“Banksie, hi. What are you up to?”
“Well, I’m going to be writing a book about whisky.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m going to be writing a book about whisky. I’ve been, umm, you know, commissioned. To write a book about it. About whisky. Malt whisky, actually.”
“You’re writing a book about whisky?”
“Yeah. It means I have to go all over Scotland, driving mostly, but taking other types of transport – ferries, planes, trains, that sort of thing – visiting distilleries and tasting malt whisky. With expenses, obviously.”
“You serious?”
“Course I’m serious!”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
“… Do you need any help with this?”
Iain Banks was a Scottish author of incredible imagination and range, who gained huge popular and critical acclaim during his writing career. He wrote both mainstream (I’m not sure whether that word is entirely applicable, to be honest, but I can’t think of something more appropriate) fiction and science fiction, the latter mostly set in his incredible Culture universe. He died in 2013, aged just 59, after a short illness.
I don’t usually start my book reviews with a biography of the author but I think it’s pertinent here. Although Raw Spirit is a book about whisky it’s about far more than that, where we learn as much if not more about Banks than we do about his quest to discover the perfect dram.
I picked up my old and somewhat dog-eared copy of Raw Spirit whilst on holiday in Scotland back in 2015 and devoured it during that week. Earlier this year I returned to Scotland to undertake a road trip I’d been talking about doing for around ten years, driving the iconic North Coast 500 route over several leisurely days in April and May. Banks’s book was the perfect choice for my evening entertainment since it covers many of the same places and journeys. I threw it into my suitcase with every intention of reading it and I think I got to about page 17 during my holiday. The Germans have a word for it: ‘Kofferbuch.’ A book one takes on a trip with the intention of reading, but never actually read.
That’s not to say it’s a bad book – far from it. I think it had a lot more to do with long days behind the wheel driving through some of the most stunning scenery I’ve ever seen, in perfect weather, before winding up at various bars and restaurants each night where numerous pints, bottles of wine and the occasional dram were consumed.
As a result, I really got into this reread once I was home, which in some respects was better because it provided me with an opportunity to reminisce on that trip and the various other excursions I’ve enjoyed in Scotland over the years. Consequently, I recognised many of the places Banks describes, and I found things haven’t changed all that much since he undertook his arduous mission back in 2003.
In approaching this commission, Banks opted to take the long, scenic route and this comes through in the book, where he reflects on various memories, recounts some amusing anecdotes and ends up in several escapades with his friends and wife, Ann, who are ‘helping’ him to sample Scotland’s vast array of single malts. Every now and again we get to the whisky, which Banks covers with excellent and colourful tasting notes. However, this is really a love letter to Scotland, which is brought to life with Banks's trademark rich descriptive prose.
Without doubt, it’s also a love letter to cars and the fun of driving through Scotland’s wonderful landscapes. Early on in the book I laughed out loud at Banks's five-page paean to his Land Rover Defender, and he similarly gushes about his BMW M5 and a couple of Porsches, one of which ends up on its roof (which comes as no surprise). Inappropriate names for caravans rubs shoulders with Banks's wonderful turn of phrase as he lovingly describes the cars he’s driving as much as the journey itself.
“The drive up Loch Lomond side, across Rannoch Moor and through Glencoe is necessarily a little more sedate than it would have been in the BMW, but the Jag can pick up its skirts and make an overtaking dash when it needs to all the same, and the engine sounds great when it’s gunned, like a Tyrannosaurus fart sampled and played back at 960 b.p.m.”
Rather like this review, the book is full of detours, taking us down Great Wee Roads and peppered with stories of Banks's life, meaning Raw Spirit is about whisky and a lot more besides. That approach might be frustrating for the whisky purist but I loved it. Alongside his visits to the various distilleries there’s also a side-quest to see if he can find an illegal still, echoing back to a time when ‘peatreek’ was made in secret by remote crofters, well out of the way of the hated taxman.
This is also a book written at a very specific point in history, Banks’s journey coinciding with the Iraq War in 2003. Banks makes no secret of his uncompromising critical views on the war, US and UK politics in general, and the importance of the humane treatment of refugees. He was never afraid to speak his mind and I appreciated his honesty, reflecting that his views are still just as relevant in 2024 as they were in 2003, whether you agree with them or not.
The repercussions of the war aside, this was a book which made me smile and stirred many happy memories of my own. I found myself nodding as Banks enthuses about brands of whisky I’m also a fan of, and I’ve made some notes about those I still need to track down.
Whilst I loved this book there was also a tinge of sadness reading it this time around. What comes across most of all was Banks’s zest for life and the way he lived it to the full until his untimely passing. His death left a huge gap in the literary world, and I can’t help but think about the books we’ll never get to read as a consequence. In that respect the search for the perfect dram is also a sharp reminder of what life is really all about. Treasure your friends, stand up for what you believe in, and do the things which bring you joy because you never know what’s around the corner.
Put another way, I’m already busy planning another Scotland road trip for 2025, this time taking in more of breathtaking Glencoe and the wild, mountainous Isle of Skye, which has been on my bucket list for far too long. I think I’ll probably manage to find the time to squeeze in one or two distilleries along the way as well. It would be rude not to.
Slàinte