It’s not just you that moves on

I'd been saving 'Strange Loyalties' by William McIlvanney for Christmas week as a treat to myself.  However, with his recent passing I decided to bring my reading forward a little.  What separated his writing, I think, from other crime writers was an interest in the philosophical.  He would ask 'what does this all mean' kinds of questions rather than simply 'who did this?'  Here's an example that resonates with me as a geographer.

It’s not just you that moves on.  Places move too.  You go back and you find that they are not where they were.  The streets and buildings may remain, with modifications, but they aren’t any longer the places you knew.  The looker makes the looked at and what I was seeing perhaps was a kind of absence, a self no longer there.  I had come into what I took for manhood among these parts of Ayrshire and they had meant much to me, not just as a geography but as a landscape of the heart, a quintessential Scotland where good people were my landmarks and the common currency was a mutual caring.  Why did it feel so different to me today, a little seedy and withdrawn?  Had I dreamed a place? 

Here are my reviews of Laidlaw and The Papers of Tony Veitch.  Both excellent reads.

Unhealthy waters?

Back to reading academic stuff alongside the novels after a two week break. I spent yesterday afternoon reading a draft of the opening chapter of a book on water, health and place written by a colleague, Ronan Foley. The book focuses on the symbolic meanings and material interaction with the healing powers of water, and what in the literature is called therapeutic landscapes – places that lead to well-being – and in particular spas, bath-houses, springs, holy wells, and seaside resorts. Looks like its going to be a good one when its published next year.

Researching this kind of thing seems like a good gig to me as the prime way to find about spas is to spend time in them and he’s been tramping off all over world to experience spas in different places. I also have a colleague in the UK who researches alternative therapies which means she has to spend two weeks each year in a secluded Spanish villa doing yoga and getting massages and so on at the tax payer’s expense. Does she enjoy her research! Perhaps I need to change focus to exclusive, boutique hotels in exotic places, but I digress.

What this got me thinking about is crime novels set in places with supposed healing waters but which are decidedly unhealthy for the guests. I thought I’d give him a reading list so he can balance all this 'water is good for you' shtick. Any suggestions?

Talking of water, I picked up The Shape of Water by Andrea Camirelli last week so expect a post on that at some point soon.