I loved The Two Roberts by Damian Barr. He brings these two artists to life in full, vibrant colour and fills them with their zest for life, for art, and for each other. It’s a tough, yet tender story, brutal in places, incredibly poignant in others.

The poignancy is added to by both Colquhoun and MacBryde’s love of the Glasgow School of Art, a building gutted by fire, which is now in such a terrible state of neglect – the building a shadow of Charles Renee McIntosh’s former glory.

Damian Barr has given us a novel that feels less like a retelling and more like a reliving of their lives. In Bobby MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun he finds not just artists, but lovers whose lives carried the weight of their times—times when queerness had to be coded, hidden, endured. The book is a testament not only to their passion for art but also to the tenderness and terror of being two young men in love when that love was still a crime. Indeed, being a working-class artist was strange enough in itself, far more so in a country like Scotland, where homosexuality was illegal right up until 1984.

Barr is meticulous in his evocation of 1930s Scotland. He does not romanticise the Lees Boot Factory from which Bobby escapes, nor does he gloss over the fact that even within the comparatively bohemian walls of the Glasgow School of Art, homosexuality was shadowed by criminalisation. What strikes me most is Barr’s understanding of how the law did more than threaten—it shaped the men’s identities, their friendships, even their creative processes. Their intimacy is described in moments stolen in private, and always with the anxiety of discovery hovering at the edges. This ever-present fear infuses the prose with a kind of tense beauty: I was reminded again and again that secrecy was both prison and catalyst, sharpening their attachment to each other.

At the same time, Barr is clear-eyed about the class divide. MacBryde, a factory worker’s son from Maybole, feels the weight of every penny, the precariousness of every opportunity. Colquhoun, a Kilmarnock lad, though equally marked by Scotland’s poverty, navigates art school with a different kind of fragility—quieter, more internalised, but still vulnerable. Together, they are both insiders and outsiders, celebrated for their talent yet never quite safe, never entirely at ease in rooms filled with privilege. This doubleness—the exhilaration of being chosen, and the sting of being reminded of one’s origins—runs like a current beneath the love story. Barr gives us devotion, obsession, ecstasy, and despair—sometimes within the same page.

He channels their fear, their secrecy, and how that shaped both how they loved and painted. Their lives are full of things unsaid, closed doors, hidden studios, suppressed desires. Those constraints become part of their art. And their love is strengthened by what is forbidden—but also eroded by it.

As their world expands into wartime London and the glamorous, and sometimes corrosive, company of Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud and Elizabeth Smart, Barr does not let us forget that these two working-class boys from Ayrshire are still carrying both stigma and longing. Their wild parties and the artistic acclaim they garner only intensify the volatility of their relationship, almost as if fame is accelerating their burnout. Their success can’t shield them from loneliness, addiction, and emotional burnout. Class still claws at them — the precariousness, the sense that wherever they go, they carry home and all its weight on their backs.

The tragedy is not only in their decline but in how poverty and invisibility followed. For all their talent, The Two Roberts almost slipped out of collective memory. Today, they are nowhere near as acknowledged as they should be. With this book, Barr has remedied a wrong.

Barr’s novel restores them with reverence and rage. It is a love letter but also a lament: for the art world that did not know how to handle them, for a society that criminalized their desire, and for the fleeting nature of a love that should have had the chance to endure. I finished the book full of heartache for them, but grateful to Barr for bringing them back into focus.

I liked the first half of "The Two Roberts", but then the story somewhat lost me. There were a lot of time jumps and the writing style was a little to flowery for my taste.

This was a great read and a great reimagining of the lives and love of these two artists. Before reading this book, I had little to no knowledge about these artists nor their lives but it was really entertaining, at times heartbreaking, and full of love and life in a time when they were not permitted to live as their true selves.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the chance to read this ARC.

This is part fact part fiction and reimagines the story of a couple who became known in the art world as The Two Roberts. Robert Colquhoun and Bobby MacBryde met in 1933 at the Glasgow school of art and, after some reluctance became inseparable first as tentative friends, and then, as that friendship grew, lovers. They lodged together, worked together, socialised together, travelled together, until war separated them and they were never the same again.
To be honest, before this book I had never heard of them. I decided to try and go in blind and read the book first but it soon became obvious that that was not going to happen. But I actually think I had a better time with the book as I both discovered them within its pages as well as complemented that with my forays into the internet. Like illustrations in a book. I also got to the end where the author mentions a TV program they were filmed for so off I popped to watch that at the same time as I was having it described to me. Brought that to life too.
As for the Roberts. I found them fascinating and the fact that their love was forbidden and had to be hidden so very sad. I already knew that it was illegal back then and I am already familiar with another couple who had to deal with this albeit in the 60s and we all know how that one ended - Orton and Halliwell - and being a big Joe Orton fan and having read pretty much everything written by and about him, including his diaries and complete works, I can't help but draw parallels between the two couples especially the volatility and also when their professional relationship stopped being equal.
Despite not knowing what is fact and what has come from the imagination of the author I think he has delivered a wonderful, and respectful love story. He has brought them to life and taken them on a wholly credible path, peppered with real people and real events. I especially loved the alternative ending, the one he wished had happened. Oh the things that we miss out on when the stars go out so early...
My thanks go to the Publisher and Netgalley for the chance to read this book.

Oh and, as an aside, I now know why one of my local libraries is called the Carnegie Library...

This is a wonderful reimagination of the love story between Robert Colquhoun and Robert MacBryde, Ayrshire artists who meet on their way to the Glasgow School of Art in 1933 and are barely separated during their lifetime. A magical mix of romance, history and a revival of Scottish Artists whose story is not best known it travels through Glasgow, the European continent during the months before the outbreak of World War 2, London during the War and the surrounding areas thereafter. The bond between the two men as they navigate life in the 1930s-1950s in a relationship which is both intense and illegal yet filled with tenderness and chaos is told so powerfully. Hopefully this book will bring attention back to these artists and allow a new generation to discover their work.

Robert Colquhoun and Bobby MacBryde were celebrated artists whose heyday covered the late 1930s to the 1950s when tastes changed and the two artists fell out of favour ending their career in poverty.

I knew nothing about the two painters when I began this novel (and it is, Damien Barr assures us, a fiction held together by facts). I simply read it as a love story between two talented young men living in a time when homosexuality was illegal.

It is an absolutely enthralling story (no matter how much is true) and Damien Barr brings the two to vivid life. There's triumph and tragedy both in this story which encompasses some of the most exciting times in the art and literary world (the Roberts knew the Bloomsbury set and Francis Bacon amongst others. They certainly lived life in the fast lane.

Damien Barr has written a beautiful homage to these two Scots. I would definitely recommend this novel. I certainly want to know more about the two Roberts. I also want to read more of Damien Barr's work.

Thankyou to Netgalley and Canongate Books for the advance review copy.

A stunning novel that finds many moments of beautiful and complex intimacy for two real men in history, and imagines what their lives might have been like. Incredibly well-researched and tenderly told, this book is a treasure.

I received a digital copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

I was unfamiliar with these two artists, and welcomed some insight into the Glasgow school of art between the wars. Their struggles are the struggles of all artists, particularly those from poor backgrounds, but their slip from favour and fortune into scrounging from friends came as an irritating surprise. I did try to love them, but they did not come across as deserving of sympathy. Surely they could have halted their descent by behaving less like the archetypical brawling, boozing Scots they seem to become. The sentimental alternative at the end just made me even less sympathetic.

Many thanks to the author, Damien Barr, NetGalley, and the publishers, Canongate, for a digital ARC of this novel, which is published on 4 September. It’s a fictionalised account of two Scottish painters, Robert Colquhoun and Robert MacBryde, whose lives are brilliantly recreated by Barr. I absolutely loved it.
The two Roberts were working-class boys from the west of Scotland who met at the world-famous Glasgow School of Art. (The opening chapters of this book feel like a love letter to that institution, which suffered two serious fires in 2018 and 2022.) Both hugely talented, they graduated at the top of their class, and when Colquhoun won the travelling scholarship for best student, MacBryde was awarded an equivalent stipend by special dispensation. At some point, the two became lovers and they remained together for the rest of their tumultuous lives.
They enjoyed success early on in their careers: by their mid-twenties, they were known as “the golden boys of Bond St” for the money they were generating for galleries. However, both were generous to a fault and imprudent with money, and when their work fell out of fashion in the 1950's, they didn’t have a cushion to fall back on. (The Irish writer Anthony Cronin, who was friends with them, writes that the pair were “often destitute” at that time, and spent any money they came upon immediately.) It didn’t help that both had developed a dependency on alcohol, erasing much of their ability to work.
I listened to a talk with Barr at the Edinburgh International Book Festival in which he said he wanted the book to be filled with possibility and passion, and he cleverly elides time at their lowest ebb by presenting the late fifties through a series of letters the pair send to various acquaintances, which makes the book far less sad than it could have been. There’s also a wonderful set-piece towards the end based on an incident Cronin told of a night the Roberts spend at Cronin’s house, which is told with humour and warmth, and yet also shows how difficult and physically abusive their relationship could be.
This is the story of two eventful lives, and two brilliant men who deserve to be better known. I really hope that it brings attention back to the work of both painters. Barr is a also a wonderful stylist, and most of the novels I’ve read since have seriously suffered by comparison with this. I hope you’ll consider picking it up.

What a wonderfully gentle novel about two Scottish artists I hadn't been aware of at all. I mean I'm sure I've seen some of their work before, but their story is so much more than their work. However, it's the kind of novel that has inspired me to find out more and would love to see the exhibition that Barr has also been working on.

Back to the novel, this is a human story of two men who loved one another, but society said their love wasn't allowed. Its painful to be reminded of how hateful people were and then recall how bad our current society is for hate.

My favourite part was Bobby and Robert's first years at The Glasgow School of art, I never got to go inside that building,but I partied in the union across the road plenty. The descriptions are vivid, creating a strong sense of place. And then Bobby and Robert breathe life into school. I was genuinely enchanted by these characters, especially the lively personality of Bobby. It is a proper love story at this part seeing how they interact and find a safe place to be together, away from others.

I didnt love Bobby and Robert's behaviour throughout, but couldnt let them out of my heart. I think its just so wonderfully written that you accept these characters in all their shades of black, white and grey.

We meet Morris, a character created by Barr who helps both men finsbtheir community and begin to understand themselves. The story follows both Roberts across the country as they end up in London and the surrounding areas where they face plenty of ups and downs in their careers and personal life. I loved the interweaving of people I had heard of and how intwined their lives were.

My favourite part changed by the end as I adored how Damian Barr rounded off this beautiful and diffficult story of The Two Roberts and I broke my heart. The whole novel was just written so tenderly, yet felt like an honest depiction.

I am a fan of Damian Barr, since reading his first book Maggie and Me. (Highly recommended if you haven’t read it already.) The Two Roberts must have been a difficult but exciting story to research. We learn about their time as very young men at the Glasgow School of art in the 1930s, through their lives in Europe and London. It shows how hard it was to be gay, to be an artist, and to survive in that world when coming from a working class background.
Their passion and zest for life made this a fascinating read, and Barr does an amazing job in taking us on their journey. I’d definitely recommend this book for a book clubs, with so much to talk about think about and reflect on. I hope to get to see the author at a literary festival this year to hear more about his research and writing process. I really liked it and I’m very happy to give it five stars.

The Two Roberts is a stunningly evocative and deeply moving work of historical fiction that brings to life the story of Bobby MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun, two artists whose love and talent burned brightly in a world that was not ready for them.

Beginning in Glasgow in 1933, the book follows Bobby as he leaves the factory floor for the Glasgow School of Art, where he meets Robert and begins a partnership that will shape both their lives.

Their story unfolds against the backdrop of a Europe on the brink of war, their brilliance taking them from Glasgow to Paris, Rome and London. In these cities, they shine among a glittering cast of artists, writers and thinkers, living passionately, recklessly and with a devotion that defies convention. Barr’s writing is affectionate and immersive, filled with warmth and tenderness, yet never shying away from the heartbreak and struggles that marked their lives.

The characters are vividly drawn, so much so that Bobby and Robert feel like old friends. The book captures both the intoxicating highs of their creative successes and the devastating lows of prejudice, poverty and obsession. The meticulous research is beautifully woven with lyrical prose, giving the book both historical authenticity and emotional resonance.

What makes this book exceptional is Barr’s choice to offer two endings. One is historically accurate and tragic, while the other is imagined, a bittersweet wish for a love story that might have ended differently. Both are profoundly affecting and leave the reader with a sense of loss for what was and what might have been.

The Two Roberts is a powerful and unforgettable love story about art, class, devotion and the cost of brilliance. It is also a poignant act of remembrance, ensuring that the legacy of MacBryde and Colquhoun is not forgotten.

Read more at The Secret Book Review.

I absolutely adored every single page of this book. Damian Barr paints the most tender, colourful, albeit often tragic, atypical love story of two extraordinarily talented young queer artists, born in a time when their love was sadly deemed criminal. The historical setting, takes place in the pre war 1930s, moving through the World War II and the 40s and then into the 50s - a time span during which the Roberts’ shone both by their dual success and subsequent demise, whilst rubbing friendly (and often debauched!) shoulders with the likes of more well known art world names, such as Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud, whom they themselves creatively influenced.

The two Roberts - the handsome introverted ‘Robert’ Colquhoun and charismatic, all round loveable, life loving ‘Bobbie’, Robert MacBryde (based on the real artists, whom I’d not heard of before) meet and quickly become inseparable, during their formative years at the impressive institution of the Glasgow School of Art. I’ve been lucky enough to visit the School of Art and the novel’s description of it was so perfectly portrayed I felt I was literally walking the dark heady Macintosh corridors and viewing the north lit studios to attend life drawing classes along side them. But the enchantment of the setting only served to enhance the incredible bond between the inseparable young men, and the tragedy of society’s (and the law’s) rejection of homosexuality.

I studied art history at university and sadly I never came across these two artists - but on completion I immediately googled them - their work certainly deserves greater mention. There is an up and coming exhibition of their work in - ‘Robert MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun: Artists, Lovers, Outsiders
15 October 2025–12 April 2026, Charleston in Lewes’ which is sure to further bring attention to their talents and place in the art world. Well done to Damian Barr for shining the light on them, which they deserve.

As someone who lives in Ayrshire and works in Glasgow, this was definitely a book for me. The use of language was word perfect and this was a beautifully told story about two great artists.

I’ll come right out and say it: The Two Roberts is extraordinarily good. It perfectly balances historical detail with heartfelt imagination to make a beautifully written and deeply absorbing portrait of Robert MacBryde and Robert Colquhoun – two Scottish artists that shared a lifetime.

I just love this meld of fact and fiction. I was unaware that the two Roberts were real people, but reading their story was an adventure and one which has whetted my appetite to find out more about the close knit circle in which they moved. This is such an intricate tale at so many levels. Their life ( and language) in Scotland in their earlier years contrasts significantly life in London and elsewhere later on. Through all the trials and tribulations, love and art shine through and I was swept in to their story which became increasingly poignant. The author adds a very helpful note giving the entire tale a twist and even more context. This is a book I’ll revisit at some point as I raced through and feel I may have missed some of the more nuanced elements.
My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for a review copy.

What I enjoyed most about the book was the use of language to evoke place and identity. Early in the book, I kept looking up the Scots words or phrases, which drew me closer to the world of the two Roberts.

This language fades somewhat with their travels and relocation to London, reflecting perhaps a loosening of one element of identity even as their artistic and social aspects blossomed.

My final feeling after reading is that this is a book of contrasts: between the characters of the two Roberts themselves, certainly - Bobby is bubbly and immediate, Robert more reserved and elusive.

But the contrasts - and attendant tension - are ever present in the story. An exuberant London life and community shines amidst the hard realities of war, family estrangement, and romantic entanglements. And the pursuit of love and art persists despite considerable personal and financial challenges, particularly in their later years. This part was painful to read about.

An interesting twist is the author providing the ending these men should have had: a one-page imagining that brings the two Roberts into a happier future.

Many thanks to the author, publisher and Net Galley for access to the ARC.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance copy of this book.

I enjoyed this, especially the part before they became famous. It is a very easy and fascinating read and is very funny in places. "Mais oui".

I am familiar with Glasgow, Kilmarnock and Maybole and i enjoyed reading about the places. I felt that the dialogue and use of Ayrshire words like "smirr" was spot on as was the gentle bantering and sense of humour. The dialogue and banter is so convincing that I thought the author was a fine Ayrshire lad himself, but I see he grew up in Lanarkshire, an entirely different kettle of fish!

What a great character Bobby is, no wonder women like him. He is annoying in his energy but more in a "shake your head exasperatedly" way rather than a "what a pain" way. He is funny, light hearted (at least when he is young) and irrepressible; he can make clothes and cook and "keeps a tidy house". He is also thrifty, at least before the pair become famous.

I enjoyed the relationship, life long and loving, between Bobby and Robert and I enjoyed their travels in Europe, particularly at the convent with the painting of Saint Sebastian and I felt a shiver run through me at Bobby's discovery.. When the boys moved to London, I enjoyed it slightly less and I don't think it is a spoiler to say that, their tragedy takes the all too familiar form of them becoming slaves to the demon drink and everything falling apart.

I wanted to read "The Two Roberts" by Damian Barr after I heard a Radio 2 bookclub / Sara Cox podcast. I certainly wasn't disappointed. I had absolutely no idea what it was going to be about - just that it was highly recommended. Wow, what a beautiful book. It gave me "In Memoriam" vibes (2nd World War, gay relationship) but that's where the similarities end. I hadn't realised that it was based on two real Scottish artists and whilst the ending was very tragic (such as life is), I absolutely loved the reimagined ending by the author. Still gives me goose bumps now and a little tear.

On the line level, this is frequently a gorgeous book - tender and beautifully written. But the early promise wasn't fulfilled for me. The challenge of maintaining interest and plot while writing about real people over a relatively long span of time had the focus drifting, particularly from the halfway mark.

If I'd known earlier that The Two Roberts were real and this were a work of biographical fiction, my expectations probably would have been quite different.