Dead Famous In Edinburgh

How we remember the dead tells us a lot about who we are as a society. Who we remember, tells us even more. Being a creator of words adds to the complexity. We are not merely worlded by the city we live in, or our neighbours who share the dwellings around us. We are not merely worlded by the words we use, our manner of pronouncing, the lilt and tone of our voice. We are not merely worlded by our forebears, who carry us into a life full of complexity and embodied history. We are worlded by our imaginations, by our flights of fantasy, by our means of escaping where we are.  Robert Fergussion died aged 24, having sustained a head injury. After a period of care, first at home and then in a place of Bedlam, he passed away. His mother, who tried to care for him, had said he had become insensible.  Try to imagine Robert’s mother, caring for the body of her son, a son she no longer recognised as such. The body of Robert had become unworlded, while it still moved and breathed. Robert’s mother c

How we remember the dead tells us a lot about who we are as a society. Who we remember, tells us even more.  Today I visited Rosebank Cemetery. It is the closest final resting place to my home and is perhaps best known for the Gretna Rail Disaster memorial. In May 1915, over 200 lives were lost in a multiple train collision. Soldiers, on their way to war met with disaster before even leaving Scotland. Many of the men, who came from the Leith area, were brought back to Edinburgh for mass burial. They were buried three deep and the funeral procession took over four hours.  The enormity of what happened is hard to get your head around. For every life lost, scores would have mourned the death of a loved one. One account tells of a Scottish gentleman killing survivors at the scene, much like one might put down a badly injured animal. I am uneasy with the thought and angered by the wasted potential of these men sent to their deaths..   So in glorious sunshine, over one hundred years after th