I have read all these books several times, the first would be in the late 50's when I was a young teenager. Goodness, what page turners they all were. What places I've visited and re-visited in my impatination (and in reality). I've read all these stories subsequently when wanting a bit of harmless escapism to what seems, to this now older white middle class post-war Anglo-Saxon, as a far simpler world. My parents and their cohort had fought WW2 on my behalf, my grandparents WW1 - I had no worries in this regard. Richard Hannay is the protagonist in each book, along with his friends, who take part in his adventures. Hannay, Scotsman first, mining engineer in S. Africa, major-general WW1, and then man of property in rural Oxforshire. A true "whiteman". First of course, and most famously, is the "Thirty Nine Steps", made even more famous by Alfred Hitchcock's unbeatable film version, but all five volumes provide similar "Boy's Own" entertainment. One recurring theme of all these books is Buchan's obvious love for the English and Scottish countryside, for nature, but similar rapturous prose is related to South Africa and the "Norlands" (presumably the Faroes?) in Greenmantle and The Island of Sheep, respectively. As a hunter, shooter, fisher, not a stretch of water passes by Hannay's gaze but with an eye to what fish might be landed from it or what wide and craggy moorland but with a thought to the deer or grouse hiding in the braes and the heather. .
There is a plentiful supply of villainy and violence which our hero and his friends have to deal with. I really don't know what the younger reader would make of these books nowadays. Our wokish sensibilities might run counter to the jingoism of these books and in particular some degree of racism and possible anti-semitism, though perhaps more fairly described as a reflection of the simple Anglo-Saxon superiority of those times, which unfortunately still runs pretty deep, as we run a murderous proxy war in Ukraine and talk belligerently to China.
John Buchan was actually more than just a teller of yarns, he was a very good writer, his stories are adventures told in the first person, and depend on the devices all such stories make use of - coincidence and luck, in spadefuls. But who cares? He was in the same literary space as Rider Haggard used to be, and subsequently a beacon for such as Hammond Innes and Alistair McLean. In the evening, put on your slippers, seat yourself in an old leather high-back arm chair next the bookcase, with a standard lamp behind you, and an occasional table with your mug of beer or tumbler of malt whisky, and and immerse yourself in Buchan's romances of daring-do, and the hours will pass quickly and you'll find you're looking at your old wind-up watch and it's already well past midnight.......