A memoir and investigation exploring loss, community and the climate crisis in the Shetland Islands by environmental journalist Marianne Brown
When Marianne Brown arrived in Voe, Shetland, to attend the funeral of her father, she had packed enough clothes to last a short trip. But this was February 2020, just weeks before the UK’s first lockdown, and she would be unable to leave for another six months.
Shetland is a place bound together by community, history and culture. But when a huge windfarm is greenlit to export energy to mainland Scotland, it creates rifts between neighbours, friends and even families. One side supports the benefit to a planet spiralling into climate disaster; the other challenges the impact on an environment with an already struggling wildlife population.
As an environmental journalist, Marianne is drawn to investigate this story of sustainable energy that is irrevocably tied to her grief. But nothing is ever straightforward, and she soon finds herself on a transformative journey into the heart of a debate that mirrors global concerns about how we save the planet.
I couldn’t get on with the writing style, having been initially interested by the subject matter of the climate and cultural urgencies affecting Shetland, one of my favourite places. I felt as if I was being lectured to.
The Shetland Way by Marianne Brown is a poignant and timely exploration of sustainability, grief, and community. Part memoir, part investigative narrative, the book intricately weaves the author’s personal journey with broader global debates about climate change, renewable energy, and the often-overlooked human cost of environmental progress.
When Marianne arrives in Shetland to attend her father’s funeral, she unknowingly embarks on a longer and more profound stay than anticipated, thanks to the COVID-19 lockdowns. In these isolated islands, she finds herself grappling with her grief and becoming enmeshed in the heated debates surrounding the construction of a massive wind farm. The project promises sustainable energy and climate benefits but threatens Shetland’s fragile ecosystems, wildlife, and traditional way of life.
What I loved about the book: Marianne Brown excels at capturing the complexities of the issues at hand. Her perspective as an environmental journalist brings both depth and nuance to the narrative. She delves into the paradoxes of renewable energy: the necessity of sustainable practices versus the unintended consequences they bring to communities and ecosystems.
The human element is profoundly present. Brown gives voice to individuals on both sides of the debate, enabling readers to empathize with their struggles and convictions. Her reflections on grief and her father’s legacy provide a deeply personal and emotional anchor to the story, making the larger environmental themes feel even more urgent and relatable.
The Shetland setting itself is vividly depicted—its windswept landscapes, rich cultural history, and tight-knit communities come alive on the page. Brown’s descriptions make it clear how much is at stake for the people and the environment they cherish.
What could have been improved: While the book provides an insightful exploration of the tensions between progress and preservation, some readers may find the pacing uneven. The personal and investigative elements sometimes feel slightly disconnected, and a tighter integration of these threads might have enhanced the overall flow.
Additionally, while Brown's analysis is thorough, readers unfamiliar with the technical aspects of wind energy and environmental policies might benefit from more simplified explanations to ground the discussion further.
Overall: The Shetland Way is an elegant and thought-provoking read that encourages reflection on our choices and their impact on the world around us. It’s a story of loss, hope, and the interconnectedness of humanity and nature. Marianne Brown’s ability to tackle complex topics with sensitivity and grace makes this book essential reading for anyone interested in climate issues, community dynamics, and the human experience.
Whether you’re deeply familiar with sustainability debates or new to the conversation, this book offers a compelling and accessible entry point. It’s both a call to action and a reminder of the difficult decisions we face in our collective effort to balance the needs of the planet with those of its people. Highly recommended!
In the main, this is a well researched enquiry into the ecological and social effects of wind farm development on Shetland - particularly referencing the Viking energy field. This is woven around a reflection on family roots on the island following the death of the author's father. Added to the weave are descriptions of Shetland landscape, mythology, language and culture. The resulting knitwear is wearable but a bit baggy.
On the one hand The Shetland Way is an exploration of the various impacts of creating sustainable energy sources on Shetland, but it echoes the zeitgeist, paradoxes and complexities of it globally. The microcosm echoes the macrocosm. We are all aware that unless our energy use becomes more sustainable the consequences will be dire, but often, as here, producing the tools to do so has a detrimental affect on wildlife, nature and residents. The conflicts that creates, both within individual minds and between those in the communities is well explored. The fact that the world is now built on endless growth and profit, that it is so embedded in the mindsets of those who control these matters that they can’t see it, that it is largely the poor who pay, is exemplified and specified in an intelligent and insightful way. Individuals’ thoughts and experiences are examined in a perceptive and engaging manner. You find yourself putting yourself in the shoes of many of them, both for and against, and of those with more mixed emotions. I have personal experience of some of the more negative impacts of windfarms, having lived in Cornwall for many years. I would hope that those who are from more urban environments will find this book an accessible way to imagine how it must feel. Books like this are needed. It’s not an either or, none of it is black and white, there will be a price to pay whatever we do, and as ever big business largely calls the shots and makes the money. But we all need to engage more with these thorny issues and appreciate what we’re looking at. This book would be a great start for anyone who wants to have a better, more human and engaged understanding of it.
From memoir to reportage — This one hits close to home. When a parent dies, you can’t help but remember all the things that made them them. In Brown’s case, the father was a potter, not so long ago returned to his homeland of Shetland, there to pot using local materials, inspired by local landscapes. So when Brown returns to arrange his funeral, the land is proxy for the man. The timing couldn’t be worse, with Covid on its way, and other existential threats on the horizon, such as an onshore wind farm. And so it begins, the author, spouse and child begin lockdown in the late father’s house on Shetland, surrounded by his things, in full view of the graveyard, on the land where he grew up, where he lived, where he died.
In a throbbing mix of history and reportage, facts and folklore, family myths and memories, Brown conjures up a land that is both fantastical and prosaic: where trows and fairies lurk under every leaf, in every ferny hollow; where ecological catastrophe is both history and future; where community and family are the same thing. Punctuated with Brown’s reconstructed memories of the late father, with folktales and rural adventures, what starts as a meditation slowly comes into focus as a commentary on the climate emergency and how it affects Shetlanders—and therefore us—as individuals, as families, as communities.
‘The Shetland Way’ is a piece of narrative/gonzo journalism following a woman’s relationship with the Shetland Islands and her father. As well as, the islands rich culture and connection to its land, and the ecological debates that are changing the island as we read. I am from Shetland, an eco-activist and I wrote my under-graduate dissertation on how the culture of Shetland is changed by its relationship with nature. This book was literally made for me.
Brown was a beautiful and atmospheric writer, in fact the novel took me so long to read as I would feel so connected to back home, picturing and feeling the way of the islands, that I would get homesick and have to take a break. Her style of journalism is sympathetic and nuanced. She clearly engages a lot with the community and its residents to form a novel rooted in the island itself. Her own story is so cleverly weaved into the novel and engages upon so many themes that ultimately enhance the ecological arguments. I mean, how can reading about Brown’s connection to nature not want us to do more to help the planet.
This read was an easy 5 star read.
Thank you to #netgalley for this ARC of #theshetlandwaya
An interesting exploration into how we connect to place and nature; and the responses when that is threatened.
This book covers a LOT of topics. Personal grief, the climate crisis, biodiversity and conservation, identity and how ancestry affects this as well as definitions of community, democracy and corporate interests. It's an ambitious undertaking but the result leaves the reader somewhat disoriented moving between so many different themes and places.
Browns journalistic integrity and determination to present a fair balanced account of the Viking Wind farm development on Shetland shines through. However as the book is also a personal account of her relationship with the islands I had hoped by the end, she would be a little more bold and share her own thoughts and feelings on the wind farm project and why, but this was lacking.
The author, an environmental journalist, returns home to Shetland (and gets caught out there during Covid). She listens to people's stories about windfarms, climate crisis, ownership, community and family, and how these things overlap and interact. A good book to read at any time, but particularly while on holiday on Shetland.
DNF. Audiobook read by the author. Lovely accent. It is a bit unfocused. There's a bit of history, a bit of journalism and a bit of a memoir - and none of those.
Like the author my father is from Shetland, I have lots of family there, and I work on sustainability. With this background I was both interested and annoyed by this book.
It would have benefited from more sharpness (it could have been 1/2 as long) and rigour (more rigorous comparison different arguments), as well as some consideration of how Shetland compares to other peripheral regions in UK, or the world (especially Orkney which has quite a different relationship with wind power).
So, worth reading, if you are interested in Shetland or wind power conflicts, but a bit of slog with some treasures in the peat bog.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.