Manners from heaven

Published on Saturday 28 July 2007 00:18

THE WORLD ACCORDING TO BERTIE

By ALEXANDER McCALL SMITH

Polygon, 368pp, 14.99

AT THIS YEAR'S HAY ON WYE BOOK Festival, within a day or two of Alexander McCall Smith speaking there, all the 44 Scotland Street novels had gone. I wanted to buy one for my hostess. There had been plenty, but now shelves at the festival bookshop were cleaned out, as was their store, while the many bookshops in the narrow streets of Hay held not a one. With that sort of popularity, who needs reviews?

I have heard McCall Smith talk about his unusual writing method, dreamily consulting his inner mind rather than planning cerebrally, and it seems his global popularity has come about in a similar way; a sort of virtual inevitability that makes enthusiasts talk and pass on the delights by word of mouth, like a bush-telegraph, whether in Botswana or Edinburgh.

The World According to Bertie keeps up the happy tradition of feelgood novels without ever descending into schmalz or self-indulgent sentiment; a valuable gift. Since the book deals with children, animals and small-town love affairs, that capacity is all the more amazing. I love the bits of meandering philosophy surrounding everyday events, redolent of a relaxed observing of the world to gather amusing anecdotes with which to regale friends later over a glass of wine.

The themes and the characters are those well-known to aficionados of the series, although Bertie, who is a great favourite with readers, does not feature disproportionately in spite of the title. Bertie's completely innocent observations about his baby brother resembling his mother's "friend" Dr Fairbairn lead to some hilarious situations, and it is entirely up to the reader to divine what, if anything, went on. This is the nearest the book ever gets to steamy sex.

Perhaps that is one clue to the author's success, that his writing is a refreshing antidote to today's raunchy reality-entertainment, shrieking for attention from page and screen. The measured pace is likewise good for our speed-trap souls, in a way that I once found Anthony Trollope tranquillising reading for life's pressured times.

McCall Smith combines the strengths of many classic authors, not the least being in his Austen moments. One of the best of those, for me, is the interplay between Domenica and Antonia in the 44 Scotland Street tenement. Antonia, who is beholden to Domenica, installs herself in the flat next door to her friend. Domenica feels her space is being invaded and needs to emphasise the boundaries of her territory. She subtly sets out the ground rules of the distance, real and metaphorical, to be maintained. Antonia is alert to the messages.

The polite negotiation is achieved without ruffled feathers by the precise amount of sherry on offer, and the warmth (or "coolth") of the welcome. Then there is the satirical treatment of Matthew's terrible dress-sense, his distressed oatmeal sweater and crushed-strawberry trousers, a symbol of the nice but nerdy man he is.

The merciless treatment of Irene, Bertie's mum, who ends up neglecting her children through her stern ambitions for them (a modern Mrs Jellyby, perhaps) borders on the misogynist, but, alas, one must admit her type is so recognisable. She is at least balanced by an egotistical male who gets his comeuppance. Besides his characters, the author has a delightful sense of memories embedded in place; Ann Street, the Flotterstone Inn, the Armenian Restaurant, all unique to this corner of the world. For an Edinburgh resident it's like a trawl through one's own diaries and it all adds to the fun.

And he shows generous freemasonry to his fellow-authors, giving Allan Massie, Ian Rankin, Irvine Welsh and others some polite oxygen of publicity as they are discussed by Domenica and friend over coffee and Italian biscuits at the Patisserie Florentin in North West Circus Place.

All issues are resolved at the end, and McCall Smith gives every hint that he is as eager to write more of this genteel soap as we are to read it. What if it is a make-believe never-never land where not a lot happens, most people are agreeable and don't have much to make them otherwise? That's what middle-class life in affluent pockets of Edinburgh is like, where many of us are so content that we lose touch with any temptation to be nasty.

• Alexander McCall Smith is at the Edinburgh International Book Festival on 12, 13 and 17 August.