44 Scotland Street

Reading this book was like drinking a cup of hot cocoa in a cozy warm kitchen while the rain pitter patters outside. Sigh. I drank up the sequal (which wasn't quite as lovely) and I check daily for the 3rd in the series - the triquel?? Daily? Yes, daily. I have a neat little research room in the university library due to an office shortage in the department in which I'm studying, so each day on my way to the stairwell I swing by the 2 rows of English fiction. I could easily put a hold on it, but I rather find it just when I need it.

McCall Smith wrote this novel in installments for the newspaper (so I think this is why it moves along a little faster with a bit more oooomph than the Ladies Detective Series) - and believe it or not, some of the characters are real people as themselves, or under different names, in the city of Edinburgh. In his own words -

"What I have tried to do in 44 Scotland Street is to say something about life in Edinburgh which will strike readers as being recognizable about this extraordinary city and yet at the same time be a bit of light-hearted fiction. I think that one can write about amusing subjects and still remain within the realm of serious fiction. It is observing the minor ways of people that one can still see very clearly the moral dilemmas of our time. One task of fiction is to remind us of the virtues- of love and forgiveness, for example - and these can be portrayed just as well in an ongoing story of everyday life as they can on a more ambitious and more leisurely canvas."
Well put. These days I'm surrounded by quite a bit of posturing under the guise of knowledge sharing, although, I can't say I wasn't forewarned about this, so it's lovely to consider the worth of the simple things we enjoy, that they are not insignificant in the greater scheme of things.

Divisadaro by Michael Ondaatje

I loved Anil's Ghost, so I knew I would love Divisadaro. The tale begins in Northern California during the 1970's - a man loses his wife during the birth of their first child and ends up raising three children. How? A woman dies during labour the same day as his wife and he offers to takes this baby as well. He has also taken in Coop, sole survival of the brutal slaying of his family on a neighbouring plot. Claire, Anna and Coop are intimate with loss, and on the cusp of passion and adulthood when a tragic accident and a forbidden love splinter the family. The story finds Claire in San Francisco, Coop gambling in Nevada and Anna writing in France, and yet there is an unbreakable bond between them. Poetic, atmospheric and full of the dark and the light this is a beautiful book. Peopled with characters who know hardship, ruin, self-destruction, beauty, and how to find one's own unique way in the world.

"I came to France, in the 34th year of my life, to research the life and works of Lucien Segura. I had flown to Orly, my friend Branka had met my plane, and we drove through the darkening outskirts, passing the smaller peripheral towns that were like blinks of light as we travelled south. We had not seen each other in over a year, and now we were catching up, talking all the way. Branka had packed a hamper of fruit, bread, and cheese, and we ate most of it, and drank from a constantly refilled glass of red wine that we shared."

- sounds nice, but what, they were drinking and driving? ah, fiction.

"There was now not a single lite streetlamp in the villages we passed, just our headlights veering and sweeping along the two-lane roads. We were alone in the world, in nameless and unseen country. I love such journeying at night. You have most of your life strapped to your back. Music on the radio comes faint and intermittent. You are wordless at last. Your friend's hand on your knee to make sure you are not drifting away. The black hedges coax you on."

"

Timbuktu

Timbuktu by Paul Aster

I have to admidt that I skimmed a great deal of the first half. The rantings of a the dog's companion and lifelong love, a homeless man, were just too monotonous and familiar for those of us who have worked in public libraries. This book truly took flight for me in the last few chapters. This is sometimes the case when one enjoys the prose but not the topic.

"Paula loved the house but she didn't love Dick. This had become manifestly clear to Mr. Bones, and although Polly herself didn't know it yet, it wouldn't be long before the truth finally came crashing down on top of her. That was why she needed Mr. Bones, and because he loved her more than nay other living person in the world, he was glad to serve as her confidant and sounding board. There was no one else to fill this role for her, and even though he was a mere dog who could neither counsel her nor answer her questions, his simple presence as an ally was enough to giver her the courage to take certain steps she might not have taken otherwise."