Encountering Alexander McCall Smith
Alexander McCall Smith, the amazingly accomplished and wonderfully witty writer featured at this year’s Key West Literary Seminar, attended a packed reception at David Wolkowsky’s rooftop aerie overlooking Duval Street on Friday night.
Alexander (“call me Sandy,” he insisted) McCall Smith (that’s his surname, McCall is not his middle name) was born in Bulawayo in what is now known as Zimbabwe.
After attending school there, where his father was a public prosecutor of what was then a British colony, he moved to Scotland where he earned a PhD at the University of Edinburgh and became a well-known expert on medical law and bioethics.
He is better known these days as the author of, among many of other books, “The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency” series, set in Botswana and translated into 45 languages with 20 million copies sold worldwide. It has also been filmed by HBO.
Sandy McCall Smith lives in Edinburgh, Scotland, with his wife, a doctor, and their two daughters. And he is thrilled to be in Key West, where he’s staying at a home near Hidden Beach on the Atlantic.
One of the first guests he met at Wolkowsky’s was local novelist and poet Rosalind Brackenbury, who has lived in Scotland and visits Edinburgh often. The two writers delighted in discussing the borderlands where Brackenbury’s daughter lives, near the sheep that sit atop stacks of rock by Kelso, “happy as they can be because they know no other life,” mused Sandy.
My wife Jan tells me that among her favorite books by McCall Smith are those in the Isabel Dalhousie series, for Isabel’s intellectual skills, her young lover and the fox in the yard. Sandy took particular joy in this. “They’re my favorite, too!” he said.
There was no shortage of other topics to discuss with this writer, given the variety of books he has written and his genius for giving them strangely alluring titles such as “Portuguese Irregular Verbs,” “What W. H. Auden Can Do for You,” “The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs” plus the hilarious “Confessions of a Serial Novelist.”
And, of course, there was no shortage of people for him to meet Friday night.
Which brings us, for the second time in my life, to the Jimmy Buffett moment.
I had heard that Jimmy was in the crowd and so asked Sandy if he’d like to meet him. He wasn’t certain he recognized the name but, when I explained “Cheeseburger in Paradise” to him, he was all for it.
But Jimmy had just left the building!
I scampered to the elevator and waited maddeningly long to get down to street level and dashed over to the corner of Fleming and Duval, catching sight of Jimmy in the mod of pedestrians (looking great, by the way). I explained the situation but he was all apologies. “I have to meet my obligations,” he said. “I swore I’d be somewhere at 10. Give McCall Smith my greetings and best wishes.” “Will do,” I said and dashed back to the elevator. On the way back up, I had time to ponder the wonder of how this has occurred before.
A few years ago, I found myself strolling down Duval Street in the company of Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the San Francisco beat poet, and when we passed by Margaritaville I happened to notice Jimmy at the far end of the bar. I ran up to him and said that Ferlinghetti was just outside. “No, he’s not,” said Jimmy as he swiveled from view. “I don’t believe you.” So the author of “A Pirate Looks at Forty” never did to get to meet the author of “A Coney Island of the Mind.”
Now I return to the rooftop to find McCall Smith having a good time and he tells me he’d like to meet the rock star at another time. “What I really want to know,” he added, “is the name of the poet that wrote a famous great poem about Key West.”
“Wallace Stevens,” I declared. “The Idea of Order in Key West!”
“Yes!”
It was then that the last lines of the poem’s last but one verse came to mind and set the mood for the whole delightful evening with Alexander McCall Smith:
“Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.”
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As always a pleasure to read what’s on your mind. I love this little island city! Thank you to all the brilliant and generous people that keep that love alive. Anna and I met Mr. Smith, as well, and he is that rare blend of genius and humility, only enhanced by a masterful sense of humor. Sorry, Jimmy, you missed out…I hope he visits us again.
Thank you Mark
I just discovered Konk Life on line! I still like to hold a paper in my hands but the layout is so nice and easy on the eyes….I may convert..
Excellent article especially since I am re-reading ‘Blue Shoes and Happiness’ by ‘Sandy’. The literary folk in this town certainly know how to have a good time!