The Wireless Fancier: McLevy


Perhaps it's down to the cold weather, but I've been listening to McLevy... again. I suppose it may be the fourth - or eighth time - but really you stop counting once you step into it's dark, velvety world.

Since beginning on Radio 4 in 1999 it has blossomed into nine series and a series of books (available from http://www.birlinn.co.uk), and it's still extraordinary. 






Set in Edinburgh, it recounts the mem oirs of a Victorian detective battling against the corruption, prostitution, and murder that poison the poverty-stricken streets of Edinburgh, as well as the classes above. The creator, David Ashton, based the stories on the actual memoirs of detective James McLevy that were a publishing phenomenon in their day (apparently even Arthur Conan Doyle was a fan).


However, after nine series it can be a safe assumption that Mr Ashton has deviated from the original stories, if only because his finely drawn characters now breathe a life of their own.

The cast are astoundingly good - Brian Cox plays the detective and manages a extra-ordinary balance of arrogance, humour, morality, subversion and soul. His McLevy truly loves the world he polices, seeing himself a defender, protecting Leith from the evils above and below. He is aided by the wry and astute, but more innocent, Constable Mulholland (Michael Perceval-Maxwell)and David Ashton himself hilariously plays the team's arrogant, aspirational superior - a worrier and neurotic, disgusted by the very low-down, dirty people of Leith he is supposed to protect.

However, the great detective needs a great opponent, and none can better the seductive figure of Jean Brash - the mistress of a brothel, the Queen of Thieves, and the closest thing to McLevy's soulmate. As in one episode, Jean tells him "you and I are two sides of the same coin, McLevy". Both are wise and witty, principled but realists, and they both share a hatred of inequality - but where McLevy tries to fight this with the law, Jean has more faith in crime. Siobhan Redmond brings intelligence, enticement and heart effortlessly to the role. Soulmates separated by circumstance, the continuous push and pull between the pair is bitterweet perfection and an example to all writers.


Siobhan Redmond, Brian Cox. Copyright: BBC

The cast obviously delight in David Ashton's dialogue - eloquent, funny, and weighty, colloquialisms and slang drip authentically. The atmosphere is absorbing, sound effects subtly calling up the busy, grimy streets of Leith. Even scenes changes are effortless to follow - something that can be difficult in radio. Combined with smoky music, a yearning call to the listener, with such production values you want for nothing.



Leith Waterfront. Copyright:Clive Peace [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

 Um, not really. Copyright: Miss Edinburgh via http://www.edinburghspotlight.com  

Recently on a trip to Edinburgh, I went out of my way to visit Leith - it is now upmarket and smart, with attractive restaurants. However the winding streets and old brick buildings remained and were enough to recall the close, moody atmosphere of Ashton's world. I even managed to pick up a copy of McLevy's original memoirs while there, and am astounded how well Ashton's dialogue seems to mimic the baroque, florid writing of the real McLevy. Unlike bad historical fiction Ashton uses his sources lightly and effectively, not hammering you with his research.

The series are available for £2.99 each from AudioGo as a download (The CDs are more than twice as expensive, and only hold two episodes each, so what's the point). Give it a try - it's perfect escapism, like the best crime fiction. Something to keep out the cold, as its darkness draws you in.

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