At the end of Middlemarch, George Eliot says of her heroine that "the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life…" The words are a fitting eulogy to my friend Lis Brady, a brave and generous woman of insatiable curiosity and fierce intelligence, who has died of lung cancer aged 64.
Lis Martin was born in Glasgow and educated at Laurel Bank school in the city. In her early career she was a medical researcher at the Western and Royal infirmaries in Glasgow. In 1973, she married a doctor, Paul Brady. While bringing up their young family in Edinburgh, she combined parenting with various roles: as a teacher, a medical secretary and latterly as a researcher and writer for the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland.
The range of her interests was breathtaking. She spoke French beautifully and was keen to learn other languages. Lis loved music and was herself an accomplished pianist. She was also passionate about art and throughout her life supported artists with warmth and generosity. Over a period of 20 years she was the major collector of my own work; while I was honoured to be patronised by a woman of such keen aesthetic sensitivity, I knew, too, that her concern for those struggling on the edges included impecunious artists.
Perhaps her most striking achievement was the completion of a master's in film studies at Edinburgh University, given that she was ill throughout the greater part of it. She was an active member of Edinburgh University Roman Catholic chaplaincy.
She is survived by Paul, their children, Sarah, Matthew and Gabriel, and a grandson, James.