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Night Falls on Ardnamurchan The Twilight of a Crofting Family
Since its first publication in 1984, Night Falls in Ardnamurchan has become a classic account of the life and death of a Highland community.
The author weaves his own humorous and perceptive account of crofting with extracts from his father's journal - a terse, factual and down to earth vision of the day-to-day tasks of crofting life.
It is an unusual and memorable story that also illuminates the shifting, often tortuous relationships between children and their parents. Alasdair Maclean reveals his own struggle to come to terms with his background and the isolated community he left so often and to which he returned again and again.
In this isolated community is seen a microcosm of something central to Scottish identity - the need to escape against the tug of home.
The author weaves his own humorous and perceptive account of crofting with extracts from his father's journal - a terse, factual and down to earth vision of the day-to-day tasks of crofting life.
It is an unusual and memorable story that also illuminates the shifting, often tortuous relationships between children and their parents. Alasdair Maclean reveals his own struggle to come to terms with his background and the isolated community he left so often and to which he returned again and again.
In this isolated community is seen a microcosm of something central to Scottish identity - the need to escape against the tug of home.
224 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 1984
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102 people want to read
About the author
Alasdair Maclean
17 books1 followerAlasdair Maclean (1926 - 1994) was a Scottish poet and writer. Born in Glasgow, he left school at 14 and took a variety of jobs, mostly as a labourer. He did National Service in India and Malaya, and lived for ten years in Canada. From 1966 to 1970 he attended Edinburgh University as a mature student, graduating with an M.A. in English.
He began to write poetry at the age of 20, but wrote only very sporadically until 1966. His first book of poems, From the Wilderness was the Poetry Book Society Choice for 1973. His autobiographical book Night Falls on Ardnamurchan weaves his own humorous and perceptive account of the crofting life, with extracts from his father’s journal.
He began to write poetry at the age of 20, but wrote only very sporadically until 1966. His first book of poems, From the Wilderness was the Poetry Book Society Choice for 1973. His autobiographical book Night Falls on Ardnamurchan weaves his own humorous and perceptive account of the crofting life, with extracts from his father’s journal.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
August 4, 2023
This is truly a hidden gem of Scottish writing.
The poet, Alasdair Maclean, writes with such emotion and description that it almost feels like music rather than a deep, personal story.
Ardnamurchan is the most Westerly point in mainland Britain. Located in Scotland, about halfway up and all the way West, it is a stunningly beautiful, remote, and wild place. I picked up this book at the Ardnamurchan lighthouse shop when spending a week near the little township of Portuairk, near Sanna Bay. It was early June, and the weather was stunning. I read this little book on Sanna Bay, in the dunes, along the cliffs and whilst bobbing in the sea on my packraft; the very places the author wrote of with such love and angst.
Maclean describes the history of Ardnamurchan, the people, and the way of life as a crofter living in such a remote and isolated place. As an accomplished (though little known) poet, whose work focused much on the nature of Sanna, Maclean delivers writing that will make you laugh out loud, and even in places, bring a tear to your eye.
Ardnamurchan is a part of the world everyone should visit, and they should read this book when they are there! You will be intoxicated by them both, and afterwards, as you walk the streets in whatever urban landscape you occupy, you will not help but smell the summer honeysuckle, hear the crash of the Sanna waves, or smell the briney air - as Maclean did often in his later years in Fife.
A truly beautiful, personal, and educating read. This remains one of my most loved pieces.
The poet, Alasdair Maclean, writes with such emotion and description that it almost feels like music rather than a deep, personal story.
Ardnamurchan is the most Westerly point in mainland Britain. Located in Scotland, about halfway up and all the way West, it is a stunningly beautiful, remote, and wild place. I picked up this book at the Ardnamurchan lighthouse shop when spending a week near the little township of Portuairk, near Sanna Bay. It was early June, and the weather was stunning. I read this little book on Sanna Bay, in the dunes, along the cliffs and whilst bobbing in the sea on my packraft; the very places the author wrote of with such love and angst.
Maclean describes the history of Ardnamurchan, the people, and the way of life as a crofter living in such a remote and isolated place. As an accomplished (though little known) poet, whose work focused much on the nature of Sanna, Maclean delivers writing that will make you laugh out loud, and even in places, bring a tear to your eye.
Ardnamurchan is a part of the world everyone should visit, and they should read this book when they are there! You will be intoxicated by them both, and afterwards, as you walk the streets in whatever urban landscape you occupy, you will not help but smell the summer honeysuckle, hear the crash of the Sanna waves, or smell the briney air - as Maclean did often in his later years in Fife.
A truly beautiful, personal, and educating read. This remains one of my most loved pieces.
August 27, 2020
A re-read.
March 6, 2014
Who would have thought winkle picking was so fraught with danger, and interesting to read about.
July 24, 2022
This is a curious and disjointed book. Not at all what I expected. Perhaps two stars is being particularly harsh but I found the final third of the book to be incredibly heavy going.
The author has a writing style which feels like it is trying too hard. Almost over-written.
The premise of the first two thirds of the book works fairly well. It gives you an insight into a crofting community that neither provides, nor needs, deeply personal details of the author or his family to create the desired (relative) understanding of crofting in Sanna.
From the death of the author’s father, the focus of the book changes. It is much more focussed on the authors own struggles with identity and quest for his own literary success/peace. This section lacked focus to me and the juxtaposition with the first two thirds was too great.
Despite not enjoying it overly, I suspect I will re-read this to see if I have been too harsh.
The author has a writing style which feels like it is trying too hard. Almost over-written.
The premise of the first two thirds of the book works fairly well. It gives you an insight into a crofting community that neither provides, nor needs, deeply personal details of the author or his family to create the desired (relative) understanding of crofting in Sanna.
From the death of the author’s father, the focus of the book changes. It is much more focussed on the authors own struggles with identity and quest for his own literary success/peace. This section lacked focus to me and the juxtaposition with the first two thirds was too great.
Despite not enjoying it overly, I suspect I will re-read this to see if I have been too harsh.
September 22, 2021
A beautifully written memoir/diary about the last generation of a family to farm their croft on a remote peninsula, Adnamurchan, in eastern Scotland. The author himself is a poet who went back to live near the old family croft after decades away. The task he set himself was to take excerpts from his own father's daily journals kept over decades, which recorded daily life on the croft, then provide his (the author's) own commentary on the habits, rituals, people, and places as he experienced them while growing up and as a young adult. Life on that remote peninsula was both incredibly harsh and isolated and incredibly beautiful. Maclean's writing is complex and this is not a quick read (despite being just more than 200 pages long), but often I marveled at his gorgeous use of the language and his ability to describe things in a most memorable way. Published in 1984, I believe the book is out of print, but I was able to get a used copy online for not too much.
May 6, 2022
Absolutely loved the account of the life of crofters through the editing of the author’s father’s journal. At times sad at others hilarious but always informative. The winkle gathering, the rites of visiting one’s neighbours and the making of hay for the winter are enormously uplifting. However the book was spoilt a little for me when the author writes his own journal and gives us his impression of the modern world. Alasdair Maclean was just overly serious and something of a self confessed depressive and loner. An unfulfilled poet it would also seem. He was clearly a most able writer with a wide vocabulary but I was left a little saddened by the all encompassing gloom of the last fifty pages.
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December 2, 2025A fascinating account of the lost life of the crofting community at Sanna. Alasdair’s father’s diaries accompanied by Alasdair’s interpretation shows how hard a life it was in the 60’s and 70’s and why the community died out. Alasdair’s own diaries in the 2nd half of the book are a little harder work and reflect someone who probably was struggling with his mental health and perhaps his sexuality. However, his thoughts on what tourism has done to Sanna are very pertinent today for many many Highland communities
July 19, 2022
I found this in a charity shop and bought it because we recently went campervaning on Ardnamurchan. We didn't make it to Sanna this time because the weather turned. Anyway, I didn't expect to enjoy the book this much. The life of crofters was hard but it was something they were born into. They knew how to deal with it. I wouldn't survive, for sure, in those conditions. This is a good description of the days gone by. The epilogue is a bit odd but it's only ten pages or so.
December 27, 2020
Great book and overview on how crofting communities have changed from a personal and familial perspective. A little self indulging at the end but an honest personal view of the decay modernity can bring at the cost of tradition and natures inheritance as we exploit or abandoned her land. Worth a read.
March 12, 2020
I really enjoyed the first two thirds of this book, with its fascinating insights into an almost alien world. I didn't feel the last part of the book worked nearly as well and I found myself wishing it would end.
March 22, 2014
Subtitled 'The Twilight of a Crofting Family', poet author Alasdair Maclean captures the decline of a small farming community on the western edge of the British mainland with a raw, brutal and often bitter honesty. Based on his father's diaries and his own journal he describes the daily life of Sanna, a tiny Scottish village which lies on the rim of an ancient volcanic eruption.
This beautiful wild place has different memories for us - I spent a childhood caravanning holiday here in 1971, in the village of Achnaha, on a campsite owned by Mr Archibald Henderson. Nine years later I returned with Sally for our honeymoon - spending a wet cold week in a static caravan owned by the same elderly Archibald Henderson and his wife. Twenty five years later, we again returned; sadly but not unexpectedly, Archibald Henderson was no more.
Ardnamurchan is a place of wealth and poverty. A surfeit of wild and stunning scenery draws those who find beauty in such places. But like us, they come and go. Those who stay survive, not prosper. As Maclean writes, "There is no spiritual value in poverty or in isolation in themselves, or if there is, I was too busy being hungry or lonely to find it."
But there is an extraordinary spirituality in this place, for truly, 'blessed are the poor'. Poverty so often begets generosity; selfishness breeds more freely in stately homes than slums. Maclean's advice to newcomers rings true, "When in doubt give both tea and shortbread. Only gold ingots will ensure you a better reputation for good taste and generosity."
With the demise of this community, we have lost to eternity a culture, a history, and a language. Maclean seeks to preserve some of it, perhaps as his father also tried. With characteristic candour he dismisses the sterile history of those who would capture the antiquity of this place without understanding it, "Names preserved in that fashion, the few that are preserved, are preserved scientifically, not culturally; they are perpetuated by means of ink, not semen."
Anguish fills the rough hewn confession of his inability to recall the names of places he frequented as a child, "Because of my carelessness a pleasantly useful place and the row upon row of shadowy earlier fishermen who frequented it have slipped an inch or two more deeply into the great bog that is limbo."
Rich in language, powerful in emotion, this painful little book reminds us of the inestimable value of the history of little things and small places.
This beautiful wild place has different memories for us - I spent a childhood caravanning holiday here in 1971, in the village of Achnaha, on a campsite owned by Mr Archibald Henderson. Nine years later I returned with Sally for our honeymoon - spending a wet cold week in a static caravan owned by the same elderly Archibald Henderson and his wife. Twenty five years later, we again returned; sadly but not unexpectedly, Archibald Henderson was no more.
Ardnamurchan is a place of wealth and poverty. A surfeit of wild and stunning scenery draws those who find beauty in such places. But like us, they come and go. Those who stay survive, not prosper. As Maclean writes, "There is no spiritual value in poverty or in isolation in themselves, or if there is, I was too busy being hungry or lonely to find it."
But there is an extraordinary spirituality in this place, for truly, 'blessed are the poor'. Poverty so often begets generosity; selfishness breeds more freely in stately homes than slums. Maclean's advice to newcomers rings true, "When in doubt give both tea and shortbread. Only gold ingots will ensure you a better reputation for good taste and generosity."
With the demise of this community, we have lost to eternity a culture, a history, and a language. Maclean seeks to preserve some of it, perhaps as his father also tried. With characteristic candour he dismisses the sterile history of those who would capture the antiquity of this place without understanding it, "Names preserved in that fashion, the few that are preserved, are preserved scientifically, not culturally; they are perpetuated by means of ink, not semen."
Anguish fills the rough hewn confession of his inability to recall the names of places he frequented as a child, "Because of my carelessness a pleasantly useful place and the row upon row of shadowy earlier fishermen who frequented it have slipped an inch or two more deeply into the great bog that is limbo."
Rich in language, powerful in emotion, this painful little book reminds us of the inestimable value of the history of little things and small places.
June 21, 2015
Not normally the type of book I read, but this was tremendous. Beautifully written with some wonderfully amusing and yet painfully poignant recollections.
January 6, 2014
Mooi boek, vooral het deel dat over zijn vader gaat. Ik ken de streek, ben er zelfs meermalen geweest. Dat maakt het nog boeiender. Had soms dat zware gevoel op de solar plexus; heimwee!
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews