John Buchan is known today, if at all, as the writer of a series of novels and stories featuring the adventurer Richard Hannay, the most famous of these being ‘The Thirty-Nine Steps’. In fact, most people know these stories through various film, television and radio adaptations, rather than through the books themselves.

John Buchan was far more than just a ‘shocker’ writer (as he termed these books) and this loving, comprehensive and very readable biography by his granddaughter lays out the events and motivations of what today might be considered an incomprehensible array of talents and achievements.

The son of a Free Church minister in Scotland, Buchan was a published author before he went up to Oxford (achieving a First in Greats), became a barrister, moved to South Africa to take up what became a senior and important post in the colonial administration, returned to England to become a senior member of a major publishing house, before becoming the leader of the British propaganda campaign in the First World War, writing a very popular and influential commentary and history of the War. He ends his career with a 5-year stint as the Governor-General of Canada leading up to the Second World War, where he played a major part not only in binding Canada together as a unified and independent country, but in presenting the Allies’ case to the United States.

On top of all this he wrote, wrote, wrote. Approximately 100 books, both fiction and non-fiction, some of which was highly scholarly, and thousands of articles, essays and journalism.

The key element that this book brings out is the personality of Buchan. He was almost universally admired and liked. He had the knack of being able to talk to anyone and hold their interest as an equal.

This is an excellent biography that reveals the life and talents of a man that, frankly, would not be believable were it not true. I read this in great gulps as I always wanted to find out what happened next - one of they key requirements of a successful ‘shocker’. ( )

Having read a number of books by John Buchan and various members of his family, it was time I learnt more about the man himself. This is an excellent account of his life, and shows how wrong I was to think of him primarily as a writer of popular fiction, indeed, that whatever words have been used attempting to sum him up there is always much more to a man of quite such diverse experiences and attainments. I must now re-read his works. ( )

Ursula Buchan’s biography of her paternal grandfather is affectionate and detailed, and written with a clarity of prose of which John Buchan would have been proud. On her part, she is understandably proud of John Buchan’s achievements and his legacy, which were considerable.

Reading through his multifarious achievements I was left wondering where he found the time. Now best remembered for his novels, and in particular the Thirty-Nine Steps (although I think that is far from his finest work), he also wrote several volumes of poetry, a detailed literary biography of Sir Walter Scott (whose impact on his own work was considerable), and a comprehensive history of India. Yet books were only one of many strings to his bow. His career encompassed publishing and journalism, and a stint as a tax barrister, before expanding to include politics, which would eventually culminate in his appointment as Governor General of Canada and his elevation to the House of Lords as Baron Tweedsmuir.

Ursula Buchan is at pains to stress her grandfather’s love of the land, which is certainly evoked strongly in most of his books. My own choice among his canon (and one of my all-time favourite books) is John Macnab, in which the Highland landscape is almost a character in its own right. That novel, I feel, epitomises Buchan’s work, and stands as a paean to a former way of life, and a code of behaviours that was already obsolete, itf it ever pertained at all, by the time Buchan was writing.

I was interested to see that John Buchan believed that Alfred hitchcock’s film of the Thirty Nine Steps was far better than the book. I find this difficult to accept. Indeed, I have wondered for many years why all of the film or television adaptations have managed so completely to miss the feel of a book which, as one reads it, seems to be crying out to be brought to the screen. ( )