Caledonia

 

In the aftermath of devolution, Scottish Theatre has been quick to
pick up on questions of national identity (far quicker than the mass media, I believe, which is conducting the debate in simplistic terms,in my opinion). Darien is a particularly difficult issue in terms ofidentity- it was a disastrous venture that combined poor economicsense with a colonial spirit. Approaching the issue must be adifficult task- so what is it that made you consider it as a topic?

It all started with an invitation from the National Theatre of Scotland to write a new play for them. Initially, I planned to write about contemporary politics, focusing on two issues: nationalism and the banking crisis. While thinking about this I came upon a reference to the Darien venture. It rang a faint bell from schooldays in Glasgow, so I started doing some reading and research and quickly realised that this was an extraordinary story that needed to be told. Its power for me lies in its contemporary echoes.

 

This is both a play about seventeenth century Scotland and a play about now. It involves national euphoria and a near-crazed belief that Scotland could become a rich and powerful country almost overnight. It’s hard not to think of recent events in Iceland, a country which till recently some saw as a model for Scotland. And then, the title was suddenly obvious – Caledonia being the name that the settlers gave to their doomed colony. So that’s how Caledonia the play was born.

Within the festival, there are themes of old and new world,colonialism and nationhood. How does Darien fit within the Festival,and were you conscious of the Festival's atmosphere when creating thework?

I think it’s rarely a good idea to write a play in order to fit a particular theatre or appeal to a particular audience. You simply never know for sure what is going to please an audience. I’m really thrilled that the play sits perfectly within the frame of this year’s International Festival, but to be honest it’s just a happy chance.

Having worked for television, is there anything about this storythat makes it more a theatrical than small screen subject?

Yes. Lots. I can imagine Caledonia being made into a major motion picture (as they say) but really its sweep is too wide, its canvas too vast to fit comfortably on to the small screen. In the theatre you can take an audience on a journey of the imagination without having to spend a hundred million dollars along the way. Not that Caledonia is on a toytown budget.

In fact, it’s quite a spectacular show, with elements of song and dance as well as the more traditional dramatic stuff. Caledonia deals with huge themes and tells a big story. It is true epic theatre.

You have a reputation for politically charged work, and satire. Does Darien provide a good foundation for the critique of modern politics?

Oh, yes. It’s a story in its own right, of course – tragic and moving, and also grotesquely funny in places. It is not an open assault on politics, though. It’s more a revelation of how some things don’t change. In Caledonia we see petty but vicious rivalries between England and Scotland, bankers who lose everyone’s money but not their own, and MPs who are only too happy to be wined and dined into voting the right way. Ring any bells?

Do you see Darien as a turning point for the Scottish nation? It appears to have precipitated the Act of Union, and certainly undermined the very confidence that led to the project in the firstplace.

I’m sure historians will argue about this for centuries to come (assuming for the moment that mankind has got centuries left). I’m a writer not an historian, so my task, I suppose, is to offer an interpretation that’s defensible in terms of Scottish history, but also permits me some kind of dramatic shape. Having buried myself in documentation about Darien for much of last year, I’ve come to the view that the Darien disaster was indeed a turning point for the nation.

In an age when men would routinely die in large numbers during long voyages, the death toll of around two thousand was probably not as shocking then as it would be now. The real damage, I think, was to national wealth and to national self-confidence. The sheer demoralisation brought on by the failure of the Darien Colony left the nation stunned and weak and only too ready for union with England. It’s maybe not fanciful to suggest that a certain grim and joyless pessimism that has long been detectable in Scottish society (It’s normally attributed to the Reformation) can also be traced back to Darien.

I think the Darien disaster left behind a nation that was a little in love with failure. Interestingly, devolution seems to have turned the tide. Scotland now strikes me as a more cheerful, optimistic and energetic culture than the one in which I grew up.