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This is the seventh book in the well-beloved series from the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. It carries on where the sixth left off; but before I get into that, let me tell a little about the series in general, just in case you haven’t had the pleasure of their acquaintance. I was staying in London last February with a friend from New Zealand, and she pushed the first book into my hands and said, “Here, you’ll love this.” I did. At first I thought it was because we had both been to Africa and could relate to the atmosphere Smith describes so well. However, I later gave it to my mother, saying, “Read this,” and although she has never set foot on the continent of jungles and deserts, she proceeded to read all six books within two weeks. So it can’t be because of that. Blue Shoes and Happiness is no exception to all of this. The humour goes deeper, the wisdom is stronger, and the problems are solved in the same quiet manner – a case of canteen blackmail, a man who is terrified of feminists, and much philosophising on whether one should be well-built or not. I would never have imagined that a lady detective in Botswana could be such a brilliant foundation for a story. The goodness of her character, her wisdom, experience, and understanding of human nature, her comforting motherliness and respect for old-fashioned morals are intrinsically attractive and incredibly enjoyable. Love for Africa shines in every page, even as Mama Ramotswe and her intrepid assistants deal with misbehaving husbands, insurance frauds, revival preachers, fake doctors, snakes and crocodiles, to name but a few. By the way, it really is the custom to call ladies “Mama” in Africa, even if they don’t have any children. It happened to me, too. It’s really lovely how the grass-roots wisdom leaks into every scene, and how we get to look inside people’s thoughts, distractions and worries. Many of the “mysteries” are solved merely by the gentle force of Mama’s personality. It’s a pleasure to watch her own love story unfold matter-of-factly around the African cityscape, although by now she has been married for a while – perhaps that's the best time for romance after all. I became somehow familiar with Gaborone and felt as if I was returning home each time I picked up the book and began to read of people like Precious and Happy and Motholeli and Phuti. The stories are full of majestic moments in everyday life, when people pause to look out to the low hills or the empty sky, to sit under a tree and drink a cup of tea, to help each other out of the goodness of their hearts. It is all so simply told that a sudden dramatic word can bring tears to your eyes – just like life itself. I find it very surprising that a Scottish gentleman can write like this – from the heart of an African woman, who often makes profound statements about the helplessness of men in general, though she is quick to agree that they are certainly good to have around at times. Blue Shoes and Happiness will no doubt join the other six on the list of my all-time favourite books – and I shall return often to its pages for a breath of fresh air from Africa. Reviewed by Grace
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The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Book 7: Blue Shoes and Happiness
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