We're weel kent for pithiness in this part of the world. For summing up our fellows, often to their detriment, in concise, cutting phrases. But there's canniness in our efforts at equalisation; "The time to measure a tree is when it's doon." Thus Brian Morton's gaffer in the days when schoolboy Morton earned a surreptious bob in the forestry line.

Robin Jenkins may no longer be with us, but the echoes of his passing rightly linger. Morton's is the third of a series of lectures to mark the long life and prodigious output of one of Scotland's best-loved and finest novelists.

The fact it's possible to have conversations about Robin Jenkins' books with complete strangers, drouthy neebors, academics and fellow writers is a small indication of Jenkins' ability to communicate the complex simply. He was and remains a genuinely "accessible" author, capable of distilling truth with deceptive ease. Part of this ability may owe something to Jenkins' travels in Afghanistan, Spain and elsewhere, and to the continuing tradition of story-telling which also exists furth of Scotland.

Morton cited the stories accreting to the Baal Shem Tov, the Chassidic rabbi whose concern for nature foreshadowed that of the western world, which Jenkins added to his already extensive knowledge of narrative tradition. What Jenkins brought to this party, Morton suggested, was an even-handed appreciation of human imperfectability. Although many of Jenkins' novels and characters wrestle with moral dilemmas, they are presented as entirely human ones, their resolution as necessarily imperfect as the "world" in which they occur.

Jenkins himself, however, both as novelist and human, possessed a very clear moral compass, which governs his writing but which is never allowed to dominate his characters or their response to the situations they find themselves in. To this extent, Jenkins is an author of almost Dostoyevskyian proportion, offering the reader the case notes but deferring the judgement to them. Morton compared Jenkins' output to that of Stanley Middleton, perhaps even more in need of re-appraisal than Jenkins.

The previous evening A. L. Kennedy called for a serious look at enjoyment and appreciation, especially of stories, and for a recognition of their continuing value for all of us. Morton's long-time friend, John Robin Jenkins, John to those who knew him well, "Harry Worth" to those he taught in the nineteen fifties and sixties, Robin Jenkins to those of us who merely bought and loved the books, may be "doon" in the mortal sense, but mighty plants continue to nurture the forest even after their apparent demise. They fertilise the soil, offer nurture to humbler life, continue to affect the biosphere in myriad ways. Both the spirit and example of Robin Jenkins' humane, uncondescending, razor-sharp sensibilities live on, a challenge and inspiration to further generations of Scottish and other writers.

Aug 12 at 20:00

Copyright Bill Dunlop August 2008

Published on EdinburghGuide.com August 2008