Andrew O’Hagan on Mayflies, music and toxic masculinity
A theatre adaptation of Andrew O’Hagan’s best-selling novel, Mayflies, has its world premiere at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe. The acclaimed author talks halcyon days, current reads and the power of friendship 

Interview: Cheryl Caira

Mayflies began life as a novel before becoming a TV series. What aspects of the story do you think the Edinburgh Fringe adaptation will reveal differently? 

The music in the stage version is bound to be gripping. It’s all the great independent music of the period serving as touchstones and echoes. Apart from that, I feel the live aspect of theatre will bring out something very tactile in the book, something very personal and up close. The camaraderie of these young Scottish men and the choices they face as adults are going to be very powerful on stage.  

Music is intrinsic to both the book and stage adaptation. Why does an 80s soundtrack pack such an emotional punch? 

Well, it was a great time for music. Remember: we were only into the third decade of rock & roll, and it had blended with our social senses, our leisure hours, our politics, and we were going for it at those gigs. It felt very liberating at that hour to know you had friends beside you who shared the feelings you had and the convictions that moved you. Those songs pack a punch to this day. They changed the world. Made inclusivity and equality part of what we thought about and sang about. So in a way, Mayflies was about a revolution in the idea of community and that’s why it’s so ripe in older age, as the book progresses, and one of the boys is facing the ultimate trial of his life.  

Mayflies is a coming-of-age story about a group of Ayrshire friends, bonded by youth and navigating the challenges of adulthood. How has your relationship with your own mortality changed as you’ve grown older?  

Well, time changes everything. I speak as a father of a 22-year-old woman, and as a very proud parent of a woman with different expectations of the world. Such responsibility has changed every perception I had, and I don’t believe, quite honestly, that I could have written Mayflies without being Nell’s dad. She had health struggles at the beginning of her life and it taught me a lot about love, pulling through together and the basics of survival. Mayflies, of course, tells a different story, but it took my experience in maturity to understand what youthful closeness is all about.  

Fringe venue, Brown’s of Leith. Credit: Paula Szturc

Toxic masculinity has increasingly been under the spotlight through the arts. Do you see Mayflies’ more nuanced male friendships as offering an alternative perspective?

Definitely. One of the reasons I think the novel got so much attention, and such a huge reaction from men in Scotland particularly, is because it told a story of loyalty and friendship that they had very much experience of in life, but which hardly ever becomes part of the story told about men. We’ve lived through the manosphere, with this toxic image of men behaving badly, but most men and women in Scotland have another experience of men, too – the experience of humour, love and devotion. In that sense, I wanted Mayflies not to deny the bad bits but to show the other side. 

The story offers a snapshot of the west coast of Scotland in the 1980s. Where in the world have you felt most at home? 

I have swung between London and Scotland for years, and that suits me fine. I’ve always been an in-between sort of person. Nowadays, we have a house by the sea in Largs and we love the sweet air and the seascape. It’s not far from the scenes of my childhood and that’s a comfort, too.  

Your latest book, On Friendship, celebrates the joy of great relationships – whether fleeting or long-lasting. How have your friendships shaped your life?

I’ve always been a bit of an apostle for friendship. I was like that when I was a teenager. I had lots of friends, one or two of which have remained. It’s normal for such bonds to loosen eventually, and I don’t mourn them when they do, but it’s nice to know that the theme has remained strong for me. I met friends in London when I was in my twenties who defined life for me in different ways, but there’s no sliding scale for me of value when it comes to friends. If you believe in it, you’re always ready to answer the call of camaraderie and good times. Writing the book made me see a shape in it all – we find our life story among friends, and the coming and going is the story of our lives.  

You’ve written 10 books. When you’re not creating them, which bookshops do you buy from – and what titles are currently on your bedside table? 

I adore all the booksellers who’ve got behind me over the years. There are thousands of them, but of course, some of my closest (and the ones where I buy books) tend to be in Scotland. Portobello Books and Topping & Company in Edinburgh are great favourites, I love the staff at Waterstones in Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow, and you can’t beat the Book Nook in Stewarton. On my table at present, I have a number of novels by the great Irish writers John McGahern and Edna O’Brien. I’m also enjoying a raft of new non-fiction books about Marilyn Monroe (her 100th anniversary is this year) and David Bowie, whom I’m writing an essay on.  

 Your novels often blend lived experience and fiction. Do you see yourself writing an autobiography in the future? 

Yes, I will. The memoir is a literary form I’ve always liked, getting inside the childhood and the life story at the ground level and working your way up. I’ve been percolating an autobiography for years and it will happen soon. My childhood in post-industrial Scotland was such a mesmerising story in many ways, such a typical one but filled with special character. The stories are so striking that it might turn out to be one of the best books I ever write.  

You’ve been clubbing with The Stone Roses. Who would ideally join you on the dance floor next? 

 I would love to get out there with Harry Styles. I think he’s phenomenal. Funny, talented, feather-boa-wearing and just fun. He’s much more mainstream than the acts we liked growing up, but I don’t care about any of that. He’s a guy doing it his own way and the old categories seem old anyway. As they should.  

Mayflies is produced by Grid Iron. The show will premiere at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe, running from 7th – 30th August at Brown’s of Leith


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