Alex Massie Alex Massie

William McIlvanney, 1936-2015

A few weeks ago, a shivering intimation of imminent mortality was felt all across literary Scotland. Willie McIlvanney was not well. Very far from well. The kind of unwell that requires a lung transplant. If the news was hardly revelatory – McIlvanney had, for more than sixty years, given his body a pretty thorough work-out – it was still gloomily depressing.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Keep reading with a free trial

Subscribe and get your first month of online and app access for free. After that it’s just £1 a week.

There’s no commitment, you can cancel any time.


Unlock more articles



Don't miss out

Join the conversation with other Spectator readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.

Already a subscriber? Log in