John le Carré (1931–2020)

My sense is that Le Carre did a lot of traveling, presumably in Hong Kong and maybe also in Southeast Asia, and he wanted to cram in as much detail as a possible in this sprawling, convoluted novel. Thinking about his famous Karla creation dealing with the Sino-Soviet split is kind of intriguing, but unfortunately characterization suffers with all of the locales and plot turns. Namely, I could not buy Westerby's infatuation with Lizzie Worthington (who is not well developed either) which is a motive for his inexplicable actions.… (mais)

Smiley’s People is the final book in the Karla Trilogy by John le Carre recounting the ongoing duel of wits between George Smiley of the British Secret Service, the Circus, and his rival with the code name of Karla of the KGB, Moscow Centre. John le Carre in his Introduction from Cornwall in October 2000 reflects that his initial goal was to write this comprehensive group of books describing an epic standoff between the Smiley and Karla that would cover every corner of the globe telling the story of the Cold War in the setting of mutual espionage. However, for a lot of reasons the author decided that it was time to part with George Smiley. I must say that the conclusion to Smiley’s People took me by surprise but it truly was the perfect ending to this trilogy.

”For all these reasons then, ‘Smiley’s People’ was intended to be a requiem for the old spy, and to me that is what it remains. . . . The grand finale takes place in divided Berlin. . . . For his last act, Smiley would return there, and in his heart beg Karla not to leave the East. Smiley wins, Karla loses. But at what cost to both of them? Facing each other, they are the two no-men of no-man’s land. Karla has sacrificed his political faith, Smiley his humanity.”

Smiley’s People is the classic Cold War espionage novel. A Russian emigre is accosted on the streets of Paris by a Soviet intelligence officer as we slowly begin to learn more of her story when she seeks help from a well-placed contact, there is a young Estonian boy thrown into the world of espionage without the proper training as he attempts to be courier in Hamburg, and George Smiley is summoned in the dead of night in London to a grisly murder scene of a retired agent. He is briefed to bury the crime, not to solve it but Smiley becomes haunted by a cast of many ghosts from the past. There is mounting revelation and suspense as we race from Switzerland, Hamburg, Paris and Berlin. John le Carre is the master of espionage with his wealth of books. I am looking forward to reading the last two books in the Smiley’s People series.… (mais)

Although John le Carre is an excellent author of modern fiction he is also a fantastic letter writer. This 500+ page accumulation of many of his letters - to friends, family, fans and publishers - is one of the most enjoyable books I have read in recent years. It is also an amazing insight into his views and opinions of that so arduous a task as writing an excellent novel. And he has written a number of them. Having read all of his 20+ novels at least once I am quite sure they will be even more enjoyable reading the 2d and 3rd time after learning from these letters the agony, sweat and joy that went into writing them. Most of his works are novels about intelligence activities but they are just as much about the human condition and how individuals cope with the particularities of deception, mendacity and conflict which are the heart and soul of espionage as well as major attributes of life.… (mais)

I actually listened to this as an audiobook.

What surprised me on listening to this was the quality of the writing style and the characterisation. I was immediately captured by this description, early in the first chapter, of Jim Prideaux’s arrival as a temporary teacher at a boy’s boarding school (I imagine we’re talking about the 1960s, here):

"Jim Prideaux arrived on a Friday in a rainstorm. The rain rolled like gun-smoke down the brown combes of the Quantocks, then raced across the empty cricket fields into the sandstone of the crumbling facades. He arrived just after lunch, driving an old red Alvis and towing a second-hand caravan that had once been blue. Early afternoons at Thursgood’s are a tranquil time, a brief truce in the running fight of each school day. The boys are sent to rest in their dormitories, the staff sit in the common room over coffee reading newspapers or correcting boys’ work… Of the whole school therefore only little Bill Roach actually saw Jim arrive, saw the steam belching from the Alvis’ bonnet as it wheezed its way down the pitted drive, windscreen wipers going full pelt and the caravan shuddering through the puddles in pursuit… Roach decided later that [Jim] must have made a reconnaissance or studied maps. Even when he reached the yard he didn’t stop but drove straight on to the wet grass, travelling at speed to keep the momentum. Then over the hummock into the Dip, head first and out of sight. Roach half expected the caravan to jack-knife on the brink, Jim took it over so fast, but instead it just lifted its tail and disappeared like a giant rabbit into its hole."

This little scene tells us so much about Jim’s circumstances and character even though we haven’t met him yet, and so much about the young schoolboy Bill Roach, the watcher. It’s lovely writing, I think.

It’s a spy story, yes. But despite the intricacies of the Cold War plot it’s mostly a story about character. About Jim Prideaux, the ex-agent who has been terribly betrayed. About the quiet, unassuming George Smiley, with a razor sharp mind, patiently and secretly trying to identify who and what was behind that betrayal. About the cast of characters in charge of the Circus, London headquarters of the spy agency.… (mais)