The Quiet Side of Passion, by Alexander McCall Smith

Alexander McCall Smith is always an inspiration. As well as many gentle jokes, each book contains something that shows his finger remains on the pulse of the times. Not to mention an inevitable surprise or two.

After responding to a summons from the incorrigibly pompous Professor Lettuce, Isabel meets a philosophy student and they get into a conversation about the removal of historic statues. This timely and intriguing topic relates to the recent removal of the Sir John A. Macdonald statue in Victoria and the heated public discussion that ensued. As usual, Isabel thinks deeply about various aspects of this thorny question, and opines that although letting a statue stand "says that at a particular time... somebody was admired sufficiently for a statue to to be erected," it gives no indication of how people feel about that person now.

Unwilling to risk quick and sloppy conclusions, she also points out that "You couldn't have a statue of Hitler in Berlin with a footnote at the bottom saying he was responsible for millions of deaths." As a virtual reader of the fictional Applied Review of Ethics that Isabel edits, I look forward to her proposed issue "on the taking down of statues."

I admire Isabel for her awareness of her privileged existence in "a parallel universe to that occupied by most of humanity...insulated from the economic realities that made life a struggle," while she enjoys "editing the philosophical observations of others" and a marriage full of "happiness and contentment." She has always imagined "The printed word, thousands upon thousands of printed words" that occupy her study have "kept it safe...from the enemies of reason." In this book, a surprising event (caused, as always by Isabel's powerful impulse to interfere) causes her to doubt this old belief.

I was fascinated by her interaction with Cat's latest lover. Isabel soon finds she has more in common with Leo than she first assumed. Cat likes boyfriends who are built, "not merely thrown together," and Leo is an attractively physical man. Yet Isabel soon discovers there is more to him than brawn and leonine good looks; they share the important knowledge that "you can't set everything right in this life." She even comes to admire Leo; while she only agonized, he took action to resolve a sticky situation. After another bout of thinking, she concludes that violence, when "wielded righteously," can sometimes act as a "disinfectant."

In a lighter vein, I got a great kick out of the idea that while people might "pursue their androgynous agenda with intimidating ruthlessness...men and women were different," which reminded me of a long-ago blog post I wrote here.

Other delightful lines included "crimes against musicality," and the mistranslated idiom "blue with envy," which in turn evokes the image "ochre with rage."

This author's books never fail to contain some observations of philosophical consolation in the face of life's difficulties. This time, he has Isabel raise the proposition that "love and compassion are the only balm" for what goes wrong in our individual and communal lives. We can remember and act and console ourselves with this simple idea, when inevitably and "irrespective of our intentions," the unexpected arises once more to challenge us.

Isabel also concludes, rightly and consolingly, that "one of the skills one had to develop in life was the ability to distinguish true absurdity from reality, which was not as easy as one might think."