Identity and nationalism in Magnus Macintyre's Whirligig

Immediately, the problem of identity that was just a question in the first line is complemented by passages that touch upon nationalism:

He did not like her imputation that he was less of a Scot than her. He was half Scottish, as his mother reminded him whenever they came of these trips to Scotland… Anyway, he thought, this girl could be no more than half Scottish [Macintyre 2013: 11].

Nationalism is a good vehicle for explaining the author’s ideas about identities, as nationality seems to be one of the easiest ways to attribute a person to a specific group. However, as we can see in the novel, this method does not always work well and people’s selfidentification may often vary from how they are defined by others. Generally speaking, this can be attributed to the complexity of today’s world where globalisation leads to the shifts of mentalities, habits, traditions, etc. Nationalism may be a response to that as well. Yet, in Whirligig , it is portrayed as something completely irrational.

In the prologue, we see two children who are essentially the same (half-Scottish) but one of whom thinks the other is less entitled to dancing the reel. The situation is complicated somehow by other facts about the characters: Claypole has ‘ electrically ginger hair ’ and a stereotypically Scottish name – Gordon, because of which he is perceived as ‘ a Jock’ in England where he lives. At the same time, Coky is half-Indian and has black hair, and obviously does not look Scottish. As readers, we are pushed to wonder if these things really matter – after all, these are just two children who will not get along and play together because they do not specifically like each other. Here, nationalism is equated to children’s being mean – something unreasonable and generally not nice.

However, it is not just children who face such problems, as we find out later in the novel. Many of the characters pretend to be something they are not because they want to fit in with the society around them or because they have had some traumatic experiences in the past.

For instance, we learn that both Claypole and Coky are not using their proper names – Gordon and Cocaine respectively. For Claypole, it is probably because he does not want to be seen as a Scot because he has very few ties to the country and its culture – he even dyed his hair black to be as far from the stereotypical Scottish as possible.

For Coky, it is more obvious – it is hard to feel comfortable when you introduce yourself as Cocaine. Besides, this name was an invention of her father who left the family. Coky probably does not want to associate with him and his culture – not so much Indian as international hippy (interestingly enough, up to some point Claypole believed Coky was a Lithuanian name [Macintyre 2013: 228]). Instead, she chooses to be Scottish because this is where she grew up and where she belongs, just like Claypole is pretending to be English or generally British.

As we find out later in the book, Coky’s identity as a Scot is always challenged by other Scots – the people of Loch Garvach who have known her for many years see her ‘brown face’ and ask things like “ Have you come far ?” and whether she needed more clothing because the climate was too cold for her [Macintyre 2013: 200]. This is probably the most prominent demonstration of the conflict between how people assign themselves vs how others see them.

Coky and Claypole are not the only people whose identities are somehow challenged or shifted. For instance, Claypole’s mother “ had, for her own convenience, dropped her Glaswegian accent ” [Macintyre, 2013: 11]. Lachlan thoroughly conceals the fact that he is Peregrine’s son, and Milky would not admit he is just a violent thug rather than a peace-loving hippie.

However, the character with the most confusing views and attitudes towards identity is probably Peregrine. He is a laird of Loch Garvach, i.e. he is a Scot, yet he denies it: “ The Scots – the real Scots, not people like me who were educated in England… ” [Macintyre 2013: 32]. This quote of his implies that his identity also shifted – he does not feel Scottish and he does not want to.

Throughout the book, he puts down the views, traditions, habits, etc, of the locals of Loch Garvach. He seems to disapprove of nationalism: “ I suppose being Scottish is pretty ghastly, so the only thing they’ve got is being more Scottish than someone else ” [Macintyre 2013: 33]. At the same time, Peregrine sometimes expresses the ideas that are typical of Scottish nationalists: “ Union has never really worked ” and “ Even under torture no Scot would admit to being British ” [Macintyre 2013: 69]. He is trying desperately to separate himself from his countrymen, yet he still is one of them.

Peregrine is not a character intended to be likeable, thus, his views are a jumble of various theories that he decides to apply or not depending on his own benefit or whim. He will be a nationalist if it suits him, otherwise, he will be a citizen of the world. Generally speaking, he really does not care about Scotland or the Scots: “ The problem isn’t the place or even the blasted weather. It’s the people. <…> Posh Scots are terrible.” [Macintyre 2013: 69].

Thus, through the main characters of the book, we can understand the key identity problems of today’s world: a) some people do not want to be what they are, b) some people want to belong to a certain group but are not accepted by its members, and c) some people do not care much about identities, yet they are willing to use them if it can benefit them.

Another thing I would like to explore in this article is the way identities and nationalism are depicted in Loch Garvach, the place that, according to Peregrine, is a backwards place filled with people who hate outsiders. There are several things that we may notice: just as Claypole arrives, he sees a road sign in Gaelic. When he asks Peregrine about the language, he answers it was just for the tourists. This fact alone shows us that the place is not as backwards as McGilp wanted us to think – firstly, there are tourists coming in, and secondly, how can super-Scots treat their indigenous language so lightly?

Another curious thing about Loch Garvach is that despite being remote, it is pretty well connected to the outside world. For instance, Dorcas watches the Dubai (snooker) Championships. She also has several books written by foreign authors or about non-Scottish things, including a book of seventeenth-century Persian poetry translated into French – definitely not something you may expect to find in a backwards town in Scotland.

Dorcas is an exception, however – she is a loner, she has had a much better education than anyone else, and she lives in the woods, away from other people. Yet, unlike Peregrine, she is deeply sympathetic and wise, i.e. the reader is supposed to see her views as correct and rational. Interestingly enough, she claims that Scottish people mostly vote for the Nationalists because of the Braveheart movie [Macintyre 2013: 121]. This is an interesting observation: she does not think that the feud of Scottish nationalists and the rest of the world (especially English) is not fuelled by some historical events but rather by a popular contemporary film – an American film (Mel Gibson's accent is then described as Australian-Scots, i.e. not the real Scots). This somehow makes the nationalist ideas sound unnatural if not ridiculous.

This point is strengthened throughout the novel pretty intricately – the author does not simply claim that nationalism is bad and multiculturalism or globalism is good. Instead, he mentions things that people do, use, enjoy, or consume and carefully throws in national adjectives or just words that have clear national connotations.

For instance, Claypole arrives at Bonnie Straughan’s house in a Merc – a German car. Bonnie’s house is decorated to look like a Middle Eastern bazaar, and the drink Bonnie offers Claypole is the Zinfandel wine, which is mostly produced in California. The dog she has is an English mastiff named Zeus (also far from any Scottish equivalent).

There are more examples to prove this point. The tourists that come to McGilp to shoot grouse are Americans. The guests at his party are also impressive: one, for instance, composes electronic pop for Israeli transsexuals [Macintyre 2013: 215]. Milky and Lachlan are considering going to eat some Pad Thai [Macintyre 2013: 244]. When Milky talks about the ‘magic’ mushrooms he took, they also have a national component: Venezuelan Redcap, Bavarian Blackbonnet [Macintyre 2013: 139]. The hippie camp on the shore of the loch is named Lochstock, inspired by Woodstock – a festival in the US [Macintyre 2013: 124]. Claypole’s new friends in the epilogue are saving up for holidays in Goa or to buy mojitos and caparinhas for their girlfriends – not beers and whisky [Macintyre 2013: 296]. When Claypole rushed to save Peregrine from Milky, he imagined he was Rambo – not some Scottish or even English hero.

What the author achieves here is showing that even in the remotest places people could enjoy the benefits of globalisation, even if they are perceived as backwards and hostile to everything new and foreign. The residents of Loch Garvach actually love being connected to the wider world.

As Claypole is the protagonist of the novel, it is interesting to see how his identity evolves over time. We know that in the beginning he did not want to acknowledge his Scottish side and refused to use his first name. He seemed to be pretty cosmopolitan as he lived in London, one of the most diverse cities in the world. Moreover, his business was essentially promoting the works of a Hungarian refugee artist Vidor Vincze. When it became obvious that Claypole failed in Loch Garvach, he thought he would have to move to Australia to his uncle. This though, however, filled him with despair – everything he knew about this country was contrary to what his heart desired. Claypole could become an Australian – there are no obstacles to that, except that he does not want it. This is also important – the idea is that you do not have to be what you do not want to be, just like Coky does not want to be an Indian.

It seems that Claypole, for some reason, has always wanted to be a Scot, he just felt he was not entitled, or, perhaps, it was just a childhood trauma from what happened in the prologue. In the epilogue, however, this conflict is resolved: we may notice an important change – Claypole starts calling himself Gordon. He accepts his Scot-tishness and he understands who he is.

To sum up, identity plays a big part in Magnus Macintyre’s Whirligig. It touches on the topic that has been around for ages: finding one’s place in the world and it poses the eternal questions of “Who am I as a person?” and “Who are we as a society?” that are be- coming more and more acute in today’s globalised world where nations and cultures not only contact but mix, which occasionally results in the growth of nationalist ideas and xenophobia. In my opinion, what Whirligig tells us about this is that globalisation – just like the environmentalist movement – may lead to some confusion and problems, yet it also yields some benefits people have been fighting for for centuries. Nationalism and general backwardness are just bringing this progress to naught.