“ At the end of Canongate, the prolongation of High Street, we come out on a large open square. The palace of Holyrood is before us.Standing in a hollow, and surrounded by high hills, the aspect of the palace is most sombre. From the moment you cross the threshold, a thousand sad thoughts assail you. You are in the home of Mary Stuart. Everything speaks to you of her. Her sweet, tragic face, her noble presence, her thoughtful brow—you see all again in these halls instinct with her souvenir. They haunt the place as they still haunt the memory of the Scotch. ”
Max O'Rell
Summary
"Friend Mac Donald" by Max O'Rell is a literary exploration of Scottish culture, identity, and humor, interweaving stories, historical reflections, and insights into national character. Set against the backdrop of Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Aberdeen, the work examines themes of hospitality, the British Empire, and the distinctive intellectual and comedic traits of Scots, contrasting them with their English counterparts.
Through vivid descriptions of landscapes, traditions, and the enduring legacy of figures like Mary Stuart, O'Rell celebrates Scotland’s resilience and pride, portraying its people as guardians of a unique heritage. The text combines Scotland’s role within the Empire with an affirmation of its separate cultural spirit.
Quotes from Friend Mac Donald (Max O'Rell)
“ To tell the truth, the wit of, I will not say, an Englishman, but a Cockney, is not within the reach of the Scot. Jokes, play upon words, and bantering are not in his line. A pun will floor him completely; but I hope to be able to prove, by means of a few anecdotes, that Donald has real wit, and humour above all—humour of the light, subtle kind, that would pass by a Cockney without making the least impression.I do not wish to say that there is more intelligence in Scotland than in England; but I can in all security say there is more intellectuality. ”
“ In Glasgow this does not shock you more than it would in Manchester or Birmingham; but, in the romantic city of Edinburgh, even the whistle of the railway engine annoys you; the cap and kilt are sadly felt wanting, and you almost want to stop the passers-by and ask them: "Where are your kilts?" You feel as if you were cheated out of something.Alas! the national costume of the Scotch is almost a thing of the past: it is no longer a dress—it is a get-up. ”
