His Bloody Project by Graeme Macrae Burnet – Book Review
One of my favourite reads of 2020 was a uniquely Scottish tale from Graeme Macrae Burnet, His Bloody Project, published by independent Scottish publisher Saraband.
Not only is this a dark, riveting novel set in the Scottish Highlands; shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2016; and a fascinating story.
The author also won Scottish Book Trust’s New Writers Award for his first book The Disappearance of Adèle Bedeau in 2013!
Scottish Book Trust are a charity very near and dear to my heart, for various reasons; they do a lot of great work, gave me one of my first experiences of publication, and gave me the single nicest job rejection I’ve ever received.
But back to His Bloody Project.
The Man Booker shortlisted novel was one I’d seen around for years, and picked up and put down several times in second-hand shops. It was only a baffled review from one of my friends, who swore blind it was non-fiction, which really cinched it for me.
His Bloody Project is a fascinating piece of historical literary crime fiction. It’s also a really well done “why”dunnit.
Three people are murdered in a small Highland community and the accused murderer has written a deposition that says that he is unequivocally guilty.
But is that really the case?
The novel opens first with a preface from the “editor” of the piece, explaining the historical background of the memoir of seventeen-year-old Roderick Macrae, and the topology and nuance of relationships in the remote community the murder took place in almost excruciating historical detail.
There follows a series of eyewitness accounts of the events leading up to the murder, and of Roderick himself.
Roddy is, by all accounts, a quiet, odd character. Not necessarily one that all people expected to go on a murder spree.
In fact, he’s quite bright, for all his eccentricities. We also find out more about his strange, religious father
Mr Sinclair has asked that I set out what he calls he ‘chain of events’ which led to the killing of Lachlan Broad.
His Bloody Project, p 25
We’re also introduced to Lachlan Mackenzie. He’s a character that the eyewitnesses seem to have very little sympathy for. He’s also very dead.
The account of Roddy himself is where things get interesting.
Whilst he does not shy away from the events of the murder – we are treated to a long lead-up to the eventual crime, getting to know the tensions in the small community of Culdie.
There is a long standing feud between Roderick’s father and the Mackenzies, and Roderick’s unrequited love for Flora Mackenzie is a lot less graceful than any sort of “Romeo and Juliet” scenario – though will have just as tragic an end.
Things are really kicked into overdrive when Lachlan Mackenzie is appointed factor. He seems determined to have the Macraes ousted from their croft.
But Roddy isn’t our only voice
After reading the account of Roderick, we get an account from a doctor, who specialises in “Lunacy”, who travels with Roderick’s lawyer to Culdie to interview the townsfolk more about the suspect’s mental state.
Finally, we get a full account of the very high-stakes trial, seemingly pieced together via contemporary newspaper reports.
To the uninitiated, like my friend, I could fully understand how you could get mixed up. Each different part of the novel is written superbly, and very realistically.
That might make you worried that there’s an element of “dry” or “confusing” to the narrative, but I don’t think so at all.
Each different “style” used in the novel reflects its author. You get a real taste of their own personal biases and motivations.
Surprisingly, the doctor’s report was probably my favourite, because he came off as snotty and obnoxious. It’s a distinct change from the memoir section it follows.
The historical detail and language really makes it
I love writing historical works myself, and I can testify as to the pain in the arse it can be to research. There’s a knack to getting it right; a balance of accuracy and enjoyability. This book felt richly detailed in the right way; it was very immersive. But it didn’t feel bogged down in minutiae either.
The other thing I love is the use of a little Scots. It’s peppered throughout the novel in my favourite way – without explanation. It’s peppered not only in dialogue but in the narrative. I love this.
It brings a tangible sense of location and era to the novel, a real nice touch. There’s a glossary in the back, which is helpful if you’re not familiar.
For some people, it might seem a little too much work to plough through. If you’re not that interested, you might not be tempted to give it a read.
But for me? The more I got into the wee details of the novel, the more I was excited to see how it’d all turn out.
It’s rather strange, as it’s not a high-octane thriller but it is very gripping. Surprisingly so.
The style of the novel really helps to build the idea that even the most cut-and-dried crime has an element of nuance; especially when each one of your narrators is as unreliable as these.
You see each angle of the case, and of Roddy Macrae.
You go back and forth between how you feel about the events as they unfold. It feels almost interactive, in a strange way!
