Ann Cleeves' Shetland Read online

  Ravens and wind turbines.

  Here Magnus, a character inspired by an elderly Fair Islander who became a good friend, looks out at the ravens on his croft:

  There were ravens on his land, always had been since he was a peerie boy. Sometimes it was as if they were playing. You could see them in the sky wheeling and turning like children chasing each other in a game, then they’d fold up their wings and fall out of the sky. Magnus could feel how exciting that must be, the wind rushing past, the speed of the dive. Then they’d fly out of the fall and their calls sounded like laughter.

  The book’s theme is belonging. I’ve always been interested in the ways outsiders find to fit into their host communities. I needed a central character who was a Shetlander, but also an outsider, so Jimmy Perez was born. He comes from Fair Isle – considered by many Shetlanders as the edge of the known universe – and has Spanish ancestry, which gives him dark hair and olive skin. An Armada ship, blown well off-course, was wrecked on the rocks off Fair Isle; it was called El Gran Grifón and its mast tipped onto the rocks and enabled sixty survivors to climb ashore. I took this fact and used it to provide Jimmy’s background. I thought it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that one of the Spanish sailors had married an island lass and given his name to a new family. I was always told that Fair Isle’s famous knitting derived from the bright colours and Catholic iconography seen on the Spanish ship – crosses do indeed feature in the traditional patterns; but an expert has informed me that patterned knitting didn’t become common in the islands until much more recently, so perhaps the connection has just developed over time into an interesting story.

  The Lodeberrie.

  Most of the action in Raven Black takes place in the fictional settlement of Ravenswick. In my head, this is in south-east Mainland, somewhere between Sandwick and the glorious beach at Levenwick, though the geography is very much my own. I’ve created a headland and a valley leading down to the sea, and Fran’s home has a view of the island of Mousa. Jimmy Perez’s house, though, is quite real. This is the Lodeberrie, close to the Queen’s Hotel in Lerwick. The walls of the house stand in the water and you can still see the pulleys that were once used to bring goods ashore from the boats beneath. The owner is extremely tolerant, and is now used to tourists taking photos, and to the TV crews who film there. The BBC’s interior of the house has been built in the studio in Scotland and bears no resemblance to the inside of the Lodeberrie, though I understand that people do occasionally knock at the door and ask for Jimmy Perez.

  Lerwick waterfront.

  Another of the places mentioned in Raven Black is the Haa, the home belonging to Duncan Hunter. Jimmy went to high school with Duncan, and throughout the first four books he develops a relationship with Duncan’s ex-wife Fran. Duncan’s family were once lairds, owning land throughout the isles. When I was describing his family home, I had the Busta House Hotel in Brae in my head. Busta is an old laird’s house, once belonging to the Gifford family. It was extended over the years, and a new wing was built in the 1970s to provide accommodation for the oil executives who came to work in Sullom Voe, not very far away. The oldest part of the house has a beautiful long room, now used as a visitors’ lounge. And, if they’re lucky, visitors can enjoy music provided by the owners’ daughter, who is a harpist. There are wonderful stories attached to Busta House, involving feuds, a secret marriage, an illegitimate heir and a suspicious death. And of course it’s supposed to have a ghost. The house has a terraced walled garden leading down to the water and is popular with locals as a wedding venue. The BBC used it as a location when they were filming an adaptation of another book, Dead Water.

  The Busta House Hotel.

  Winter in Shetland is a time for indoor activity, and a passion for spinning and knitting is still shared by islanders and by people who have settled there more recently. Legend has it that different knitting patterns belonged to individual families, so if a man was lost at sea he could be identified by his jersey or gansey. In the nineteenth century women supplemented their income by knitting and made a major contribution to a community’s finances; even before that, Shetland-knitted stockings were traded through the Hanseatic League. Until very recently all Shetland children were taught to knit in school, and ‘bairns’ knitting classes’ are now organized in the Shetland Museum and in Whalsay and Unst.

  The natural fleeces from island sheep come in many different shades, from black (dark brown) through mourrit (a reddish-brown), grey and white. White is the most common colour and the most easy to dye. The fleeces are much sought-after by knitters away from Shetland, and the yarn is exported all over the world. While most of us think of Fair Isle patterns on jerseys, hats and mittens, there is a tradition of a very different style of knitting too, in which the yarn has been spun very thin and the finished product is a delicate lace. A young woman’s hand-knitted wedding veil traditionally had to be so fine that it could be pulled through her wedding ring.

  There is still a flourishing interest in all kinds of textile crafts in the islands – a degree course in the subject is taught at the college – and young designers have developed novel techniques and use authentic materials in exciting ways. People come from all over the world to Wool Week, when there is a full programme of workshops, lectures and social events. The Textile Museum in Gremista, Lerwick, has fine examples of knitting, and volunteers explain the art and craft of the islands’ textile tradition and give spinning demonstrations.

  Shetland sheep fleece.

  A Shetland lace bridal veil, which won a gold medal at the Great Exhibition in 1851.

  A Shetlander knits while carrying a basket of cut peat, c.1885.

  A good drying day on Fair Isle.

  Flying from Fair Isle to Mainland. The view out of the right window is across the Minn beach in Burra.

  In Shetland, the weather matters. Everyone knows which way the wind is blowing. Wind direction and speed influence which door you use to get into the house, whether the NorthLink ferry can dock in Aberdeen and whether the small planes to the outer islands can take off. These planes provide a vital service for residents in Fair Isle, Foula and the Out Skerries. When children from the out-isles reach the age of eleven they begin boarding in the hostel in the Anderson High School and it’s the small planes that take them back to school after the Christmas break. They also carry people to dental, hospital outpatient and hairdressing appointments and deliver newspapers and the post. Strong winds and fog can cause folk to be stranded and miss their connections south. Most islanders allow time for possible delay or cancellation, but it can be stressful for visitors, who don’t quite understand the impact of the weather on everyday life.

  Winter is a time of dramatic gales and seas that can lift rocks the size of a small child to the top of the highest cliffs. There is something exhilarating and elemental about watching the huge waves crash over the sea stacks, and tasting the salt in the air as spindrift blows inland. But sometimes the wind drops and the sky clears; winter is the time of year too when on a still, cloudless night it’s possible to see the Northern Lights, known in Shetland as the ‘mirrie dancers’. Shetland is probably the best place in the UK to view them, though I’ve never been lucky enough to experience the phenomenon.

  Aurora over Tingwall Loch.

  Replica skekler outfits, made by Ewan Balfour.

  In the past, Shetlanders had to make their own entertainment in the dark days of winter. While Christmas is now celebrated much as everywhere else in the UK, according to storyteller Elma Johnson, as quoted in The Shetland Times in 2009, it seems that in former times superstition played just as much a part as Christianity. Seven nights before Yule the trows were allowed up from their underground lairs. Trows are the little people who dwell beneath the islands and cause mischief and mayhem. There are many stories and tunes about them. The island settlements felt the need to protect their homes and belongings from these mythical folk and devised elaborate rituals, involving plaited animal-hair crosses and a she
ep’s skull. Special Yule cakes made from oats were baked on Christmas Eve, each a different size according to the age of the family members. The edges of the cakes were pinched into spikes and a hole was formed in the middle – they were meant to represent the sun, and presumably were made to ensure that spring would return.

  There is also a tradition of guizing: dressing up and performing sketches and plays to your friends and neighbours at New Year. I remember friends telling me about the work and the imagination that went into creating masks and costumes in Fair Isle. In the Shetland Museum there are examples of skekler dress – these were elaborate costumes made of straw, used by guizers in former times. These days the young people gather at the Market Cross in Lerwick to party and to see in the New Year. The island of Foula, though, still recognizes the Julian calendar and doesn’t celebrate New Year until 13 January!

  Preparing for Lerwick Up Helly Aa. Stacked against the wall are torches.

  Of course the biggest celebration to mark the passing of midwinter occurs on the last Tuesday of January in Lerwick. This is the fire festival of Up Helly Aa. Up Helly Aa re-creates a Viking celebration, but this isn’t a tradition handed down from Viking times. It was a Victorian creation, intended to replace more rowdy and disorganized midwinter activity. There are Up Helly Aa parades throughout the islands, but the grandest – pulling in visitors from all over the world – takes place in Lerwick.

  Preparations for Up Helly Aa begin as soon as the previous festival is over – in fact they begin before that. The person who leads the procession in all his Viking finery is known as the Guizer Jarl, and a man will know fifteen years in advance that it’s his turn to be Jarl; he is elected to the office by his fellow guizers. He will plan his life around this very special honour, and weddings, career moves and family celebrations all take second place to it. Up Helly Aa is a real community event, and although the parade itself is exclusively male, most of the people in the town take part. Up to a thousand guizers in nearly fifty squads make up the procession, which culminates in the burning of a beautifully built Viking galley in a play park in the centre of the town. Only the Jarl’s Squad dress up as Vikings. Squad members wear winged helmets, armour and shields and have all grown beards, in preparation for the day. The other squads take themselves less seriously and will have chosen a theme that mocks national politics, local events or celebrity culture. They will have prepared a sketch around the theme, and fishnet tights, corsets and wigs seem to be the preferred costume, leading some to give the day the nickname ‘Transvestite Tuesday’.

  Guizer Jarl Alan Jamieson in 2015.

  Wind carries sparks over the Viking galley.

  Costumes are an important element in the Up Helly Aa procession.

  Businesses, council offices and schools shut on the day following Up Helly Aa, and the whole of the town gears up for the festival throughout the day itself. Proceedings start with the posting of ‘the bill’ at the Market Cross, the proclamation of Up Helly Aa signed by the Guizer Jarl, and a commentary made up of rhymes and questions poking fun at the events of the previous year. After the broadcast of the BBC pilot of Shetland, reference was made to the television show in the bill – though naturally the writers had called it ‘Shitland’.

  At 10 a.m. the Jarl’s Squad assembles and processes through the streets with the galley, eventually ending up at the harbour, where photographs are taken. The march is accompanied by the Up Helly Aa song, to a Norwegian folk tune. When I brought a group of Norwegian journalists to the festival they recognized all the music played as a background to the day. A red raven banner flies over the town hall. The Squad spends the afternoon visiting old people’s homes and the hospital.

  This is all in preparation for the main event in the evening. Tourists gather in the streets to watch, and there is an air of expectation as spectators jostle for the best view along the route. At seven o’clock the street lights are turned off and the Guizer Jarl marches to the galley. A maroon goes up, flares are used to light all 1,000 torches and the parade begins, accompanied by a brass band playing the Up Helly Aa song. I’ve attended the festival in atrocious weather, when the rain is almost horizontal and sparks from the torches are blown towards the crowd, but the procession is never cancelled because of the weather and it never stops people turning out to watch.

  The climax of the event takes place in the ‘burning park’ – for the rest of the year it’s a play park enjoyed by the children of the town. The galley is pulled there and is surrounded by the torch-bearing guizers. When a maroon is fired, the guizers march around the galley, one of them calls for three cheers and all the torches are thrown into the galley, turning it into the most spectacular bonfire, lighting up the otherwise dark night sky.

  For visitors the evening ends there and they drift back to their hotels and guest houses, but for islanders the celebrations continue until the following day. The thirteen community halls in Lerwick prepare to host their guests and the guizer squads. Each hall has a team of hosts and hostesses who, with the help of friends, have arranged a feast of home-baking that will sustain people throughout the night. Guests who have been lucky enough to receive a ticket or invitation are expected to take part, too. All through the night the guizer squads arrive to perform their sketches to an appreciative audience, and there is music and dancing. The festivities wind down at about eight o’clock the following morning.

  Guizers circle the galley before setting it alight.

  The lights of Sullom Voe oil terminal compete with the aurora above.

  When I first visited the islands in winter, most general socializing took place in friends’ houses or perhaps at dances in the community halls. Now there are more extensive opportunities for indoor activities. Partly this is a result of negotiations with the oil companies when the Sullom Voe terminal was established. Shetland Island Council agreed to allow oil to come ashore at Sullom, but demanded a percentage of every barrel produced. That money was put into trusts to benefit the islanders and sustain the island way of life. So even small villages have their own swimming pool and sports centre, and the arts have been supported in a way that most communities in the rest of the UK would envy. Throughout the year there are dozens of music and arts festivals – though travel in midwinter can be unreliable, and Up Helly Aa is the only major event at that time of the year marketed to people from the south.

  However, two major recent developments at Hay’s Dock to the north of Lerwick provide education, entertainment and a chance for Shetlanders to meet up with their friends. The first is the Shetland Museum, a fabulous building that uses outside space and archive recordings of Shetland voices, as well as more traditional displays of artefacts. There is a replica lighthouse lens, full-size traditional boats (yoals) and some beautiful knitwear. I’ve attended a storytelling session there when tales of the trows – the mythical creatures who can lure you underground with their music – are told. And I’ve enjoyed the exhibitions of contemporary art and crafts in the gallery on the ground floor.

  The Shetland Museum at Hay’s Dock.

  More often, though, my visits to the museum have not been to look at the displays, but to visit the Hay’s Dock restaurant on the first floor. There were few good places to eat out when I first arrived in Shetland, but now there is an increased pride in the food produced in the islands and a willingness to use traditional recipes. Reestit mutton is sheep meat that has been salted and then air-dried, and reestit-mutton soup is now widely available. And the fish caught and cooked in Shetland will be as fresh as any you can get in the UK. The Scalloway Hotel decides its menus once it knows what the boats have caught, and Frankie’s Fish and Chip Shop in Brae is award winning. The best food in the islands is that which uses the traditions of island produce and baking and brings them up to date for a new generation. Each November the Shetland Food Fair takes place in the Clickimin Leisure Centre alongside the Christmas Craft Fair – a great place to sample and purchase treats for the festive season.

  Mareel performa
nce space.

  There was a big debate in Shetland before the arts-and-performance space of Mareel was built. ‘Mareel’ is a local word to describe the phosphorescent light seen on the water. It’s an ambitious building right on the shore, and at a time when funding was tight some people saw it as an extravagance that the community couldn’t afford. Now that it’s built, though, Mareel is a great resource for Shetland, and specifically for its young people. The cinema can screen films at the same time as they’re released in mainland UK and the auditorium is a music venue that attracts people with every taste. There are workshop spaces and rehearsal rooms, and students can learn to play, record and produce music to the highest standard. The building is home to Shetland Arts, the organization that encourages artistic endeavour of all kinds. And the bar has become a meeting place for Shetlanders of all ages; it’s often my first port of call for coffee when I arrive in the islands, because I know that I’ll probably bump into a friend there. In the evening there can be music as well as conversation. In Shetland the two often go hand-in-hand.

  Mareel attracts artists and organizations to the islands from all over the world. Musicians especially come for the festivals, which have become a joyous celebration of the islands’ love of tunes and song. Professional musicians use the centre to record their music because of the quality of the sound and the studios. The annual film festival, Screenplay, is curated by one of the UK’s most famous movie reviewers; and in the crime-fiction festival, Shetland Noir, the centre hosts the very best Nordic, Scottish and English crime writers.