Ian McEwan never fails to write beautifully and hauntingly, whatever the subject matter. That gift is particularly, perhaps perversely, stunning when he writes about horrifying things. However, he writes here about a type of horror, as experienced by one of the main protagonists, that is bewildering and unbelievable in its intensity. In turn, the outcomes and consequences of that horrified reaction do not seem believable, either. For such a slim set piece, I found this a tedious read.

This amiable book is made gently subversive by the fact that lady detective Mma Precious Ramotswe takes on what is considered a rather non-traditional role for a woman in Botswana. The book is an easy and charming read, and refreshingly non-formulaic for the detective/mystery genre. Maybe part of its gentle subversiveness is that the mysteries are not really the point, or maybe the real mystery is the human behaviour and nature behind each crime that Mms Ramotswe investigates.

“A Minor Planet for You” is Greentree’s first foray into the short story form after two accomplished collections of poetry. As it is in her poetry, witty, feisty dialogue is one of Greentree’s strengths. She zeroes in on relationships gone askew, and somehow manages to balance tenderly both the humour and the pain or embarrassment of people’s failures to connect and communicate.

This wistful snippet from the title story is a favourite:

When I get home from work, there’s a note on the table. Brian’s out looking for an asteroid belt tonight, and won’t be back until late. I throw my coat over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and phone my sister, Tanya. When I start complaining about the whole minor planet bullshit plan, she interrupts me.

“Maggie, I think that sounds so romantic. Don’t you think it’s a wonderful gesture, having your husband want to discover a planet for you?”

“I think it would be more romantic for him to stay home with me once in a while,” I say. “Maybe even talk to me.”

I would take this book and concept with a grain or two of salt, because not everything it espouses is for everyone, and I found not all of it completely rang true with me. That said, the very first book in the series by Julia Cameron has something to offer just about anyone who is looking to cultivate their creativity, not just in writing per se, but using writing as largely the outlet and mode of expression. Even if you only take one practice or exercise away from it (the daily writing routine is a good one, and one I’ve personally kept up for close to 12 years now), it’s worth it.

This is the 63rd of a series of titles selected by writer Yann Martel to provide to Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper, to encourage an appreciation of the arts and literature in particular in the PM, and to also help him (Harper, that is) with his stillness and thoughtfulness. Martel has regularly sent books from a wide range of literary traditions to Harper. Martel has devoted a Web site to the reading list and his kind and considered covering letters with each volume. (All of his letters can be read at http://www.whatisstephenharperreading.ca/.) Martel’s thoughtful persistence in this quest, started in April 2007, is both heartwrenching and highly commendable. He has never received a direct acknowledgement from Harper, and only recently some fairly form-letter responses from Harper’s staff. He has, however, received a response (although not directly related to one of his book selections for Harper) from Industry Minister Tony Clement.

Will this quirky, challenging literary novel by the always intriguing and stylistically shape-shifting Barnes finally inspire Harper, to take up Martel’s recommendation, to read, to respond? We shall see.