Books

Bookses Good and Middling

The Sunday Philosophy Club : An Isabel Dalhousie Mystery
By: Alexander McCall Smith

Finished this one a few days ago. I had really loved the “Ladies No. 1 Detective Agency” novels by the same author, and I hope to encounter a new favorite series with this one. That wasn’t the case, but I did enjoy meeting Isabel Dalhousie and seeing a bit of her world. She’s a very deep person who spends a lot of time thinking about things philosophical, romantic, and mysterious. Ultimately it’s an unsatisfactory read, because philosophy gets in the way of logic. In the real world, a bizarre “accidental” death like the one in the opening chapter would be investigated, and there would be some resolution. In Dalhousie’s world, after a perfunctory mention of the police and the “procurator fiscal” (the Scottish official responsible for investigating deaths), there’s no mention of any official notice taken. So when Dalhousie discovers the truth, she decides for herself that the authorities need not be advised of it. She justifies it to herself, but a typical hard-headed Scottish detective inspector would n’t have let his or her own feelings in the matter color their report; they would have handed the case on to be dealt with and for justice to be handed down.

Still, it was an enjoyable read. I’ll read the next one when I see it.

Little People
By: Tom Holt

This turned out to be a disappointment. It started out to be a bit flaky and different and amusing, and then it continued on being flaky and different and amusing in a much too self-aware way for far too long. The premise was funny and interesting: a young boy sees a tiny little elf in his back garden, and has a couple more encounters in his life while he’s working out that his stepfather’s shoemaking factory isn’t run according to conventional modern labor practices. Then things go seriously awry.

There are some missed opportunities; there’s a conversation the main character has with an escaped “elf” that begged a followup nearer the end of the book. And some of the plot points that Holt makes a “given” in the world he’s created come and go at his whim – when it’s no longer convenient, things no longer happen in the way they did earlier in the book.

Finally, the tone goes on being a little too wryly arch long after the story has become pretty much a hopeless downer. If I wanted to read a pastiche of Douglas Adams-like snickering asides during a narration, I’d go and dig my copy of “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe” out of whichever box it’s in. Adams was much better at it, and he used a narrative voice, where Holt uses first-person narration. Somehow, having your long-suffering main character bothering to add all the witty asides and snarky commentary while also getting on with telling his story just isn’t that funny after a while.

I’ve started another new book in the meantime. More on that later.

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