Ian Rankin has hardly missed a year of the Edinburgh International Books Festival since his first, memorable days reporting it as a student in 1985. Here he explains why, despite the growth of literary events in recent years, it remains special
To the Book Fest to see Salman Rushdie. Very entertaining.
My first memories of the Edinburgh international book festival are as a student journalist for a short-lived magazine called Festival Times. This was in 1985, and the above is verbatim from my diary entry for 16 August. (I just hope my journalism was more considered.) On a typical day I would attend a talk on the history of claret-drinking in Scotland, spot Melvyn Bragg in a crowd, buy some books, and interview Timothy Mo or William Trevor (making sure to get an autograph).
I had written a novel of my own by that stage, though it wasn't published until 1986 and it was a number of years before I received a letter inviting me to participate as an author rather than a reporter or a fan. I remain a fan, and last year you would have seen me queueing to listen to Alan Moore; in previous years I've been entertained by Muriel Spark, Harold Pinter, Angela Carter and dozens more. I've been privileged to appear onstage with, among others, PD James, Antonia Fraser and Gordon Brown, and this year I'll be quizzing the musician James Yorkston on his "touring diaries" ? and also having a go at "acting", along with other authors, under the guiding hand of Alasdair Gray.
In recent years, literary festivals have bloomed like a vast, well-tended garden, but Edinburgh remains very special. There's something for everyone, with a brilliant children's strand as well as food, drink and music. Last year, the incoming director, Nick Barley, use the famed Spiegeltent for a series of improvised evenings. You'd never be sure if you were going to hear new songs by King Creosote or be regaled by authors reciting their favourite works of erotica. The festival has always been a forum for political, environmental, scientific and philosophical debate, and it's fun to watch the crowds exiting an event in heated discussion of the topic ? discussions that continue over wine or an ice-cream.
Part of the unique flavour of the Edinburgh international book festival comes from its setting. It is slap-bang in the middle of the city, at the busiest time of the year, and yet it remains a relative oasis of calm. Situated in Charlotte Square Gardens, protected yet accessible, it cannot sprawl. There is a focus to the programming and to the running of the festival site. You can spend whole days there (as I have) and never be bored.
Favourite moments? Muriel Spark, reading from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie; Harold Pinter, soon after a major operation, filled with anti-war fervour; the crossword maestro Araucaria, explaining the devilry of his art; the night the power failed, but a prize-giving went on regardless. (Too many highlights, in fact, now that I've started listing them.)
Admittedly, there have been disappointments, too. My diary for 1985 records that I missed a talk by James Baldwin after a very late night. I also ended the month near-bankrupt, having been greedy with those book purchases. But I was undaunted ? quite the opposite: I've hardly missed a year since. Come rain or shine (and it can rain in Edinburgh in August), you'll find me at Charlotte Square most days, in the audience at a talk, or queueing for ice-cream, or seeing Melvyn Bragg in a crowd.
All of it very, very entertaining.
Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2011/jun/16/edinburgh-book-festival-ian-rankin
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