It is the story of a little American girl, Bud, who has lost her parents and comes to stay with her relatives in a small Scottish town (clearly based on Inveraray). She progresses, thanks to her enlightened but only semi-liberated Aunt Ailie, to become a Shakespearean actress in London's West End - in spite of the negativity of the Scottish education system and the background of social and religious attitudes which regarded the theatre as unsuitable and rather sinful. It is especially interesting because it confronts the problem of the female creative artist in a society whose mores inhibit the expression of her talent.
Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads data base.
Neil Munro was a Scottish journalist, newspaper editor, author and literary critic. He was born in Inveraray and worked as a journalist on various newspapers.
He was basically a serious writer, but is now mainly known for his humorous short stories, originally written under the pen name of Hugh Foulis. (It seems that he was not making a serious attempt to disguise his identity, but wanted to keep his serious and humorous writings separate.) The best known were about the fictional Clyde puffer the Vital Spark and her captain Para Handy, but they also included stories about the waiter and kirk beadle Erchie MacPherson, and the travelling drapery salesman Jimmy Swan.
Precocious ten year old orphan Lennox 'Bud' Dyce comes to Scotland from America to live with her uncle and two aunties in a remote Highland coastal village. They soon discover that she's no 'diffy' and needless to say she makes quite an impression.
Her parents had both been on the stage and Bud is a natural mimic, entrancing the sedate inhabitants of sleepy Maryfield with her play acting. Kind, domesticated Auntie Bell is keen to curb young Bud's enthusiasm somewhat, educated and liberal-minded Auntie Ailie encourages it.
The third book I have read recently by Munro, they have all proven to be different in genre and tone though all set in the Scottish Highlands and wonderfully rich in the Gaelic spirit and dialect.
The Daft Days is a sweetly Dickensian comedy, where all the characters are unashamedly good-natured and well-meaning. Nothing wrong with that so long as the sentimentality isn't shoveled on too thick, which it wasn't.
I'm not entirely sure how familiar Munro was with the Chicago dialect. Bud's native slang only really included the words 'dre'ffle' and 'zagirate,' alongside the odd 'Bully!', 'beat the band' and the all-purpose phrase "I'm not kicking," which was a new one on me.
However, as always he knew his beloved Scotch slang down to his core. Wonderful sounding examples of which included 'creesh', 'greet', 'neuk', 'skliff', and 'whitterick'. I can't remember what they all mean now but when they cropped up in context there was never any doubt!
I also liked the use of a nameless first-person narrator, clearly a local, not a part of the story but playfully addressing the reader from time to time from their position of omnipotence, eg. 'You may guess, good women, if you like, that at the end of the book the banker-man is to marry Ailie, but you'll be wrong.'
Much of the sweetness came directly from the narration. Right from the outset I was hooked by the promise to 'shut us snugly in with Daniel Dyce and his household, and it will be well with us then. Yes, yes, it will be well with us then.'