Postcard from Edinburgh- Popping up and musicals

I'm in Edinburgh, at the festival, and so start the day with the traditional five meat breakfast: sausage, bacon, black pudding, haggis and whatever rendered fat they fry the eggs in. This sets one up for the day and is a site specific diet, just as when one is abroad one starts the day with fruit, cheese, some sort of ham or simply a fortifying glass of something cheeky depending on the circumstances.

Wandering the city we happen across the book festival in Charlotte Square gardens. This is a collection of marquees, tents and, thanks to the recent weather, the sort of duck boards used in the trenches. There are signs on occasional patches of planking that read 'hidden puddle'. The book festival is sponsored by the Guardian and features a pop-up bookshop. This means that the city is currently officially the middle-class epicentre of the planet.


The focus appears to be on children's literature. This may well be due to the success of 'The Hunger Games', possibly in itself riding the coat tails of the success of the Twishite saga. With the latter, Hollywood put pouting teens on the screen and the kids rushed to the book shop to find out what happened next. With The Hunger Games Hollywood put a smudge of dirt on a teen and the same thing happened. The teen fiction market has never been short of dystopian series (big shout out to all you John Christopher fans) and so they have fired up the printing presses with new covers for existing series and printed up a shitload of stickers reading 'If you liked the Hunger Games you'll love this'. I thought it was a stretch when I saw one on 'Jamie's Italy' but full marks for trying.

Apparently, sales in adult fiction are falling, while sales in children's fiction remain strong, despite the lure of the Playstation. Two things possibly explain this, the first is that soppy adults are buying Twilight books and not so soppy adults realise that writers of children's fiction have to be good because their audience are easily distracted and so are giving them a go, or adults are buying more non-fiction as more easily accessible non-fiction comes onto the market and is tied in with television programmes.


Bucking the trend is adult erotic fiction. I've not read 'Fifty Shades of Grey' and so don't have an opinion on it. Well, not an informed one anyway. By reputation, Fisty Shades of Shite is supposed to be appalling, but it is also a huge success and as a result publishers are dusting off their erotica and printing up those marketing stickers. So for instance, don't be surprised to see 'If you loved Fifty Pages of Bilge, you'll love this', adorning the front cover of another smutty novel with a picture of a high heel on the front cover or, if the publisher is showing imagination, the 'Woman's Realm', or a bar of chocolate.

At the pop-up bar in George Street I ask for a pint of Innes and Gunn. I am told that they only serve it in halves, 'because it is so strong'. I am told this by, and I mean no offence, a weasly undernourished English bar-man who would be better suited to selling cups of squash with the rest of his Brownie troop. As I said, no offence to the Brownies. I considered ordering two halves but as this may have been beyond his abilities, to serve as well as to carry, I comforted myself with the thought of him trying that shit on a thirsty Festival goer later in the evening.

As it was, a half was probably a sound tactical bladder management move as it was off to see 'Appointment with the Wicker Man' at the temple of shagpile, The Assembly Hall. Now, to be fair, I thought that this was going to be a straightforward, twisted, musical version of the famous book and film. Unfortunately not, it was a comedy based on an am-dram company putting on a musical production ofThe Wicker Man, with hysterical results. Quite. It may well work as a tee vee special but all in all it was a bit of a Lucas moment, when somebody takes something beloved and special and shits on it. And the thing is, a musical version of The Wicker Man would be great. I think even the great Sir Christopher Lee has described the film in such terms and you can have a sinister musical, after all, 'The Sound of Music' had Nazis, 'The Wizard of Oz' had flying monkeys and 'Mama Mia' had Colin Firth singing.

Edinburgh fashion tip - gentlemen, wear a kilt. This is an international festival and attracts all types from all corners of the world. But it's held in the capital city of Scotland and this is just about the only chance that anyone not from Scotland is going to get to wear their kilt on an everyday basis. Gentlemen who wish to make a 'statement', you can keep your Vans, your tats, your piercings, your stupid little goatee beards, your fucking fucking cargo shorts, your pony tails, your vintage look and your Buddy Holly glasses because when a bloke with a kilt walks in to the room , all eyes are upon him for two reasons. The first is that he is automatically the best dressed person in the room, the other is that everyone is doing a lightening calculation about clan rivalries and wondering if anything is about to kick off over a 200 year old dispute over ownership of a sheep.

After a day of gorgeous weather, the rain gods have obviously been angered and normal climatic service has been resumed. At the book festival, while 'The Guardian' was giving away a fabric bag with every purchase, 'The Scotsman' which that morning had been giving away a 'I heart Edinburgh' fabric bag containing a sachet of coffee and some shortbread (breakfast!) switched to giving away rain ponchos and instantly became the most popular paper in the city centre. Rain ponchos were much in evidence this afternoon, like some dignified, acceptable grown up version of the punk movement's beloved bin liner.

On to the rather corporate EICC to see Rhod Gilbert. Very funny, but at twenty quid for an hour not tremendously Fringy. However the audience loved him and for weary festival goers the comfy seats were much appreciated. The woman sitting next to me even took he shoes off during the show, not something one would recommend doing in a lot of the venues.

It being a Sunday night, the crowds have thinned somewhat. Dropped into 'Greyfriers Bobby' for a drink. This is a tourist pub, meaning it caters for Americans, meaning it is clean, has friendly bar-staff, has a tartan carpet, and you can find a place to sit. That and a bag of nuts was just what I needed.

Concluded at the BBC again, where a comedian was late, the show over-ran and one concluded that the BBC is saving money by hiring children as floor managers. Having said that, the girl who kept letting me in and out of the venue as I ran to the bar and toilet was very nice. I wonder if she wants to work for the BBC full time when she leaves school.