Intrusion in the age of KUWTK - III

a.k.a. the stuff Freespirit watches with the blinds drawn
a.k.a. a.k.a. Freespirit's shameful (?) secrets

The first conclusion from my experiment was that I love all writing by McCall Smith, especially 44 Scotland Street (possibly more than No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency).  Multiple observations, by way of my satisfaction after each book I read, led to my conclusion. My satisfaction could be traced to three reasons, none of which answered the purpose of the experiment but we'll get to that later. The three reasons first.

First, nostalgia. Growing up, Bots and I watched this cartoon called Hey Arnold! about a precocious pre-teen that lived with his grandparents in New York. Every time I read about Bertie, I imagine Hey Arnold in pink dungarees strolling in Scotland instead of Brooklyn.

Second, warmth. There is a great sense of humanity and shared experience in McCall Smith's writing, both of which I have always found lacking in Maupin (and KUWTK, of course). In Maupin's defense, that may not have been his primary purpose but there is enough family drama in Tales of the City to warrant love, familial, comfortable, comforting even. There is enough romance, as well, to warrant the passionate love of the movies but the reader never perceives either love. That may have been Maupin's primary purpose. TBD. Or it could just be non-American sensibilities, both by the author and the reader. Or the more relatable setting - present day Scotland vs. 1960's San Francisco. Reason notwithstanding, I felt connected to every single character on 44 Scotland Street and Corduroy Mansions, even the terrible ones. I rooted for all of them to develop, even Bertie's harlot of a mother, because there is a certain goodness, positivity and optimism that emanates from each chapter.

Third, primness. Over time, I have accepted that I am a prude. Accordingly, I very much prefer the non-graphical nature of sex captured in McCall Smith's writing compared to the tawdry details in Maupin's.

Finally. coming to the purpose of the experiment, or the most important of my conclusions. Yes, after a couple of books, I still felt like I was prying. Even though all characters bore no resemblance to real people. Even though all the books filled me with a sense of optimism and brotherly love. It was still intrusive.

But I didn't mind it. I felt like these books were easy conversations with friends and neighbors and family. Like talking to my parents' downstairs neighbor every Diwali when I take her sweets and she reminisces about being the substitute English teacher in the neighborhood schools in her time (she's probably 80 now). Or, as a child, listening to my maternal grandmother telling me about the office romance that led to my grandparents' happy marriage.

So there you have it, my shameful secret - I read serialized novels by Alexander McCall Smith. And I quite enjoy them.