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As Scotland prepares for its Homecoming, Kirstin lnnes throws off her Presbyterian shackles and takes a bird's eye view of the great, late Bard's legacy
our skinny boys stare up at a mountain. The mountain stares back at them. The hairiest one throws his arms out and roars:
‘Does it not make you proud to be Scottish?’; the
prettiest one looks up from his vodka bottle. and hurls back bile. It's been 13 years since Danny Boyle’s version
of Trainspotting exploded onto the global, pop 9
culture radar, changing the way Scotland was perceived and perceived itself. There we were.
our country blown up huge on the big screen, our °
sexiest movie star for decades in his best-ever role, looking cool and shouting: ‘It‘s shite being
Scottishl', bringing it very forcibly home that we
are a nation with more than a few identity problems.
This is the year of Homecoming, a huge re- branding campaign funded by the Scottish
Government. The massive project is being hailed
as a celebration of all the things that make our nation great; its detractors wonder if this isn‘t just a cynical exploitation of our broadest, tartan- clad, whisky-scented stereotypes. designed to lure rich, heritage-obsessed Americans (and their dollars) back to the dear auld mither-land. Perhaps criticism wouldn’t have been so rife if the campaign didn‘t feel so far removed from real Scottish life. Who hasn’t winced, watching the Homecoming television advert in which assorted (mostly ex-pat, and exclusively white) celebrities stand in front of beautiful Highland landscapes doing a karaoke version of Dougie McLean’s ‘Caledonia’? Who can forget the
image of Lulu closing her eyes to croon in faux-
Glaswegian. ‘Ah’m goin‘ hooooome’; especially 2
since it was later revealed that her segment was filmed in London?
In a way. the level of cynicism and suspicion aimed at Homecoming, partly due to the way in which it is being marketed and the demographic it appears to be targeting. is regrettable. Whether it is successful or not in inspiring the wealthy descendants of the Highland Clearances to
‘summer‘ in Scotland. Homecoming, and the myriad events taking place under that banner between Burns Night on 25 January and St
Andrews Day on 30 November. will hopefully
at the very least encourage the Scots that do live
here to take another look at our national identity.
Homecoming pivots around the 250th anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns and the
campaign has chosen him as its figurehead. He is not without his detractors however. The conservative historian Michael Fry, writing in the Times early this year, provoked outrage by suggesting that the ‘misogynistic drunk’ Burns
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Burns as an icon of Scottishness may seem like an obvious choice — he‘s one of our greatest national exports. and has become synonymous with a certain cosy set of clichés. Better still. his shortbread tin good looks are an easy advert for the version of Brigadomz-lite Scotland still sold to tourists. complete with Highland Marys and tartan fn'ppery among the golf courses.
However. as a man. Burns is actually quite a
revolutionary ligurehead for our country. Think of the stereotypes of a Scot: dour. miserly. backwards to the point of barbarism and latterly used as comic relief. with incomprehensible accent (cf. Groundskeeper Willie in The .S'impsmzs). The joke is on us. really. as we ourselves persist in maintaining this stereotype. Look at the things we love and remember Burns for: his lyricism. his wit. his sexiness. his art and confidence. and his egalitarianism. Despite the inlidelities. his often proclaimed love