Pre-order on Amazon, Bronte’s Inferno by Ewan Lawrie.

Reading is what I do. Writing, not so much. But for most folk, that’s already too much. There’s a book in everyone. They’ve got one and they’re sticking with it. So I’m in a minority. I’ve also been thinking about class. I should probably use a capital C here, Class. I was reading yesterday that less than twenty-percent of youngsters (if you’re on Facebook sorry, you’re not young) didn’t know what a ‘scab’ was. I’m the kinda guy that laughs at my own jokes, but that’s no joke.

In my head, the book about how we lost the propaganda war would so obviously have a chapter, Coal (hint, it powered the industrial revolution). I took it for granted people would know what I was talking about. Scabs wasn’t something on your knee, scabs were much lower than that.

G for Grenfell where class and race meet in North Kensington would be another entry.

The Queen (old Lizzie) gets a walk-on part. I get a walk-on part too as a Scottish Republican ‘shite’ talker. Not in history. I’m already there. Playing the back of Dr Finlay’s head as he drove away (but I can’t remember where to). And a bit-part as someone yakking in the background as Mark McManus’s Taggart. No idea what I said, but the other extra wasn’t interested either. It was £80 for hanging about, which was good money then. A lunch wagon that offered the whole gamut of gamuts. It served everything but booze, free tastes better than salted. Like Klondike or a life’s writing earnings for an afternoon’s work. Either way, we’d never had it so good. So here I was a footnote in Ewan Lawrie’s trilogy Gibbous House, At The Back of the North Wind, which has nothing to do with pub’s opening hours but does have a Foreword (do books need Forewords in the same way that in the old days the tendency was to read the Daily Record backwards, from the Sports to the so-called news stories)?

Bronte’s Inferno, a manuscript, and footnote to the history of Moffatt’s transatlantic  wanderings. Being a footnote isn’t a full-time job, in the way that being a writer is, but the pay is much the same. I wasn’t thinking of Moffat directly, but indirectly when thinking about class. Gothic encounters of the Bronte variety (like Gibbous House) need a big house, a madwoman in the attic is always a handy appliance, a ghostly encounter and symbolic fire followed by a real blaze. Hints of Dante. Can’t remember much about it, but in translation there’s a special circle of hellbound lovers of Trump, and his little Trumpian neophytes, Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage. The unctuous simpletons that Moffat would have dealt with and in doing so, would put on their finest regalia and become the characters he dispatches. The moron’s moron Trump is too stupid and psychopathically inclined to be anything other than fictional. Farage too unctuous to be little more than a Dickensian stereotype. But Boris Johnson does leave you with a lot of possibilities. Boris Johnson would be the perfect man to play Moffat. He has a little intelligence, no morals to hinder him and he’s a people pleaser, but only to a certain point where he can take, take, take what he thinks is his unlimited worth.

As a footnote of footnoted worthies, the fictional, ‘Jim O’Connell’ in Bronte’s Inferno I’m sure I’d get on fine with the fictional Moffat and footnote in history, Boris Johnson, in the same way I got on fine with the fictional Larry Avarice and Ewan Ruined. I wouldn’t get on with the fictional moron’s moron or Farage. I’d encourage Moffat to deal with them pronto. Read on and pre-order for less than the price of a pint of Guiness. Meet me not in the flesh.


  • Marie Catherine Laveau was born on September 10, 1801, in New Orleans, Louisiana, when the city was still under Spanish colonial administration.
  • Her mother, Marguerite D’Arcantel, was a free woman of color with a rich heritage of African, European, and Native American ancestry.
  • The identity of her father remains uncertain due to inconsistent spellings in historical records. Some believe it could be Charles Laveau, the son of a white Louisiana creole and politician, while others suggest a free man of color named Charles Laveaux.
  • In 1819, Marie married Jacques Paris, a Quadroon free man of color who had fled from the Haitian Revolution. They had two daughters, Félicité and Angèle.
  • After Jacques Paris’s death, Marie entered a domestic partnership with Christophe Dominick Duminy de Glapion, a nobleman of French descent. 
  1. Voodoo Queen and Spiritual Practitioner:
    • Marie Laveau gained fame as a Voodoo priestess, herbalist, and midwife.
    • Her powers were legendary:
      • Healing the sick: She was known for her ability to cure ailments.
      • Altruism: Marie extended charitable gifts to the poor.
      • Spiritual rites: She oversaw rituals and ceremonies, blending elements of Voodoo, Native American practices, and traditional Roman Catholicism.
  2. Legacy and Mystery:
    • Marie Laveau’s name is synonymous with New Orleans Voodoo. Her grave at Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 remains a popular pilgrimage site.

Her daughter, Marie Laveau II, followed in her footsteps, practicing rootwork, conjure, and various spiritual traditions.

Angel Heart.

  1. Jane Eyre’s Journey:
    • Jane Eyre, the novel’s protagonist, embarks on her own infernal journey—a quest for identity, love, and self-discovery.
    • Her trials mirror Dante’s descent into the depths of hell.
  2. Gothic Elements:
    • Both Jane Eyre and Dante’s Inferno share Gothic elements:
      • Gibbous House.
      • Haunting secrets.
      • Dark passions and murder.
  3. Love and Redemption:
    • Jane’s love for Mr. Rochester mirrors Dante’s devotion to Beatrice.
    • Redemption through love.
  4. Orphaned Heroines:
    • Miss Pardoner, Jane Eyre and Dante’s Beatrice both grapple with loss and orphanhood.
    • Resilience feeds the fire.
  5. Supernatural Encounters:
    • Jane’s visions (like ghostly laughter and faraway voices) echo Dante’s encounters with spirits.
    • Both traverse realms beyond the mundane.
  6. Symbolic Fire:
    • Bertha Mason, locked in the attic, embodies fire and madness.
    • Dante’s hellfire finds resonance in the Tory Party (hopefully).
  7. Moral Dilemmas:
    • Jane’s choices—to marry Rochester despite his secrets, her secrets and him being a burnt out, blind Tory—mirror Dante’s ethical dilemmas.
    • Both confront complex moral landscapes.
  8. Transcendence and Redemption:
    • Jane’s spiritual awakening parallels Dante’s ascent toward light.

Redemption awaits beyond suffering