A welcome return to form

My reservations about the series that propelled Alexander McCall Smith, author of some 50 obscure books before he hit upon the No 1 Ladies Detective Agency, have been growing with the last two books.

Like thousands of readers across the world, Precious Ramotswe, the "traditionally built" lady who sold the cows she inherited from her father in order to start up a detective agency in Botswana, initially struck a chord.

She offered a rare literary treat, a return to an Eden of reading "" at least for a while. By the time I read numbers three and four in the series, I'd gone off McCall Smith. What had initially been charming had acquired the stale feel of formula; the touches of humour, Africa-style, that had appeared novel now seemed condescending; and especially with The Kalahari Typing School For Men it seemed that McCall Smith's interest had diminished in tandem with the reader's waning attention span.

I didn't intend to buy number five in the series, The Full Cupboard of Life, but even the most curmudgeonly reader can fall prey to the need to see a difficult project through. There is nothing worse than discovering that an author has created paradise and then having to wade through tarnished versions of that first literary glimpse of heaven.

Given that I approached the fifth volume in Precious Ramotswe's story with the reluctant scepticism of a paid-up believer who reverted to atheism after discovering her god's clay feet, it may be appropriate to sound the hosannas long and early. The Full Cupboard of Life contains everything that had been absent from the last two books in the series; it is a quiet return to form.

Perhaps this is because the focus is firmly on Precious Ramotswe herself, with the other characters making regular appearances, but not stealing the limelight. Mma Ramotswe's engagement to Mr J L B Matekoni is satisfying, but her fiance's reluctance to set a date for the wedding is troublesome.

"I was wondering whether we would ever get married," Mma Ramotswe expostulates gently, "or whether we would continue to be engaged people for the rest of our lives. I was just wondering, that's all." But Mr Matekoni has cold feet; he's been a bachelor too long, and he is a man who prefers to reflect on matters rather than take decisions.

Besides, Mma Potokwane, who runs the local orphanage, has plans for him: she wants him to do a sponsored parachute jump in order to raise funds for her orphans, and since Mr Matekoni has unfortunately proved his courage beyond doubt by chasing away a green and poisonous snake, he cannot refuse. Nor is he up to the task of saying no to the formidable Mma Potokwane, so instead he is "trying "" and largely succeeding "" not to think of parachutes or aeroplanes, or even the sky".

He has other problems, too: his assistants at the garage he runs, the well-known Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors, will never understand cars the way he does. They are impressed with "the externals, the outside trim designed to impress those who had no knowledge of cars". "For the real mechanic, mechanical beauty lay in the accuracy and intricacy of the thousand moving pieces within the breast of the car: the rods, the cogs, the pistons."

This is a key passage, if you want to understand the moral framework of McCall Smith's series. When Mr Matekoni discovers that a swanky and well-respected garage has been stealing parts and maltreating cars, his outrage is shared by Precious Ramotswe: to both of them, this is not a question of bad business practices but of immorality and dishonour.

What we're returned to in The Full Cupboard of Life is a world via Bostwana that we can be wistful about, that already commands nostalgia. The signs of change coming into this corner of Africa are not good.

Even as Precious Ramotswe admires the dignity that Botswana clings to in times of drought and famine, she mourns the passing of a time when old-fashioned values "" respect for one's elders, the old forms of courtesy and not least of all, an appreciation of the bounty offered by a traditionally-built woman as opposed to the new, slender, stick-thin woman beginning to beguile Africa "" were the backbone of the country.

There is relatively little about Precious Ramotswe's right hand in the business, Mma Makutsi: she is contemplating writing the next bestseller (How to Get Ninety-Seven Percent) and she makes a few cameo appearances, but McCall Smith focuses on his two main protagonists, giving this book more of a centre than the previous two.

If Mr Matekoni has to contend with amoral fellow mechanics, Precious Ramotswe must sift through the four suitors who may be interested in a traditionally-built and talented hairdresser's considerable bank balance rather than her equally considerable assets. There is the matter of the parachute jump and how to pull Mr Matekoni back from the edge. And there is the question of whether

Precious Ramotswe will be doomed to the equivocal status of the fiancee for the rest of her life.

When McCall Smith's in form, he conjures up an Africa that may or may not be real, but that offers an escape from the equally unreal headlines ("Aids, coups, civil war") that sum up Africa for most outsiders. His version of Botswana, spread out perhaps a trifle too thin over five volumes, is not unlike one of Mr Matekoni's beloved cars.

It may run on a borrowed engine that dates back to colonial times, but what makes it tick is a complex assembly of lovingly cared for parts that need only a bit of ingenuity to make them work as a complete whole. If he does produce volume six, I might be tempted to return to Precious Ramotswe's world the way one returns to an old, sometimes mildly boring but always rewarding, friendship.

THE FULL CUPBOARD OF LIFE

Alexander McCall Smith
Pantheon Books
Pages: 198,
Price:$10