Tag Archives: spy thriller

Thinking About Thinking #35 – A Nasty Piece of Work – Should old spies just stay home?

Here’s my book review of A Nasty Piece of Work: A Novel, a crime thriller by Robert Littell.

Littell has written sophisticated spy novels, including The Amateur. It would be glib to say A Nasty Piece of Work literally lives up to its title. It is a workmanlike, formula-gumshoe detective novel. The protagonist Lemuel Gunn is a worn-out, burned-out, world-weary intelligence operative. He’s retired to the desert. He gets dragged into a case and a buddied-up search by a beautiful young dame, Omelia Neppi.

The bad guys are unscrupulous and vicious, with mob ties embedded in the gambling racket. In the formula detective novel, the beautiful girl is trouble. In this case, our Omelia comes on like an ally, acting as an assistant investigator who knows where to find the crumb trail. Gunn eventually learns that she’s embroiled him in her plot to seek revenge on the perps.

The ending dishes out great gobs of graphic violence – justified Charles-Bronson style – because the guy by now has permission to give back as good as he and his client have gotten.

If you like pulp fiction – and a new idea that has withstood the test of time – go for it. Granted, authors of spy thrillers have had to rethink their missions since the Cold War, but this one in my opinion was a wrong turn for Mr. Littell.

What will you be inspired to do? Venturing to East Africa, Harry goes from being a passive observer as a tourist to an involved and committed resident. Two book awards (so far!) in 2021.

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.

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.