Mungo thought about it for a while. They had weekly assembly in the Protestant school, and they were expected to recite the Lord’s Prayer at lunchtime. So, what was it about Catholics that made them so different? What was it he was supposed to hate in them?
The title character is a Protestant in Glasgow. James is a Catholic in Glasgow. This division alone would be enough to ensure that any connection made between the two is rife with the possibility of violent interaction. The history of the divide between Protestants and Catholics in the U.K. is far too complex to explain here but suffice to say that it will definitely facilitate a better understanding of the undertones and overtones to this story of star-cross love to at least have some sort of handle on what goes on here. Then again, this quote serves to underscore that even those living in the midst of this cultural partition aren’t necessarily fully aware of what goes on there.
Mungo raised himself on his elbows and kissed James. Even more than the others, it felt like his first proper kiss, clumsy and with too much pressure on his lips.
As if their relationship wasn’t one constructed between a Protestant and a Catholic wasn’t enough to all but ensure tragedy, toss in the fact that Mungo and James are both boys. This additional little spice to the proceedings only serves to ramp up the resistance all the way to eleven and then some. At least Tony and Maria are both Catholic. Although, truth be told, that doesn’t seem to count much in the face of their other differences. Just imagine how much worse Bernardo would have taken the news of his sister dancing with a Jet who wasn’t Catholic. Or, even worse, with a Jet who wasn’t a guy. As much as the religion divides people—and especially so in the case of Catholics and Protestants in the U.K.—that divide is like a crack in the sidewalk compared to the Grand Canyon dividing heterosexuality and homosexuality.
Fifteen years he had lived and breathed in Scotland, and he had never seen a glen, a loch, a forest, or a ruined castle. Actually, he had seen them, but only ever on biscuit tins or the side of tourist buses. Mungo lay down on one of the large hearthstones and let his head spin.
It is hard not to automatically think of lochs when one thinks of Scotland. For Americans, at least, Scotland and Loch Ness are almost inextricable. And, of course, Ness is just one of the many lochs populating the country. Despite the fact that the thought of a lock also brings instantly to mind a monster, Nessie doesn’t seem particularly monstrous and the whole concept carries a certain ambiance of serenity and peacefulness. Until one starts really thinking about why the explanation behind why it is so difficult to determine what actually calls Loch Ness home: that things get very dark very fast once dives beneath the surface of the water. Such is the case here with Mungo’s first visit to a loch. Things seem peaceful and serene, but things get very dark very fast. And the monstrous presence is no Nessie.
