Alexander McCall Smith is best known for his No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series, of which I am a fan. He has another series featuring Isabel Dalhousie, a cultured and wealthy Scottish lady (and I use the term advisedly), which sounds far more like my usual preference than a genial African woman. So I began the first book in the Dalhousie series, The Sunday Philosophy Club, with great anticipation.Alas, my hopes foundered. It started off well enough; Isabel sees a man fall past her, from the top level of the concert hall to his death on the lowest level. Stricken, she cannot leave it alone, and soon discovered that he had an excellent head for heights, a happy and forward-looking disposition, and a reason to fear for his safety. Isabel reluctantly decides she has a moral obligation to solve the mystery of his death.With such a promising start, it wasn't until about halfway through the book that I realized I was getting bored to death. Isabel's penchant for philosophy results in an unfortunate tendency to ramble on about all manner of moral dilemmas or other philosophical ephemera. Sometimes this actually propels her to action, but not enough action to justify following her constant existential posturing.And another thing: there were far too many dead ends in the first half of the book. The police inspector, sporting a navy windbreaker and a forbidding expression, promised to be an excellent competitor or co-conspirator for the amateur Isabel, but his cameo was too brief. Likewise, the smarmy journalist threatened to create a world of trouble for our hapless heroine, but--he didn't. Instead, we become acquainted with Isabel's niece Cat, Cat's boyfriend Toby, Cat's ex Jamie, and Grace the maid. And Hen and Neil, who were the deceased's roommates. None of them are particularly interesting, and nothing much happened before I finally gave up and read the end. Which was quite a let-down, in keeping with the first half of the book.So I give McCall Smith points for consistency, but that's it. I cannot recommend The Sunday Philosophy Club. Just writing about it makes me sleepy.
I didn't think I would like this series as I found myself comparing Isabel to Precious (from the author's other series 'The Number 1 Ladies Detective Agency). The contrasts were obvious.Isabel Dalhousie is a very different heroine from Precious. Where Precious was a gentle simple soul Isabel is complex creature. Precious accepts life as it is and Isabel wonders why? As time went on I found myself growing fond of Isabel. She is just as fascinating a creature as Precious once you understand her.Once again the mysteries are not the focus. They are a side plot. The real story is that of Isabel, an educated middle aged woman living in Edinburg Scotland. We are given an intimate portrait of the city and of Isabel's life, her friends and her interests all the while the author delves into the 'philosophy' side of Isabella' mind. She wonders about everything in life and goes to great lengths to unravel the mysteries of human behavior. Some readers get bogged down at those points but I found they were basically the same questions I had been asking most of my life and it was interesting to read someone else's conclusions.One thing I liked was there was a BELIEVABLE story of a romance between an older woman and a much younger man. There was no angst or drama...it was simply the normal unfolding of a normal love story. It was refreshing to read.Once again I'm not going to review all the books in this series. I do not recommend them to everyone. These are cozies but cozies that make you think. They may or may not leave you with a warm fuzzy feeling.
Do You like book The Sunday Philosophy Club (2005)?
To be honest, I'd have to call this series a guilty pleasure. The plotlines don't always ring true to life, although I've never been a wealthy philosopher living in Scotland, with a major crush on my niece's ex-boyfriend, a bassoon player who's at least a decade younger than me. I'm not as intellectual as Isabel, or as nosy, but I happen to love anyone who ponders the bigger moral questions in life, and who loves a crossword puzzle and a cup of freshly brewed coffee. So there you have it. Although I wasn't as convincingly hooked on this series as other books by the same author, I couldn't put it down. The ending was a bit of a disappointment, but I was still eager for the next installment.
—Ellie
I had a hunch on how this book will be when I see the pictures of Alexander McCall Smith (a.k.a. yaşlı, tonton amca) and my hunch turned out right.*His style was not hilariously funny but it ensured a smile on my lips through most of the book. The story was not my-brain-is-on-fire clever but there was neither a bit of shallowness in it, and I liked it in general. I especially liked the ending. It gave me pleasure to guess that this tonton amca probably knew that anyone but the modest readers will hate its ending, but ignored those high-brow, grandeur-seekers and preserved his earnest, unpretentious style at the very end as well.But above all, I am truly impressed how his characters were so vibrant and alive. I immensely enjoyed to get to know all these very nice people: Isabel, Cat, Jamie, Grace etc.---* Alright, alright, I may also have been told that it is going to be a very enjoyable read by two reliable readers. I don't see how this undermines the fact that I am dead solid in my hunches.
—Selman
This is the dullest book I've read in a long time! I can hardly believe this is the same author who writes the lively Precious Romotswe novels. In the first place, the Sunday Philosophy Club never convenes; you never hear anything about the members. I'm hardly surprised, since the president is a professional philosopher (how much does that pay?) who never does anything. Independently wealty (and it's a good thing, I guess) she does cryptic crosswords (probably in ink), and there's a lot of unnecessary waffle about the clues and how clever she is at them. She walks into town to have coffee, she goes to the occasional concert or gallery...but not even watching someone fall from a great height to their death can distract her from her arcane moral "dilemmas" (ie matters that any thinking human being with an ounce of common sense is built to resolve without a second thought on the basis of a kindergartener's understanding of right and wrong). There is a tiny buildup of 2 possible baddies and a miniscule bit of tension...but it never comes to anything. The end gave me the impression that the author got bored with the book and just patched on an ending. I'm not surprised; I was bored long before the end, and only finished it to see if something might eventually happen.If this had been the first of Alexander McCall's books I'd ever picked up, I would never have bothered to read anything else with his name on it. I know he is a member of several committees on bioethics, but this reads like a laboured effort to turn every aspect of his life into money on the book market.I gave it one star because that is the lowest rating available. Honest opinion? Nought point five out of twenty.
—Orinoco Womble (tidy bag and all)
