ISABEL DALHOUSIE - Book 8
Nothing captures the charm of Edinburgh like the bestselling Isabel Dalhousie series of novels featuring the insatiably curious philosopher and woman detective. Whether investigating a case or a problem of philosophy, the indefatigable Isabel Dalhousie, one of fiction’s most richly developed amateur detectives, is always ready to pursue the answers to all of life’s questions, large and small.
In this eighth installment in Alexander McCall Smith’s captivating Isabel Dalhousie series, our irrepressible heroine tries to untangle complex questions about both the past and the present.
Isabel’s new friend Jane Cooper, a visiting Australian philosopher who was adopted as a small child, has come to Edinburgh searching for information about her biological father. Naturally, Isabel is more than happy to offer her services. At the same time, she must find time for her own concerns: her young son Charlie, who’s leaving babyhood further behind each day; her housekeeper Grace, who has recently begun getting financial advice from her spiritualist; her niece Cat, who’s in a new relationship, and the most pressing question of all: when and how Isabel and Jamie will finally get married. As she investigates the forgotten affairs of youth Isabel begins to wonder what those affairs lead to in the present, and in the process she discovers a whole new understanding of the meaning of family.
About the Author
Alexander McCall Smith is also the author of the beloved bestselling No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series, the Portuguese Irregular Verbs series, the 44 Scotland Street series, and the Corduroy Mansions series. He is also the author of numerous children’s books. He is professor emeritus of medical law at the University of Edinburgh and has served with many national and international organizations concerned with bioethics. He was born in what is now known as Zimbabwe and taught law at the University of Botswana. He lives in Scotland. Visit his website at www.alexandermccallsmith.com.
Date of Birth:August 24, 1948
Place of Birth:Zimbabwe
Read an Excerpt
By the time she got back to the house, having been interrupted on the way back by bumping into a garrulous neighbour, the morning was already almost over. For Isabel, the watershed was always eleven-thirty; that was the point at which if nothing was achieved, then nothing would be, the point at which one had to think about lunch, now just an hour away.
Since Charlie had started going to his playgroup, the mornings had become even shorter, as he had to be fetched shortly after noon, and it took ten minutes to get him back and another ten minutes to get him changed out of his morning clothes; by this time, he would be covered in finger paint, crumbs, pieces of a curious modelling substance much approved of by the playgroup authorities, grains of sand from the sandpit and, very occasionally, what looked like specks of blood. Boys, it seemed to Isabel, were magnets for dirt and detritus, and the only solution, if one were wanted, was frequent changes of clothing. Or one could throw up one’s hands and allow them to get dirtier through the day and then hose them down—metaphorically, of course—in the early evening.
Isabel opted to change Charlie, and so his morning clothes, once abandoned, were replaced with afternoon clothes. She decided that she rather liked the idea of having afternoon clothes, even if one were not a two-year-old. Changing into one’s afternoon clothes could become something of a ritual, rather like changing for dinner—which so few people did any more. And the afternoon clothes themselves could be the subject of deliberation and chosen with care; they would be more loose-fitting than one’s morning clothes, more autumnal in shade, perhaps—clothes that would reflect the lengthening of shadows and sit well with the subtle change in light that comes after three; russet clothes, comfortable linen, loose-fitting collars and sleeves.
It was Isabel’s housekeeper, Grace. She had worked in the house when Isabel’s father was still alive, and had been kept on by Isabel. It would have been impossible to ask Grace to leave—even if Isabel had wanted to do so; she came with the house and had naturally assumed that the house could not be run without her. Isabel had felt vaguely apologetic about having a housekeeper—it seemed such an extravagant, privileged thing to do, but a discussion with her friend, Peter Stevenson, had helped.
“What good would it do if you were to stop that particular item of expenditure?” Peter said. “All it would mean was that Grace would be out of a job. What would it achieve?”
“But I feel embarrassed,” said Isabel. “Somebody of my age doesn’t need a housekeeper. People will think I’m lazy.”
Peter was too perceptive to swallow that. “That’s not it, is it? What’s worrying you is that people will think that you’re well-off, which you are. So why not just accept it? You use your money generously—I know that. Carry on like that and forget what you imagine people think about you. It’s not an actual sin to have money. The sin exists in using it selfishly, which you don’t.”
“Oh well,” said Isabel.
Now Grace stood in the doorway of Isabel’s workroom, a bucket in hand, on her way to performing the daily chore of washing down the Victorian encaustic-tile floor in the entrance hall. Isabel was not sure that this floor had to be washed every day, but Grace had always done it and would have resisted any suggestion that she change her routine.
Now Grace’s question hung in the air. She often asked Isabel whether she was thinking; it was almost an accusation.
“I suppose I am thinking. But not about work, I must admit.” Isabel, who was seated at her desk, gave a despairing glance at the piles of paper before her. “I’m afraid that I’ve accomplished very little this morning.”
“Me too,” said Grace. “I’ve done none of the ironing yet, I’m afraid. All those shirts of Jamie’s.”
“Leave them,” said Isabel. “Jamie can iron them himself. It’s very therapeutic for men to iron. Therapeutic for women, that is.”
Grace shook her head. “I’ll do them later this afternoon.” She put down the bucket. “Where does the time go? Do you ever ask yourself that?”
“Constantly,” said Isabel. “As most people do.” She smiled. “Mind you, how much of our time, do you think, is spent asking ourselves where the time goes?”
Isabel remembered that it was a Friday, which meant that Grace would have spent the previous evening at one of her spiritualist meetings. She enjoyed hearing about these, as Grace was always prepared to give a candid assessment of the visiting medium. The previous week the visiting medium had been from Glasgow and had made contact with spirits who voiced an interesting, if somewhat unusual, complaint.
“He said that there were a number of spirits trying to get through. He said that that they were all from Glasgow.”
Isabel had raised an eyebrow. “Do spirits live in particular places? I thought that the whole point about being disembodied is that you rose above constraints of place. Have I got it wrong?”
Grace shook her head. “Spirits often hang about the places that were special to them before they crossed over,” she said. “He said that these spirits wanted to get back to Glasgow because they weren’t happy in Edinburgh.”
“A likely story!” snorted Isabel.
“My feelings too,” Grace had replied.
Now, Isabel asked about the previous evening. Was the medium any good, or at least better than the man who contacted the unhappy Glaswegian spirits?
“Much better,” said Grace. “He was one of our regulars. We had him about four months ago and he was really good. He saw somebody’s husband—clear as day, he said. I was sitting next to the woman and I comforted her. It was very moving.”
Isabel said nothing. The fundamental premises of Grace’s spiritualist meetings might not have withstood rigorous, rational examination, but there was little doubt in her mind about the solace that they gave. And what was wrong with anything that gave comfort to lives bereft of it?
“Yes,” Grace continued. “This medium—he’s called Mr. Barr; I don’t know his ﬁrst name, I’m afraid—he works in a bank. In the back room, I think; he’s not a teller or anything like that. Anyway, he has a real talent for getting through to the other side. You can see it in his eyes; he just has that look to him—you know what I mean?”
Isabel did. “The light—”
“Exactly,” said Grace. “It’s the light that shines from the eyes. There’s no mistaking it and he had it. It was like . . .” She searched for an analogy, and then decided, “Like a lighthouse.”
Isabel struggled with the image. Lighthouse eyes would presumably send forth beams at intervals, which would create a rather odd impression, she felt, especially at night, and if such people lived by the sea . . .
“He said something very interesting,” Grace continued. “He said that he was getting a strong message from somebody who had been a stockbroker in Edinburgh in his lifetime. He was now on the other shore and wanted us to know that everything would be all right.”
“That’s reassuring,” said Isabel.
“I think he was talking about the country’s economy. He said that we shouldn’t worry—it was going to be all right.”
Isabel raised an eyebrow. “I wonder how he knows?”
Grace assumed a rather superior expression. “They know,” she said. “We may not understand how they know, but the important thing is that they know. It’s to do with time. Time has a different meaning in the spirit world.”
Isabel did not contradict this; she knew there was little point. If asked to justify her claims about the world beyond, Grace tended to shelter behind the idea that there were some forms of knowledge that somebody like Isabel simply could not grasp.
“Skepticism closes the mind,” she would say. “Like a trap.”
Grace continued with her report. “He became quite specific, you know. He mentioned a particular company that he said would do well. He said that all the conditions were right for this to happen.”
Isabel expressed her surprise. “A tip? An investment tip?”
“No,” said Grace. “It was not like that at all. The spirit was just sharing something with us. He was obviously happy that this company would do well and he wanted us to share his happiness.”
Isabel hesitated for a moment. Grace’s meeting must have been rich in comic possibilities, with the medium issuing what amounted to a stock-market prediction, and some of those attending, perhaps, discreetly writing down the details.
“What company?” she asked on impulse.
“West of Scotland Turbines,” said Grace. “You’ll see their shares in the paper. Look at the stock-market page.”
“So they exist?”
“Yes, of course they exist. I looked them up. They make turbines for hydroelectric schemes.”
Grace appeared to feel that they had spent long enough on turbines and went on to say something about needing new scouring liquid for the upstairs shower, which was becoming mildewed. She looked at Isabel slightly reproachfully, as if she were responsible for the mildew. Isabel thought: It’s not my fault, but Grace will always blame me.
Then Grace said, “Oh, somebody phoned while you were out. I asked for her name, but she just left a number for you to call back. It’s in the basket. Some people don’t give their names, which is odd, I think. It’s as if they’ve got something to hide . . .” She examined Isabel as if she were conniving in, or at least condoning, a whole series of anonymous calls. Then she continued, “She sounded Australian.”
It was the woman whom Cat had met. Isabel glanced at her watch: there was time to return the call before she went off to collect Charlie. That would mean, of course, that she would have done no work at all that morning, and would probably do very little that afternoon. Did it matter? Would the world be changed if the next edition of the Review of Applied Ethics did not come out on time? The answer, of course, was that it would make very little difference—a humbling thought.
Isabel rose from her desk and made her way into the kitchen. If Grace wanted to leave her a note, there was a small basket on top of the fridge in which notes were placed. There was one now, with a number scribbled on it in pencil. Underneath the number, Grace had written: woman. Isabel smiled; she was reminded of her father, who had once said to her, “Don’t write—or say—any more than you have to. Just don’t.”
Or think, perhaps?
Isabel took the note back to her study. There she wrote on it West of Scotland Turbines, and then picked up the telephone.
Reading Group Guide
The questions, discussion topics, and suggested reading list that follow are intended to enhance your group’s conversation about The Forgotten Affairs of Youth, the latest episode in the adventures of Isabel Dalhousie.
1. Spoiler Alert: Do not read further if you want to discover the plot twists on your own.
Cat and Isabel talk about whether they find their occupations worthwhile. Isabel admits that she wonders about it all the time, and Cat says that she does not. “I sell cheese and Italian sausages...I don’t have time to think. Most people don’t. They do what they have to do because they need to eat” (24). How does this exchange point to the differences between aunt and niece? What does it suggest about their approaches to life?
2. Isabel and Jane have an immediate rapport: “Their conversation had started in the deep end, unlike most conversations, which launched themselves into the shallowest of shallows” (38). What experiences and ideas does Isabel share with Jane, although they have just met? Do you agree with Isabel’s statement about the need for a spiritual dimension in one’s life (40-41)?
3. Though he often feels that Isabel should stay out of other people’s troubles, Jamie feels strongly that she should help Jane find her father. Is Jamie becoming more tolerant, or is there something more than usually poignant about Jane’s situation?
4. As they lie in bed, Isabel and Jamie discuss Jane’s situation, and Isabel’s mind wanders, as it often does, on various “odd tangents” (45). He says to her, “You think these things—these curious things come into your mind—and then you just say them. I love it. Listening to you is like reading an amazing book” (56). Do you enjoy the digressions of Isabel’s thoughts as much as Jamie does? What does Jamie’s statement tell us about the kind of closeness and affection they share?
5. In her first conversation with Isabel, Catherine Succoth is guarded, though Isabel guesses at once the nature of her relationship with Alastair Rankeillor (93-101). What is the reason for the different mood of their second conversation? What experience do the two women share (239)?
6. As Isabel leaves the hospital after being sickened by eating wild mushrooms, she stops and speaks to a young man who has attempted suicide. If you were in his position, how would you feel about Isabel’s words with you (118-19)? Is it intrusive to speak to him, or is it an important act of kindness?
7. Cat’s new employee, Sinclair, is the sort of person Isabel can’t get along with. What is at the heart of their conflict when they work together in the store (129-135)? What does their interaction, and Isabel’s annoyance with him, tell us about Isabel’s ideals of human behavior?
8. Recalling a conversation with a friend who commented that in a country village people say good morning to strangers, Isabel thinks, “But we are not moral strangers to those we see in the street” (143). Do you agree with Isabel’s principle of “moral proximity”? How would life be different if most people thought about moral issues as Isabel does?
9. Visiting Rory Cameron’s village, Isabel passes by some cows poking their head through a gate. “‘I’m sorry, I have nothing for you,’ she muttered.” Then she thinks, “It’s come to this at last: I’m talking to cows” (161). How would you describe Isabel’s sense of humor? In what kinds of situations do you find comedy in this novel?
10. What is striking about Rory Cameron’s reaction to the news that he is a father? Why is it important for our understanding of the importance of this revelation that he is described as a disappointed man (170-73), a person “with an air of unhappiness about him” (159)?
11. Do you agree with the way Isabel handles the news that Grace has lost her savings by investing in West of Scotland Turbines (184)? Is she right in compensating Grace for her loss? What does Isabel’s remark, “Carry on being who you are,” tell us about the importance of their relationship (185)?
12. Isabel believes that Rory is not Jane’s biological father, and that Alastair Rankeillor probably is. Catherine Succoth had suggested that Rory was the person Jane was looking for, but she confirms Isabel’s hunch when they meet again and she apologizes for having been misleading (241). But now that Jane and Rory have struck up such a strong bond, Isabel doesn’t know how to proceed. What is the right thing for Isabel to do in this situation?
13. In The Careful Use of Compliments, Jamie proposed to Isabel and Isabel suggested that it was better to wait. What happens, or what changes, to convince Isabel that it’s time to marry Jamie? Why do Isabel and Jamie decide to have a very small wedding?
14. When they next meet, Jane admits that Georgina told her that Rory cannot be her father, because he’s infertile. Georgina hasn’t told him the truth about why they haven’t had children: “she decided to protect him from the psychological burden of the knowledge of his infertility” (251). Given that Rory is a sensitive and disappointed man, are Georgina and Jane right in protecting him from the knowledge that Jane isn’t his daughter?
15. Is Jane right in arguing that it’s the happiness gained, and not the authenticity of the relationship, that matters (251-54)? Why does Isabel then feel uncomfortable about the outcome?
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
As always Isabel and her cadre of characters kept me so happy and engrossed in their affairs. I only wish Alexander McCall Smith could possible write faster. I cannot get enough of this author. Charming, enlightening, and so easy to read.
This story immediately draws you in as it describes Isabel's life with her child, her fiance, her friends and family. It makes one stop and think about comments, thoughts and assumptions we each make about the people who are a part of our life and those who enter our life unexpectedly. Very enjoyable read!
This may not be Nobel Prize winning material but, in my view, it still deserves a full five stars for succeeding in being exactly what it aims to be: a gentle and comforting read that is nonetheless aware of the pitfalls that await even those living the most privileged of lives. Financially secure philosopher Isabel Dalhousie owns and edits and academic journal, when she is not losing time thinking too much or getting entangled in other people's business. In this installment of the series she assists a fellow philosopher who is seeking the identity of her natural father.
This is the eighth Isabel Dalhousie story. In a nutshell, Isabel and Jamie get married. --- This isn't exactly the right word, but for me personally, the most recent Isabel stories have become just a bit too "precious". Will I read the next one? Yes, because when Isabel's thoughts are interesting...they are very interesting. This book just didn't capture my imagination the way the earlier books did.
Smith's Dalhousie series centers on philosophical attitudes. Sometimes I feel that Isabel is a little snobbish and self-centered. In this caper, Isabel aids a woman in the search of her biological father. Isabel and Jamie finally marry. Isabel reports her niece, Cat, to Environmental Health department, which I feel is deplorable. Isabel is generous with her money, but seems snobbish in her handling of financial affairs. Isabel also jumps to quick assumptions on people, especially Cat's choice of men. Also, Isabel's obsessive behavior with her young son, Charlie, is humorous. The son eats olive and sardines and he is only 2.
Thank you to Pantheon for providing me with a copy of this book to review.I love the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series. Every spring I highly anticipate the new book in that series. While I love that series I just kind of really like the Sunday Philosophy Club, at least enough to keep reading each new entry. In this go around we find Isabel assisting a fellow visiting philosopher with investigating her family tree. As is often the case there is a tricky moral dilemma associated with this case and Isabel is left debating whether she did the correct thing. There are also some philosophical explorations of God and the meaning of living a spiritual life. Cat is as dismal and mean spirited as ever. I have lost patience with her and honestly can't see why Isabel keeps bothering with her. On the positive side Brother Fox has a son and a significant development is made in Isabel's personal life. You can count this in as another sweet and heart warming addition to the series.
Isabel Dalhousie looks at the world through the eyes of a philosopher. The publisher, editor and owner of the Review of Applied Ethics, she is continually weighing this and that, determining the proper, ethical behavior in a variety of situations. And readers are privy to the workings of her mind, thanks to an omniscient third-person narrator. In The Forgotten Affairs of Youth, Isabel agrees to help a woman her niece Cat, the owner of an Edinburgh coffee shop/deli, has befriended. Jane Cooper is a fellow-philosopher, Australian, and visiting the city to find out more about her deceased birth mother and, possibly, her father. Isabel¿s probing intellect is perfect for this type of sleuthing, and she has plenty of experience.When I read a mystery (and this series barely meets that definition), typically I prefer the author to keep on topic and on task. Give me the mystery, give me a detective, and give me a solution. The Isabel Dalhousie novels don¿t do that. The stories meander. But in this case, the author is easily forgiven: the stories are delightful and refreshingly unfocused, and Isabel is a wonderfully complex heroine. The relationship between Isabel and her much younger fiancé Jamie is ever present, but I¿m not put off, as I usually am, by the romantic elements in this series. I even like their toddler Charlie ¿ and I¿m not a huge fan of either kids or romance in my mysteries. But Charlie is proving to be an amazing little kid, an interesting blend of mom and dad. The Isabel Dalhousie novels are quiet, cozy and altogether engaging, a great get-away-from-it-all read.
Another little gem from Alexander McCall Smith... Excellent thinking, great writing...
Isabel Dalhousie is a thinker. McCall Smith's narrative, as in the #1 Ladies... is slow-moving to accommodate her deep thoughts and delightful tangents. Dalhousie's friends often ask her what she is smiling about, which is the amusing thoughts that occur to her. In this novel, she assists a new friend to trace her natural parents. Having visited Edinburgh once myself, I particularly appreciated the schematic map on the inside cover. It enables the reader to trace Isabel's movements around what she describes as a "spiky" city.
Isabel is back along with Jamie, Charlie and Grace. Charlie is now a toddler, beginning to talk and make his personality known to his parents. Meanwhile, a visiting philosopher from Australia, who was born in Scotland, enlists Isabel's help to find her birth father. There's the usual tension with Cat at the delicatessen. All in all, it's more of the usual in the life of Isabel Dalhousie, and it's charming as usual. If you like Isabel, then you will enjoy this book.
I am a huge fan of McCall Smith but this book left me a bit underwhelmed. The beginning and ends were great. But I felt that much of the book was taken up with Isabel philosophizing the most mundane of matters.
I am a big fan of Smith's No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series, and I had high hopes for this series as well, but it disappoints. By its very nature as a series there will be some repetition from book to book, but Smith expounds, at great length, on the same points in each and every book as if every reader is a new reader. I found myself skipping ahead, a lot, as I had lost patience with Isabel's same old agonizing over Cat's poor choices in men, her vapid fiance's youth and good looks, her gruff housekeeper's interest in the occult, the machinations of Dr. Lettuce, and her supernaturally well behaved toddler's love of savory foods. The subplots in this new installment are somewhat interesting, giving grist for Isabel's philosophizing mill, but not satisfying enough to flesh out a whole book.
Isabel deals with the question of what constitutes family.
Not sure if I still am enjoying this series.