From Amazon
There are so many mysteries at the heart of good golf that just beginning to ponder them can put hitches in your backswing and paralyze your follow-through. The mystery at the heart of good golf writing is much simpler: the best books about golf don't actually focus exclusively on the game; they use it as a prism through which to filter larger themes.
A Season in Dornoch fits that concept to a tee. In the middle of mid-life, Lorne Rubenstein,
The Globe and Mail's superb golf columnist, opts to revisit Dornoch, but instead of merely passing through this time, he decides to spend an entire summer in the Highlands home of one of the most spectacular links on the planet. He wants to fill himself "with the virtues of golf," he tells us, "as a sport rather than a commercial enterprise." Fill himself he does, but not just with the virtues of golf. It doesn't take long for the author and his wife to find themselves adapting to the lolling pace of Dornoch--a place with character and characters. Rubenstein gets swept up in the history of the place: the Vikings and the Picts, the 18th-century Clearances in which the British forced the natives out, the hardscrabble lives and the haunting sounds of the pipes. Not surprisingly, the less he focuses on golf and the more he surrounds himself with Dornoch's history and geography, the better he plays and the more he enjoys playing. And if the golf and golf writing are good--and they are--it's what Rubenstein observes and experiences off the course that makes his journey memorable and this highland road certainly worth taking.
--Jeff Silverman
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From Booklist
*Starred Review* Most of the memoirs written about golf trips to Scotland generate in the reader as much envy as pleasure. Canadian golf writer Rubenstein's trip to Dornoch in the Scottish Highlands certainly inspires envy, but his quietly evocative prose forces us to focus on the charms of the place rather than the melancholy fact that he was there and we weren't. Because of its isolation in the far north of Scotland, Royal Dornoch Golf Club remains relatively free of the hordes of American tourists who clog the fairways on St. Andrews' Old Course. That may change after enough golfers read Rubenstein's account of spending an entire summer in the village of Dornoch, living above a bookshop, immersing himself in the rhythms of the community, and playing golf both casually (a few holes after dinner) and seriously (trying to qualify for the club's annual amateur tournament). It is the village life (evocative of the film
Local Hero) even more than the golf that imbues this memoir with its seductive tranquility--that elusive quality we search for but rarely find in either our daily lives or our vacations. Whether Rubenstein is recounting fascinating bits of Highlands history or offering vivid character sketches of Dornoch natives, the prose breathes a kind of atmospheric calm that works on the reader like a mild summer breeze. Golfers interested only in assaulting the great courses of Scotland with their titanium drivers won't respond to this book at all, but for those who would rather play a quiet hole or two in the twilight, Rubenstein opens the door to a linksland version of Brigadoon.
Bill OttCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved