My Weekly Book

Recently I undertook the reckless act of making a trip to a different library branch to the one I normally frequent – and there, quietly perusing the crime shelves, I had quite a serious shock, I can tell you. Time was when the publication of the latest in Alexander McCall Smith’s gentle series about Botswana’s only lady detective used to send me fleeing into Waterstones in quest of its brightly-coloured jacket. Now, I was a bit chastened to discover, no less than four had been published that I had neglected to read.

This is the third in a series of novels by the prolific Scots author Alexander McCall Smith featuring that philosopher, seeker after a good life and tireless student of human nature Isabel Dalhousie. It was picked up in impulse off a library shelf without my having read the second in the series, entitled Friends, Lovers, Chocolate, and with a certain amount of amused tolerance. This was because I like the work of Alexander McCall Smith a lot, but sometimes feel it would be better if he wrote a bit less. And this series is the one I could most easily see go by the wayside.

Another lovely instalment in the tale of Mma Precious Ramotswe and her increasingly large extended family. But I have become aware that, for some reason, these later books seem to have lost their edginess.

I have just finished the third volume of the chronicles of Alexander McCall Smith’s No 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency and, like the others, it was a joy. And like the others, I read it from cover to cover in less than 24 hours.