FJ (right) presenting the GAS banner to Lynda of Commissariat House, St. John's, Newfoundland, after storytelling on Doors Open Day 2006

The 'Other' Scottish Storyteller

I am a member of Grampian Association of Storytellers and have been since 2003/4. 

I was born in Aberdeen and brought up in Peterhead.

My mum used to read fairy tales to me when I was little, Grimm, Enid Blyton, Bunty annuals, etc.  My maternal grandfather was always regaling us with true tales and homilies that 'the Auld Folkies eesed tae say', appealing to the power and authority of his own semi-oral culture of the fishing community of Cairnbulg, NE Scotland.  My dad and I had many 'serious' discussions when I was little, like 'Dad, what was the Christmas star?', 'Dad, where did dinosaurs come from?' or 'Dad, what's eternity?' and he would come up with the most fantastic stories, usually very involved and intellectual, cos he liked having deep theological and intellectual discussions with his elders in his own youth.  So I suppose I've come from a line of storytellers, and I certainly come from a culture of storytellers - having researched the beliefs and traditions of Scottish fisherfolk, I spoke to so many fishermen and was told so many stories, some supernatural, some fantastical, some very true, but all told with a couthy confidence that drew the listener into the world and time of narrative.

When I joined GAS, the first thing I told was probably a little ambitious, but it set the pace for me, it was How Cuchulain Got His Name, from the Irish epic saga, Tain Bo Culainge (The Cattle Raid of Cooley).  I realised that I knew loads of stories, they were the very fairytales that had embedded themselves all those years ago in my head, sitting in the front room on a Saturday afternoon or early Sunday evening, listening to my mum read them out of a book.  My imagination created the pictures!

From that early beginning, I also met and got to know Stanley Robertson, the best of the remaining Traveller storytellers and singers in Scotland.  Sadly, Stanley died in August 2009, leaving us the poorer for his passing.  From Stanley I learned so many stories and songs, and how to enter that narrative-time where the world ceases to exist and you and your hearers live in the now of the story.  Stanley never ever forgot me, and always said to fly high.  I won't ever forget him!

So, academic training and work aside, I now enjoy the great privilege of being able to tell stories to others.  I have seen the power of narrative and am very pleased to be able to reveal another dimension to my listeners, because they come on the journey with me, into the land of stories!

Whether you journey on a magic carpet, a horse with wings, or merely your feet, the journeying is as much fun as the destination, if not more so, because the destination is the end of the tale, the resolution of the mystery or the quest.  Do join me on that journey sometime soon!

FJB