The most recommended books about Glasgow

I still have my treasured original copy of Laidlaw by Willie McIlvanney, and also the more recently published edition. Laidlaw, as Willie said, is first and foremost a man, who just happens to be a policeman. My father was a detective, working on the front line, and we often saw the effect that had on him. So Laidlaw rang true to me, in its questioning, Who is the true monster among us? In its voice and rhythm, which sounded undeniably Scottish, and most of all, in its humanity. 

Laidlaw inspired me to write my book. It also inspired me to help set up Scotland’s International Crime Writing Festival Bloody Scotland and the annual McIlvanney award for the best Scottish crime book.

The Long Drop is a Scottish crime book like no other. 

It features an imagined night featuring two key figures in the terrible world of one of Scotland’s most notorious murderers Peter Manuel.

In this long night of the soul Peter Manuel and William Watt wander through Glasgow and its underbelly as Manuel leads Watt on a journey of lies, drink, and trickery.

It is Tartan Noir at its most terrifying. A Jekyll and Hyde story of a night based on true events.

As someone who loves original fantasies and as a big fan of Hearne’s Iron Druid series, I was delighted to find Ink & Sigil, the first book in a new series, set in the same world and filled with Hearne’s witty, snarky dialog.

Al MacBharrais’ magic lies in his talent to write sigils in enchanted ink, but even those spells can’t rid him of a bizarre curse that causes everyone who hears him talk to develop an unreasonable hatred for him.

Assisted by his demi-goddess secretary and a foul-mouthed, hard-drinking hobgoblin, Al navigates Scotland’s underworld in an attempt to solve the deaths of his apprentices and find the person or creature who cursed him.

The good news is there’s a sequel, Paper & Blood, which is just as much fun.

The moment I realized I was getting older was the moment I put two little pieces of toilet paper in my ears in the middle of a Mogwai show in Asheville, NC.

It was the loudest show I’d ever attended. And it was phenomenal.

Mogwai has been making cinematic music for a long time, and I came into awareness of the band with 2008’s “The Hawk is Howling.” They are epic, funny, mysterious, meditative, and relentless.

It’s no surprise that  Stuart Braithwaite’s book is perfect for the Mogwai fanbase in that it gives some insight into the band’s philosophy while maintaining a sense of mystery. I also like that Braithwaite doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously.

The story of Britain’s tearooms is often thought to have begun in London but it was Stuart Cranston and his sister Kate in Glasgow who were responsible for opening Scotland’s first public tearooms. This lovely book explores the very beginnings when Stuart Cranston’s decided to install a few tables and chairs at his tea retail store in 1875 so that customers could taste teas before buying. Kate followed suit but added her own distinctive style by employing Charles Rennie Mackintosh and his wife to design the now world-famous Willow Tea Rooms. The charming story links inextricably with tea, Glasgow, art, design and business and, since the original Willow on Sauchiehall Street has now been totally renovated and refurbished in Mackintosh style, Kinchin’s book is particularly valuable.

Recently adapted as a film by Yorgos Lanthimos and starring Emma Stone, Alasdair Gray’s novel of birth and creation is another example of the complicated and horrific birth stories that I find so fascinating.

When the dead body of a young, pregnant woman is pulled from the River Clyde in Glasgow, a local scientist, Godwin Baxter, takes it upon himself to create a new life, by installing the unborn baby’s brain in its mother’s head and bringing the new creation to life.

Gray’s grisly premise leads to a satire on education and complacency in light of social injustice. It's funny, and there are plenty of sly postmodern comments on reality and how we understand the past. Gray illustrated his own books, and his image of Bella as ‘Bella Caledonia’ is, I think, a brilliant image of a strong woman that has become iconic in Scotland and beyond.

I had the good fortune to hear Dr. Verghese speak after Cutting for Stone came out. It would be an understatement to say he was a gifted and enthralling speaker; he spoke for an hour without any notes, and his genuineness and warmth poured through. I loved that when I read this book, I could sense those qualities in his writing—like he was reading his book to me. 

As a physician, I enjoyed that Dr. Verghese peppered his book with clinical situations and loved even more that those scenarios were often “old school” ways of practicing medicine. I loved learning about a setting that was unknown to me—Kerala, India. I was also appreciative of how well Dr. Verghese depicted male and female characters alike. 

This book is an autobiography from a Scottish gentleman who has survived many years of trauma.

The reason I loved this book is because not only did it tell a story of a resilient human but he also shares his positive mindset and ethos towards life. I am a very positive person, I have overcome many traumas and life experiences, it is refreshing to read a story of another happy, healthy survivor of trauma.

The book is not sad, or depressing as the author does not seek pity or empathy. Alongside this inspirational story he is also a well-established psychic medium, who juggled his spiritual journey alongside his personal issues and abuse. A truly inspirational and interesting book.

Before I read Garnethill, my perception of the typical Glasgow crime novel protagonist was that of the hard-drinking, rule-breaking, middle-aged, divorced male detective – in other words, the usual cliché. Maureen O’Donnell shatters that. A survivor of childhood abuse, she’s treated as an unreliable eyewitness and potential murder suspect due to her mental health history and turns detective to entrap and unmask a killer who’s been targeting others like her – women whose voices are ignored because they’re deemed to be “crazy”. Packed with colourful characters and raw, angry prose, Denise Mina’s debut novel has a rough-and-ready quality compared to her later work, but which is entirely suited to the subject matter – a defiant battle cry against both the men who abuse their power and those who look the other way.

This final book in the Jas Anderson trilogy sees Jas investigating a murder and a case of police corruption, but there is so much more: sectarian rivalry, harsh city life, a grieving mother, a revengeful wife, suffering children, and my two favourite gay protagonists, Jas himself and the ever-unstable Stevie. There’s a lot of testosterone on show. Explicit sex abounds, but it is never included for effect. It’s born of need and, sometimes, love. It never repels me. The conversation is in Glasgow dialect. Please don’t let that deter you: this story is powerful. Last pages count, and Some Kind of Love has a perfect ending.