Bookworm

Despite the torrential weather leaving parts of Charlotte Square doing a passable impersonation of the Somme, the final weekend of the Edinburgh International Book Festival boasted several unforgettable events. Michael Scheuer, the former chief of the CIA unit tasked with dealing with Osama Bin Laden, was disarming charm itself (despite provocations from a gentleman in the front row who seemed to have needed a fair amount of Dutch courage to make his point – “shite” – before being ejected). Whenever Scheuer outlined why we are in the mess we are in – the Israeli-American lobby, reliance on oil, naïve ideas about how quickly democracies develop, Cameron’s warmongering in Libya – Liberal Edinburgh sighed in agreement. When he outlined his solutions – forget about women’s rights, build a wall away to keep Mexicans out, bring back rendition and let the Middle East sort itself out – Liberal Edinburgh’s collective jaws hit the floor.

PEA SHOOTER

That evening, my counterpart at Scotland on Sunday, Stuart Kelly, chaired the event with Adam Levin, one of the most ambitious and promising young American writers. To demonstrate an aspect of his novel The Instructions, the pair built a “pennygun” – a plastic bottle, balloon and coin-based projectile weapon – and proceeded to fire off a few rounds. Kelly’s aim was dreadful, missing a flipchart target by a good two feet. Levin’s hit the metal bar at the top of said chart and ricocheted back to the audience, some of whom ducked for cover. The final extravaganza, Alasdair Gray’s Fleck starring half of contemporary Scottish literature, went surprisingly well, with enthusiastic authors saying afterwards “it’s over”, “it wasn’t a disaster” and “we’ll never do it again”. Perhaps every year should end with a Book Festival Gang Show.

PEE SHOOTER

While Edinburgh is over for another year, Wigtown looms, with a bijou programme ranging from Sharia law and cybercrime to work by Janice Galloway, Maggie O’Farrell and Robyn Young. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the programme is Robert Twigger as Writer-in-Residence, and also offering advice on desert survival and birch-back canoeing on the Bladnoch. Either that, or Sally Magnusson on the history of urine.