quality but simply of my enjoyment or otherwise of a particular book. In terms of quality, this book deserves more and plenty of people have loved or will love it. So I've gone with 3 stars even though I didn't enjoy it at all.
I often recycle the titles I use for reviews, and I knew what the title for this one would be before I was more than a few chapters in: Timor mortis conturbat me – the fear of death confounds me. I also knew I had used the title before, so checked to see when. Turns out it was when I reviewed the only other book of Greig's that I have read, In Another Light.
Greig writes of MacCaig's declining years, of the loss of his mountaineering friend Malcolm Duff, of his own near miss when he suffered from a cyst in his brain, of his father's death. He tells us of his breakdown following a failed relationship, when he ended up in a psychiatric hospital after attempting suicide. I found the whole thing deeply depressing.
Most people of my age have lost people we loved and recognise that we're closer to death than birth, and we all deal with it differently. Greig writes it out of his system and does so very well. Many people read about it and find comfort and strength from the recognition of common experience. I know already how grief feels and that it passes or lessens in time, and find no benefit or comfort in reflecting endlessly on my own past losses or anyone else's. Timor mortis has never confounded me particularly – I'm more of an eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die type. So Greig and I are simply not a good match. And that's not a criticism of either of us.
I abandoned this one at 30%, and won't be attempting to read any more of his books. But I'm still happy to recommend them to the many people who find some kind of comfort or insight in having the experience of mortality and loss reflected back to them.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com