“Tha’s a Sad Name”: Remember the Rowan by Kirsten McQuarrie

“Tha’s a Sad Name”: Remember the Rowan by Kirsten McQuarrie a review by Kavan P. Stafford

Remember the Rowan [Ringwood Publishing, £12.99],  the new novel by Kirsten MacQuarrie depicting the real-life relationship between “poetess” Kathleen Raine and naturalist Gavin Maxwell, would be of great value even if all it achieved was to bring attention to Raine as one of the many mostly-forgotten female writers of the 20th century. In fact, it is a beautifully written book in which, reminiscent of Hilary Mantel at her best, McQuarrie uses the real lives of historical figures as a jumping-off point to write a touching and engaging story of poetry and writing, of the inspirational power of nature and of an all-encompassing, overwhelming love. 

The protagonist of Rowan, the poet Kathleen Raine (1908 – 2003) is in medias res when we first encounter her at the beginning of McQuarrie’s four-hundred-page narrative. She is presented to us apparently fully formed. She has been married and divorced twice, she has two children who (like other prominent women authors of the time such as Muriel Spark) she has left in the care of relatives in order to focus on her writing, and she is a respected and celebrated poet, though not yet at the height of her fame. She lives alone and seems the picture of independence. This changes when her agent Tambi, an entertaining character, introduces her to Gavin Maxwell.

One of the interesting narrative choices made by McQuarrie is that, while Raine is first shown when she is already successful, Maxwell (1914 – 1969), who is likely to be the better known of the two to the reader from the 1969 film The Ring of Bright Water, based on his 1960 book of the same name, is first shown as a struggling portrait artist. Aristocratic but essentially a nobody. Despite what we might expect, then, it is Raine who takes him under her wing professionally and helps him to develop his writing talent. 

The reversals of clichés continue as their relationship develops. Maxwell is handsome and charming, and this leads very quickly to an intense attraction on the part of Raine. However, he is also gay, unspeakable and illegal at the time in which the book is set, and so cannot return her infatuation. Despite this, Raine nurses an intense love for him which persists  throughout the rest of his life until his death in 1969 despite his hot-and-cold attitude towards her. 

The relationship between Maxwell and Raine is stormy, and Maxwell is so domineering that a lesser novel may have allowed him to dominate the narrative also, but MacQuarrie keeps Raine centred throughout. The use of the first person keeps us firmly in Raine’s head and it is her feelings towards Maxwell, rather than his towards her, which take centre stage. This allows the novel to become an engaging exploration of a toxic relationship from the woman’s point of view, with love and attraction mingled with a not-inconsiderable underlying fear of violence which MacQuarrie takes pains to depict, such as when Raine considers hiding from a drunken Maxwell in their shared flat:

“Don’t answer, my horrified reflection cautions me. Let him think

you gave up and left. I know us well enough by now to understand 

that little good is likely to come from out being in each other’s

company like this […] Even with total sobriety, it has been a

long time since we brought out the best in one another.” (p. 289)

This interaction is imagined but, throughout the novel, MacQuarrie makes good use of primary sources, including letters and biographies (a librarian by profession, she includes a bibliography of sources at the back of the novel) to enrich the narrative. However, in choosing instead to imagine wholesale some of the more private dynamics and moments in the book, MacQuarrie takes her work to a level above simple biography. 

Some of her best attempts at this are the occasions when she tackles the issues of social class which are so prevalent in the relationship between Raine and Maxwell, Maxwell being of aristocratic stock. In particular, a funny and heartbreaking sequence of chapters depicting an imagined visit to Maxwell’s family home stand out. Raine is shocked at “the silent stream of servants” (p. 82) and mortified when she realises that she was expected to pack formal clothing for dinner: “I was wearing the newest, most expensive item in my wardrobe when Gavin innocently looked right through it and asked what I planned to change into” (p. 93).

A particular standout in this sequence is Lady Mary, Maxwell’s grim-faced (towards Raine at least) and somewhat Oedipal mother whose snobbery and dislike of Raine MacQuarrie takes great pleasure in depicting. A scene in Chapter Eleven in which Lady Mary instructs Raine in no uncertain terms not to dedicate poetry to Maxwell lest “anyone […] get the wrong idea” and Raine’s fiercely independent rejection of the order would bring a smile to any reader’s face.

Where McQuarrie really shines, however, is in her descriptions of nature in which she frequently seems to channel Lewis Grassic Gibbon. Her descriptions of Sandaig, the real life version of the imagined Camusfearna of Gavin Maxwell’s own books, are evocative and beautifully written. As Raine explores the area and finds a waterfall, MacQuarrie writes:

I had expected one torrential cascade but find myself faced with a 

multitude, like seeing the inner workings of a mind trying to hold a 

thousand fast-flowing ideas at once. […] Awe-inspiringly intricate, this

network seems to me a triumph of natural engineering that man

could never hope to match: breathtaking in its complex power

and transformative in sheer beauty” (p. 130)

The book is laden with descriptions like these, revealing the deep love of the land evidently shared by author and subject. Whether describing animals, like the unforgettable otter Mij, or the landscape itself, The Rowan transports the reader with beautiful prose to the degree that the sequences set in central London or America can seem bland by comparison. 

“Tha’s [sic] a sad name”, says one of the twin boys living near Sandaig when Raine tells him hers (p. 121). This is a sad book in a lot of ways as well. But in its sadness is a real beauty which reveals MacQuarrie as the new author to watch for the Scottish audience. There is no doubt she will have more for us in future. In the meantime, however, Remember the Rowan is not to be missed.