His Bloody Project: Documents Relating to the Case of Roderick Macrae (Man Booker Prize Finalist 2016) Paperback – September 12, 2017

Where to begin? The book cover describes His Bloody Project as a historical thriller. It is less thriller and more historical, tragic, compelling, fascinating, and certainly captivating. Set in the Scottish Highlands in 1869, it is a glimpse into the meager existence of crofters in the tiny village of Culduie, which consists of only nine homes. Roderick Macrae is seventeen years and takes full responsibility for the brutal murder of three villagers. At the request of his solicitor, Roddy writes a memoir while incarcerated. The author has taken that historical document and made it come to life.The facts of the case are clear. Why Roddy would commit this heinous act is obvious to the reader, but the question that demands an answer is how did a young boy with so much potential come to this end?There could be hours of discussion in classrooms or book clubs about this case. It is a tragedy on so many levels. There is right and there is wrong. There is nature and there is nurture. When it is all said and done, a clear conscience at the end of the day becomes more of an aspiration than hard reality. Five stars and a great book cover.

In the spring of 2014, I embarked on a project to find out alittle about my grandfather, Donald 'Tramp' Macrae, who wasborn in 1890 in Applecross, two or three miles north of Culduie.It was in the course of my research at the Highland ArchiveCentre in Inverness that I came across some newspaper clippingsdescribing the trial of Roderick Macrae, and with the assistanceof Anne O'Hanlon, the archivist there, discovered the manuscriptwhich comprises the largest part of this volume.Immediately upon finishing this latest Man Booker nominee, I turned back to the author's introduction to check whether I had been reading genuine documents about a true case, or the imaginative products of a clever author with an uncanny sense of style. I think the latter, but even now I cannot be quite sure. The larger part of this book is, as Macrae Burnet tells us, the memoir written in 1869 by 17-year-old Roderick John Macrae at the request of his solicitor while he is awaiting trial in Inverness Castle. He freely admits to killing Lachlan Mackenzie (commonly known as Lachlan Broad) and two other people in the former's house in Culduie, Wester Ross, in order to relieve his father of the persecution he was suffering at Mackenzie's hands. From beginning to end of the book, there is no dispute about these facts; all that remains to be filled in are the details, motivation, and the question of moral guilt.Roddy Macrae's memoir takes up the first half of the book. It is preceded by various written statements made at the time by neighbors, the local schoolteacher, and the Presbyterian minister, which show a wide variety of opinions, revealing the character of each writer quite as much as that of their subject. It is an extraordinarily compact way of depicting the small crofting community, the various rivalries within it, and the constricting power of the Kirk. The latter part of the book consists of reports of the trial and its aftermath. Burnet is pitch-perfect in capturing the tone of depositions, official documents, and newspaper reports, but nothing is astounding as Roddy's narrative itself, which not only nails the style of 19th-century Scots prose* (think Stevenson) but also recreates the social and moral world in which the tragedy plays itself out.Culduie is a real place, on the west coast of Scotland a little bit north of the Isle of Skye. Beautiful though it seems to tourist eyes, in the 19th-century it must have been a place of feudal squalor. Here and elsewhere, huge swaths of coast and mountain would be owned by a Laird, and used largely for the purpose of hunting and fishing. The lands would be managed by a Factor, who would assign local jurisdiction to a Constable elected from each area. The crofters lived in little more than hovels, occupying their houses and farming their land at the pleasure of the Laird, and subject to arbitrary rulings on the part of the Constable. Reading this portion of the book made me very angry indeed, not only at the grossly unfair exercise of class privilege, but at the bovine acceptance of it by most of the local people. Here is a snatch of conversation overheard by Roddy at the annual Highland Gathering:I fell in behind two well-dressed gentlemen and eavesdropped ontheir conversation. The first declared in a loud voice, 'It iseasy to forget that such primitives still exist in our country.'His companion nodded solemnly and wondered aloud whether moremight be done for us. The first gentleman then expressed theview that it was difficult to assist people who were so incapableof doing anything for themselves. They then paused to drink froma flask and watch a knot of girls pass by.This attitude is echoed by that of the Presbyterian Minister, Mr. Galbraith, who speaks of "a savagism" that the Church has only been partially successful in suppressing. He has no difficulty in asserting that Roddy is a throwback to the primitive type, a noxious individual, enslaved to the Devil. Burnet may have used Galbraith as a scathing example of religion at its worst and least compassionate (he based him, apparently, on a real figure), but there is another aspect to his Presbyterianism that is not much developed in the novel, but which I see as centrally important. The willingness of Roddy's father and his sister Jetta to submit to Lachlan Broad's tyranny is the Calvinist doctrine of Predestination in its crudest form:You must not say such things, Roddy. If you understood more aboutthe world, your would see that Lachlan Broad is not responsible.It is providence that has brought us to this point. It is no moreLachlan Broad's doing than yours or mine or Father's.Jetta, who has second sight, tells him that she has foreseen Lachlan's death. The combination of Gaelic superstition and Presbyterian fatalism finally propels Roddy to his act. So we see two theories of his crime: class and religion. The trial, however, will focus on the question of mental confidence. But here we discover something else: that Roddy is not the trustworthy narrator we had thought.** All along, we have been proceeding towards understanding and even sympathy—but then something happens to kick us in the gut. From this horrendous point on, halfway through the book, neither Roddy nor the author is any more to be trusted. The novel becomes a genuine cliffhanger, even as it sinks deeper into tragedy. It is really a superb achievement.======*Also as in Stevenson, the text is scattered with dialect Scots words—including the two murder weapons, a croman and a flaughter. Oddly enough, Burnet places his glossary halfway through the book (54% in my Kindle edition). Sassenach readers would be well advised to bookmark it!**In terms of the combination of unreliable narrator with a 19th-century Scottish crime drama, I thought of the novels of Jane Harris, GILLESPIE AND I and THE OBSERVATIONS. Reviews have also compared HIS BLOODY PROJECT to books such as Margaret Atwood's ALIAS GRACE and James Robertson's TESTAMENT OF GIDEON MACK. I am sure many other comparisons are possible. But that does not lessen the stunning originality of the book we have.

Extremely well written and instructive re: life of 19th-century Scots crofters in northern Scotland. But even though the novel is constructed as nonfiction, the readers know that the story is fiction. And in this story hints are given about events/deeds that may well have had to do with past -- not only current -- animosities between Lachlan Mackenzie and Roddy Macrea's father and with problems tormenting Roddy; but these events/deeds are never explained. Theft? Incest -- involving the mothers? Others? (Clearly with Roddy's sister, who kills herself after becoming pregnant by her father.) Affairs? Jealousy? Such facts could have been used during the well-described trial as causes of "moral insanity" and have spared Roddy his fate. But they weren't. So: We cannot know what is in another person's mind. But if we know the significant facts of the person's life, we can better determine if that person committed a crime in an "insane" state of mind. Thus at the end of this story we don't really know more than how awful was the reality of crofters' lives.I am not sure what the point of this novel is . . .

If you are a lover of murder and crime stories there is nothing preventing you from enjoying this masterful Man Booker Prize finalist by Graeme MacCrae Burnet. This book is pure fiction but is written much like a true crime story. The author carefully connects documents which we are to believe he found in some dusty archive of legal documents, newspaper stories and police reports as well as his protagonist's written statement which is nearly a complete book in itself. You read about the accused, Roderick Macrae, a seventeen year old tenant farmer, his family and the events that led up to the crime itself. I loved that I have a Kindle which allows me to immediately look up a word which is foreign to me and get the answer either through a dictionary or wikipedia instantly. There are many words from the Old Scottish which are sprinkled throughout this book and they become second nature to you once you know the meaning. It reminded me of reading Shakespeare in two ways. First, I think that Shakespeare may have actually used the method of discovering archival information so that he was able to write those plots that take place in far away places and distant times. And second, once you read and understand, one play, the others are much easier to fathom. I am not comparing the writing of Burnet to Shakespeare but I do see where a line could exist in research.Once the confessed murderer is arrested and jailed his lawyer does what every lawyer does today, he gives Roddy the best legal defense he can offer. The trial is also presented as coming from newspapers of the day and a report of the trail supposedly published in 1869. The narration of the trial is as good as any modern legal thriller with expert witnesses, biased and unbiased witnesses and some who seem to just insert themselves into the drama. Think of any trial you may have heard about on Court T.V.The ending does come with a verdict which I will not report here but with which you may or may not agree. No matter what you believe you will be still thinking about this book for days after you have read the last page.I am in total agreement that this book deserved to be a finalist on the Man Booker Literary Prize list. Best book I've read in 2017 so far.

One day in 1869, young Roderick Macrae walked along the tiny street of his village and brutally murdered three of his neighbours. He is now in custody awaiting trial, and his defence lawyer is trying to get at the root causes that led him to commit these horrific crimes.The novel is presented as if it were a true crime book with witness statements, medical examiner reports and so on. The first half is taken up with Roderick's own account of events leading up to the crime, an account he is writing while in jail, at the urging of Mr Sinclair, his defence attorney. There's then a shorter section told from the viewpoint of J. Bruce Thomson, an authority in the new discipline of criminal anthropology. He has been brought in by Mr Sinclair to determine whether Roderick could be considered insane under the legal definition of that word then in force. J. Bruce Thomson was a real person, as the notes at the end of the book tell us, and Burnet has apparently used his actual writings on the subject to inform this section of the book. Finally, there's an account of the trial, presented as a kind of compilation of various newspaper reports.The quality of the writing is excellent and the structure works surprisingly well. I'll get my major criticism out of the way first: I found it impossible to believe that a 17-year-old crofter living in a tiny, isolated and dirt-poor community in the Scottish highlands at this period could possibly be as literate and eloquent as Roderick is in his own written account. Apart from just the excellent grammar and extensive vocabulary, he writes in standard English throughout, which would absolutely not have been how he spoke. Burnet is clearly aware of this problem, so shoves in a bit about how Roderick was a kind of prodigy at school who could have gone on to further education if circumstances had allowed, but I'm afraid this wasn't enough to convince. My minor, related criticism is that this also means the book makes no attempt to reproduce Scottish dialect or speech patterns – a bonus, I imagine, for the non-Scots reader but a disappointment for this Scot.However, the storytelling is first-rate and Burnet creates a completely convincing picture of crofting life at this period – a life of hard work and poverty, where the crofters' living was entirely dependant on the whim of the local laird. He shows the various powers who held sway over the crofters – the factor who was the laird's main representative, the constable, elected by the crofters to enforce a kind of discipline among them, and the minister of the harsh and unforgiving Scottish church. And he shows how easily these people could browbeat, bully and abuse those under their power, who had no rights to assert and no power to protest. The section supposedly written by J. Bruce Thomson gives a great insight into contemporary thinking on insanity, particularly as regards the effects of heredity and of in-breeding in these tiny communities.The trial also feels authentic, especially the various extracts from newspapers which include word sketches of how the witnesses and the accused appeared to those in the courtroom. The reader has slightly more information than the jury, because we have had the opportunity to read Roderick's account. But when the jury retires to consider its verdict, the jurors and the reader are left debating the same question of criminality versus insanity, and Burnet has carefully balanced the picture so that it's not an easy question to answer.I found it an absorbing read with a great marriage of interesting storyline and well presented research. As a character study, Roderick is fascinating – indeed, his whole family are. There are all kinds of hints of things that are never fully revealed or clarified, all of which add to the uncertainty of Roderick's motivation; and the structure allows us to see him both as he chooses to present himself and from the viewpoints of the many other people who come into contact with him. I felt Burnet got just about a perfect balance between letting us feel we knew Roderick and reminding us that we can never fully understand what's going on in someone else's head – lots of lovely ambiguity.The book was shortlisted for the Booker and, to be honest, I can't quite see why. It's very well written and interesting and I wouldn't have been at all surprised to see it winning crime or historical fiction awards, but I don't feel it's particularly 'literary' or brings anything hugely original to the table. This is not to criticise the book – it's more a criticism of the Booker, which seems to have lost its way fairly dramatically over the last few years. Had Burnet taken that extra leap of courage to use at least some Scots rather than go for the easy (and more marketable) option of standard English throughout, then perhaps it would have taken it up that notch that would be needed to raise it from excellent to exceptional.But excellent it is, and it would be unfair to rate it otherwise because it doesn't quite live up to the unrealistic expectations the Booker shortlisting has created. As a historical crime novel, then - highly recommended. 4½ stars for me, so rounded up.

Der Roman beschäftigt sich mit einem brutalen Dreifachmord in dem Küstenort Culduie im schottischen Hochland im Jahr 1869. Er ist aufgebaut wie ein Dossier verschiedener Unterlagen zu diesem Ereignis, u.a. Aussagen der Einwohner zum Mord, ein Bericht des Angeklagten über die vorhergegangenen Ereignisse, medizinische Untersuchungsprotokolle, der Bericht eines Experten für Psychologie von Gewalttätern und letztliche eine genaue Wiedergabe des Prozesses. Von Anfang an entsteht ein starkes Gefühl der Authentizität. Ein klassischer Krimi ist es nicht und wer lieber lineare Geschichten mit einem Kommissar liest, der sollte zu einem anderen Titel greifen. Vielmehr bekommt man hier eine Darstellung der harten Lebensverhältnisse, der rigiden Moralvorstellungen und des Gerichtssystems in der Mitte des 19. Jahrhunderts in Schottland zu lesen, und das auf meiner Meinung nach äußerst spannende Art und Weise!Letztlich geht es um die Frage, was die Wahrheit ist und ob ein Prozess überhaupt dieser Wahrheit nahe kommen kann, wenn es sie denn geben sollte. Besonders ab dem ersten Drittel des Buches, als ich richtig in diese raue Welt eingetaucht war, entwickelte das Buche einen enormen Sog. Bis zum letzten Satz des Nachworts fand ich den Roman fesselnd! Die verschiedenen Perspektiven scheinen der Wahrheit immer an einer Stelle etwas hinzuzufügen und dafür an einer anderen Stelle etwas abzuknapsen, sodass man als Leser zunehmend verunsicherter wird. Letztlich bleibt die Erkenntnis, dass Roderick wohl nie ein echte Chance hatte, aber die Frage nach seiner Schuld ist trotz der erdrückenden Beweislage am Schluss genau so wenig klar zu beantworten wie zu Beginn des Romans.Insgesamt ein außergewöhnliches Buch, das tiefgreifende Fragen nach dem Wesen der Wahrheit stellt. Sehr lesenswert!

it is a good book, but it is not really for everyone. it is kind of dark, in some way.

Un bellissimo libro con una scrittura accattivante e una storia davvero coinvolgente, che tiene col fiato sospeso fino alla inattesa fine.