The audio recording, which accompanies the Luath Scots Language Learner book, conveys the authentic pronunciation, especially important to readers from outside Scotland. It is suitable as an introductory course or for those interested in reacquainting themselves with the language of childhood and grandparents. There are dictionaries and grammar books but this is the first-ever language course. The book assumes no prior knowledge on the reader's part. Starting from the most basic vocabulary and constructions, the reader is guided step-by-step through Scots vocabulary and the subtleties of grammar and idiom that distinguish Scots from English.
To: L Colin Wilson, c/o Luath Press Ltd., 543/2 Castlehill, Edinburgh EH1 2ND.
Dear Sir,
I write to complain in the strongest possible terms. I recently purchased a copy of your book, the Scots Language Learner, ahead of a business conference in Livingston, and while visiting Scotland I was especially keen to ‘interact’ with the ‘locals’ in their ‘native tongue’.
I was particularly taken with your suggestion that the student of Scots should make every effort to ‘practise what has been learned with real Scots speakers in shops or cafés’, and by the time my trip came about I felt that I had reached a tolerable competence in the language (or ‘leid’ – you see something of the fluency I had attained). After I had dispensed my business duties in Scotland, therefore, I went excitedly into a nearby public house, the Paraffin Lamp, to try out my new-found communication skills. The landlord seemed the perfect target for some friendly local banter, as he greeted me with a jovial, ‘All right?’
Instantly recalling the conversation practice in the first chapter of your book, I responded unhesitatingly with the phrase, ‘Nae baud at aw, an whit like yersel? Whit a braw bonnie day tae be oot an aboot!’
To my surprise, he did not react with the eager delight your book had led me to expect, instead just asking, ‘What did you say, pal?’ in a decidedly unwelcoming tone of voice. Thinking back to some of the exercises in Chapter 4, I repeated my greeting more carefully, and explained: ‘A wis born and brocht up in London, but A'v bin lairnin yer ain Scots leid for a wee whilie!’, before ordering ‘jist a glaiss o guid whusky an watter, the noo!’
At this point, the gentleman beside me at the bar, who was enjoying a bottle of the local Buckfast Tonic Wine, seemed to become agitated, and asked the barman heatedly why ‘this English cunt is talking like a ned’, and whether ‘he [I] was looking to get his [my] head kicked in’.
‘A'm no that!’ I assured him in a conciliatory tone. ‘A'm no sae glaikit! A jist wantit tae meet a puckle local bodies tae hae a blether!’
Doubtless my pronunciation was at fault, but both men appeared to take this very badly. The barman became quite upset, and began to offer me what seemed to be a range of quite pointed suggestions, none of which I could find in the Glossary to your book. The other gentleman, perhaps sensing my incomprehension, helped out with a variety of illustrative hand gestures.
In an attempt get them back ‘on side’, I removed my overcoat with a flourish to reveal that I was wearing a full kilt and tam-o-shanter decorated in the McHardy tartan. I can only conclude from their violent response that Livingston is not a welcoming place for McHardys or that the pub in question is loyal to some other local clan.
I saw some irony in the fact that your Introduction suggests local Scots ‘really ought to be on their knees thanking you’ for using their language, when in fact it was I who was on my knees having been headbutted viciously in the face by an irate publican. Instead of interceding, his companion chose rather to join in the violence, paying no heed whatever to my fluent cries of, ‘Are ye gaunae no dae that?’
Regrettably, therefore, I must request a refund of the £9.99 I spent on your language book, and I will be forwarding my hospital bill to your publishers in due course.