A BBC RADIO 2 BOOK CLUB PICK A BEST FICTION BOOK OF 2025 FOR THE GUARDIAN, THE OBSERVER, THE HERALD AND THE BBC
He will stay like this forever, Robert’s arm draped round him. They will be forever twenty.
Scotland, 1933. Bobby MacBryde is on his way. After years grafting at Lees Boot Factory, he’s off to the Glasgow School of Art, to his future. On his first day he will meet another Robert, a quiet man with loose dark curls – and never leave his side.
Together they will spend every penny and every minute devouring Glasgow – its botanical gardens, the Barras market, a whole hidden city – all the while loving each other behind closed doors. With the world on the brink of war, their unrivalled talent will take them to Paris, Rome, London. They will become stars as the bombs fall, hosting wild parties with the likes of Lucian Freud, Francis Bacon and Elizabeth Smart. But the brightest stars burn fastest.
Stunningly reimagined, The Two Roberts is a profoundly moving story of devotion and obsession, art and class. It is a love letter to MacBryde and Colquhoun, the almost-forgotten artists who tried to change the way the world sees – and paid a devastating price.
I'm a writer and broadcaster. My books are 'The Two Roberts', 'You Will Be Safe Here' and 'Maggie & Me'.
'The Two Roberts' is my second novel. Meet Robert MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun: artists, lovers, outsiders. From 1930s Glasgow to wartime London and the Fifties, this is the fictional story of two truly wild lives.
They were charismatic art celebrities - collected by major institutions, photographed by Vogue, filmed by Ken Russell for the BBC. But they lived as hard as they worked, dying young and penniless yet on the verge of a comeback.
Tender, bold and deeply personal, 'The Two Roberts' is a timely love-letter to these queer Scottish pioneers, exploring what it means to discover your voice as an artist, to find love when it’s forbidden and to change the way the world sees. Prepare to fall in love with Bobby and Robert…
'The Two Roberts' will be published by Canongate in September 2025.
'You Will Be Safe Here' is my first novel. It's set in South Africa in 1901 and now. It explores legacies of abuse, redemption and the strength of the human spirit - there is always, light even in our very darkest moments. I didn't imagine it would feel so urgent when it was published.
'South Africa, 1901, the height of the second Boer War. Sarah van der Watt and her son are taken from their farm by force to Bloemfontein Concentration Camp where, the English promise: they will be safe.
Johannesburg, 2010. Sixteen-year-old outsider Willem just wants to be left alone with his books and his dog. Worried he's not turning out right, his ma and her boyfriend send him to New Dawn Safari Training Camp. Here they 'make men out of boys'. Guaranteed.'
Inspired by real events, You Will Be Safe Here uncovers a hidden colonial history and present-day darkness while exploring our capacity for cruelty and kindness. Here's what two writers I admire say:
'Devastating and formally ingenious, it traces the paths by which historical grief engenders present violence . A vitally brave and luminously compassionate book.' Garth Greenwell.
'Damian Barr has written a novel concerned with single strain of human history, of how a people are made and unmade and how they go on to make and unmake others, of the stories they tell themselves to allow such things to pass.' Aminatta Forna.
'Maggie & Me' is my memoir of surviving small-town Scotland in the Thatcher years. It won Sunday Times Memoir of the Year: "Full to the brim with poignancy, humour, brutality and energetic and sometimes shimmering prose, the book confounds one's assumptions about those years and drenches the whole era in an emotionally charged comic grandeur. It is hugely affecting."
BBC Radio 4 made it a Book of the Week. Stonewall named me Writer of the Year 2013. In 2024 I helped turn in into a play for the National Theatre of Scotland.
I've also co-written two plays for Radio 4 and written a short after play for their Fact to Fiction slot.
From 2008-2023, I ran my own Literary Salon - interviewing fellow writers, profiling indie bookshops and share all kinds of bookish content. Guests included: Jojo Moyes, John Waters, Mary Beard, Yaa Gyasi, David Nicholls, Colm Tóibín, Taiye Selasi, David Mitchell and Rose McGowan. www.theliterarysalon.co.uk
My life is books - writing them, talking about them on tv and radio and interviewing other writers about their literary loves. I present my own books tv show on BBC - check out The Big Scottish Book Club on BBC iPlayer. You can follow me on twitter @damian_barr and insta @mrdamianbarr.
The Two Roberts by Damian Barr is a beautiful read- a story of art, love and survival.
Damian Barr has rightfully so shone the light on two incredible artists who in many ways are hidden away in the footnotes of contemporary art history. Robert MacBryde ( Bobby) and Robert Colquhoun ( Robert) were two incredible Scottish artists who rose to prominence before and during the Second World War. I've since explored their work on the web.
This is their story- a story of their love- a love forbidden and hidden by society but this is story that celebrates their defiance to be who they were. Bobby being the shining light to embrace life and step boldly where many would have not during the 1930s-1950s. Robert the more recognised as an artist- first in their year of school. But together they shared life- highs and lows.
Their story begins when meeting on their first day of Art School in Glasgow and from then on their destiny was set. This is a story of hardship and success; a story of success and failure but what shines through is their deep love- yes, volatile at time but always realising together they made a whole.
Recounting their early years at college as they discover the gay world of Glasgow and life in the attic at Mrs Cranston’s..then onto life within WWII. Life in London and entering the flamboyant world of the artists of the time; Anthony Cronin; August John; Francis Bacon; Dylan Thomas and the periphery of the Bloomsbury Group ( "The Bloomsberries") the Two Roberts navigate life with a zest and passion that never fully takes them to heights of their peers.
Life ensues in Sussex and Essex and still they pursue their dreams of recognition.
This is a book that shines a new light on two talented men and with the deserved success of of this novel a retrospective of their work has to happen. What is special is the bond between the two mens- yes, there are tragedies but they remain united and this is what makes the books special in gay literature where often couples separate and harder lessons are learned( that's not to say their life was easy)
The relationship is tender, fragile and will move readers
Damian Barr has written a book that deserves plaudits .
Highly recommended - a moving and warm read that oozes love and compassion and devotion
I confess I’d never heard of the Scottish artists Robert ‘Bobby’ MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun before reading this book and I suspect I’m not alone. How exciting though for an author to come across two people whose lives and achievements have been almost forgotten and bring them to a wider audience in an act of literary reincarnation. And to do so by imagining the thoughts and emotions of the men themselves. As Damian Barr writes in the Acknowledgements, ‘It’s the job of a novelist to know what we don’t know, to find gaps between facts to make our story.’
I felt I got to know the exuberant Bobby better than the more reserved Robert, although I can’t blame the author for falling in love with Bobby as a character, with his irrepressible energy, cheeky humour and sense of adventure.
Bobby and Robert’s passion for art burns almost as fiercely as their passion for each other, not that they don’t have their ups and downs like any relationship. Robert, as well as being physically fragile, has a tendency to withdraw into himself whereas Bobby is a man of impulse. ‘Bobby is so very alive that he is permanently alert to the pleasure in even the smallest thing. He is always being swept up in new excitement.’
I loved the way the author depicted the domestic intimacy of their relationship once they move in together, something fraught with risk given homosexuality was illegal. The author gives us a tragic example of the consequences of discovery at one point in the novel.
Funded by a scholarship of £120 awarded to Robert, in 1938 they set out for Europe to view the wondrous works of art they have only ever seen in books. In each country they visit Bobby is keen to try out his (very) rudimentary knowledge of the language. In Paris, a city filling up by the day at the prospect of war, they visit the Louvre where Bobby stares wondrously at the painting The Raft of the Medusa. In Marseilles there’s no art but there are plenty of sailors.
They return home, only to be parted when Robert is called up for military service whilst Bobby is exempted. It’s the first time they’ve been apart for years.
Two years later they’re back in London and fuelled by success. The pair enthusiastically immerse themselves in the hard-drinking lifestyle of the Soho set, rubbing shoulders with Lucian Freud, Francis Bacon, Dylan Thomas and Quentin Crisp. ‘Names, names, names. Names they read about in Horizon, New Writing, even the Evening Standard. Names that are now their friends, Well, mostly.’
And then suddenly their art is out of fashion and pretty soon they’re out of money and reliant on acquaintances to provide them with a roof over their heads and, importantly, somewhere to paint.
I found it difficult to visualise their paintings based on the verbal descriptions alone and, like many I suspect, I searched online for images. I was surprised both by the energetic use of colour but how aligned the pair clearly were in their artistic style even if it’s ‘objects for Bobby, subjects for Robert’. I also found a wonderful article on the BBC Arts website which includes an episode of the arts programme, Monitor, devoted to them (first broadcast in 1958).
You sense from the beginning that, given their lifestyle, the pair are not going to make old bones. However, I wasn’t quite prepared for how moved I was by the way in which they met their respective ends. It felt as if, rather than dying several years apart leaving one of them bereft, they should have gone together.
The Two Roberts has been described, aptly in my view, as the author’s ‘love letter’ to MacBryde and Colquhoun. I can only imagine what it must have been like for him to reach the final page of their story. Therefore I can forgive the author for including his own ‘wishful thinking’ version of their ending.
The Two Roberts is an intense, emotionally charged story of love, passion and loss.
Until this book, I had never heard of the two Roberts - Scottish painters who thrived in the post-war years and were lovers between 1933 and the death of Robert Colquhoun in 1962. I found their life stories fascinating, nay enthralling, even in this fictionalized form. [NB: there is a comprehensive non-fiction bio of them, The Last Bohemians: The Two Roberts - Colquhoun and MacBryde, which served as inspiration for this tome - but sadly it's long been out of print and impossible to find!]. Interest in their work has been spurred by the book and there was just a major retrospective of their work in a gallery in Lewes this past month.
Barr tells their story with aplomb, and his prose is perfunctory, but easy to read and enjoyable. If only James Ivory were still actively directing films, this would make an excellent subject for him to tackle - I'd cast Josh O'Conner as Colquhoun and Jack Lowden as MacBride - the actors both mildly resemble the artists.
Speaking of film, the Roberts were profiled for the BBC in 1959 by Ken Russell early in his career and the final chapter details the making of that short documentary - it's intriguing in its own right, even if one hasn't read the book: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p02j....
I do have a few niggling quibbles - often a chapter will start in medias res with no indication of who new characters are, or where we are in the story - and then 5 or 10 pages later we eventually learn the necessaries ... I HATE that, as I always think I have just forgotten things and am getting senile!
And in Part Four, which covers the years 1941 - 47, the chapter goes along chronologically, and we get to 1947 ... and then oddly, there is then a short segment detailing V-Day in 1945! Why? makes no sense to backtrack at that point, should have been incorporated earlier where it belonged
The book is gorgeously designed, and I especially like the cheeky endpapers - but why not use one of the many pictures of the real Roberts on the cover, rather than this one of some anonymous himbos?
Still, I suspect this WILL make my top 10 books of the year and it's one I especially recommend for those seeking pre-Stonewall stories of interesting gay lives. The afterward mentions a similar book about two other gay lovers/artists who were friend of the Roberts - The Visitors' Book: In Francis Bacon's Shadow: The Lives of Richard Chopping and Denis Wirth-Miller - so I ordered that to read as well.
Robert Colquhoun and Bobby MacBryde were celebrated artists whose heyday covered the late 1930s to the 1950s when tastes changed and the two artists fell out of favour ending their career in poverty.
I knew nothing about the two painters when I began this novel (and it is, Damien Barr assures us, a fiction held together by facts). I simply read it as a love story between two talented young men living in a time when homosexuality was illegal.
It is an absolutely enthralling story (no matter how much is true) and Damien Barr brings the two to vivid life. There's triumph and tragedy both in this story which encompasses some of the most exciting times in the art and literary world (the Roberts knew the Bloomsbury set and Francis Bacon amongst others. They certainly lived life in the fast lane.
Damien Barr has written a beautiful homage to these two Scots. I would definitely recommend this novel. I certainly want to know more about the two Roberts. I also want to read more of Damien Barr's work.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Canongate Books for the advance review copy.
so unbelievably perfect. taut with an intense emotion and thrill of love and longing. such a genuine romantic relationship between two distinctive characters and artists. so moving! loveeeed.
A book based on two men both named Robert - real life best friends turned lovers who met at art school in Glasgow in the 1930s and became famous artists for a while only for them to be all but forgotten in present day? Yeah, this book sounded exactly like something I'd love so it's a shame I couldn't make it further than 19% before I gave up on it.
Afterwards, I skipped around and read a few chapters here and there, including the last one, the epilogue, and the afterword because I kept thinking maybe if I'd kept going, I'd eventually get into it but the opposite happened. I obviously didn't get a full picture and I'm also not rating the book but I do have some thoughts.
The writing style seemed odd and I didn't like it. The randomly changing POVs (of the two main characters, an omniscient narrator, and occasionally side characters) was strange and didn't work for me.
While the author states in the afterword that he "tried not to let the truth get in the way of a good story", the parts I read definitely seemed to lean more on real historical events rather than making for a compelling narrative story or romance.
The book was clearly well researched but perhaps it would've been better to have used all this knowledge and research for a biography about the two artists instead.
I'll be honest, I expected to like this book. I really admire Damian Barr, especially for the way he promotes other authors and public libraries through his work. And I have read and enjoyed his previous novel. But The Two Roberts is even better than I thought it would be! I loved it!
I am not especially interested in art or artists and you do not need to be to read this book. It is about so much more. The novel follows Bobby and Robert as they make their way firstly through the Glasgow School of Art and then through their professional lives. The two Roberts were real people, so their meeting at school was factual. Beyond that the line between fiction and non fiction is very blurred - the narrative felt very real to me, all of it, the successes, the failures, the people and the prejudice.
At the end of the novel Barr explains some of the distinction between fact and fiction. He then provides an alternative ending - the one he wished had happened. This was such a lovely, personal addition and not something I have seen an author do before. The whole book was so well written and I was so absorbed in the story of these two men that I had to google their art when I had finished reading.
Highly recommended. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an early copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
'I'm not sucking Virginia Woolf's cock,' says Bobby.
The hotter it gets where I live—and it gets quite hot—the more I long for the northernmost parts of Scotland. In that regard, the novel temporarily quenched my thirst while I figure out how to get to Edinburgh, if not Kirkwall. The novel has also whetted my appetite for biographies of queer artists. I wasn't aware of the circles in which the two Roberts moved, but after finishing the novel, I got two books on Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud. I also got several other biographies, including those of Marsha P. Johnson and Dennis Cooper, while waiting for the big one on Baldwin to come out. If anyone reading this can recommend others, please do.
Beautiful, gut wrenching, heartbreaking. This is everything I want from a book but everything I hate about letting yourself be emotionally captivated. I laughed. I cried. I cried some more. And now, at the end of this, I want to reread it with different eyes.
Disappointing. Although it was about their relationship it always felt like a PG version of what it should have been, the writing shying away from any real explicit description of their physical relationship with each other and others, which given the time period and the illegality of being gay should have been central to the story.
It’s surely the mark of an excellent novel when, upon finishing, you find yourself so unwilling to leave the characters behind, that you carry on reading and researching everything about them, including the author who brought them to life. Such is my obsession with The Two Roberts.
Robert Colquhoun and Robert MacBryde were two real-life Scottish painters who met at Glasgow School of Art in 1933 and were inseparable for the rest of their lives. For a while, they were the toast of the art world, then they faded into obscurity. Barr has taken what little knowledge exists about them and fictionalised their lives, giving them the true colour and depth they deserve, beyond the “they were just roommates” trope.
Barr writes with the warm, affectionate voice of someone sharing a cherished family story which is being told not only out of habit, but because it still matters. We come to know the two main characters as Bobby and Robert, and they are crafted with such vitality that they feel like old friends, to the point that I can’t believe that the author did not actually live with them. We feel we are there in their student flat, living through every party and every argument. We are there traipsing down the streets of Soho at dawn, hobnobbing with artists, writers, and sailors. We live through their poverty and their pleasures. Barr merges meticulous research with his own inventions to fill in the gaps in their lives with sympathy and beautiful cinematic detail. This novel is crying out for a tv adaptation!
Barr’s love for the two artists is abundantly clear, and I love that he wrote two endings for them: one is obvious, historically accurate and heartbreaking, the other is the ending he wishes they had had, but which is no less devastating, simply because it’s not true.
Read this with a drink in your hand. Something long and unctuous. You need to savour it along with Barr’s writing which will leave you with the quiet, lingering warmth of a late summer evening. It’s just glorious.
I absolutely loved the start of this book; the Glasgow art school setting, the buzz of creativity, and the intensity of the relationship between Colquhoun and MacBryde. Those early chapters pulled me right in, and I honestly thought this was going to be a five-star read.
As the story went on, though, I felt it lost a bit of that early energy and focus. The later sections are still moving, but they didn’t hit me in quite the same way as they felt a little more fragmented and less emotionally sharp. Maybe that was deliberate, reflecting the pair’s decline, but I missed the connection and spark of the beginning.
Still, it’s a beautiful, compassionate book that shines a light on two artists who deserve to be remembered. If the whole novel had kept the power of those opening chapters, it would’ve been a solid five stars from me.
An interesting and informative fiction read based on the lives of two gay male artists from the 40s and 50s. It was heartening to read how they found love and kept their relationship secret from the authorities. The tragedy was the alcoholism that led them down a destructive path.
One of the most beautifully written books I have read. Achingly sad, but tender and full of love. A really interesting insight into these artists and their lives. Really really loved this.
This is a beautiful and poignant story that sheds light on the works of Robert Colquhoun and Robert MacBryde, two working class boys from Ayrshire (Kilmarnock and Maybole respectively) who meet as students at the Glasgow School of Art in the early 1930s and who form a professional and romantic relationship that lasts the rest of their lives. It follows them from Glasgow through to Europe pre-WWII and various parts of the south of England including London, and finally gives them and their love story the voice it deserves.
I liked the first half of "The Two Roberts", but then the story somewhat lost me. There were a lot of time jumps and the writing style was a little to flowery for my taste.
I loved The Two Roberts by Damian Barr. He brings these two artists to life in full, vibrant colour and fills them with their zest for life, for art, and for each other. It’s a tough, yet tender story, brutal in places, incredibly poignant in others.
The poignancy is added to by both Colquhoun and MacBryde’s love of the Glasgow School of Art, a building gutted by fire, which is now in such a terrible state of neglect – the building a shadow of Charles Renee McIntosh’s former glory.
Damian Barr has given us a novel that feels less like a retelling and more like a reliving of their lives. In Bobby MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun he finds not just artists, but lovers whose lives carried the weight of their times—times when queerness had to be coded, hidden, endured. The book is a testament not only to their passion for art but also to the tenderness and terror of being two young men in love when that love was still a crime. Indeed, being a working-class artist was strange enough in itself, far more so in a country like Scotland, where homosexuality was illegal right up until 1984.
Barr is meticulous in his evocation of 1930s Scotland. He does not romanticise the Lees Boot Factory from which Bobby escapes, nor does he gloss over the fact that even within the comparatively bohemian walls of the Glasgow School of Art, homosexuality was shadowed by criminalisation. What strikes me most is Barr’s understanding of how the law did more than threaten—it shaped the men’s identities, their friendships, even their creative processes. Their intimacy is described in moments stolen in private, and always with the anxiety of discovery hovering at the edges. This ever-present fear infuses the prose with a kind of tense beauty: I was reminded again and again that secrecy was both prison and catalyst, sharpening their attachment to each other.
At the same time, Barr is clear-eyed about the class divide. MacBryde, a factory worker’s son from Maybole, feels the weight of every penny, the precariousness of every opportunity. Colquhoun, a Kilmarnock lad, though equally marked by Scotland’s poverty, navigates art school with a different kind of fragility—quieter, more internalised, but still vulnerable. Together, they are both insiders and outsiders, celebrated for their talent yet never quite safe, never entirely at ease in rooms filled with privilege. This doubleness—the exhilaration of being chosen, and the sting of being reminded of one’s origins—runs like a current beneath the love story. Barr gives us devotion, obsession, ecstasy, and despair—sometimes within the same page.
He channels their fear, their secrecy, and how that shaped both how they loved and painted. Their lives are full of things unsaid, closed doors, hidden studios, suppressed desires. Those constraints become part of their art. And their love is strengthened by what is forbidden—but also eroded by it.
As their world expands into wartime London and the glamorous, and sometimes corrosive, company of Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud and Elizabeth Smart, Barr does not let us forget that these two working-class boys from Ayrshire are still carrying both stigma and longing. Their wild parties and the artistic acclaim they garner only intensify the volatility of their relationship, almost as if fame is accelerating their burnout. Their success can’t shield them from loneliness, addiction, and emotional burnout. Class still claws at them — the precariousness, the sense that wherever they go, they carry home and all its weight on their backs.
The tragedy is not only in their decline but in how poverty and invisibility followed. For all their talent, The Two Roberts almost slipped out of collective memory. Today, they are nowhere near as acknowledged as they should be. With this book, Barr has remedied a wrong.
Barr’s novel restores them with reverence and rage. It is a love letter but also a lament: for the art world that did not know how to handle them, for a society that criminalized their desire, and for the fleeting nature of a love that should have had the chance to endure. I finished the book full of heartache for them, but grateful to Barr for bringing them back into focus.
Many thanks to the author, Damien Barr, NetGalley, and the publishers, Canongate, for a digital ARC of this novel, which is published on 4 September. It’s a fictionalised account of two Scottish painters, Robert Colquhoun and Robert MacBryde, whose lives are brilliantly recreated by Barr. I absolutely loved it.
The two Roberts were working-class boys from the west of Scotland who met at the world-famous Glasgow School of Art. (The opening chapters of this book feel like a love letter to that institution, which suffered two serious fires in 2018 and 2022.) Both hugely talented, they graduated at the top of their class, and when Colquhoun won the travelling scholarship for best student, MacBryde was awarded an equivalent stipend by special dispensation. At some point, the two became lovers and they remained together for the rest of their tumultuous lives.
They enjoyed success early on in their careers: by their mid-twenties, they were known as “the golden boys of Bond St” for the money they were generating for galleries. However, both were generous to a fault and imprudent with money, and when their work fell out of fashion in the 1950's, they didn’t have a cushion to fall back on. (The Irish writer Anthony Cronin, who was friends with them, writes that the pair were “often destitute” at that time, and spent any money they came upon immediately.) It didn’t help that both had developed a dependency on alcohol, erasing much of their ability to work.
I listened to a talk with Barr at the Edinburgh International Book Festival in which he said he wanted the book to be filled with possibility and passion, and he cleverly elides time at their lowest ebb by presenting the late fifties through a series of letters the pair send to various acquaintances, which makes the book far less sad than it could have been. There’s also a wonderful set-piece towards the end based on an incident Cronin told of a night the Roberts spend at Cronin’s house, which is told with humour and warmth, and yet also shows how difficult and physically abusive their relationship could be.
This is the story of two eventful lives, and two brilliant men who deserve to be better known. I really hope that it brings attention back to the work of both painters. Barr is a also a wonderful stylist, and most of the novels I’ve read since have seriously suffered by comparison with this. I hope you’ll consider picking it up.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Writing fiction based on real historical people is a particular challenge, particularly those from the mid twentieth century, given that those people were alive within living memories, but not recently enough to easily conjure their worlds or interview them or their friends. It is not something which I could imagine doing myself. I have read two books recently in which the author had to mix imagination and research in just this way, this book and Angharad Hampshire’s The Mare. Both are very impressive.
This novel is not perfect. The first half is stronger than the second. But I think it deserves five stars because it rises to such a steep challenge.
One of my children graduated from Glasgow School of Art and I have done research into the experiences of gay men in the early twentieth century for my own writing. On these subjects, Barr’s writing rings true. I also grew up in North Essex and his descriptions of events which happened there were not quite so accurate. There were a lot of subjects covered in this book which I knew less about and those were convincing, so now I feel I know more.
What is more important, though, is the emotional truths. I was utterly convinced by the turbulent relationship between the two Roberts, very fond of and exasperated by both of them. I certainly cared what happened to them. Their families and backgrounds were interesting and believable. I know little about art, but felt how important it was to both of them and to their friends. They were easier to like when they were young and hopeful than when they were self-indulgently self-destructive as they aged. But, equally, Barr makes it easy to understand how their experiences of life led them to be like that.
There is a poetry and a visuality to the prose. Some of the imagery is lovely. The settings are rendered vividly. Barr shows us the world through Bobby’s wonderful observation often enough to evoke his wonder in us. There is often a bleakness too. And there are objective moments when the narration steps back from the action to show perspective.
The story cannot be shaped by a writer to the same degree when a fiction is based on fact, but given that limitation, I thought Barr did a good job. This is a book which I am already recommending to people I know, and I’m sure I’ll be doing that a lot more times in the future!
This is part fact part fiction and reimagines the story of a couple who became known in the art world as The Two Roberts. Robert Colquhoun and Bobby MacBryde met in 1933 at the Glasgow school of art and, after some reluctance became inseparable first as tentative friends, and then, as that friendship grew, lovers. They lodged together, worked together, socialised together, travelled together, until war separated them and they were never the same again. To be honest, before this book I had never heard of them. I decided to try and go in blind and read the book first but it soon became obvious that that was not going to happen. But I actually think I had a better time with the book as I both discovered them within its pages as well as complemented that with my forays into the internet. Like illustrations in a book. I also got to the end where the author mentions a TV program they were filmed for so off I popped to watch that at the same time as I was having it described to me. Brought that to life too. As for the Roberts. I found them fascinating and the fact that their love was forbidden and had to be hidden so very sad. I already knew that it was illegal back then and I am already familiar with another couple who had to deal with this albeit in the 60s and we all know how that one ended - Orton and Halliwell - and being a big Joe Orton fan and having read pretty much everything written by and about him, including his diaries and complete works, I can't help but draw parallels between the two couples especially the volatility and also when their professional relationship stopped being equal. Despite not knowing what is fact and what has come from the imagination of the author I think he has delivered a wonderful, and respectful love story. He has brought them to life and taken them on a wholly credible path, peppered with real people and real events. I especially loved the alternative ending, the one he wished had happened. Oh the things that we miss out on when the stars go out so early... My thanks go to the Publisher and Netgalley for the chance to read this book.
Oh and, as an aside, I now know why one of my local libraries is called the Carnegie Library...
This was the first time I’ve read a book by Damian Barr but it won’t be the last.
I found The Two Roberts to be so beautifully written, skilfully conjuring a time and place immersively, and bringing to life these two characters in an unforgettable way. It’s always a good sign for me when reading something historical that I go and research it while reading, to bring a bit of context to the story. I especially loved the opening chapters when the two young artists meet at Glasgow School of Art and are drawn to each other - as well as drawing each other ;)
The author’s imagining of the dynamic between Bobby and Robert is utterly compelling and believable, their longing and ambition and vulnerability had me gripped throughout. I applaud the decision to focus on their development and not on their decline - there’s already so much stacked against them with laws and attitudes of the time reflected honestly here but in a way that maintains the utmost respect for the real men behind the story.
I enjoyed my journey through the decades and locations depicted here, and the ‘alternative’ ending is heartbreaking.
I’ll be gifting this one to many friends later this year when it’s published - many thanks to the publisher for letting me read an advance copy in return for this honest review.
I absolutely adored every single page of this book. Damian Barr paints the most tender, colourful, albeit often tragic, atypical love story of two extraordinarily talented young queer artists, born in a time when their love was sadly deemed criminal. The historical setting, takes place in the pre war 1930s, moving through the World War II and the 40s and then into the 50s - a time span during which the Roberts’ shone both by their dual success and subsequent demise, whilst rubbing friendly (and often debauched!) shoulders with the likes of more well known art world names, such as Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud, whom they themselves creatively influenced.
The two Roberts - the handsome introverted ‘Robert’ Colquhoun and charismatic, all round loveable, life loving ‘Bobbie’, Robert MacBryde (based on the real artists, whom I’d not heard of before) meet and quickly become inseparable, during their formative years at the impressive institution of the Glasgow School of Art. I’ve been lucky enough to visit the School of Art and the novel’s description of it was so perfectly portrayed I felt I was literally walking the dark heady Macintosh corridors and viewing the north lit studios to attend life drawing classes along side them. But the enchantment of the setting only served to enhance the incredible bond between the inseparable young men, and the tragedy of society’s (and the law’s) rejection of homosexuality.
I studied art history at university and sadly I never came across these two artists - but on completion I immediately googled them - their work certainly deserves greater mention. There is an up and coming exhibition of their work in - ‘Robert MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun: Artists, Lovers, Outsiders 15 October 2025–12 April 2026, Charleston in Lewes’ which is sure to further bring attention to their talents and place in the art world. Well done to Damian Barr for shining the light on them, which they deserve.
Damian Barr's latest book, "The Two Roberts", is a historical novel about two gay Scottish painters who should be better known than they are. Both Robert Colquhoun and Bobby MacBryde were from working class backgrounds and they became students at the Glasgow School of Art on the same day. For the rest of their lives, they were inseparable. Bobby specialised in still life paintings, while Robert concentrated on portraits and particularly of Bobby.
For a while in the 1940s and early 1950s, they were successful and counted some of the great British artists and writers of the time as their friends, including the likes of Dylan Thomas, Lucien Freud Wyndham Lewis. However, their relationship was torrid and at times violent, often fuelled by excessive alcohol consumption. Over time, alcohol and chaotic lifestyles led to them losing friends, having to regularly move to cheaper accommodation and often relied on the generosity of others to keep a roof over their heads.
Damien Barr's novel is a sympathetic but at times brutally honest portrait of two fine artists who had the courage to live an openly gay lifestyle at a time when homosexual behaviour was a crime and who had to also overcome prejudice against those from working class backgrounds, but who were also flawed and damaged themselves through their behaviour and alcoholism.
What I enjoyed most about the book was the use of language to evoke place and identity. Early in the book, I kept looking up the Scots words or phrases, which drew me closer to the world of the two Roberts.
This language fades somewhat with their travels and relocation to London, reflecting perhaps a loosening of one element of identity even as their artistic and social aspects blossomed.
My final feeling after reading is that this is a book of contrasts: between the characters of the two Roberts themselves, certainly - Bobby is bubbly and immediate, Robert more reserved and elusive.
But the contrasts - and attendant tension - are ever present in the story. An exuberant London life and community shines amidst the hard realities of war, family estrangement, and romantic entanglements. And the pursuit of love and art persists despite considerable personal and financial challenges, particularly in their later years. This part was painful to read about.
An interesting twist is the author providing the ending these men should have had: a one-page imagining that brings the two Roberts into a happier future.
Many thanks to the author, publisher and Net Galley for access to the ARC.
Recently I read the new Damian Barr, The Two Roberts, a historical, literary fiction based on the lives of two mid 20th century artists and lovers, Roberts MacBryde (Bobby) and Robert Colquhoun (Robert).
It’s a mesmerising tale of two young men, almost forgotten by history. Two brilliant art students from working class roots who met on their first day at the Glasgow School of Art in 1933, their forbidden love and exceptional talent. Following them from Scotland to a post-graduation summer tour of Europe, to acclaim and the bohemian salons of wartime London, with the likes of Lucien Freud and Francis Bacon, before eventual obscurity and poverty.
Charismatic, defiant and passionate, this is a fabulously imagined story of two gay men, forgotten artists, and the life they chose together. A wild tale, it captures the fear of the time, the pressure and expectation of both family and society, while celebrating the love, extravagance and defiance of two young men who shone brightly for a time but burnt out far too young. Barr encapsulates the joy and tragedy of their lives by writing two endings, one true, the other wished for, which is heartbreaking yet hopeful. Two incredible lives bound by a tumultuous yet deep love and rescued from obscurity by this fascinating book.
Read after reading 'Maggie & Me' by the same author. Great love story and interesting to read what they went through. Some chapters did drag a little and I skip read.
Decline and Poverty: After reaching the peak of their fame in the 1940s, their careers suffered in the 1950s due to the changing art world's focus on abstract and pop art, their difficult personalities, and their increasing alcoholism. They struggled financially, often having to barter their art for basic necessities like alcohol.
Colquhoun's Death: Robert Colquhoun died in 1962 at the age of 47 from alcohol-related causes, in MacBryde's arms. He was so poor that his family could not afford a headstone for his grave.
MacBryde's Death: Without Colquhoun, MacBryde was bereft and his life spiraled further. He virtually stopped painting and moved to Ireland. Just four years later, in 1966, he was killed in a traffic accident (knocked down by a car outside a Dublin pub) at the age of 53.
Their story is one of a intense, devoted, though tempestuous, love that lasted until death, followed by a period where their artistic legacy was largely forgotten, only to be resurrected in more recent years by exhibitions and the novel by Damian Barr.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I had heard of one of these artists before and was intrigued by the relationship between the two Roberts. The details of the Glasgow School of Art and of the deprivations of the time were good. I understand that a large number of source documents were used to ensure accuracy. But what is evident is that, like any historical biography, especially in novel format, most is made up, even though structured by what we know about these people. I found the actual writing rather simplistic. Lots of imagined dialogue. I wanted something more literary than this. There were no phrases to highlight and little real humour. I never really invested in the characters.
In the end, I found it dull and thought I could have got this from Wikipedia. I like Damian Barr and his Scottish Book Club series on TV so I was disappointed.
I read an ARC provided by NetGalley and the publishers.
Thanks to the publishers and Netgalley for a digital ARC of this new novel from Damian Barr. This is a wonderful reimagination of the love story between Robert Colquhoun and Robert MacBryde, Ayrshire artists who meet on their way to the Glasgow School of Art in 1933 and are barely separated during their lifetime. A magical mix of romance, history and a revival of Scottish Artists whose story is not best known it travels through Glasgow, the European continent during the months before the outbreak of World War 2, London during the War and the surrounding areas thereafter. The bond between the two men as they navigate life in the 1930s-1950s in a relationship which is both intense and illegal yet filled with tenderness and chaos is told so powerfully. Hopefully this book will bring attention back to these artists and allow a new generation to discover their work.
Beautifully written, this book unexpectedly captured my heart. I can’t remember the last time I read a story so evocative of place and time, with such compelling characters. It almost felt like I fell in love with both Roberts with all their charms and flaws : as I read on through their life story I kept hoping that all would work out well in the end. I was glad to be able to read more detail from the author at the end of the book, which also helped me to realise that this was a fictional telling of real lives and that there is currently an exhibition of their work at Charleston in Lewes, running until April 12, 2026, which many readers will find fascinating. I look forward to reading more from this author! Thank you to the Reading Agency for supplying copies of this great book and supporting our small rural book club.