44 Scotland Street Gets A Kick (Espresso Tales)

Well, it looks as though the commute is doing its job because suddenly I am falling behind in my blogging, as opposed to my reading. I've finished two books in the past week and, thus far, haven't found time to write about them. Therefore there might be a kind of double feature thing going on here.. that is, if I don't fall asleep first (hey, I have to get up early!).

I know I said I would try to wait to read Alexander McCall Smith's Espresso Tales until a trip to Edinburgh was on the horizon. But with a new job and no holiday time in sight, as well as a fairly depleted bank balance, I decided to take the plunge.

To give the author his due, when I saw the novel sitting in WH Smith, I really couldn't resist buying it. I've compared McCall Smith to J.K. Rowling previously, and the way I felt when I saw Espresso Tales can only be related to the way I feel when I catch sight of the new Harry Potter on the shelves--I felt like I was getting my friends back (yup, pretty pathetic).

Anyway, it was great to see what Pat, Bruce and the gang from 44 Scotland Street were up to. As well as the old favourites, McCall Smith introduced some new characters--namely a nudist love interest for Pat, and a Glasgow con artist whom child prodigy Bertie beats at cards.

Although I enjoyed the book and will undoubtedly read the third (and most likely last, according to McCall Smith) installment to The Scotsman serialisation, I felt that the novel was missing something. The plot antics seemed too desperate and exaggerated, and there were some characters (i.e. Ramsey Dunbarton) I could've done without knowing more about.

Nonetheless, there were parts of the book that were absolutely laugh-out-loud funny, and the characterisation was, as always, flawless. Sitting on the Tube in the baking heat, there really is no better place than 44 Scotland Street.

The All-Seeing Assassin (The Blind Assassin)

I have been very slow with my reading over the past few weeks. The weather is scorching, and I'm afraid I've been numbing my mind in front of the TV more than usual. But my new temp job near Tower Bridge (and the hideously long commute) has whipped me back into shape. In fact, the scenic Bridget Jones-esque walk down the South Bank in the mornings has put me in a more literary frame of mind. And like Bridget, I realise my lack of reading is 'v. bad, must try harder.'

The Blind Assassin is Margaret Atwood's tenth novel. Its epic proportions encompass the whole of the twentieth century, exploring the mysterious death of Laura Chase whose risque novel The Blind Assassin was published posthumously. It is told from the retrospective point of view of Laura's now elderly sister Iris who is trying to come to terms with her own life, as well as her sister's death.

Atwood, as always, is genius and the plot never falters. This novel is an amazing achievement of research and historical accuracy. The reader accompanies Iris on the maiden voyage of the Queen Mary, attends lavish costume parties with her in the 1930's, gains an understanding of rationing and the effect of the Second World War and, most importantly, escorts the protagonist through the most confusing and unreal period of all: the present.

Although lengthy, the novel never loses momentum and the main narrative is broken up nicely with excerpts from Laura's novel as well as newspaper articles, press clippings, obituaries, etc. from different events and eras.

The Blind Assassin explores the theme of love in a completely omniscient, all-seeing way, and Atwood is anything but blind in terms of her ability to present this emotion. She also has the ability to clarify the theme of death, whilst at the same time, celebrating life. This is a wonderful example of an epic 'set against panoramic backdrop' that manages stays true to a poignant story without losing its place in history.