Andrew Marr's Great Scots review – opening up the awkward relationship between Scotland and England
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Version 0 of 1. Do we choose heroes who are similar to ourselves, I wonder? I'm thinking about mine – Patrick Vieira, Ernest Shackleton, and Leonard Cohen, say – without giving it too much thought. And yes, I do think I have that kind of inspirational leadership, bravery and towering strength, plus the ability to move people to tears and touch the soul. Andrew Marr also seems to have much in common with his hero, James Boswell, the first of Andrew Marr's Great Scots: The Writers Who Shaped A Nation (BBC2, Saturday). I don't know if Andrew had a difficult relationship with his father (probably, he's male, after all), or if he was a lonely boy, haunted by fears of damnation and overprotected by his mother. But, if so, he too blossomed to become flamboyant, colourful and gregarious. Like Boswell, Marr is a proud Scot who was torn between patriotism and the pull of the bright lights down south, a love of Scotland and a lust for London. When Marr says "lust" he says it lustily, like he means it. No superinjunctions for five-times-a-night Boswell, incidentally: he was extraordinarily open (by today's standards, never mind the 18th century's) about what he got up to. That said, he did clam up uncharacteristically about an altercation between his father and Samuel Johnson, the two men who meant the most to him; maybe that was his one moment of self-censorship. Plus, Marr and Boswell are/were both journalists, of course, Andy M calling Jimmy B "the father of modern journalism". At first, a portrait of a Scot who is best known for chronicling the life of an Englishman (the aforementioned Dr Johnson, the most English of Englishmen) might seem like a strange choice to open the series. But, as we go on, it begins to make perfect sense. Boswell's life, coming not long after Union, and his work capture the awkward relationship between England and Scotland – more pertinent now than ever as Scotland ponders its identity and prepares for its biggest decision in 300 years. Boswell took the most opinionated and prejudiced Englishman north of the border on a tour of enlightenment. It didn't start well – they were narrowly missed by the contents of a chamber pot being thrown from an Edinburgh window. Under turd (apologies), they pressed on to the Highlands and Skye, where Johnson finally experienced Scotland's beauty, culture and hospitality. One Scotophobe cured. Perhaps, if Marr is a 21st-century Boswell, he should have taken a modern-day Johnson along with him on his own follow-in-their-footsteps journey to Skye. Who would that be, though? Boris? He has the way with words, the politics and the figure for it, as well as the surname. Stephen Fry, maybe? Or Gyles Brandreth (I'm thinking not just of his Toryism but also his habitual appearances in Countdown's Dictionary Corner)? Actually, it's not necessary, because this programme works beautifully as it is, a lovely herogram to a man who may have been overlooked in his native Scotland but whose work and life have never been more relevant. Yes, it's just as much about an Englishman as it is about a Scot. However, as Marr says: "Less Boswell without Johnson and less Johnson without Boswell, this is perhaps the prime example in literature of two men, the Scot and the Englishman, who achieved far more together than they would ever have done had they never met." Or, you might say, a literary, historical, human union making the case for the continuation of another kind and a No vote next month. "No" came up a lot – even more than usual – in Dragon's Den (BBC2, Sunday). Husky rides? No. "I'm not looking for hobbies, I'm looking for investments," says Deborah Meaden. She's out; she's always out. The purest Colombian cacao? "In my opinion, you should have been the Three Musketeers, not D'Artagnan and his mate," Peter Jones tells the three chocolatiers. "And that's why I'm out." Whatever can he mean, though? They talk a lot of caca, pure caca, these dragons. And then they're out. Not a single investment then, until young Jordan comes along with his clever device for fixing screws to plasterboard. He's certainly got their interest… until he tests a radiator attached with them and it comes away with a gentle tug. Uh-oh. But Deborah invests anyway. Wow – I think it's the first time I've actually witnessed her part with any of her money. But also, wow that it doesn't seem to matter that these things don't actually work. I don't get business – I'm never going to be a millionaire. |