Climbing Early in Glencoe

Published last year, the poems in Andrew Greig’s latest collection, Later That Day ( Polygon, £ 8.99), find him in reflective, elegiac mood. Considering the huge contribution he has made to the literature of mountaineering, both in poetry and prose, there isn’t much on hill- going in the new book, but Climbing Early in Glencoe is a notable exception. On one level, it’s a simple, very vivid account of a perfect day on the hill – a day when conversation flowed and when “ropes ran freely, front points gripped.” In the final stanza, though, we learn that Greig’s climbing partner has since died, and the discussion they had that day suddenly takes on an added potency.

For Malcolm

We talked of the elementary particles whizzing through our dazzled eyes and brain ( that mitt held up against the sun) without altering anything on their way, without being altered in any way, indifferent as the frozen face we climbed that day on Diamond Buttress.

Ice sprayed from our axes, the ropes ran freely, front points gripped.

Through the cornice’s gleaming quiff we topped out, still talking Science. We shook hands then stood a while out of our heads by the glittering cairn.

We coiled ropes and set off home.

As we clanked downhill Mal laughed, So this means fundamental things have very little to do with me or you?

That day’s long gone as he is yet I think we are sustained by what passes through and keeps on going for ever so they say.

You can reserve a copy of Later That Day by Andrew Greig at the Scottish Poetry Library, 5 Crichton’s Close, Edinburgh, which is operating a click and collect service, e- mail reception@ spl. org. uk or visit www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk