posted on 18 Jul 2022

The Big Man by William McIlvanney

Scottish novelist William McIlvanney (1936 – 2015) has become something of a cult figure in recent years amongst the more literary-inclined crime aficionados  and has a serious champion in fellow Scot, Ian Rankin who was commissioned to complete an unfinished manuscript of McIlvanney’s which was given the title ‘The Dark Remains’. McIlvanney has also been given the less than helpful tag of being the godfather of ‘Tartan Noir’ which derives from his crime thrillers featuring his most famous character Inspector Jack Laidlaw who made his first appearance in 1977 and  who he would bring back in three subsequent novels.

But it would be a serious mistake to think that the Laidlaw crime detective novels are the apex of McIlvanney’s output – far from it. He was a novelist rooted in his community and the characters around him and the books based on their lives and tribulations are serious pieces of literary fiction. The Big Man (1985) is one of those.

Dan Scoular is the ‘Big Man’ of the title living in a small, no-hope Ayrshire village who is unemployed and has a marriage that’s falling apart. He drinks in the local pub with a small cast of depressing locals who see him as a minor legend in his lifetime because is one great talent is his ability to use his size and his fists in a devastating way. But Scoular isn’t just a thug, he’s a thoughtful man teetering on the edge of existential doubt. 

However, it is this facility in street fighting that brings him to the notice of Matt Mason, a big man in his own right by virtue of being a mover and shaker in the Glasgow world of underground crime. Mason offers Scoular both money and a way out of his narrow, spirit-crushing world but it’s the devil’s bargain – he must fight as Mason’s champion in an illegal bare-knuckle fist fight.

Once Dan has proved himself to Mason and accepted the first down-payment on his services, he’s tied-in and it’s clear that he’s going to have to play the whole story out to its end. There’s something of the classical tragedy in the way Dan’s course is set and we know his own sense of what is right and wrong will constantly be challenged as he becomes an instrument of destiny.

McIlvanney is very skilful in the way he takes us through the agonies of the fight – it’s a visceral experience to read but there’s nothing glamorous or sensational about it. This is a clash of titans and both men are flawed chess pieces in a bigger game and we know it has to end badly for one of them. He gives Scoular the chance of a redemption of sorts but in order to take advantage of this opportunity he has to come to terms with his own identity as a working class man - he must reject the path to easy corrupt money, find accommodation with his wife and embrace a renewed solidarity with his working class friends and neighbours.

The scope of McIlvanney’s aspiration is clear and impressive but, in my view, not always successfully handled and it’s impossible not to feel that the weight of all these big themes weighs the whole narrative down. There are some very fine set pieces – Mason’s initial Satanic temptation of Dan in the pub or the fist fight itself  for example – but too much of Dan’s internal moral monologue feels badly overwritten and unnecessarily wordy. 

I couldn’t help but feel that this book was a great short story that has been beefed-up to the point where it rather falls back in on itself. But, having said that, it’s undoubtedly a worthy read full of important ideas about male identity and social class.

Paperback copies of this book are easily available for well under £10.

 

Terry Potter

July 2022