Raw Spirit: the Hunt for the Perfect Dram - Iain Banks > Reviews (1)

I am often embarrassed to say that I am not a whisky drinker. I feel that this is some great failing in me on a social level. I know very little about whisky and am unable to make more than the simplest distinction between malts; I can tell which are distinctly peaty and now and then I will sip a Laphroig although I have been informed by those in the know that if I find a whisky such as this palatable I should, surely, enjoy other single malts. If someone mentions to me that they have a terrific malt I really should try I am forced to admit that it would be wasted on me. I can appreciate that some are better than others and knowing that special malts command special prices I would rather people did not waste this precious nectar on someone like me who is a malt philistine.

I wonder if whisky appreciation is something which, like the best single malts, will come to me with maturity. This is precisely what happened with Iain Banks; he became a whisky lover later in life and now considers himself something of a connoisseur although he does admit that his expertise is lacking in comparison with other whisky aficionados. I though that, perhaps, if I learned more about whisky it might enhance my appreciation (and help me hold my own amongst experts!)

This is Banks first foray into the world of non-fiction writing and throughout the book he can’t help reminding the reader just how lucky he is to have been asked to write it. The initial premise was that Banks would be driven between distilleries in a taxi – whether primarily to add a touch of quirkiness or to allow Banks to imbibe without fear of breaking the law is unclear. However, Banks insisted that if he were to accept the commission he would do the driving himself and so be able to indulge in his other great passion. To make sure he would not drive while over the limit he would take with him some tasting/driving companions and as he suspected would be the case, he had no shortage of volunteers.

From the beginning of Raw Spirit Banks issues caveats at alarming regularity. He will not be describing the layout/ surroundings/location of each distillery he visits unless there is something of particular merit or distinction about it. He will describe the process of whisky manufacture once only and not mention practices particular to individual distilleries unless they are particularly notable and differ immensely from the usual process. He will not even take great pains to describe the tastes/aromas of each whisky he tastes unless one happens to have something totally different from other malts.

So what, you may be thinking, is Banks going to talk about for 384 pages? The answer may leave whisky enthusiasts more than a little disappointed. I can understand why he chooses not to inflict upon the reader a full description of the premises of each and every Scottish whisky distillery when they are essentially almost identical in terms of architecture and processes carried out but what Banks offers us instead is several pages of lyrical waxing about the author’s cherished Land Rover.

And later he treats us to outpourings about a Porsche, then a Jaguar and interspersed amongst all this, we get to hear Banks eulogise about motorbikes. Far from seeing Banks as an action man who lives life to the full and takes great pleasure from his pursuits, one of the writers I most admire quickly became, for me, a reviled Jeremy Clarkson type – the sort of man who gets uncomfortably up ones nose! When he embarks upon a series of hymns of praise to what he lovingly calls GLRs (great little roads) I thought carefully about whether this was a book I wanted to continue reading. Frankly, cars and driving bore me rigid; I am a great advocate of public transport and take every opportunity to look smugly upon colleagues who arrive at work late because of car woes. If I had to provide a witness report to the police which involved a vehicle I might hazard a guess about colour but probably couldn’t identify the model or style. When I pick up a book that I envisage will be full of quirky tales and interesting facts about malt whisky I am less than impressed to be confronted with stories from behind the driving wheel. Even the references to the beautiful countryside in which the distilleries are situated are short and infrequent.

You get the impression at times that having deliberately excluded vast chunks Banks is looking for something to fill the time with. It reminded me of a desperate would-be raconteur clutching at straws to amuse his audience – memorable meals, sci-fi conventions, laptop computers and smoking are all digressions made by Banks along the way. While several of them are fairly entertaining diversions, they do not always have any particular pertinence and overall this book just becomes a collection of musings from the pen of Iain Banks with occasion references to the nominal subject matter of the book.

This is not to say, though, that I had not learnt anything about Scottish malt whisky by the end of “Raw Spirit”. Banks does explain how and why the type of soil and water where the whisky is made affects the final product and how the former contents of the barrels also alters the taste of the final product. He looks at how malt whisky is essentially the property of major corporations but how the distilleries can keep Scotch select and distinct despite the demands of the international market. I found out the correct pronunciation of “Islay” and that the peatiest tasting whisky, Laphroig, is the one in which the least peat is used in the manufacturing process!

The subtitle of "Raw Spirit" is "The Search for the Perfect Dram". Of the first three whiskies Banks samples in the book he declares each in turn to be the most perfect he has ever tasted. Whisky enthusiasts are unlikely to be charmed by this; I rather think they will be disappointed by the lack of depth of both the descriptions of the various malts and of the author to treat his subject with the respect they think it deserves.

This is probably not the book to give as a gift to a Scotch lover who will be looking for much more information than Banks gives here; nor is it a book for someone new to malts who is looking for a general introduction to the subject and a broad overview of whisky, its manufacture and the places it is made.

Without wanting to appear very negative about Banks I would say that this is the perfect book for anyone who has anorak type tendencies – about any subject, not necessarily cars or Scotch; it cannot be denied that Banks writes well about those things which invoke passion within himself – sadly he just doesn’t share the same passions as me. It all seemed too much like showing off – Banks likes to drive big cars, he buys crates of Scotch, he gets asked to write books about Scotch, to be honest it all became one great big turn-off.

While I cannot fault the quality of writing I was hugely disappointed by the way Banks managed to almost lose the subject matter and drone indulgently for close to 400 pages. I wonder whether it had to be a Scotsman to write this book. I got to thinking about who might be a better choice for this task. A couple of names sprang to mind and one of them was Alan Titchmarsh; I am not particularly a “Titch” fan but I could imagine this chirpy, genial chap meeting distillers and locals, enjoying a dram and eventually picking his favourite. Another was Rick Stein, a man with undoubted abilities to apply his well honed senses of taste and smell, with an interest in traditional methods of food and drink manufacture and also a love of travel – another ideal candidate. I greatly enjoy Banks’ novels but I do not think that his style translates to this kind of romantic and idealized subject. “Raw Spirit” is a great idea but one ill-conceived and poorly executed.

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Available through Arrow Press via Amazon from £4.25 (used and new), paperback.
ISDN 0099460270
pp 384