This is a book about a memoir of places observed in solitude, of the texture of life through the quiet course of the seasons in the far north of Scotland. It is a book grounded in the singularity of one place - a house in northern Aberdeenshire - and threaded through with an unshowy commitment to the lost and the forgotten. In these painterly essays Davidson reflects on art, place, history and landscape. Distance and Memory is his testament to the cold, clear beauty of the north.
A painterly, quiet, meditatively passionate love letter to his home. Seasons, history, decay are captured and made timeless by his lover's gaze, his almost erotic attention to the details of his surroundings (both spatial and temporal). Davidson strikes me as someone who would be a marvellous friend to have.
Read it slowly, over the space of several weeks (preferably on long, silent winter evenings), and look up the painters and pictures he mentions.
This was a bit of a challenge for an American reader unfamiliar with the locales described. It is unfortunate that it was not possible to include illustrations of the paintings described, as I only knew a few of them. This series of vaguely connected essays focus on the aesthetics of northern landscapes through the year; the language is lovely. There is an interesting focus on Scandinavian influences on Scottish culture and food that I had not thought of. Additionally, an essay on Spar boxes, a type of Victorian folk art where miners made landscapes from the crystals they found is of particular interest.