What does a Librarian want with a PhD, anyway?

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Few people in Glasgow knew that I had an unfinished first PhD guiltily lurking in my past, when I announced I wanted to do a PhD. It would actually be my second attempt. I’m told that someone (an academic?) asked that memorable and somewhat hurtful question, ‘What does a librarian want with a PhD, anyway?’

Chained to the shelves – Wimborne Minster Chained Library (Wikipedia)

I realised with a jolt, yesterday morning, that I would be retiring from librarianship exactly fifteen years to the day, since I submitted my thesis to the University of Glasgow. I never managed to cease being a librarian in order to become a full-time academic, because I had family responsibilities in Glasgow, and the chances of a full career-change without relocation were limited, to say the least. However, if I entered librarianship with the unfulfilled expectation of soon having a PhD from Exeter, and the aspiration to become a scholar-librarian …. well, I did achieve the latter aspiration. After getting the Glasgow PhD, I became partially seconded to research three years later, and I’ll continue as a part-time researcher when I’m unshackled from the library shelves.

I don’t know who it was that queried whether a librarian actually needed a PhD, more than twenty years ago. It’s probably a good thing I don’t know! However, if I could show that individual how I’ve just spent my afternoon, then maybe they’d begin to understand.

The other day, an academic colleague said they were putting a student in touch with me, to advise them about resources for a project. This afternoon, I was working from home as a librarian, so I decided to spend the time finding suitable resources for my enquirer. I had in mind a lever-arch file from my own research activities, that I knew was in my study-alcove.

Subject Specialist

[Scottish] ResearchFish

The more I thought about the query, the more things I thought of suggesting. I looked at my own monograph, for a start, along with a couple of essay collections that I’ve contributed to. I compiled a list, mostly but not entirely from the library catalogue. (I tweaked a few catalogue entries whilst I was at it. What does an academic want with a library qualification?, one might ask!) I The family balefully eyed the dining-room table that they were hoping to eat off, as I moved aside the ancient and modern books that were gaily strewn across its surface. However, I’m fairly content that I’ve done my preparation to help with the query. I’ve also enjoyed an afternoon in the company of old friends – the compilers, authors and editors of all those books!

A Value-Added Librarian

Listen, I wouldn’t have known any of those resources if I hadn’t done that PhD. I wouldn’t have known what the arguments were. I wouldn’t have known how nineteenth and early twentieth century song-collectors viewed their collections, nor the metaphors they used to describe them, nor which collections might be of particular interest. I wouldn’t subsequently have collaborated on The Historical Music of Scotland database. And if I hadn’t gone on researching, I wouldn’t have known about some of the more recent materials, either.

I kennt his faither! (A Scot knows what that means)

There might have been times when others wondered who I thought I was, but I am absolutely certain that it has come in useful!

‘Repugnant to Modern Feelings of Propriety’? The Most Beautiful Scottish Song

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

I’ve started listening to another Audible book, but it’ll take a while for me to finish it. To take a break from listening, I sidled over to the piano and played a one-eyed rendition of my favourite song.

Lady Anne Bothwell’s Lament (Baloo, my Boy)

My Song Gems (Scots), edited by James Wood and Learmont Drysdale (London: Vincent Music Co., 1908), is a nice big score that sits comfortably on the piano stand. This song is arranged by Finlay Dun, a Victorian arranger. As I squinted at the words, they didn’t look like what I remembered hearing sung from Cedric Thorpe Davie and George McVicar’s The Oxford Scottish Song Book (1969). What was going on? I suspected Davie and McVicar had taken their words from George Farquhar Graham and James Wood’s mid-Victorian Songs of Scotland. ‘You’ll see’, I told my bemused son. ‘The words will have been too smutty for Victorian ears, so Graham and Wood changed them.’

Davie used their words – which were perfectly acceptable for a collection intended both for classroom and adult use – but his musical setting is updated.

A Deserted Mother and Child

Graham and Wood’s collection revealed in the footnotes that it was an old ballad collected by Bishop Percy. However, Graham said that …

The Old Ballad, though poetically meritorious, is so coarse in most of its stanzas as to be repugnant to modern feelings of propriety. We have, therefore, adopted only the first stanza of it, the additional stanzas here given having been written by a friend of the Publisher.

Songs of Scotland (Edinburgh: Wood & Co., 1850), Vol.2, pp.30-31

Percy’s original version is in the National Library of Scotland’s Digital Gallery (Reliques of Ancient Poetry, 1767). Today, the lyrics are inoffensive!

And here’s the Cedric Thorpe Davie setting using Graham and Wood’s sanitized words:-

Kathleen McKellar Ferguson sings the Oxford Scottish Song Book version, divinely, here on YouTube

The Song Gems (Scots) version is in modern English and the text has been partially rewritten again –  it falls halfway between the original and the sanitized words! And the musical arrangement? Straight from Graham and Wood’s collection.

Percy, verse 3: Smile not as thy father did, to cozen maids, nay God forbid / Bot yett I feire, thou wilt gae neire Thy fatheris hart, and face to beire.

Wood and Drysdale, verse 2: Smile not as thy father did, to cozen maids, may God forbid / For in thine eye his look I see, The tempting look that ruin’d me …

Olde English or modern, take your pick!

As for Graham and Wood, or Thorpe and McVicar? Not a ruinous smile to be be seen! The lady may have been deserted, but no hint that she had first been seduced!

YouTube video of my recent RCS Exchange Talk

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

I’ve linked to this on my Publications page as a permanent record, but if you’re interested, you can see my talk on YouTube now:-

Engagement activity: RCS Exchange Talk, Monday 29 January 2024: ‘From Magic Lantern to Microphone: the Scottish Music Publishers and Pedagogues inspiring Hearts and Minds through Song’ – YouTube recording

Most Memorable Scottish Songs Today (Library Perspective!)

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Preparing for my Good Morning Scotland interview the other day, as I mentioned, I drew up something halfway between a mind-map and a spreadsheet to clarify in my mind how old the songs were, and who they were associated with. I had also – ever the librarian – looked up which of the Whittaker Library songbooks actually contained the songs in question. I wasn’t looking for every copy we had, just a rough overview. I thought you might be interested to see what our library patrons have access to. 

It is significant that there are only two genuinely old songs – the last two, by Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns. Otherwise, they’re popular songs that are Scottish, but folksongs? Not exactly traditional or old, but certainly much beloved today. So, will there still be popular songs in fifty years’ time? Yes, of course – but maybe they haven’t even been written yet! 

Here is the list – in order of popularity – that Visit Scotland compiled from their recent survey:-

The Singing Kettle, book 2
  1. You cannae shove yer grannie aff a bus – it’s in Cilla Fisher and Artie Tresize’s second Singing Kettle music book (1989). Also in Ewan McVicar’s One Singer, one Song (1990) and his Scottish Songs for Younger Children (a words-only book, 2002); and in Traditional Folksongs and Ballads of Scotland Vol.3 (1994).
  2. Donald, where’s your Troosers? Sung by Calum Kennedy and published by our friends Mozart Allan in 1959, and by Andy Stewart, published by Kerr’s in 1960. We listened to Andy’s rendition at home last night – and it still makes us laugh.
  3. Coulter’s Candy – (hint: it’s pronounced ‘Cooters’) in Singing Kettle [book 1]; Katherine Campbell and Ewan McVicar’s Traditional Scottish Songs and Music (St Andrews: Leckie & Leckie, 2001); and Ewan McVicar’s Scottish Songs for Younger Children.
  4. Wee Willie Winkie – I know it, and we have it in the library, but not in the version I know!
  5. Skinny Malinky – in Wilma Paterson and Alasdair Gray’s Songs of Scotland (1996)
  6. Three Craws – in the second Singing Kettle book; and Jimmie McGregor’s Singing our Own (1970)
  7. The Jeely Piece Song – the library has Adam McNaughtan’s CD, The Words that I used to know (Greentrax, 2000). It’s also known as The Skyscraper Wean and can be found in Morag Henriksen and Barrie Carson Turner’s Sing Around Scotland (1985).
  8. Bonnie wee Jeannie McColl – first sung by Will Fyffe in 1929, and more recently by the Alexander Brothers, it appears in 100 Great Scottish Songs (Dublin: Soodlum,1986)
  9. An oldie: Walter Scott’s, Scots wha’ ha’e – it’s in many, many collections! I found it in Traditional Folksongs and Ballads of Scotland Vol.3; and Wilma Paterson’s Songs of Scotland.
  10. Another oldie; Robert Burns’s My heart’s in the Highlands. People probably know the version sung by Karine Polwart in 2001, and Fara in 2014. There are much earlier versions in printed books, of course, but I suspect not what today’s enthusiasts are looking for!

This is a YouTube link to Karine Polwart’s, ‘My heart’s in the Highlands.

Wilma Paterson’s Songs of Scotland, illustrated by Alasdair Gray
Traditional Folksongs & Ballads of Scotland Vol.3

Here’s a Health, Bonnie Scotland, to Thee (an old song by G. A. Lee)

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

George Alexander Lee published this ‘Scottish song’ in America with A. Fleetwood in New York ca. 1830, whilst this London publication by Alex. Lee & Lee is estimated at 1832 by the National Library of Scotland.

I’ve been wondering how old the expression ‘Bonnie Scotland’ actually is – certainly, this song is sixty years older than the alleged instance in the novel cited on LiveBreatheScotland.com. (I did a search and found ‘bonnie’ but not ‘bonnie Scotland’, so I won’t perpetuate the apparent fallacy by naming the book.)

Has anyone encountered the expression prior to 1830? A friend has suggested the date would be consistent with the years between George IV’s trip to Scotland and before Victoria and Albert’s later acquisition of Balmoral.

National Pride and Expats: Scottish themed songs in the Diaspora

A bit of early morning Googling does suggest that the phrase has been popular with visitors and nostalgic expats. Am I right in reaching this conclusion? The fact that the ostensibly Scottish song was first published in New York and London, not Edinburgh or Glasgow – would appear to bear this out. The song appears in Scottish publications a couple of decades later.

In the Lester S Levy Collection at Johns Hopkins Sheridan Libraries and University Museums

For your enjoyment, here’s a Victor recording of 1912, from the Library of Congress. (My understanding is that it is now in the public domain.)

Cover Image by Frank Winkler from Pixabay