Tonight like many
other English men and women the blogger will toast the immortal memory of
Robert Burns, the Scottish poet.
This is notwithstanding the imminent referendum on a divorce between the
two largest nations of this island.
The English are however of a generous spirit and notwithstanding the
insults and resentment of Scottish nationalism, we are big enough to continue
to commemorate our shared British heritage.
What further
demonstrates this generosity of spirit is that Rabbie Burns himself seems often
to have seethed with an anti-English and anti-establishment resentment. How unlike that other great Scot of
letters, Sir Walter Scott!
Notwithstanding that
tone of bitterness that one can detect in poems such as “A Man’s a Man for all
That”, one cannot deny the sensitivity of spirit that speaks to us in poems
such as “To a Mouse” or songs such as “My Luve is like a Red, Red Rose”. This sensitivity was somewhat betrayed
by Burns in his own life of being false to true love in matters of the heart and
his own principles when he became an Excise Officer, extracting tax on behalf
of an establishment he claimed to despise. Some might describe him as a man of contradictions, which is
perhaps a euphemism for hypocrite.
Whereas Rabbie Burns
seems sometimes to be bitter, Si Walter Scott was able to identify with
affection the characteristics of the different cultures of these islands. Indeed Sir Walter Scott was able to
create an affectionate portrait of the different extremes of Scottish culture,
from the Highland bandit Rob Roy to the Lowland businessman, Mr Jarvie. He was also able to feel deep affection
for English heritage and culture, as we can see from Ivanhoe. His characterisations show that he
understands both the forces and ideals that drive men as well as their
limitations. We see the
limitations of the tribal Highland culture in Rob Roy’s brutal wife and the
limitations of nationalism, which turns to fanaticism in the character of Fergus
Mac-Ivor. Whereas Rabbie Burns
sometimes seems judgemental in that he holds society to a higher standard than
that by which he lived himself, Scott shows an understanding of the frailties
of human nature and portrays these faults not with gall, but with sympathy.
It does seem churlish
to criticise the immortal memory today and would defeat the point of the
argument were I to do so; rather I am arguing that we should show Scott’s
sympathy for human nature in toasting a flawed character who probably would
have resented us. Thus, in the
generous spirit of that other Scotsman, Sir Walter Scott, let us toast the
immortal memory of a great romantic poet who belongs to all of us, English and
Scottish – Rabbie Burns!
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