Are you sick of me talking about how much I love Alexander McCall Smith? Do you find yourself wanting to say, "If you love him so much, Doppelganger, why don't you MARRY him?"
44 Scotland Street
by Alexander McCall Smith (#5)
I feel like, after my last post, I should ease into the weekend on a somewhat more upbeat note. And after reading notanillusion's touching concern for my mental wellbeing, what with the distressing literary and cinematic fare I've been taking in, I feel a need to reassure you all that I knew exactly what I needed after finishing The Year of Magical Thinking. I needed a book that is funny without being acidic or jarring. I needed a book that is warm and gentle and life-affirming. I needed a book that could wrap me up in a big fuzzy hug and hold me and pat my hair and whisper, "There, there. There, there." And once again, McCall Smith comes to the rescue.
I can't even tell you what the plot was. Vaguely Douglas Adams-ish (think Dirk Gently, not Hitchhiker's Guide), minus the loopiness. Something about a painting? And a secret underground tunnel? I'm pretty sure there's a dog in there somewhere, extremely charismatic, as dogs in novels tend to be.
But the thing is, it doesn't matter what the story was. If you're in a fragile state, or even if you're not, read it. Like me, you may not remember it when you're done, but that's all to the good. You can re-read it later.
TGIF! Group hug?
In order to keep your AMS love, please don't read The Sunday Philosophy Club. It was the first one I read after inhaling the No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency and it has put me off all his books.
Oh, man, do I ever need a group hug. What a week! (And the weather here is all grey and cranky today, which isn't helping.)
I've been hesitant about Alexander McCall Smith for a while. But I trust your judgment -- it's not treacly, right? I'm afraid of things that seem mostly billed as being heart-warming and whatnot, because my inner snark immediately assumes the literary equivalent of "Touched by an Angel." Or something.
So glad you liked it! And I have Espresso Tales right here waiting for you.
You know I haven't picked up a book for nearly 4 weeks? (I've been a little distracted.) Shocking, but I think Blue Shoes and Happiness might be the one that breaks the spell.
No offense to rustybelle, but I loved The Sunday Philosophy Club. It's very different from the Precious Ramotswe books, in that they are very African while it is very Scottish. I loved the sequel, Friends, Lovers, & Chocolate, too.
Pixie, no offence at all. I'm from the NE of Scotland myself and it just didn't resonate with me. As ever, differnet strokes.
I also luuurve all things Alexander McCall Smith! AND, I got to meet him (albeit briefly). You can link to the hilarious speech I saw him give at the DC National Book Fest this past August from my post about it. It cemented my love for him.
I loved this one, too! Very soothing. I'm am trying to get around to Espresso Tales - soon, soon. Like Rustybelle, I was very disappointed by Sunday Philosophy Club. It didn't put me off him, but it put me off any desire to read the rest of that particular series. I still have to attempt the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency.
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