Highland Book Prize
- Jen Stout
- Jul 22
- 2 min read
Hello. Some absolutely huge news this morning: Night Train to Odesa has won the Highland Book Prize. The shortlist was incredible (Ali Smith!?) so I really wasn't expecting this. For those not familiar with it - the prize 'celebrates the finest published work that is created in or about the Highlands and Islands of Scotland' and 'aims to recognise the literary talent of the region, and the rich and diverse work inspired by its culture, heritage, and landscape'.
And Night Train is a book about Ukraine, which might seem far from the north of Scotland. But Shetland is central to the book, because I swing back there after stints in Ukraine, back to Voe and to Fair Isle, landing with a bit of a thud in my garden where the kale has gone to seed, trying to readjust to this other life, and then setting off again a few months later. And because the Shetland mentality - outward-looking, curious, keen to set off and travel - is kind of inherent to the whole story. Voe is also where I finally sat down to write Night Train, in the study of Bill Brown's house, which I was renting from his daughters (and that house - and my kale! - now also features in another book, by Marianne Brown, which I highly recommend).
So - I'm really honoured, and grateful to the judges, and to the Highland Society of London. It means the world to get recognition like this, and I'm so glad that there is a prize dedicated to writers from and in my part of the world. The Highlands and Islands are so heavily romanticised, so often written about from a distance (geographic, cultural distance, often across a chasm of actual understanding) - so to celebrate work that is the opposite of all that is a brilliant thing, and long may it continue.
Here are the comments from the judges:
Jen Hadfield said, ‘The most moving aspect of this book is that, despite harrowing first hand experiences of the invasion, misery is not the prevailing mood. Ukrainian trauma and suffering are more than balanced by hope, creativity, resilience and expression of identity: these are acts of resistance in the face of the surreal Russian strategy of denial. How she managed to write a book so celebratory in tone still astonishes me. It is written with love, care and genuine empathy.’
Cynan Jones said, ‘Stout lifts a book that could so easily be about death into a book about life. She bears witness bravely and unashamedly. It’s writing at the most human level, deeply moving and important.’
Peter Mackay said, ‘An incredible book for the first-person account that she can give, for the world that she evokes. It comes in a very good, long lineage of war reportage. It felt a privilege to be taken to some of those people and places, to trace the changing rhythms of the war, and the moments of loss and re-encounter.’
