It dragged on for too long, making the good bits not as good. The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency is far, far better.

Comprising:
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs
At the Villa of Reduced Circumstances

My friend Carlotta told me I just had to read these books. She swore they had her rolling around the floor with tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks. I should have known to tone down my expected response. After all, she’d claimed similar things for the exploits of Don Alonso Quixano (that is to say, el Señor Quijote).

And this trilogy is much in a quixotic vein, or really, a sort of modern-day(ish) Candide. Though the modern day seems puzzlingly anachronistic, and the exploits of our Candide-esque scholar, Dr. Moritz-Maria von Igenfeld (of the hedgehog), are a little less life-changing and devastating for those involved.

I enjoyed it for the most part, though I can’t claim to have actually laughed aloud, particularly. Perhaps my sense of humour is stunted. It was diverting, and interesting, and I’m not quite sure at what aspect of society McCall Smith was trying to poke fun.

Hm. It had it’s moments.

But now, onward.

Sort of whimsical and stupid, I can’t see what the fuss is about the author. Maybe “Number One Ladies Detective Agency” is a better book.