Rab McNeil
History in the making 7 December 2009 Of course, it comes as no surprise that an attempt to educate Scots about their history has set this nation of nincompoops at each other’s throats. In particular, the debate has degenerated into excellent personal abuse between the presenter, Neil Oliver, and his academic critic, Professor Tom Devine. I’d like to claim Prof Devine as one of my best friends, but the truth is I’ve never met him and suspect he wouldn’t like me much. Although I’m not as dumb as I look – and, let’s face it, that would take some doing – I fear he’d consider me a lightweight, even with my “O” level in technical drawing. Neil, on the other hand, is genuinely an old friend. I’ve shared many beers with him and know that he’s an astute and highly intelligent fellow who didn’t get where he is today by flapping his arms and periodically shouting “Wibble!” Like I do. The stushie started when Prof Devine criticised Neil’s alleged Braveheart-style appearance, just because he has long hair. Nearly every letter since has focused on Neil’s long hair, as if it precluded him from knowing anything about Scottish history. Neil replied that the prof was “plump”, which doesn’t seem entirely accurate from the photographs I have seen. He is, it is true, heavy with gravitas, but that is not the same as being plump per se. The prof didn’t take kindly to Neil’s allegation that he was a bloater, which is a bit rich, considering that he started it. So, as far as I’m concerned, the good prof may consider his buttocks defenestrated on this one, and I’m not just saying that because Neil’s a mate. As for the series itself, I haven’t seen all of it but what I have seen has been excellent and engrossing. I hadn’t necessarily expected it to be so, particularly knowing Neil’s political views as I did (he’s not exactly a raving Nat, as I recall). Other former acquaintances and I – admittedly, I haven’t spoken to Neil for years; indeed not since he became famous – got together recently and were of similar mind. The series was passionately presented, the script was interesting and well-paced, the filming beautiful. All right, it’s not an Open University programme. But, to say the least, it’s a decent popular history. And Neil was the perfect man for the job. He’s a presentable presenter and has a degree in archaeology, which is just history with mud attached. Bear in mind, too, that friends generally ridicule the efforts of friends, particularly where these have become famous. But we thought the series really good. That a bunch of academics – ask any journalist to name the stupidest people they ever encounter and they will always say “academics, except John Curtice” – are now splitting hairs over the existentialism of the Covenanters only makes the case for keeping these buggers away from television as much as possible. Left to them, we’d have got verbalised exegeses based on their own internecine battles and, if we were lucky, a few pie-charts to illustrate the irrelevant minutiae with which they were obsessed. Would we want our television history presented by a faceless individual armed with footnotes and syphilis of the personality? Ladies and gentleman, we would not. Do we like our history presented by an intelligent, personable communicator with a prepossessing appearance and a passion for his subject? Yes, we do! To be fair, Prof Devine does not meet the unfortunate stereotype so irresponsibly presented above. He seems to have a healthy personality and writes well enough to capture the public imagination. I think maybe he wanted to see something a bit more intellectually challenging. But you have to dumb down a wee bit for telly. There’s no escaping that fact. Believe me, I speak as a former television critic. I was late in catching the first series of A History of Scotland (I saw it when it was replayed on satellite) and was amused to see Neil giving it laldy. I remember him saying at one point something like: “The English did what they always do. They rrran [CORR] away.” When it was announced that the series would be shown in England, too, I imagined Neil saying: “Oh, shit!” Of course, Neil does not roll his r’s so chronically in reality-style life. Indeed, his real voice is more like that of Sir Anthony Eden, and my understanding is that, outwith his day-job, he is in much demand to do voice-overs for radio adaptations of PG Wodehouse novels. I haven’t yet seen the edition of the series that deals with 1707 and don’t know if it’s been shown yet – I’m not really a telly person, to be honest – but if it’s true, as some allege, that it claims Scotland was in a right mess until saved by the Union, then rest assured my boot will be swinging with unstoppable force towards Neil’s buttocks. Otherwise, the nation should be tousling his controversial hair and saying: “Well done, son.” Related articles: Politics and principles 3 September 2010 Hello voters 25 June 2010 Off the menu 11 June 2010 Life but not as we know it 28 May 2010 Magnetic result 17 May 2010 See all articles in this category Submit a comment |
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