Tag Archives: john le carre

Book Review: Silverview by John le Carré

Silverview is the last novel John le Carré (David Cornwell) completed before his death in December of 2020. It was just released in the US by Viking Penguin. The hardcover edition includes an Afterword by the author’s son Nick Cornwell, who is a writer himself using the name Nick Harkaway.

Silverview, the last spy novel by John Le Carré (Viking Penguin)

As my friends and fans know, I’m a longtime admirer of le Carré, and I believe that, to rate him as “The premier spy novelist of our time. Perhaps of all time” (Time), is an underestimation. In his novels, the spy story is a metaphor and a model for not only the geopolitical strife between nations but also the loyalties and betrayals between human beings – in their most intimate and personal transactions. I’d say William Boyd’s comment in The New Statesman comes closer: “We should see him as our contemporary Dickens.”

Two recurring themes in le Carré are that humans almost always betray their loved ones, and skilled spies (like readers) must be obsessively attentive close observers. By strewing hints, clues, and foreshadowing in narratives rich in dazzling but often extraneous detail, he teaches you not only how spies think but also how to read with critical intelligence, especially between the lines.

I’ll risk asserting that fans of le Carré will find nothing new in Silverview. But consider this a feature and not a flaw. If you’ve read and paid close attention to his other novels, you will be quick to recognize the suspicious cover stories, the simple and seemingly innocent methods of exchanging word codes and documents, and – at the core of all of it – the ways double agents double back on their professed loyalties, at the same time serving and betraying their countries, while twisting their personal lives and loves inside out.

As I say, recognizing these plot elements on first appearance may give you the satisfaction that you’ve aced the course at Sarratt, the Circus spy academy. Perhaps then you are ready to recognize, face up to, and deal with the loyalties and betrayals in your own life. I guarantee you will pay closer attention to what other authors are trying to express.

All this said, it will come as no surprise that I respectfully disagree with Nick Cornwell’s assessment of this book:

“… Silverview does something that no other le Carré novel ever has. It shows a service fragmented: filled with its own political factions, not always kind to those it should cherish, not always very effective or alert, and ultimately not sure, any more, that it can justify itself.”

I beg to differ. The close observer knows that John le Carré has been saying this all along.

Evan Wycliff mystery-thrillers have won five awards including both Gold and Silver in the NYC Big Book awards. The audiobook for the first in the series is available from Audible, iTunes, Google Play, and other distributors worldwide.

Thinking About Thinking #27 – A Delicate Truth – The Reader As Close Observer

In telling stories about spies as close observers, John Le Carré taught me how to read – more closely.

Le Carré’s spy novel A Delicate Truth is the behind-the-scenes story of a small anti-terrorist black op  – secretly sponsored by a Member of Parliament – that might or might not have happened. Problem is, its very existence – even as a plan – is so politically incorrect as to be a profound embarrassment if anyone involved decides to break silence and go public with the few facts they know. So the trendy topic of whistle-blowing is very much at issue.

I find two things remarkable about this novel.

First, the dialogue is almost entirely and deliberately off-point – more than in any other Le Carré book I’ve read. The words are about everything but the topic at hand. Everyone speaks, not just in trade jargon and code, but in hints and innuendo and metaphors. It’s annoying. And real. And perhaps an angry commentary on a societal lack of not only frankness and honesty but also an unwillingness to face any real facts at all.

They might be discussing murder, but all you hear are acronyms.

Second, you won’t have a clear idea of who the main character is until fairly far along. He will grow on you, as he will become bolder in his own estimation of himself. But he’s a bureaucrat (as are most of the rest of them) and in many respects lackluster. Totally absent are the mythic proportions of James Bond. And he has nothing like the cunning wit or the cleverness of George Smiley.

He does, however, eventually realize he has a conscience and a loyalty to ideals that are both naive and reckless.

Master spy novelist Le Carré often refers to intelligence operatives as close observers. Of course, that’s just what a reader is. His narrative technique is to immerse you in detail, much of which may be irrelevant to the plot – just the way we experience reality every day, from one perception to the next.

In training you to think like a spy – like a close observer – Le Carré makes you a better reader and a more critical thinker.

A Delicate Truth is very much about today. And there is much to learn, if in those cryptic conversations you also learn to listen between the lines.

Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner – Intrigue on the white sands of East Africa for fans of Graham Greene and John Le Carré.

Douglas Coleman Interviews Gerald on Trends in Publishing

Douglas Coleman hosts Gerald in a full and frank exchange of views – thinking about thinking about books!

In this new 15-minute episode of The Douglas Coleman Show VE (here on YouTube), Douglas and Gerald speculate about trends and recent changes in the publishing industry, along with how readers might want authors to approach their work to set it apart from 8 million other Kindle titles.

Gerald also tells how taking up residence in East Africa for two years motivated him to write his new award-winning novel Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner.

 NABE 2021 Best (and only) in Literary Fiction

Preorder for June 29, 2021 release.

Thinking About Thinking #11: A Small Town in Germany – Historical fiction is all about today

Here’s my book review of A Small Town in Germany by John le Carré. Written decades ago by the recently deceased author, its plot has chilling parallels to today’s news.

A Small Town in Germany is one of le Carré’s first novels, written not long after he left the employ of the British Foreign Service in 1964. One of his first postings was in Bonn, the postwar capital city of West Germany, and the small town of the title. In the past, I’ve been effusive in my praise for le Carré’s writing style. My one criticism of this book is its occasionally strained efforts at poetic imagery. At times in his later career, the novelist’s prose has been to spare. But in this early work, he’s reaching for colorful analogies. The results too often come across as overwritten:

No dawn is ever wholly ominous. The earth is too much its own master; the cries, the colors, and the sense too confident to sustain our grim foreboding.

The fictional premise is that Dr. Klaus Karfeld, a crowd-pleasing politician, is rising to power on a wave of renewed German nationalism. A younger generation resents economic malaise and their parents’ having lost the war. Karfeld promises to break off ties with the Common Market, predecessor of the European Union, and pursue a new alliance with Russia.

The principal characters in the story are diplomats stationed at the British embassy, who are bewildered and threatened by the impending power shifts, including possible retaliation against the English occupiers. Most worrisome to these Brits, one of their employees, Leo Harting, a Polish-born German, has gone missing. Apparently, he took some secret files. They worry that the information in these files might not only embarrass the Queen’s government, but also help Karfeld in his rise to power and repudiation of NATO.

Welshman Alan Turner, an undercover operative, is summoned on an official mission to find the missing man and the stolen files. Turner has all the skills, along with the surly and irreverent personality of the classic noir detective. (As far as I know, he doesn’t reappear in any of the other le Carré novels.)

Turner runs afoul of almost everyone at the embassy, especially when he learns that, far from being a spy, Harting was hunting war criminals. He had uncovered Karfeld’s secret past as a Nazi scientist. Turner’s job changes from searching for a presumed defector to trying to prevent Karfeld’s goons from finding and then killing Harting.

The cynical Turner begins to realize that the Brits want the missing files, but not the man who took them. And most disturbing of all, they don’t want Karfeld’s crimes dredged up, even if it means Harting’s death. The Karfeld movement has gained too much popularity. The pragmatic diplomats are apparently ready to embrace the election’s expected winner even though they know he once supervised a laboratory that tested the homicidal effects of poison gas.

It was a coincidence that I picked this book up again recently. Perhaps you’ve guessed by now why I think this story resonates with today’s headlines.

In Clifford’s Spiral a stroke survivor tries to piece together the fragments of his memories. Was he the victim or the perpetrator? 2020 IPA Distinguished Favorite in Literary Fiction.