This is a stand alone novel from the prodigious pen of Alexander McCall Smith. As in all his other novels, he gently explores philosophical questions about life and how best to live it. If we are treated unfairly, does this then give us permission to retaliate in a similar vain? If we know of someone’s dishonesty, are we then impelled to report said dishonesty? If we are hurt by the one we love, do we hurt them back?

This is primarily set on the Isle of Mull, which I was fortunate enough to visit last year. It’s isolated, and windswept and beautiful in a uniquely Scottish way! The pace of life is far removed from a busy life in Edinburgh. On the island it seems that there is time to have a conversation that matters. For example:
Neil: ‘Do you ever feel [that] angry? Real Anger?’
James: ’I often feel sad, rather than angry. Cruelty makes me feel that way. When I see somebody putting somebody down, or taking advantage of them, I just feel sad, really, that people can spoil things for other people when we’ve all got such a short time on this planet. I feel sad that people stop others from being happy.’

Or this hypothetical question:
James: ’If you were the midwife delivering the infant Hitler, wouldn’t you have felt justified in smothering him? That would presuppose that you knew what lay ahead, which you wouldn’t, of course.’
Neil: ‘Probably But even then, I don’t think I could.’
James: ‘You might surprise yourself.’

In a world that seems intent on destroying its environment and dropping bombs on the innocent, Alexander McCall Smith has written a balm that will sooth your soul. Thank you Sandy.

I am writing this review the day after the US election results…. So thank you Sandie for bring some light into the world as it goes to hell in a handbag. It soothes the soul to return to Botswana and its acacia trees and the company of Precious Ramotswe, Grace Makutsi (97 per cent in the final examinations of the Botswana Secretarial College) and their family, friends and clients.

Often I find the ‘mysteries’ in this series secondary to the ethical and philosophical questions raised and discussed. However, this was a good mystery: a successful hotel suddenly finds itself in trouble; scorpions found in hotel rooms; food poisoning incidents and items disappearing. As Mma Ramotswe herself falls victim to food poisoning, Grace must continue the investigation on her own. She must temper her usual jumping to conclusions, and remember the advice given by Clovis Andersen in The Principles of Private Detection, their business’s bible: ‘The obvious conclusion about somebody is often the wrong one’.

As always, McCall Smith peppers his book with precious pearls of wisdom. Mama Ramotswe ponders:

…sometimes an ordinary transaction, such as the purchase of a few pairs of socks, could turn into rather a long conversation if one was not careful. But was that a failing: In a world in which people seemed to have less and less time for others, she was not sure that exchanging views was something to be discouraged. A few kind words, a few remarks about this and that, could make a village of a city - and that was no bad thing, she felt.

And later, when she considers her first marriage to that nasty piece of work, Note Mokoti, ‘she had forgiven him and told him that there was no hate in her heart because she knew that you only lengthened the shadow of a bad marriage if you withheld forgiveness and nurtured hate’.

However, even Precious can reach her limits, and when she does ‘something within [her] snapped. She was not sure what it was, but it made the same sound that an elastic band makes when it is stretched to breaking point. Perhaps, she thought we have invisible elastic bands within us, and these are the things that control our temper. Perhaps this is the sound they make when we are goaded beyond endurance and they snap’.

This review contains an overload of quotes, but I found so much in this book that I wanted to share and be able to return to. So I finish with yet another quote, this time about Precious’s father. I too was lucky enough to have a wonder father, so this passage made me a little teary….

Not a day went past but that she thought of her father, and of how he had supported and encouraged her in all that she did. If she closed her eyes, she could hear him; she could hear him calling her ‘My Precious’ as he always did, and the memory brought tears, not so much of sadness - for he had been gone a long time now - but of pride and joy that Obed Ramotswe had been her father. To be the daughter of such a man, she felt, was the greatest possible good fortune, especially when there are so many other, lesser men of whom one might have been the daughter, had things been different.’ Amen to that.

Satisfactory conclusions are reached, mysteries are resolved and peace is restored (if only the real world could so easily find such peace).

McCall Smith has written another delightful instalment in this wonderful series. As always, it is full of gentle humour and sage advice. The ‘mysteries’ are almost a side-hustle, as the reader spends time with Precious Romotswe, Grace Makutsi, Mr J.L.B. Matekoni and the other characters we have grown to know and love over the previous twenty three books. And of course, Botswana, which is an integral part of this series. McCall Smith’s obvious love of this country shines as a constant.

I can’t help but notice that none of the characters in this book are attached to their phones. A large part of the appeal of these books is that people stop and listen to each other when they talk, and I mean really listen to each other - a skill that seems to be rapidly disappearing in our world as people can’t drag themselves away from their mobile phone screens.

Here’s a favourite paragraph:

She made her way out onto the veranda, her favourite spot at this time of day, when the sun sank slowly over the line of the horizon, that green line of distant acacia trees, and when small flocks of chattering birds darted across the sky, back to the trees that were to be their home for the night. She thought of this as a time of winding down, when the concerns of the workplace were put aside, and families came together to perform the domestic tasks that would put the day to bed. She often sat there with the children in the evening, before they went off to bed. They would tell her of the events of their day, of the issues that had arisen at school, of the passions and problems of their world - so small to outsiders, but so big to a child. And she would tell them of how she had spent her day, of how Mma Makutsi had said something amusing or of how Fanwell had told a funny story he had heard from one of his friends, or they would just sit and think about things in general, not needing to say anything to one another.

One does not read a No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency book with an expectation that there will be fast car chases, bloody murder or cynical detectives. Instead, one returns to the warm embrace of much-loved characters (even if Mma Makutsi can be a tad sharp)!

This is the twenty-third instalment of the series and there are no real surprises herein. In fact, there are no real crimes as such. Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi are dealing more with issues of the heart and unscrupulous business practices.

For me, it is the philosophical meanderings that make all the books in this series a delight. Here are a couple that particularly resonate with me:

As Mma Ramostswe waits on the telephone line for Mia Potokwani, she hears the sound of birdsong. ‘At first, she thought it was some form of interference, but then she recognised it for what it was: there was a bird on Mma Potokwani’s veranda, and it was singing to her. She smiled as she listened to the unexpected musical performance, and asked herself why the manufacturers of telephone equipment did not use birdsong rather than the frequently strident music they inflicted upon callers when they were asked to wait. If music was intended to calm people while they were being connected, then surely birdsong would do that more effectively.’

‘To have eliminated something negative - something like disloyalty - always left a person feeling more hopeful about the world. She felt better now. Each time you saw the good where you feared you would only see the bad, was a victory; a small victory, perhaps, and one that might appear to be dwarfed by surrounding defeats, but a victory nonetheless. And small victories counted, especially when you lined them up and thought about them warmly; they counted for a great deal.’

I am a huge fan of Alexander McCall Smith’s novels, particularly [b:The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency|7061|The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency (No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency #1)|Alexander McCall Smith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1459953654l/7061.SY75.jpg|826298] which is an absolute delight. I’m afraid this series doesn’t particularly resonate with me. I read the first book, but can’t remember anything about it. So I thought I’d read the second book and give the series a chance. But again, I’ve almost totally forgotten what it was about - there are just no hooks to grab hold of. It’s a pleasant enough book to pass the time with, but there are so many great books about, I don’t feel my time has been well spent reading this one.

However, there was one paragraph that made me laugh out loud, and for that, I thank you very much Sandy!

Ulf looked up at the ceiling, which was painted in a light shade of green. Green was meant to be a restful colour, he thought, and that must be why Dr. Svensson had chosen it for his consulting-room ceiling. Presumably people looked up at his ceiling a lot, and he would want them to feel calmed. There were some ceilings that were definitely not calming, possibly because they said too much. A ceiling should not be strident, thought Ulf. The Sistine Chapel ceiling, for instance, said rather too much, beautiful though it may be in a Catholic sort of way. Ulf liked Protestant ceilings, which, as a rule, were less vocal.

I cannot resist this series! McCall Smith has again written a charming and gentle story set in Botswana and featuring Precious Ramotswe, together with the usual support characters that I have grown to love over the previous twenty-one books.

As is always the case, the book is less about the plot and more about the philosophical questions raised, and the discussions that follow.

Questions about the role of women in society: ‘We have always asked too much of women in this country. They hold up the sky on their shoulders’.

Questions about modern slavery: ‘We thought that slavery was a thing of the past, but that was not true. There were slaves right under our noses - everywhere - all over the world’.

Questions about generational differences: ‘His two young mechanics lived in a completely different world, it seemed to him. This was not the world that he and Mma Ramotswe inhabited - a world in which people went about their business in an orderly way, drank tea at regular intervals, and retired to bed before nine-thirty at night’.

And always the acknowledgement of the wisdom of our elders: ‘We were not the first people to tread where we now trod; countless ancestors had come exactly this way. And although their footprints might have been blown away by the wind, we could sense their presence if only we opened our eyes and ears to it. And we could hear their voices, too, if we listened hard enough. We could hear their warnings, their encouragements, their advice - if only we turned our head to the wind and heard the voices, faint and distant, that the wind carried’.

The Joy and Light Bus Company does not disappoint. As the world faces its third year of pandemic, sharing bush tea and fruit cake with Precious Ramotswe, Grace Makutsi, J.L.B. Matekoni and the indomitable Mma Potokwani is like a soothing salve. Enjoy.

Set in 1938 Ceylon and the dying days of the British Empire, The Pavilion in the Clouds is a stand alone novel from the prodigious pen of Alexander McCall Smith.
I have mixed emotions about this book. I found parts a bit of a plod - I wasn’t as engaged with the characters as I usually am with McCall Smith’s novels. In fact, not a lot happens for much of the novel. There are long passages of the characters’ thoughts. Much time is spent by young Bella and her mother being suspicious of the governess - is she having an affair with Bella’s father? These people have too much idle time on their hands! There were echos of Atonement as Bella does something that will affect many lives, for many years.
McCall Smith creates a sense of claustrophobia in this ex-pat community which is clinging on to the last vestiges of a colonial life of comfort. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. Women are bored; men are all powerful.
As always, this is a gentle book, and in these turbulent times, it is like a soothing salve for the reader’s bruised soul.

You read books for different reasons: some books take you on a rollercoaster ride, some books make you leave the lights on after dark, and some books return you to the company of old friends. And so it is with How to Raise an Elephant, the twenty-first book in The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series. The books in this series are less about plot, and more about the people who populate the books and how they feel and what they think.

McCall Smith has a gift for putting into words the quandaries that trouble many of us. Issues of world importance, and issues of no importance at all, are given equal consideration over steaming cups of bush tea. The climate change crisis: ‘Everybody wanted to look after the world, but nobody wanted to give up anything they already had’. The drought: ‘…will the [rains] ever come? Each year they seem to be later and later, and when they do break, they are sometimes no more than a wind with a few drops of water in its eyes.’ Kindness: ‘unkindness was never the way to convert others to a truth of any sort. On the contrary, it was kindness and concern that changed people within, that could soften the hardest of hearts, that could turn harsh words into words of love’. And grief: ‘Late people talk to us, but most of the time we are not listening because we are so busy … But then, when we stop for a moment and catch our breath, we might just hear the voices of the late people who love us, and they are whispering to us, quietly, like the wind that moves across the dry grass; and we know that it is them, although we also know that it cannot be them, for they are late. And so we try hard to hear, just to be sure, and their voices fade away and there is nothing once again.’

I have a sense of bereavement whenever I finish my time in Botswana with the wise and kind Precious Ramotswe, and Mma Makutsi, (who can communicate disapproval or scepticism via a simple sniff); Mma Potokwani, who is tireless in her care for orphan children (and the baking of fruit cake) and Mr J. L. B. Matekoni, owner of Speedy Motors and gentle husband of Mma Ramotswe. All these people are much more than mere characters in a book, they are like family: and like family some are loveable, and some are annoying, but all are precious.

McCall Smith has selected a number of old sepia photographs to inspire these short stories. Some are more successful than others. They all contain his usual generous approach to humanity and our foibles. “I’d Cry Buckets” was the stand-out for me; incredibly poignant and infused with a sense of loss and longing.

‘If David or Bruce were asked whether they were happy, both would have replied yes, they were, although there might have been a moment’s hesitation before that reply was given. But if you only have to hesitate for a moment in considering that question, then you are probably happy enough, which is as much as most of us can expect.’

I am the No. 1 fan of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. However, I found this, the 20th book in the series, seriously disappointing.
Nothing much happens, and a lot of what does happen is forgettable. I felt I was being lectured to, rather than bestowed with Mma Ramotswe’s usual gems of gentle wisdom.
I think McCall Smith needs to take a deep breath, and slow down his production of books, so that he can give each one the attention it deserves.
However, here is a small pearl of wisdom from Precious that did resonate with me:
‘Kindness, after all, did not distinguish between those who merited it, and those who did not. It was like rain, she thought. It fell everywhere and made everything green and new and alive once more. That is what it did.’
I won’t give up on Precious and her friends and family in Botswana. I hope her next mystery is, well, more mysterious, and a little more exciting!

Prescription for a soul that feels the world is too hard a place to bear: make a soothing cup of tea and snuggle up with The Department of Sensitive Crimes.

Reading a novel by Alexander McCall Smith feels as if a soothing balm is being applied to all the hurts and injuries inflicted by the world around us. This may be a new series set in Sweden, but it carries all the hallmarks of a McCall Smith story: plenty of heart and quiet wisdom.

Ulf Varg leads a team of detectives in Malmo’s Department of Sensitive Crimes. Ulf is, as described by his colleague Carl, “the best, kindest, funniest person I know. You are also the most truthful.”

The crimes are really just a device for McCall Smith to ruminate on life, and raise some questions that are worth answering. Here are a few fine examples:

Regarding trust: “What has happened to trust? What sort of place have we become? They were painful questions, and for that reason people avoided asking them.”

Regarding belief: “And what was wrong in believing in St Francis, who was gentle, and beloved of animals, when there was so much wrong with the world?”

Regarding ageing: “When you’re twenty, you can’t imagine your forty-year-old self.”

Regarding gentlemanly behaviour: “The things that men were now supposed not to do were precisely the things that gentlemen were not meant to do anyway - so what was the difference? Were we simply becoming old-fashioned again, as societies tended to do when they saw the consequences of tearing up the behavioural rule book?”

The Department of Sensitive Crimes is another delightfully gentle novel from McCall Smith, introducing new characters that I can see will develop over the series to become old friends. There are no nasty surprises, no ghastly murders, nor heartless felons; only quiet wisdom and kindness. Some readers may argue that this is all too twee and unrealistic. I disagree. I feel there is always a place for kindness and a gentle touch.

I cannot pretend to be anything other than a McCall Smith tragic. I love his gentle take on life, and always feel refreshed on finishing one of his many novels.
The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series is very close to my heart, and as this is the 19th instalment, all the characters are now like close friends.
The Colours of all the Cattle does not disappoint. It has all the essential ingredients to make an utterly wonderful escape to Botswana.
Mma Ramotswe is convinced by her friends to stand for local government, which leads to much ruminating on the often bad behaviour of politicians and those in power - rather pertinent in the current state of world politics.
As always, however, the common thread throughout this latest novel is the important of kindness:
"[Mma Ramotswe] sighed. If only people….could remember that the people they met during the day had all the same hopes and fears that they had, then there would be so much less conflict and disagreement in this world. If only people remembered that, then they would be kinder to others - and kindness, Mma Ramotswe believed, was the most important thing there was."
Wise words indeed.

Yet another charming novel from the extraordinarily prolific McCall Smith. I really don’t know how he manages to produce so many entertaining books, without repeating himself or getting boring - but he does!
This is the 12th Isabel Dalhousie novel. It does enhance the experience if you’ve read the previous books, however, McCall Smith is very adroit at filling in the backstory for new readers.
Like most McCall Smith books, this novel is less plot driven, and more about the characters internal landscapes; particularly those internal dialogues we all have regarding the rights and wrongs of our actions.
Isabel is a philosopher, so spends much time ruminating on her actions and moral decisions. This may not be to everyone’s taste, but I think that our world would be a much better place if we all did likewise!
Towards the end of this novel, Isabel picks up a book entitled Buddhist Ethics and opens it at random. She notes a paragraph heading: “Love and compassion are the only balm” and underlines the words. I think you could apply this heading to describe not only The Quiet Side of Passion, but to all Alexander McCall Smith’s delightful novels.
So, put the kettle on, and settle in with a soothing cuppa and this latest dose of “love and compassion”.

Please see my review for Reading Time:
http://readingtime.com.au/max-champion-and-the-great-race-car-robbery/

Every now and then McCall Smith makes a departure from his numerous series to write a one-off novel. I’m not sure these books are as successful as his others, but they always express the same sentiments: kindness is supreme, love conquers all!
I liked the main character Val who works at a local farm as a land girl in England during WWII. And of course she falls in love with Mike, an American aviator, stationed in England.
It’s not all smooth sailing for Val and her American pilot, who crash lands in enemy territory. However, he has Peter Woodhouse with him. Peter Woodhouse is a dog, and it’s this unusual companion that helps Mike make an unlikely friend and protector.
This is a novel about inhumane times, where the people involved behave in a very humane way. And this is why I love Alexander McCall Smith: he always sees the best in his characters, and his characters rise to the occasion, always following their internal moral compasses, and choosing the way of kindness and generosity. When I finish a novel by McCall Smith, it’s usually with a sense that there is still hope for the human race.

How I love to spend time with Precious Ramotswe. Her kindness and generosity are the perfect antidote to our cynical world. I always feel I can be a better person after my time with Precious.
This is the 18th instalment in the series, and McCall Smith still manages to engage us with a fresh mystery and some very personal issues for Precious. Here is a perfect example of one of Precious’ introspective conversations she has with herself:
Those images of those old places, the places you come from, never completely disappear. They remain with you, those scraps of memory; those pictures somewhere in your mind of how things were, of what the sun looked like when it shone through the window of your childhood room and caught floating specks of dust in its rays….
And I was myself transported back to my own childhood bedroom….
Moments like this are peppered throughout this novel.
So make yourself a cup of red bush tea, grab a slice or two of fruit cake, and enjoy another adventure with Precious Ramotswe, Grace Makutsi and all the other marvellous characters Alexander McCall Smith has created.

I am an unashamed fan of Mr McCall Smith. I adore The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency series, and have returned to the Isabel Dalhousie series after a bit of a break. As always with a McCall Smith book, our narrator has ethical issues with which to grapple, and internal dialogues regarding what actions are best taken. This novel is less about plot, and more about how Isabel tries to lead a compassionate and ethical life. For anyone familiar with Edinburgh (or wishing to be so!) this series of books has some of the highlights of this wonderful city. (I’ve been taking notes for my up-coming visit of cafes to visit and sights to see.) Ultimately, this is a book that celebrates kindness. Read it and feel a little less cynical about our world!

I cannot lie - I am a huge fan of this series. I know, it’s not high literature, but I don’t care! Precious could philosophize about paint drying and I would be enthralled. However, she ruminates on much more serious matters, including whether dogs have souls and the toxic effect of seeking retribution. This is the 17th novel in the series, and it doesn’t fail to engage and delight. So, get cosy with a cuppa tea and settle in with your friends Precious and Grace as they solve a few mysteries, help a stray dog find a home and discuss the importance of forgiveness.

I cannot lie - I love this series. I can’t wait to return to Botswana and sit under an acacia tree with Mma Ramotswe and drink Bush tea. It sometimes feels like there’s not much happening in these slender volumes, but when you reach the end, you realise that you have just been lulled by the gentle pace of the storytelling and in fact many strands have been neatly collected and concluded satisfactorily.
I know there is a school of thought that when faced with a dilemma asks “what would Jane Austen do?” Sod Jane Austen’s advice; I’d be asking for Mma Ramotswe’s kind and generous solution to any dilemma - I’m sure it would be much more useful.
Thank Alexander McCall Smith for your wonderful and wise Mma Romotswe.

I really can’t hide the fact that I am a huge fan of this series by the wonderful Alexander McCall Smith. This latest instalment does not disappoint. Spending time with the kind and insightful Mma Ramotswe (of traditional build), her prickly friend Mma Makutsi (whose shoes play an important role) and all the other wonderful characters who are part of The No. One Ladies Detective Agency, is always rewarding and refreshing. It’s like catching up with old friends and hearing all their news. Alexander MCall Smith wears his heart on his sleeve (via his characters) and nearly always sees the best in people, even when they appear on the surface to be morally corrupt. Good always wins in his books, and I, for one, like that very much. Our world can be rather bleak, and it’s a lovely escape to lose yourself for a while in Mma Ramotswe’s Botswana.
As always, highly recommended.

I was lucky enough to hear Mr McCall Smith speak in Sydney recently and was absolutely charmed by how extraordinarily funny and self deprecating he is in person. So I must confess that I am a bit of a fan.
However, when I started this book, I didn’t warm to it at all. But it won me over and I ended up liking it more than I thought I would! It’s not No. 1 Ladies, but then again, that series is pretty hard to beat. I love that Mr McCall Smith’s characters usually have a strong moral compass and, like the rest of us mere mortals, have to grapple with trying to make the right choices, even when they would really rather do something else entirely. As a portrayal of unrequited love, it is spot on: frustrating and at times achingly sad.