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George Smiley #4
The Looking Glass War
John le Carré's classic novels deftly navigate readers through the intricate shadow worlds of international espionage with unsurpassed skill and knowledge, and have earned him unprecedented worldwide acclaim. THE LOOKING GLASS WAR Once upon a time the distinction had been the Circus handled all things political while the Department dealt with matters military. But over the years, power shifted and the Circus elbowed the Department out. Now, suddenly, the Department has a job on its hands. Evidence suggests Soviet missiles are being positioned close to the German border. Vital film is missing and a courier is dead. Lacking active agents, but possessed of an outdated mandate to proceed, the Department has to find an old hand to prove its mettle. Fred Leiser, German-speaking Pole turned Englishman -- once a qualified radio operator, now involved in the motor trade -- must be called back to the colors and sent East....
288 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1965
About the author
John le Carré
196 books8,724 followersJohn le Carré, the pseudonym of David John Moore Cornwell (born 19 October 1931 in Poole, Dorset, England), was an English author of espionage novels. Le Carré had resided in St Buryan, Cornwall, Great Britain, for more than 40 years, where he owned a mile of cliff close to Land's End.
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January 30, 2021
The Spy Who Came in from the Cold was praised for its harsh realism, but le Carre believed it was not harsh or realistic enough. On the contrary, he considered it unrealistic and romantic, what with its nearly omniscient intelligence agency, the agency's extraordinarily complex yet flawless plan, and the novel's melodramatic conclusion: the death of star-crossed lovers at the foot of the Berlin Wall.
For this next book, le Carre chose to abstain from grand dramatic gestures and instead describe the intelligence service as he had experienced it in the '50's, filled with aging English Public School types hampered by nostalgia for the days of The War and Merrie Old England, holding a prejudiced view of everything not “British,” and harboring the self-delusion that after countless compromises and betrayals they still possessed honor and commanded respect.
The photographic evidence of a missile placement in East Germany leads the foreign branch of military intelligence (“The Blackfriars Boys”), a ghost of its wartime self now reduced to gathering remote intelligence and conducting research, to once again--like in the good old days of The War—actually “put a man in,” that is, place a live agent on the ground for reconnaissance.
Thirty-two year old Avery, the only man in the whole operation who seems to be under fifty, is put in charge of re-training and handling Leiser, a Pole in his forties, who worked with the agency in the war and is now a British citizen and London auto-mechanic. We observe the training operation in detail, and those details reveal the snobbery, antique attitudes, and general incompetence of an agency still convinced it can do great things, in spite of the fact that it is poorly funded and on the losing end of almost every inter-agency squabble. Then Leiser is “put in” on the East German side, and the reader follows his movements, absorbed, to the suspenseful and dismaying conclusion.
This is a very good book, filled with incisive portraits and cutting irony. I thought, however, that Avery got just a little too preachy at the end. What he says is apt, and, since he is the youngest, most idealistic and least deluded of the bunch, he is certainly the right man to say it. But such preaching is unnecessary, since Carre's portraits and ironies have already done their work.
Not as powerful as The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, but in its own way even more disturbing and devastating.
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March 18, 2022
SPECCHIO SEGRETO
I due protagonisti, un giovane Anthony Hopkins nei panni di Avery e la meteora Christopher Jones in quelli di Leiser.
In piena guerra fredda (il romanzo è del 1965, il film è apparso quattro anni dopo), tra Inghilterra e DDR, dopo l’URSS il paese più sovietico del Patto di Varsavia, come si chiamava quell’alleanza “comunista” dei paesi dell’Est Europa che voleva contrapporsi a quella nata con la NATO qualche anno prima.
Autentico Le Carré, vero romanzo di spionaggio, che sin dal titolo rimanda a quel mondo di verità distorta, di realtà costruita che è il pane quotidiano di una spia: lo specchio che deforma, che lascia credere che lo si possa attraversare per guardare dall’altra parte, ma così non è. Una spia non è mica Alice nel paese delle meraviglie.
O sì?
Christopher Jones/Leiser e il suo amore inglese, Susan George, indimenticabile protagonista femminile di “Straw Dog – Cane di paglia”.
Le Carré mette in campo un doppio servizio di spionaggio britannico, una doppia struttura di intelligence, anche se siamo ben lontani da situazioni alla “deep state”: la struttura che dovrebbe occuparsi del caso, il Circus, quella diretta dalle vecchie conoscenze Control e Smiley, per questa operazione viene sostituita da una diversa struttura, il Dipartimento, sotto la direzione di Leclerc, che rischia d’essere smantellata.
E per evitare la chiusura si inventano un’operazione: per scoprire se davvero nella Germania Est si stanno installando missili che possono minacciare il Regno Unito si manda sul posto un agente polacco, che per la sua nazionalità è facilmente sacrificabile.
Leiser fa la conoscenza delle guardie della DDR.
Leiser è un ex agente richiamato per questa missione dopo essere passato ad altra attività per diversi anni: lavorava per lo spionaggio britannico, alias MI5 e MI6, in tempo di guerra. Per questa missione viene affidato a John Avery, il secondo di Leclerc all’interno del quasi “caro estinto” Dipartimento.
Leiser vuole ottenere la cittadinanza inglese, c’è una donna che ama, che ha messo incinta, e lei, pensando di interpretare il suo desiderio, decide di abortire, mentre invece Leiser vorrebbe il figlio, vorrebbe tanto una sua famiglia. Sotto la bandiera dell’Union Jack.
La spia in azione.
Per insaporire la pietanza narrativa (di quelle buone), Leiser e Avery si combattono e scontrano, prima di rispettarsi, accettarsi e diventare amici. Il polacco invidia l’inglese, che ha famiglia e stabilità (leggi documenti legali).
Inutile dire, non si tratta di spoiler, che non esiste alcun missile, che la missione è una copertura, che niente è come sembra, che ciò che si credeva vero così non è, le cose e la realtà (verità?) sono trasformate e deformate dalla percezione che qualcuno sa manipolare (le spie).
La Porta di Brandemburgo e il Muro di Berlino.
Per me questo romanzo appartiene alla miglior produzione di Le Carré, che forse si nutriva con particolare capacità dalla Guerra Fredda in corso. Qui, il mondo dello spionaggio è visto con occhio ironico, se ne indica, senza sottolineature, la natura pressoché inutile.
Nonostante la trama sia articolata e complessa, la si segue bene, grazie anche a una scrittura più misurata di quella che ritrovo in questi giorni in un altro romanzo di Le Carrè di circa vent’anni dopo, peraltro indicato come il suo capolavoro: nel quale, in centinaia e centinaia di pagine (troppe), Le Carré sembra voler sfoggiare abilità e scrittura rococò descrivendo un mondo di spie ben diverso da questo, uno spionaggio a base di libagioni e scopate a go go.
I due protagonisti, un giovane Anthony Hopkins nei panni di Avery e la meteora Christopher Jones in quelli di Leiser.
In piena guerra fredda (il romanzo è del 1965, il film è apparso quattro anni dopo), tra Inghilterra e DDR, dopo l’URSS il paese più sovietico del Patto di Varsavia, come si chiamava quell’alleanza “comunista” dei paesi dell’Est Europa che voleva contrapporsi a quella nata con la NATO qualche anno prima.
Autentico Le Carré, vero romanzo di spionaggio, che sin dal titolo rimanda a quel mondo di verità distorta, di realtà costruita che è il pane quotidiano di una spia: lo specchio che deforma, che lascia credere che lo si possa attraversare per guardare dall’altra parte, ma così non è. Una spia non è mica Alice nel paese delle meraviglie.
O sì?
Christopher Jones/Leiser e il suo amore inglese, Susan George, indimenticabile protagonista femminile di “Straw Dog – Cane di paglia”.
Le Carré mette in campo un doppio servizio di spionaggio britannico, una doppia struttura di intelligence, anche se siamo ben lontani da situazioni alla “deep state”: la struttura che dovrebbe occuparsi del caso, il Circus, quella diretta dalle vecchie conoscenze Control e Smiley, per questa operazione viene sostituita da una diversa struttura, il Dipartimento, sotto la direzione di Leclerc, che rischia d’essere smantellata.
E per evitare la chiusura si inventano un’operazione: per scoprire se davvero nella Germania Est si stanno installando missili che possono minacciare il Regno Unito si manda sul posto un agente polacco, che per la sua nazionalità è facilmente sacrificabile.
Leiser fa la conoscenza delle guardie della DDR.
Leiser è un ex agente richiamato per questa missione dopo essere passato ad altra attività per diversi anni: lavorava per lo spionaggio britannico, alias MI5 e MI6, in tempo di guerra. Per questa missione viene affidato a John Avery, il secondo di Leclerc all’interno del quasi “caro estinto” Dipartimento.
Leiser vuole ottenere la cittadinanza inglese, c’è una donna che ama, che ha messo incinta, e lei, pensando di interpretare il suo desiderio, decide di abortire, mentre invece Leiser vorrebbe il figlio, vorrebbe tanto una sua famiglia. Sotto la bandiera dell’Union Jack.
La spia in azione.
Per insaporire la pietanza narrativa (di quelle buone), Leiser e Avery si combattono e scontrano, prima di rispettarsi, accettarsi e diventare amici. Il polacco invidia l’inglese, che ha famiglia e stabilità (leggi documenti legali).
Inutile dire, non si tratta di spoiler, che non esiste alcun missile, che la missione è una copertura, che niente è come sembra, che ciò che si credeva vero così non è, le cose e la realtà (verità?) sono trasformate e deformate dalla percezione che qualcuno sa manipolare (le spie).
La Porta di Brandemburgo e il Muro di Berlino.
Per me questo romanzo appartiene alla miglior produzione di Le Carré, che forse si nutriva con particolare capacità dalla Guerra Fredda in corso. Qui, il mondo dello spionaggio è visto con occhio ironico, se ne indica, senza sottolineature, la natura pressoché inutile.
Nonostante la trama sia articolata e complessa, la si segue bene, grazie anche a una scrittura più misurata di quella che ritrovo in questi giorni in un altro romanzo di Le Carrè di circa vent’anni dopo, peraltro indicato come il suo capolavoro: nel quale, in centinaia e centinaia di pagine (troppe), Le Carré sembra voler sfoggiare abilità e scrittura rococò descrivendo un mondo di spie ben diverso da questo, uno spionaggio a base di libagioni e scopate a go go.
December 5, 2017
Have you ever wanted to be a spy? I didn’t – not until I started reading John Le Carré’s George Smiley series this year. I do remember when us four siblings played “spy” along with other games all over the acres of our farm and buildings, but I was a bit of a failure back then. I wanted to have everyone get along. I wanted to be the good guy who brought all the other ‘fighters’ (yes, I have an older brother) together in peace and harmony. So in the end, I became a double-spy. Great. My brothers were annoyed and my sister couldn’t figure me out. Ha!
Well, Linda Hunt look out – there’s a new Spy-Guy (um . . . make that Spy-Gal) in town!
I have enjoyed being an armchair spy reading this series and in this 4th book, there are conflicts arising between two factions of the spy game in London. One faction is supposed to be working the political end and one faction is supposed to be working the military end. But what does one do when these two areas start to overlap? Who gets to be the hero and save the day? And how?
Sometimes sideways psychology works. You go to the overall head of both departments who has a habit of saying no to everything. You plead like crazy for your Plan C as if it is Plan A – and he says no, then asks for an alternative. So, you casually toss off your Plan A as if it is of no consequence, and he adopts it like it was his idea in the first place.
That is roughly how this intriguing spy story begins. And George Smiley? Although he will never win any beauty contests, he has a mind like a steel trap – and he can make things happen in his quiet, unassuming way. For the most part, though, his role seems to be mopping up the messes after the fact.
Maybe I don’t really want to be a spy after all – but it is interesting and informative to read John Carré’s stories anyway.
Well, Linda Hunt look out – there’s a new Spy-Guy (um . . . make that Spy-Gal) in town!
I have enjoyed being an armchair spy reading this series and in this 4th book, there are conflicts arising between two factions of the spy game in London. One faction is supposed to be working the political end and one faction is supposed to be working the military end. But what does one do when these two areas start to overlap? Who gets to be the hero and save the day? And how?
Sometimes sideways psychology works. You go to the overall head of both departments who has a habit of saying no to everything. You plead like crazy for your Plan C as if it is Plan A – and he says no, then asks for an alternative. So, you casually toss off your Plan A as if it is of no consequence, and he adopts it like it was his idea in the first place.
That is roughly how this intriguing spy story begins. And George Smiley? Although he will never win any beauty contests, he has a mind like a steel trap – and he can make things happen in his quiet, unassuming way. For the most part, though, his role seems to be mopping up the messes after the fact.
Maybe I don’t really want to be a spy after all – but it is interesting and informative to read John Carré’s stories anyway.
December 29, 2020
***I know I shouldn’t have been shocked that John Le Carre passed away at the age of eighty-nine, but he has been so steadily prolific that I just thought he’d keep giving us a new novel every year until long after he reached the centennial mark. My cultural heroes have been passing away at an alarming rate of late. We feel acutely our own mortality in their demise. RIP David John Moore Cornwell.***
”’I’m sure you have all been through every detail of this already. Your love life, your pay, medical history, war service and the rest. There is just one thing that I might add about cover. Never volunteer information. People don’t expect you to explain yourself. If you are cornered, play it by ear. Stick as closely to the truth as you can. Cover should never be fabricated but only an extension of the truth.”
The Department was once a thriving part of the British intelligence organization, but since the end of the war it has become a shell of itself, managed by a skeleton crew. The real action is over at The Circus, where the legendary George Smiley resides. Leclerc, once a renown agent, has now been reduced to the role of a bureaucrat as head of The Department. When information from a defector comes their way that the Soviets are building up a massive rocket defense along the East German border, Leclerc seizes the opportunity to become a player once again. He has his team recruit an agent, a Pole who once worked for the British during the war, to infiltrate East Germany and find definitive proof that the defector’s information is true.
The operation is a cock-up from the get-go. The older men in the department are like ex-high school football players who get the call to lace up their cleats for one more game. The game has changed since they played, and they can’t read the defense as quickly, nor can they escape the blitz. They are competing in a game they are no longer competent to play. Fred Leiser, the Pole, has been successful in the post-war years, but there is nothing he can ever do that will match the exhilaration of those years when he lived by his wits in the service of British Intelligence. He should have told the whole lot of them to slag off and continued to enjoy his fine clothes, his leggy women, and his expensive booze, but he too wants one more chance for distinction. He has the reputation from the war of being a hard man to kill.
George Smiley is here, lurking in the background. ”Smiley was a small, distracted man with plump fingers and a shadowy, blinking way with him which suggested discomfort. Whatever Avery had expected, it was not this.” We’ve seen George Smiley played by Alec Guinness and Gary Oldman in the movies, and they both do such a wonderful job of showing a forgettable man with a formidable mind. When young John Avery meets Smiley, he is expecting something more along the order of an aging Greek God; instead he gets a man who can never stand out in a crowd, and that alone is such an asset in the spy game.
So we have all these aging spies walking around with tented pants, juices long thought to be extinguished suddenly flowing through their body like an infusion of ambrosia. We have young John Avery, who has the most important role of the group. He is the most likeable of them, and it is his job to convince Fred Leiser to like him and, by extension, trust him. Avery, still retaining a solid moral structure, balks at several points, but ultimately, he too gets drawn into the fantasy that what they are doing is important and doesn’t realize that this is just one more Hail Mary pass into a distant endzone.
The Department has become an incompetent organization peopled by staff who have lost their edge and are so overcome with the idea of being in the game that they make several disastrous decisions. Le Carre is certainly expressing his own worries and dissatisfaction with the way The Cold War was being managed in the 1960s. The bluster, the old equipment, the ineptitude, the lies, and finally the detachment when things go wrong are beastly. Le Carre may have been the best advocate for Intelligence organizations around the world, but he is also their harshest critic. Perhaps he may have been even suggesting that it is high time for some of those men who rose through the ranks during the war to finally retire to their gardens and libraries.
John Le Carre never disappoints.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten and an Instagram account https://www.instagram.com/jeffreykeeten/
”’I’m sure you have all been through every detail of this already. Your love life, your pay, medical history, war service and the rest. There is just one thing that I might add about cover. Never volunteer information. People don’t expect you to explain yourself. If you are cornered, play it by ear. Stick as closely to the truth as you can. Cover should never be fabricated but only an extension of the truth.”
The Department was once a thriving part of the British intelligence organization, but since the end of the war it has become a shell of itself, managed by a skeleton crew. The real action is over at The Circus, where the legendary George Smiley resides. Leclerc, once a renown agent, has now been reduced to the role of a bureaucrat as head of The Department. When information from a defector comes their way that the Soviets are building up a massive rocket defense along the East German border, Leclerc seizes the opportunity to become a player once again. He has his team recruit an agent, a Pole who once worked for the British during the war, to infiltrate East Germany and find definitive proof that the defector’s information is true.
The operation is a cock-up from the get-go. The older men in the department are like ex-high school football players who get the call to lace up their cleats for one more game. The game has changed since they played, and they can’t read the defense as quickly, nor can they escape the blitz. They are competing in a game they are no longer competent to play. Fred Leiser, the Pole, has been successful in the post-war years, but there is nothing he can ever do that will match the exhilaration of those years when he lived by his wits in the service of British Intelligence. He should have told the whole lot of them to slag off and continued to enjoy his fine clothes, his leggy women, and his expensive booze, but he too wants one more chance for distinction. He has the reputation from the war of being a hard man to kill.
George Smiley is here, lurking in the background. ”Smiley was a small, distracted man with plump fingers and a shadowy, blinking way with him which suggested discomfort. Whatever Avery had expected, it was not this.” We’ve seen George Smiley played by Alec Guinness and Gary Oldman in the movies, and they both do such a wonderful job of showing a forgettable man with a formidable mind. When young John Avery meets Smiley, he is expecting something more along the order of an aging Greek God; instead he gets a man who can never stand out in a crowd, and that alone is such an asset in the spy game.
So we have all these aging spies walking around with tented pants, juices long thought to be extinguished suddenly flowing through their body like an infusion of ambrosia. We have young John Avery, who has the most important role of the group. He is the most likeable of them, and it is his job to convince Fred Leiser to like him and, by extension, trust him. Avery, still retaining a solid moral structure, balks at several points, but ultimately, he too gets drawn into the fantasy that what they are doing is important and doesn’t realize that this is just one more Hail Mary pass into a distant endzone.
The Department has become an incompetent organization peopled by staff who have lost their edge and are so overcome with the idea of being in the game that they make several disastrous decisions. Le Carre is certainly expressing his own worries and dissatisfaction with the way The Cold War was being managed in the 1960s. The bluster, the old equipment, the ineptitude, the lies, and finally the detachment when things go wrong are beastly. Le Carre may have been the best advocate for Intelligence organizations around the world, but he is also their harshest critic. Perhaps he may have been even suggesting that it is high time for some of those men who rose through the ranks during the war to finally retire to their gardens and libraries.
John Le Carre never disappoints.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten and an Instagram account https://www.instagram.com/jeffreykeeten/
February 14, 2012
I cannot recall the exact age I was when I read this minimalist piece perfectly executed by the talented le Carré, but whatever is was—and around 15 years old sounds about right—it served as effective an eye-opener to reality as a set of clamps fixed upon what were previously orbs dreaming away behind sealed lids. At that time, my fictional intake was comprised of a not inconsiderable proportion of espionage thrillers—the sprawling series by Ian Fleming and Robert Ludlum primarily, but sprinkled in were a few of Pendleton's Mack Bolan and textualizations of the Man From U.N.C.L.E. franchise. These were all, more-or-less, well-written and entertaining enough to have sufficed at that age, and while the exoticness of the locales, the menacingly debonair airs of the various protagonists, their victories over impossible odds, the cunning double- and triple-crosses put into effect by jousting opponents, were all at a level ramped-up sufficiently to telegraph their fictionality, the covert world of spies and secret agents was given a sense of inherent power and importance, competence and peril, technological marvels and physical derring-do, that grafted their way onto its existence in the real world. This was all there: at a more subdued level, carried out in a less explosive manner—but the stakes were high, the operators were top-notch professionals, and the agencies that employed them were sophisticated and ultra-competent, with their shadowy, subterranean tendrils spread dexterously about an unsuspecting world. Indeed, even today, decades after this world of ghosts and specters was delineated in modes and means far closer to the actual truth of things by such as le Carré, it is the preferred form for its treatment, whether on paper, television set, or cinematic screen: larger-than-life, physically perfect specimens perform acts of death-defying acrobatics and stunt-work while exhibiting a feral and unerring lethality, all in an effort to avert the apocalyptic outcomes of the fiendishly clever, logically precise, and temporally taut plots of whatever respective villainous mind has set out to assert their will upon the world they would rule.
So it was that The Looking Glass War, this thin, unprepossessing book with its somewhat tacky, boxy red cover, struck me quite forcefully with the banality, the absurdity, the futility, and the morbidity that permeated nigh everything and everyone involved—with one centrally important exception—in its elegantly precise unwinding. Here was an intelligence agency—euphemized as The Department—peopled by creaking, ossified civil servants, pining nostalgically for the brief snatches of glory they had worked back in the old days of the Second World War and desperate to proclaim their collective relevance in the face of blatant Yankee superiority, rival institution triumphant supersession, and Warsaw Pact opacity. A lucky bit of informational unearthing—details of an alleged transfer of Soviet nuclear missiles to a secret East German military installation—seems to have given this British death-bed unit an opportunity to set their mark in confusing and confounding times; sparked these moribund fossils into energetic planning and plotting, in which a previously successful wartime operative, a Polish patriot named Leiser currently residing in England as a newly-married citizen, is brought out of mothballs and set through training procedures deemed sufficient to allow him to infiltrate the heavily guarded East German border and become their Johnny-on-the-Spot missile spotter. Alas, the acquired information appears to have been compromised right from the start, and Departmental cockups and bollixing unfold with enough depressing regularity to lead the reader to suspect the ailing, rusty intelligence agency running things of being a front for Ringling Brothers. In the face of accumulated failure—including the misfortune that forced Leiser to kill an East German border guard—George Smiley, a young turk serving a liason role between the agent-running anachronism and the freshly scrubbed, newly-minted Circus operating in the Big Time from London, convinces the former to pull the plug on the botched operation. Unfortunately, this news doesn't get through to the game but desperate Leiser, whose very transmissions allow the East Germans to pinpoint his location and bring their soldiers to bear on him with force. Worst of all? The missiles, in all likelihood, were never actually intended for that particular East German destination to begin with. It was all part of the cynical and ultimately pointless game-within a game-within a game that comprises the grim theatre of espionage in a world bifurcated between two ideologically-opposed nuclear powers.
Whatever illusions are carried into this book by the reader will be hard pressed to survive through to the end. This is a bleakly cynical, unrelentingly depressing tale, the textual equivalent of a fortnight of drizzling rain, sullen cloud blankets, and empty, tipped-over gin bottles. Le Carré works quickly, almost effortlessly here, not without compassion, but never glossing things up to any degree; it's a spartan operation, the authorial blade gleaming with the wickedly sharp edges brought to bear upon this rotten object he intends to give form. The entirety of the Department's operation, while not without a few strained traces of important endeavor and heroic effort (especially on the part of the doomed-from-the-outset Leiser), is primarily conducted with an earnest energy not quite sufficient to overcome the creaking lethargy of redundancy and the ridiculousness of this agency's esteem-reclaiming theatrics. As anyone who has read such as Tim Weiner's Legacy of Ashes knows, well-meaning but compromised and ignorant operators like Frank Wisner ran several assets on fatal missions into communist Europe, unaware that his opponents knew more about the agent's whereabouts than he did; and in The Looking Glass War le Carré has crafted herein a British cadre equivalent to Wisner: well-intentioned but riddled with the failures gestated within by their wounded pride, their deflated egos, and their inability to admit their own limitations and outdatedness. Of course, it is Leiser who will pay the ultimate price for their incompetent hubris, leaving them the comparative benefaction of a retirement to their clubs, their culpability routinely assuaged by another round of drinks and further retreat into the glory days when the lads had the rotten old Nazis on the run. As le Carré saw it, espionage was just another realm of government bureaucracy, subject to all the absurd laws of such and tending to be populated by the usual proportion of time-servers, power-seekers, ego-strokers, and lifeline-cutters, while perhaps more prone than most to overreach, the corrupting influence of money, and the despair engendered by their competition's comparative advantages. There is nothing here that speaks of glamor or steeliness—but I'll be damned if it didn't make an impression to outlast that of all the thrill-rides.
So it was that The Looking Glass War, this thin, unprepossessing book with its somewhat tacky, boxy red cover, struck me quite forcefully with the banality, the absurdity, the futility, and the morbidity that permeated nigh everything and everyone involved—with one centrally important exception—in its elegantly precise unwinding. Here was an intelligence agency—euphemized as The Department—peopled by creaking, ossified civil servants, pining nostalgically for the brief snatches of glory they had worked back in the old days of the Second World War and desperate to proclaim their collective relevance in the face of blatant Yankee superiority, rival institution triumphant supersession, and Warsaw Pact opacity. A lucky bit of informational unearthing—details of an alleged transfer of Soviet nuclear missiles to a secret East German military installation—seems to have given this British death-bed unit an opportunity to set their mark in confusing and confounding times; sparked these moribund fossils into energetic planning and plotting, in which a previously successful wartime operative, a Polish patriot named Leiser currently residing in England as a newly-married citizen, is brought out of mothballs and set through training procedures deemed sufficient to allow him to infiltrate the heavily guarded East German border and become their Johnny-on-the-Spot missile spotter. Alas, the acquired information appears to have been compromised right from the start, and Departmental cockups and bollixing unfold with enough depressing regularity to lead the reader to suspect the ailing, rusty intelligence agency running things of being a front for Ringling Brothers. In the face of accumulated failure—including the misfortune that forced Leiser to kill an East German border guard—George Smiley, a young turk serving a liason role between the agent-running anachronism and the freshly scrubbed, newly-minted Circus operating in the Big Time from London, convinces the former to pull the plug on the botched operation. Unfortunately, this news doesn't get through to the game but desperate Leiser, whose very transmissions allow the East Germans to pinpoint his location and bring their soldiers to bear on him with force. Worst of all? The missiles, in all likelihood, were never actually intended for that particular East German destination to begin with. It was all part of the cynical and ultimately pointless game-within a game-within a game that comprises the grim theatre of espionage in a world bifurcated between two ideologically-opposed nuclear powers.
Whatever illusions are carried into this book by the reader will be hard pressed to survive through to the end. This is a bleakly cynical, unrelentingly depressing tale, the textual equivalent of a fortnight of drizzling rain, sullen cloud blankets, and empty, tipped-over gin bottles. Le Carré works quickly, almost effortlessly here, not without compassion, but never glossing things up to any degree; it's a spartan operation, the authorial blade gleaming with the wickedly sharp edges brought to bear upon this rotten object he intends to give form. The entirety of the Department's operation, while not without a few strained traces of important endeavor and heroic effort (especially on the part of the doomed-from-the-outset Leiser), is primarily conducted with an earnest energy not quite sufficient to overcome the creaking lethargy of redundancy and the ridiculousness of this agency's esteem-reclaiming theatrics. As anyone who has read such as Tim Weiner's Legacy of Ashes knows, well-meaning but compromised and ignorant operators like Frank Wisner ran several assets on fatal missions into communist Europe, unaware that his opponents knew more about the agent's whereabouts than he did; and in The Looking Glass War le Carré has crafted herein a British cadre equivalent to Wisner: well-intentioned but riddled with the failures gestated within by their wounded pride, their deflated egos, and their inability to admit their own limitations and outdatedness. Of course, it is Leiser who will pay the ultimate price for their incompetent hubris, leaving them the comparative benefaction of a retirement to their clubs, their culpability routinely assuaged by another round of drinks and further retreat into the glory days when the lads had the rotten old Nazis on the run. As le Carré saw it, espionage was just another realm of government bureaucracy, subject to all the absurd laws of such and tending to be populated by the usual proportion of time-servers, power-seekers, ego-strokers, and lifeline-cutters, while perhaps more prone than most to overreach, the corrupting influence of money, and the despair engendered by their competition's comparative advantages. There is nothing here that speaks of glamor or steeliness—but I'll be damned if it didn't make an impression to outlast that of all the thrill-rides.
February 7, 2022
This is a dark and cynical and ultimately very sorrowful novel. Not as compact and airtight as his masterpiece The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, it nonetheless paints a mesmerizing and upsetting portrait of the flawed bureaucratic men who work for the UK intelligence agency, and the complicated, terrible decisions they’re driven to make. As always, le Carré’s immense gifts of crafting language, evoking suspense, and creating richly depicted characters shine very brightly. I look forward to continuing my journey through his oeuvre.
September 14, 2017
Do you know what love is? I'll tell you: it is whatever you can still betray.
If there is something like a literary model of a spy most of us would probably indicate on James Bond. Fast cars, beautiful women, shootings and all that false glamour. And after hard working day - martini shaken not stirred or conversely. Obviously. But not in LeCarre’s world.
Disillusioned, tired and cynical men in the world where goal is indistinct, praise doubtful, morality ambiguous and victory deceptive. This is a spy’s reality and The looking glass war fits into that trend of realistic spy novel perfectly.
John le Carré is depicturing a hopeless, grey world; reality in which man is just a pawn in the other’s game and the declarations and agreements are easily broken. There is no place for naïve idealists. The looking glass war is devoid of unexpected twists and turns, daring chases, thrilling fight scenes. The plot is focused on rivalry between two intelligence units and planned action in South Germany. Playing hare and hounds and searching for suit candidate to a dangerous task are in the centre of the book; and almost from the start you feel it is not going to end well.
This is a study of a morbid ambition and envy, ignoble betrayal and mediocrity in the intelligence community. But, most of all this it is a story about loneliness of a spy. In the name of what? LeCarre seems to ask. Novel is bleakly dark and depressing, an atmosphere claustrophobic, additionaly enhanced by picture of ugly surroundings and gloomy weather.
And after reading you need something much stronger than martini to soothe that overwhelming feeling of despair and anger.
October 26, 2021
My goodness, this is bleak - even for le Carré! Written in 1965, it's a savage exposé of a military intelligence department filled with has-beens, under-funded and essentially left behind by the Cold War, but still determined to exert their egos - and occasional foolish idealism - by pulling off the stunt of inserting an agent into East Germany to prove they still can. With a constant nostalgia for the war years when these men (and yes, they're all men) were young and purposeful, they're now adrift, entangled in petty bureaucratic competitions, and represent a Britain which has already lost power and agency on the world stage - all of which make this pertinent all over again in post-Brexit Britain.
The story would almost be absurd: sending agents out into the field with false passports whose numbers have already been cancelled, teaching an agent to shoot then telling him he's forbidden to take a gun, even using an agent as radio-operator who's too slow, who can't remember to change his frequencies as per protocol - except for the fact that the failures and narcissistic fantasising play with real lives. These are men still obsessed with their club membership, their claret and their class-instilled so-called innate British superiority to the naturalised Pole who so gallantly, but foolishly, allows himself to be persuaded back into the field - and why? Because he wants to be accepted as one of them.
With close and meticulous attention to detail of fieldcraft, operations and training, this is le Carré channeling blistering, seething rage into cool, chilling fiction.
The story would almost be absurd: sending agents out into the field with false passports whose numbers have already been cancelled, teaching an agent to shoot then telling him he's forbidden to take a gun, even using an agent as radio-operator who's too slow, who can't remember to change his frequencies as per protocol - except for the fact that the failures and narcissistic fantasising play with real lives. These are men still obsessed with their club membership, their claret and their class-instilled so-called innate British superiority to the naturalised Pole who so gallantly, but foolishly, allows himself to be persuaded back into the field - and why? Because he wants to be accepted as one of them.
With close and meticulous attention to detail of fieldcraft, operations and training, this is le Carré channeling blistering, seething rage into cool, chilling fiction.
March 18, 2012
There is a valuable lesson in this book: when an author uses a novel’s introduction to suggest it may be his worst, believe him. Of the four books I’ve written by John le Carré, The Looking Glass War is clearly the worst. le Carré seems to have issues carrying his stories when the plot is not singularly focused, when he is trying to make a negative point about some aspect of British culture. We saw this when le Carré tackled the prep school system in A Murder of Quality, and this time the author tries to express his disgust with the disorganization and second-rate stature of the British Intelligence system.
The Looking Glass War is divided into three primary sections: Taylor’s Run, Avery’s Run, and Leiser’s Run. Taylor’s Run and Leiser’s Run are each divided into three subsections: Prelude, Take-Off, and Homecoming. After Taylor’s Run, this novel does not again get remotely interesting until the Take-Off Section of Leiser’s Run, the sixth of the seven total sections. Everything in between is a meandering tale of British Intelligence infighting and inferiority complex.
The characters are not at all compelling. le Carré spends a lot of time whining about the characters’ wives (they are all annoying and undermining). Every single one of the married men is brought down in some way by his wife. The men are all intelligence officers, but their wives all demand to know the job secrets, and the men always tell them.
George Smiley, of course, is not married. His wife left him in the first novel, so he and Adrian Haldane, another unmarried man, are the only ones able to maintain a level head. It is clear that even more than women, le Carré hates marriage. And his love for Smiley is so over the top. He goes out of his way to show how much in love he is with the character he created.
The other big takeaway from The Looking Glass War is one I’m not certain le Carré intended. Leiser is a British immigrant from Poland. Years earlier than the events of this novel, Leiser worked as a spy during World War II. As he’s thrust back into action, we readers get to see intimate details of his interactions with very important British men he’s meeting for the first time. The way le Carré writes both Leiser’s feelings and those of the British officers during their interactions, I can see that the author is a believer in British superiority. Leiser is not and can never be a true Briton; he’s a Pole. He is less than them. They know it. He knows it. And no one ever needs to voice it because it is a given. And, in the world of the characters and the author, it is just.
No, I did not like this book. But I have completed all four novels that precede the Karla trilogy. My hope is that the singular focus of a case that spans three novels will take le Carré’s writing back to what he does best. We’ll see how it goes.
The Looking Glass War is divided into three primary sections: Taylor’s Run, Avery’s Run, and Leiser’s Run. Taylor’s Run and Leiser’s Run are each divided into three subsections: Prelude, Take-Off, and Homecoming. After Taylor’s Run, this novel does not again get remotely interesting until the Take-Off Section of Leiser’s Run, the sixth of the seven total sections. Everything in between is a meandering tale of British Intelligence infighting and inferiority complex.
The characters are not at all compelling. le Carré spends a lot of time whining about the characters’ wives (they are all annoying and undermining). Every single one of the married men is brought down in some way by his wife. The men are all intelligence officers, but their wives all demand to know the job secrets, and the men always tell them.
George Smiley, of course, is not married. His wife left him in the first novel, so he and Adrian Haldane, another unmarried man, are the only ones able to maintain a level head. It is clear that even more than women, le Carré hates marriage. And his love for Smiley is so over the top. He goes out of his way to show how much in love he is with the character he created.
The other big takeaway from The Looking Glass War is one I’m not certain le Carré intended. Leiser is a British immigrant from Poland. Years earlier than the events of this novel, Leiser worked as a spy during World War II. As he’s thrust back into action, we readers get to see intimate details of his interactions with very important British men he’s meeting for the first time. The way le Carré writes both Leiser’s feelings and those of the British officers during their interactions, I can see that the author is a believer in British superiority. Leiser is not and can never be a true Briton; he’s a Pole. He is less than them. They know it. He knows it. And no one ever needs to voice it because it is a given. And, in the world of the characters and the author, it is just.
No, I did not like this book. But I have completed all four novels that precede the Karla trilogy. My hope is that the singular focus of a case that spans three novels will take le Carré’s writing back to what he does best. We’ll see how it goes.
January 15, 2024
Le Carré didn't want his books to be seen as romances, but I think you can't help but read a little of that into The Spy Who Came In From the Cold. Yes, it's an indictment of the intelligence services, but it still has a hero and a love interest. The Looking Glass War is a corrective to that. It's a deadly serious farce. The Department undertakes three related missions, and everything they do is wrong. Le Carré's scorn is practically dripping off the page. And of course the real enemy isn't the Ruskies, or even the East Germans. It's their rivals in the intelligence community, Control and George Smiley and the whole of the Circus.
Maybe my favourite le Carré so far.
Maybe my favourite le Carré so far.
March 17, 2021
3.5 ☆ rounded up
The Looking Glass War (Smiley #4) was published in 1965 in an emotional reaction to the fulsome reception of le Carré's preceding novel, The Spy Who Came In from the Cold (Smiley #3). These two installments are matching bookends though appearing to offer polar extremes in professional competence. Is it necessary to read The Spy first? No, but starting with this one will lead to a different and possibly erroneous evaluation of le Carré as a storyteller.
In The Looking Glass War, the "Department" has been placed on the shelf with its financial resources having been steadily reallocated to its sister service - the "Circus" - since WWII ended nearly twenty years ago. Ostensibly, the focus of the Department is to gather military intelligence while the Circus prioritizes the political arena. The young aide to the Department's director Leclerc, John Avery is the proselyte and the story is delivered primarily through his perspective.
Like many of his key people, Leclerc is an old warhorse but he's far from content about being put to pasture. Jimmy Gorton, their man in Hamburg, Germany, has reported on movements of Soviet troops and the appearance of rockets within the German Democratic Republic. Leclerc seizes upon this dubious intelligence as the catalyst to resurrect his moribund Department. And although the Department no longer possesses skilled field operatives, Leclerc refuses to hand this "plum" inquiry over to the Circus while simultaneously borrowing their resources.
What ensues under Leclerc's direction is a tragicomedic parade of errors. All the spycraft techniques that le Carré had incorporated in The Spy are executed in an incompetent manner. The Department excels in mediocrity as whatever skills they had possessed have been eroded by atrophy. The class conscious, chauvinistic, and xenophobic attitudes of the men in the Department are flaunted as three men are successively deployed abroad. Le Carré assigns the role of insightful skeptics to the Department's secretary Carol and to Avery's wife Sarah, because as women, their voices are ignored.
The publication of The Spy catapulted le Carré into international fame but The Looking Glass War forced a crash landing, at least initially within the UK. From the Introduction, le Carré expressed his dismay with the public's adulation of his third novel; they had ignored his central theme and instead heaped praise on the complex machinations. To rectify that, le Carré wrote this, novel #4, as a parody of the espionage milieu and retained his theme . In retrospect, he reflected that he had not sufficiently taken this story to the extremes and he should have omitted the Circus as they're allowed to retain their glossy patina. As I commented initially, le Carré's third and fourth Smiley installments are matching bookends. Many erroneously believed that The Spy represented truth, despite le Carré's honest protestations otherwise. The Looking Glass War would be terribly painful in terms of people and money if it were an accurate portrait of espionage, as former CIA Director Dulles opined that it was. The truth is likely to be somewhere in the middle but perhaps closer to The Looking Glass War than comfort would allow.
In general, I'm not a fan of parodies. The writing did not appear as eloquent or as witty as le Carré could have written it. But I'm in no doubt of his brilliance, which is why I'm rounding up my 3.5 ☆ rating.
The Looking Glass War (Smiley #4) was published in 1965 in an emotional reaction to the fulsome reception of le Carré's preceding novel, The Spy Who Came In from the Cold (Smiley #3). These two installments are matching bookends though appearing to offer polar extremes in professional competence. Is it necessary to read The Spy first? No, but starting with this one will lead to a different and possibly erroneous evaluation of le Carré as a storyteller.
In The Looking Glass War, the "Department" has been placed on the shelf with its financial resources having been steadily reallocated to its sister service - the "Circus" - since WWII ended nearly twenty years ago. Ostensibly, the focus of the Department is to gather military intelligence while the Circus prioritizes the political arena. The young aide to the Department's director Leclerc, John Avery is the proselyte and the story is delivered primarily through his perspective.
... they lightly forgave one another their trespasses, because they dared not think, for their own sake, that the Department had room for fools. ... For its servants, the Department had a religious quality. Like monks, they endowed it with a mystical identity far away from the hesitant, sinful band which made up its ranks. While they might be cynical of the qualities of one another, contemptuous of their own hierarchical preoccupations, their faith in the Department burnt in some separate chapel and they called it patriotism.
Like many of his key people, Leclerc is an old warhorse but he's far from content about being put to pasture. Jimmy Gorton, their man in Hamburg, Germany, has reported on movements of Soviet troops and the appearance of rockets within the German Democratic Republic. Leclerc seizes upon this dubious intelligence as the catalyst to resurrect his moribund Department. And although the Department no longer possesses skilled field operatives, Leclerc refuses to hand this "plum" inquiry over to the Circus while simultaneously borrowing their resources.
[The Circus is] "a curious crowd. Some good, of course. Smiley was good. But they're cheats ... Lying's second nature to them. Half of them don't know any longer when they're telling the truth."
What ensues under Leclerc's direction is a tragicomedic parade of errors. All the spycraft techniques that le Carré had incorporated in The Spy are executed in an incompetent manner. The Department excels in mediocrity as whatever skills they had possessed have been eroded by atrophy. The class conscious, chauvinistic, and xenophobic attitudes of the men in the Department are flaunted as three men are successively deployed abroad. Le Carré assigns the role of insightful skeptics to the Department's secretary Carol and to Avery's wife Sarah, because as women, their voices are ignored.
"You've been telling me people don't matter, that I don't, Anthony doesn't; that the agents don't. You've been telling me that you've found a vocation. Well, who calls you, that's what I mean: what sort of vocation? That's the question you never answer: that's why you hide from me. Are you a martyr, John? Should I admire you for what you're doing?
You've said what I want you to say. You've got to draw a circle and not go outside of it. That's not double-think, it's unthink."
The publication of The Spy catapulted le Carré into international fame but The Looking Glass War forced a crash landing, at least initially within the UK. From the Introduction, le Carré expressed his dismay with the public's adulation of his third novel; they had ignored his central theme and instead heaped praise on the complex machinations. To rectify that, le Carré wrote this, novel #4, as a parody of the espionage milieu and retained his theme . In retrospect, he reflected that he had not sufficiently taken this story to the extremes and he should have omitted the Circus as they're allowed to retain their glossy patina. As I commented initially, le Carré's third and fourth Smiley installments are matching bookends. Many erroneously believed that The Spy represented truth, despite le Carré's honest protestations otherwise. The Looking Glass War would be terribly painful in terms of people and money if it were an accurate portrait of espionage, as former CIA Director Dulles opined that it was. The truth is likely to be somewhere in the middle but perhaps closer to The Looking Glass War than comfort would allow.
In general, I'm not a fan of parodies. The writing did not appear as eloquent or as witty as le Carré could have written it. But I'm in no doubt of his brilliance, which is why I'm rounding up my 3.5 ☆ rating.
March 4, 2022
Compared with its predecessor The Spy Who Came In from the Cold, The Looking Glass War (George Smiley #4) was a relative flop, especially in Britain. In John le Carré's introduction, written in 1991, he addresses this...
After the success of The Spy Who Came In from the Cold I felt I had earned the right to experiment with the more fragile possibilities of the spy story than those I had explored till now. For the truth was, that the realities of spying as I had known them on the ground had been far removed from the fiendishly clever conspiracy that had entrapped my hero and heroine in The Spy. I was eager to find a way of illustrating the muddle and futility that were so much closer to life. Indeed, I felt I had to: for while The Spy Who Came In from the Cold had been heralded as the book that ripped the mask off the spy business, my private view was that it had glamourised the spy business to Kingdom Come.
So this time, I thought, I'll tell it the hard way. This time, cost what it will, I'll describe a Secret Service that is really not very good at all; that is eking out its wartime glory; that is feeding itself on Little England fantasies; is isolated, directionless, over-protected and destined ultimately to destroy itself.
With my expectations suitably managed, and having loved the previous three Smiley novels, I conclude this is another excellent John le Carré novel. As in 'The Spy Who Came In from the Cold', George Smiley only has a bit part in this book, however his perceptiveness and awareness help the reader to understand what is happening.
In essence, 'The Looking Glass War’ is a tale of haplessness: “The Department” is a small, increasingly irrelevant legacy of WW2, populated by deluded staff, which makes the novel painful to read. Avery, the only young person, cuts a particularly tragic figure. Amateurism, tragedy and stupidity permeate the entire novel. John le Carré lays bare snobbery, vanity, a sense of denial and delusion, repressed emotions, faded dreams, and incompetence. It's palpable, and often hard to read, but remains grimly compelling throughout. It’s exactly what he set out to write: a more truthful novel that captured the internal politics, the little Englander mentality, and the complacency of the mid-60s UK intelligence service.
4/5
After the success of The Spy Who Came In from the Cold I felt I had earned the right to experiment with the more fragile possibilities of the spy story than those I had explored till now. For the truth was, that the realities of spying as I had known them on the ground had been far removed from the fiendishly clever conspiracy that had entrapped my hero and heroine in The Spy. I was eager to find a way of illustrating the muddle and futility that were so much closer to life. Indeed, I felt I had to: for while The Spy Who Came In from the Cold had been heralded as the book that ripped the mask off the spy business, my private view was that it had glamourised the spy business to Kingdom Come.
So this time, I thought, I'll tell it the hard way. This time, cost what it will, I'll describe a Secret Service that is really not very good at all; that is eking out its wartime glory; that is feeding itself on Little England fantasies; is isolated, directionless, over-protected and destined ultimately to destroy itself.
With my expectations suitably managed, and having loved the previous three Smiley novels, I conclude this is another excellent John le Carré novel. As in 'The Spy Who Came In from the Cold', George Smiley only has a bit part in this book, however his perceptiveness and awareness help the reader to understand what is happening.
In essence, 'The Looking Glass War’ is a tale of haplessness: “The Department” is a small, increasingly irrelevant legacy of WW2, populated by deluded staff, which makes the novel painful to read. Avery, the only young person, cuts a particularly tragic figure. Amateurism, tragedy and stupidity permeate the entire novel. John le Carré lays bare snobbery, vanity, a sense of denial and delusion, repressed emotions, faded dreams, and incompetence. It's palpable, and often hard to read, but remains grimly compelling throughout. It’s exactly what he set out to write: a more truthful novel that captured the internal politics, the little Englander mentality, and the complacency of the mid-60s UK intelligence service.
4/5
February 11, 2011
While the "Smiley" trilogy is rightly feted as one of the greatest Fiction trilogies of the 20th Century, this Novel is my personal favourite of Le Carre's formidable and rather intimidating catalogue.
Strictly meant for lovers of serious Fiction,this is easily the bleakest book that I have ever read in my life. I remember taking a shower at midnight after I was done with it to "cleanse" myself. A hard, bitter,relentlessly cynical and disturbingly realistic peek at the sordid workings of an Espionage network.
Le Carre begins in his customary languid style, setting the tone and mood before the plot begins to tighten almost imperceptibly; culminating in a claustrophobic and an almost schizophrenic climax that leaves you numb, stunned and pondering over the astonishing capacity of the human mind to weave webs around itself.
A small piece of seemingly important information comes into the hands of "The Department", an almost defunct Brit Espionage network that is gasping for breath and hanging on by the skin of its teeth. The "Circus" (Le Carre buffs will be familiar with the term) starts to flex its muscles and what ensues is a painstakingly precise Espionage procedural and an intense struggle for establishing individual identity which will inevitably be brushed aside with ruthless efficiency keeping the "larger interests" in mind.
Le Carre admitted that this was his most realistic,nihilistic and hard hitting book and suggested that the stiflingly bleak tone may have been too much for even most hardened readers. He was damn right !
Do not pay heed to to the average ratings here and follow the herd. With all due respect,they don't count for cow crap IMO.
Likely to be enjoyed and savoured by discerning,mature readers who can separate the wheat from the chaff.
Strictly meant for lovers of serious Fiction,this is easily the bleakest book that I have ever read in my life. I remember taking a shower at midnight after I was done with it to "cleanse" myself. A hard, bitter,relentlessly cynical and disturbingly realistic peek at the sordid workings of an Espionage network.
Le Carre begins in his customary languid style, setting the tone and mood before the plot begins to tighten almost imperceptibly; culminating in a claustrophobic and an almost schizophrenic climax that leaves you numb, stunned and pondering over the astonishing capacity of the human mind to weave webs around itself.
A small piece of seemingly important information comes into the hands of "The Department", an almost defunct Brit Espionage network that is gasping for breath and hanging on by the skin of its teeth. The "Circus" (Le Carre buffs will be familiar with the term) starts to flex its muscles and what ensues is a painstakingly precise Espionage procedural and an intense struggle for establishing individual identity which will inevitably be brushed aside with ruthless efficiency keeping the "larger interests" in mind.
Le Carre admitted that this was his most realistic,nihilistic and hard hitting book and suggested that the stiflingly bleak tone may have been too much for even most hardened readers. He was damn right !
Do not pay heed to to the average ratings here and follow the herd. With all due respect,they don't count for cow crap IMO.
Likely to be enjoyed and savoured by discerning,mature readers who can separate the wheat from the chaff.
March 1, 2024
Short and bleak. This one moved me to tears in the end. No James Bond ever did that.
November 1, 2010
Phenomenal, absolutely phenomenal.
Le Carre at the height of his powers. The Looking Glass War begins twenty years after the end of World War II, telling the tale of an imagined rivalry between the shrunken, decayed remains of military intelligence, and Smiley's legendary Circus, the political wing of British Intelligence.
The book begins with a botched operation; an agent dies. These men are no longer operational, they are playing at a game that has passed them by in terms of manpower, technology, technique and ability. Bathed in a sepia-toned fondness for the Good War, when ministries and armies awaited their decisions, they long to return to a time when they were vitally connected to the heart of something bigger. When a blurry, dubious lead falls into their laps, they eagerly blow it up into a full-scale spy operation, recruiting a long-retired agent who is laboring under the same sentiments as themselves; he too, longs to return to a time when he mattered.
The characters and situations are real and dimensional, sharply defined. You can almost hear them squabbling, you can almost see the bleak gray landscape. The politics are painfully amoral.
A mesmerizing read, as good in its way as The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. Highly recommended.
Le Carre at the height of his powers. The Looking Glass War begins twenty years after the end of World War II, telling the tale of an imagined rivalry between the shrunken, decayed remains of military intelligence, and Smiley's legendary Circus, the political wing of British Intelligence.
The book begins with a botched operation; an agent dies. These men are no longer operational, they are playing at a game that has passed them by in terms of manpower, technology, technique and ability. Bathed in a sepia-toned fondness for the Good War, when ministries and armies awaited their decisions, they long to return to a time when they were vitally connected to the heart of something bigger. When a blurry, dubious lead falls into their laps, they eagerly blow it up into a full-scale spy operation, recruiting a long-retired agent who is laboring under the same sentiments as themselves; he too, longs to return to a time when he mattered.
The characters and situations are real and dimensional, sharply defined. You can almost hear them squabbling, you can almost see the bleak gray landscape. The politics are painfully amoral.
A mesmerizing read, as good in its way as The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. Highly recommended.
June 22, 2011
Man, this is one depressing book. As the author states in the intro, this book is a cynical look at the intelligence/spy world and is almost a parody of LeCarre's first big hit, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold.
With subtle (and a few not so subtle) hints of the ridiculous attempts by past-their prime and out of touch military intelligence officers to recover their relavancy and stage one last mission, the book is a slowly building tragedy. You know it is not going to end well nearly from the start. In contrast to most spy novels, these guys just don't quite have it all together, although they present a confident front.
As with most of his early books, he combines cynicism of the cold war, a critic of 1960's British class issues, and discussion of human nature to create real, compelling characters and, in this case, realistic situation that slowly unfolds as a farce instead of a triumph.
With subtle (and a few not so subtle) hints of the ridiculous attempts by past-their prime and out of touch military intelligence officers to recover their relavancy and stage one last mission, the book is a slowly building tragedy. You know it is not going to end well nearly from the start. In contrast to most spy novels, these guys just don't quite have it all together, although they present a confident front.
As with most of his early books, he combines cynicism of the cold war, a critic of 1960's British class issues, and discussion of human nature to create real, compelling characters and, in this case, realistic situation that slowly unfolds as a farce instead of a triumph.
January 18, 2020
Not his best.
March 15, 2023
Written as a respond to his previous novel - The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, a novel Le Carre intended to be a deconstruction of the mythos that had sprung up around MI6 in the post-war era, was instead received with romanticisation of the spy life and saw its protagonist, Alec Leamas, as a tragic hero. As such, The Looking Glass War is a bleak look of the spying world and a novel of profound disillusionment.
Set during the early 1960s the novel follows The Department, a once thriving intelligence department attached to the military, now manned by a skeleton crew, languishing in the mundanity of bureaucratic battles and inconsequential desk work, mounting an operation to prove the existence of a recently build Soviet missiles base in East Germany with the hopes of regaining their standing in their nation’s intelligence community.
The Department itself (and ironically also James Bond and the Double O Department) was based on the Special Operation Executive, a WWII covert paramilitary intelligence agency that conducts intelligence gathering, sabotage and targeted assassination deep within the enemy line. Though, their psyops method at times unease both MI6 and even the OSS (the precursor to CIA) which was reference by The Department’s director - Leclerc in his nostalgic ramblings during the war time, a pompous fellow whose taste and standard are exquisite and of the 1%. Along with Leclerc are Adrian Haldane, John Avery and Fred Leiser. Haldane is a snobbish intelligence officer whose research report impresses the Circus(MI6) or so George Smiley from Circus say(Yes, this is set in the Smiley-verse), John Avery, a naive rookie intelligence officer sent to retrieve the dead body of one of his colleague and later, retrained Mr Fred Leiser, a naturalized Pole and was once an agent run by The Department during war time and now reactivated to infiltrate East Germany and radioed back encrypted message to The Department boys who would be in the house near the border.
The mission is a typical noir journey. Leclerc’s compartmentalization with their government liaison, The Circus and toward his own members are a big part of it. Dated equipment and information are another. Leiser’s ptsd which unravel quickly after he crossed the border, the next. Avery’s naivety regarding the mission and the asset that he befriended during the retraining is Le Carre hammering home this doom and gloom endeavor.
Le Carre's prose is as always, outstanding unlike many writers in the very same genre. It's closer to Graham Greene; witty, punchy and crisp.
In the midst of entering his prime espionage fiction foray, Le Carre creates one reminisce of his modern post Cold War, angry and preachy writing that hides a surprisingly underrated noir-like take on the espionage genre that's as bleak as they come but can easily stand around his output of that era without any asterisk.
Set during the early 1960s the novel follows The Department, a once thriving intelligence department attached to the military, now manned by a skeleton crew, languishing in the mundanity of bureaucratic battles and inconsequential desk work, mounting an operation to prove the existence of a recently build Soviet missiles base in East Germany with the hopes of regaining their standing in their nation’s intelligence community.
The Department itself (and ironically also James Bond and the Double O Department) was based on the Special Operation Executive, a WWII covert paramilitary intelligence agency that conducts intelligence gathering, sabotage and targeted assassination deep within the enemy line. Though, their psyops method at times unease both MI6 and even the OSS (the precursor to CIA) which was reference by The Department’s director - Leclerc in his nostalgic ramblings during the war time, a pompous fellow whose taste and standard are exquisite and of the 1%. Along with Leclerc are Adrian Haldane, John Avery and Fred Leiser. Haldane is a snobbish intelligence officer whose research report impresses the Circus(MI6) or so George Smiley from Circus say(Yes, this is set in the Smiley-verse), John Avery, a naive rookie intelligence officer sent to retrieve the dead body of one of his colleague and later, retrained Mr Fred Leiser, a naturalized Pole and was once an agent run by The Department during war time and now reactivated to infiltrate East Germany and radioed back encrypted message to The Department boys who would be in the house near the border.
The mission is a typical noir journey. Leclerc’s compartmentalization with their government liaison, The Circus and toward his own members are a big part of it. Dated equipment and information are another. Leiser’s ptsd which unravel quickly after he crossed the border, the next. Avery’s naivety regarding the mission and the asset that he befriended during the retraining is Le Carre hammering home this doom and gloom endeavor.
Le Carre's prose is as always, outstanding unlike many writers in the very same genre. It's closer to Graham Greene; witty, punchy and crisp.
In the midst of entering his prime espionage fiction foray, Le Carre creates one reminisce of his modern post Cold War, angry and preachy writing that hides a surprisingly underrated noir-like take on the espionage genre that's as bleak as they come but can easily stand around his output of that era without any asterisk.
January 2, 2021
This was a very good spy novel, but given the high standards set by Le Carre later in his career, not quite deserving of a 5-star rating. In the Kindle edition I have, there is a nice forward written by Le Carre. He had just won international fame for The Spy Who Came In From the Cold (definitely a 5-star tale) but he himself was not happy with it -- It was a little too perfect, too Hollywood, and not accurate with regards to the muddled clusterfucks that he actually witnessed during his time in the espionage world.
So he wrote this book to set the record straight. I am lucky to have read this book a short while ago, which provides historical context and which shows that Le Carre's vision is highly accurate. The Looking-Glass War is a slow-motion train wreck: We read in mounting dread as we see just how doomed this project is. When it came out, the critics hated it, but one could argue that it was actually this book and not the Cold in which Le Carre finally solidified as a writer.
Anybody who's worked in a badly-managed company will feel on familiar ground here, just in terms of having decisions made by people who have no call to be making these decisions. Luckily, in business, the worst that will happen is that somebody (but not the incompetent managers, usually) will lose their jobs. Here, the stakes are a bit higher.
So he wrote this book to set the record straight. I am lucky to have read this book a short while ago, which provides historical context and which shows that Le Carre's vision is highly accurate. The Looking-Glass War is a slow-motion train wreck: We read in mounting dread as we see just how doomed this project is. When it came out, the critics hated it, but one could argue that it was actually this book and not the Cold in which Le Carre finally solidified as a writer.
Anybody who's worked in a badly-managed company will feel on familiar ground here, just in terms of having decisions made by people who have no call to be making these decisions. Luckily, in business, the worst that will happen is that somebody (but not the incompetent managers, usually) will lose their jobs. Here, the stakes are a bit higher.
April 6, 2021
The Looking Glass War is perhaps the least exciting spy novel imaginable. Full of aging men who are part of a forgotten war-era military intelligence unit, nostalgic and eager to recapture some of their past glory on a half-cocked mission behind the iron curtain. Clearly the story is a rebuke of the ineptitude of the old guard of the cold war era British intelligence establishment, with their silly pretensions and inter-agency rivalries, more intent on re-living the past than adapting to a changing landscape.
As always, le Carré's genius lies in his keen characterizations and his nuanced portrayals of fraught relationships, both personal and professional. It most definitely won't tempt anyone to get into intelligence work (quite the opposite), but le Carré's magic makes it engrossing, despite the languid pace, by keeping it intensely personal and believable.
"There were times when he confronted his own image as a man confronts an empty valley, and the vision propelled him forward again to experience as despair compels us to extinction. Sometimes he was like a man in flight, but running toward the enemy, desperate to feel upon his vanishing body the blows that would prove his being; desperate to imprint upon his sad conformity the mark of real purpose, desperate perhaps, as Leclerc had hinted, to abdicate his conscience in order to discover God."
As always, le Carré's genius lies in his keen characterizations and his nuanced portrayals of fraught relationships, both personal and professional. It most definitely won't tempt anyone to get into intelligence work (quite the opposite), but le Carré's magic makes it engrossing, despite the languid pace, by keeping it intensely personal and believable.
"There were times when he confronted his own image as a man confronts an empty valley, and the vision propelled him forward again to experience as despair compels us to extinction. Sometimes he was like a man in flight, but running toward the enemy, desperate to feel upon his vanishing body the blows that would prove his being; desperate to imprint upon his sad conformity the mark of real purpose, desperate perhaps, as Leclerc had hinted, to abdicate his conscience in order to discover God."
February 15, 2019
Do you know what love is? I’ll tell you: it is whatever you can still betray.
In many ways, this is a book about betrayal. How time betrays us, how men betrays us, how our memory betrays us, how our hubris and ambition betray us, and, yes, how love betrays us.
The world of espionage is a filthy business and not for the faint of heart. He who controls the secrets wields power, and men want power; bad men want it, of course, but all too often it is basically good men who give in to the worst sides of themselves in reaching for it. There is a price to be paid, but no worries if that price is paid by someone else.
The ordinary people recognize that there is little difference between the sides that pull at them. When Leiser is told to go away by an old man who serves him beer, the old man says,
You are either good or bad, and both are dangerous. Go away.
Indeed, both are dangerous and sometimes which you are is hard to distinguish.
I found this fourth novel in the Smiley series to be even more cynical and tragic than The Spy Who Came In from the Cold. I wondered why “Looking Glass” war, and I thought perhaps because it held a mirror up to what truly transpires behind the curtains and, like a mirror image, everything it reflects is the reverse of what it should be.
There is agony at moments in this novel, as we watch the innocent and easily duped taken in by the experienced and callous. John le Carre’s descriptions are riveting and tense. His heroes are ordinary, and the men in control are seldom heroic at all.
The next novel in the series is the inimitable Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. In my opinion, these books are only getting better as we go.
In many ways, this is a book about betrayal. How time betrays us, how men betrays us, how our memory betrays us, how our hubris and ambition betray us, and, yes, how love betrays us.
The world of espionage is a filthy business and not for the faint of heart. He who controls the secrets wields power, and men want power; bad men want it, of course, but all too often it is basically good men who give in to the worst sides of themselves in reaching for it. There is a price to be paid, but no worries if that price is paid by someone else.
The ordinary people recognize that there is little difference between the sides that pull at them. When Leiser is told to go away by an old man who serves him beer, the old man says,
You are either good or bad, and both are dangerous. Go away.
Indeed, both are dangerous and sometimes which you are is hard to distinguish.
I found this fourth novel in the Smiley series to be even more cynical and tragic than The Spy Who Came In from the Cold. I wondered why “Looking Glass” war, and I thought perhaps because it held a mirror up to what truly transpires behind the curtains and, like a mirror image, everything it reflects is the reverse of what it should be.
There is agony at moments in this novel, as we watch the innocent and easily duped taken in by the experienced and callous. John le Carre’s descriptions are riveting and tense. His heroes are ordinary, and the men in control are seldom heroic at all.
The next novel in the series is the inimitable Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. In my opinion, these books are only getting better as we go.
November 7, 2017
I am reading le Carre's Smiley books in order. I finished THE LOOKING GLASS WAR yesterday. It is brilliant. My plan, and I reserve the right to change it, is to read all of the books and review them as a group when I have finished.
As for LOOKING GLASS, it came as a surprise. It is a comedy. A blistering and dark send up of the incompetence and dysfunction within the British military intelligence community which, in the 1960s, was dominated by aging and obsolete hold-overs from WWII. le Carre had me laughing out loud more than once as these sorry bumblers prepared a mission into East Germany to see if the Russians were building a nuclear missile base ala' what had happened in Castro's Cuba a few years before.
Of course, the humor does not last and the ending of LOOKING GLASS, as it inevitably must, is quite tragic. Call the book a tragi-comedy, I suppose. But I will maintain my position that LOOKING GLASS is greatly under-rated. It might even be better than SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD. le Carre himself thought it more realistic than SPY.
For now, I have to say again that le Carre's prose is special. Here is one of his sentences that caught my eye: "The whole house gently asserted an air of old age; it had a quality, like incense, of courteous but inconsolable sadness."
To write like that . . .
As for LOOKING GLASS, it came as a surprise. It is a comedy. A blistering and dark send up of the incompetence and dysfunction within the British military intelligence community which, in the 1960s, was dominated by aging and obsolete hold-overs from WWII. le Carre had me laughing out loud more than once as these sorry bumblers prepared a mission into East Germany to see if the Russians were building a nuclear missile base ala' what had happened in Castro's Cuba a few years before.
Of course, the humor does not last and the ending of LOOKING GLASS, as it inevitably must, is quite tragic. Call the book a tragi-comedy, I suppose. But I will maintain my position that LOOKING GLASS is greatly under-rated. It might even be better than SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD. le Carre himself thought it more realistic than SPY.
For now, I have to say again that le Carre's prose is special. Here is one of his sentences that caught my eye: "The whole house gently asserted an air of old age; it had a quality, like incense, of courteous but inconsolable sadness."
To write like that . . .
May 13, 2012
Book four in the George Smiley series by John Le Carre. This is a difficult book for me to rate. The end result is a brilliant condemnation of bureaucrats and their willingness to put their rules ahead of people. However, to get to that end result, we are forced to read over 250 pages of bureaucracy - and that is as enjoyable as a day wasted at the DMV.
In this case British military intelligence - staffed by a bunch of surviving WWII intelligence officers (remember this is set in 1963) decide to run an operation in East Germany. Rather than turn it over to "the Circus" who was equipped and trained for such an op, they recruit another WWII has been and send him behind the Iron Curtain. In the end, there is no way this fiasco can end except badly - and the people in charge demonstrate their devotion to the bureaucracy by abandoning their man.
As I said, the brilliant message is buried under the bureaucracy, and after a lifetime spent working in the bureaucracy, it was too much to ask. For a person looking for the message, rather than the method of storytelling, this could be a great book. For me, not so much.
In this case British military intelligence - staffed by a bunch of surviving WWII intelligence officers (remember this is set in 1963) decide to run an operation in East Germany. Rather than turn it over to "the Circus" who was equipped and trained for such an op, they recruit another WWII has been and send him behind the Iron Curtain. In the end, there is no way this fiasco can end except badly - and the people in charge demonstrate their devotion to the bureaucracy by abandoning their man.
As I said, the brilliant message is buried under the bureaucracy, and after a lifetime spent working in the bureaucracy, it was too much to ask. For a person looking for the message, rather than the method of storytelling, this could be a great book. For me, not so much.
May 16, 2021
[Edit: 3* for the 1969 film (double my star rating for the book!) starring Ralphmalph Richardson and Anto Hopkins, which was yet again quite entertaining: it trimmed nearly all the excess detail away and changed the Polish agent's story and backstory significantly enough to heighten the eventual pathos. So, in the Book v. Movie tourney it now stands at 1 v. 3!]
Smiley #4 not only had 0.4% Smiley (who has, like, maybe 4 brief walk-ons?), after a reasonably promising first couple dozen pages it plain gave up: thereafter, I am really quite sorry to say (for I was rooting for it), it had nothing going on in it whatsoever . WTF was that?! 15/16ths of the book go by before anything more than bureaucratic hand-wringing even dreams of turning into a happening, when at long, long, long, long last the lads go over to Germany and dump an agent over the border , the End.
Seriously, this is as jam-packed with factz as any Daniel Defoe novel you care to name, but with far less incident, und mit nothingk other than bureaukratishcen kultur (interdepartmental back-stabbing, acting sexist around the plucky secretaries, dinner at the Gentleman's Club...), and the endlessly tedious minutiae surrounding the tediously endless process of agent-prepping (immersing him in departmental ideology, plans-plans-plans-and-more-plans, 5,000 words on how-to-use-a-telegraph...) to compensate for that lack —in other words, no linguistic or stylistic or modernistic any -istic shenanigans to speak of!
Now, in order to fulfill my contract, I gotta go see the 1970-something movie, if I can find it (however could they have filmed such nothingness?)
I can't go on, I'll go on, I guess....
1.5*
January 15, 2019
The Looking Glass War by John Le Carre was published after his runaway bestseller The Spy Who Came In from the Cold was first published in 1963. However, Le Carre felt that the book failed to explore the realities of spying on the ground, as he knew them, and tended to glamorize espionage. Hence, The Looking Glass War was his effort to portray the British Intelligence community in the Cold War era, with all of its shortcomings, feuds and betrayals. Le Carre certainly achieved his goal of portraying the grittiness, danger and loneliness of the lives of those in the Secret Service, particularly since there was a lack of funds, and the glamour had been stripped away at the conclusion of the war. The plot involved the risk of infiltrating into East Germany a spy to conduct surveillance of what was thought to be a missle production plant. What transpires will leave one breathless as the story unfolds and the dramtic ending leaves one cold. When it come to espionage, this was a literary masterpiece by one of the best.
"It's a great deal harder, I know, in peacetime. It requires courage. Courage of a different kind."
"They were his colleagues. Prisoners of silence, the three of them would work side by side, breaking the arid land all four seasons of the year, strangers to each other, needing each other, in a wilderness of abandoned faith."
"He put the keys back in his pocket, and as he drew his hand away he felt the links slip between his thumb and finger like the beads of a rosary. For a moment he let them linger there; there was comfort in their touch; they were where his childhood was. St. Christopher and all his angels, please preserve us from road accidents."
"It's a great deal harder, I know, in peacetime. It requires courage. Courage of a different kind."
"They were his colleagues. Prisoners of silence, the three of them would work side by side, breaking the arid land all four seasons of the year, strangers to each other, needing each other, in a wilderness of abandoned faith."
"He put the keys back in his pocket, and as he drew his hand away he felt the links slip between his thumb and finger like the beads of a rosary. For a moment he let them linger there; there was comfort in their touch; they were where his childhood was. St. Christopher and all his angels, please preserve us from road accidents."
June 23, 2023
Brilliant! I had just tried to read a Charles Cumming and was bored by it. I craved the master of spy fiction and he didn't disappoint. It's very dated now, particularly the stiff upper lip, public schoolboy English but I loved it. Leclerc noticed that the claret was very good. He wished he had joined a smaller club; his own had gone off terribly. They had such difficulty with staff.
The descriptions of the East-West border are historical records now but very evocative. Only at night, when the beam of a searchlight springs from the darkness and draws its wavering finger across the cold earth, does the heart chill for the captive crouching like a hare in the plough, waiting to break cover and run in terror till he fall. It reminded me of how I felt in the summer of 1975, staying on the Polish border, a youth band on tour. We sat in our hotel rooms during the curfew watching the beam and felt very chilled and afraid.
Essentially this is about a lost generation. Those who fought in WW2, were excited by their role in it and couldn't find their way in life when it ended. 20 years later, in an effort to recapture the emotions of that time, they are prepared to put lives on the line - but not their own. It's about the futility of war games badly managed and the cheapness of other people's lives. Horrifying in its own way.
The descriptions of the East-West border are historical records now but very evocative. Only at night, when the beam of a searchlight springs from the darkness and draws its wavering finger across the cold earth, does the heart chill for the captive crouching like a hare in the plough, waiting to break cover and run in terror till he fall. It reminded me of how I felt in the summer of 1975, staying on the Polish border, a youth band on tour. We sat in our hotel rooms during the curfew watching the beam and felt very chilled and afraid.
Essentially this is about a lost generation. Those who fought in WW2, were excited by their role in it and couldn't find their way in life when it ended. 20 years later, in an effort to recapture the emotions of that time, they are prepared to put lives on the line - but not their own. It's about the futility of war games badly managed and the cheapness of other people's lives. Horrifying in its own way.
January 27, 2019
Τέταρτο βιβλίο του Τζον Λε Καρέ που διαβάζω, μετά το "Ο κατάσκοπος που γύρισε από το κρύο", το "Τηλεφώνημα για το νεκρό" και το "Έγκλημα ποιότητας", και δηλώνω ξανά αρκούντως ικανοποιημένος, τόσο από την ιστορία, όσο κυρίως από τη γραφή και το όλο στιλ αφήγησης, που κατατάσσει τον συγκεκριμένο συγγραφέα σε έναν από τους κορυφαίους του είδους του. Όπως και στα προηγούμενα τρία βιβλία του, έτσι και σ'αυτό συμμετέχει ο Τζορτζ Σμάιλι, αν και αυτή τη φορά σε δευτερεύοντα και μάλλον όχι ιδιαίτερα χρήσιμο ρόλο.
Με το βιβλίο αυτό ο Τζον Λε Καρέ δείχνει τις τεράστιες γνώσεις που έχει για τον κόσμο των μυστικών υπηρεσιών και τον τρόπο λειτουργίας και σκέψης των πρακτόρων και των διαφόρων υπαλλήλων που τις απαρτίζουν, γνώσεις που απέκτησε από πρώτο χέρι, όντας για χρόνια πράκτορας και ο ίδιος (μέχρι που "κάηκε" από τον διπλό πράκτορα Κιμ Φίλμπι και το γύρισε στη συγγραφή βιβλίων). Μίνι περίληψη: Μη επιβεβαιωμένες πληροφορίες υποδεικνύουν ότι σοβιετικοί πύραυλοι εγκαταστάθηκαν στην Ανατολική Γερμανία, πολύ κοντά στα σύνορα με τη Δυτική. Ένα ζωτικής σημασίας φωτογραφικό φιλμ χάνεται και ο "ταχυδρόμος" που το μετέφερε, πιθανότατα δολοφονείται. Η Υπηρεσία βρίσκει μια ευκαιρία να πάρει ξανά μπρος και να οργανώσει μια επιχείρηση μετά από καιρό. Ένας γερμανόφωνος Πολωνός με Αγγλική υπηκοότητα, θα είναι ο πράκτορας που θα επιλεγεί για να επιβεβαιώσει τις πληροφορίες. Όμως τα πράγματα πιθανότατα δεν είναι όπως φαίνονται, ενώ επίσης θα εξελιχθούν πολύ διαφορετικά απ'ό,τι περίμενε η Υπηρεσία...
Πρόκειται για ένα εξαιρετικά ρεαλιστικό κατασκοπευτικό μυθιστόρημα, που αναδεικνύει με τον πλέον σαφή τρόπο τον κυνισμό που επικρατεί στον κόσμο των κατασκόπων, καθώς και τα προβλήματα που συνεχώς ανακύπτουν κατά τη διάρκεια μιας επιχείρησης. Οι σκηνές δράσης είναι οι πλέον απαραίτητες, όμως ο συγγραφέας καταφέρνει να κρατήσει την αγωνία σε υψηλά επίπεδα, μέχρι το πολύ κυνικό φινάλε. Οι περιγραφές των διαδικασιών, των διαφόρων καταστάσεων και των σκηνικών, είναι πάρα πολύ καλές, κατάφεραν με περισσή ευκολία να με μπάσουν στον ασπρόμαυρο κόσμο των κατασκόπων. Επίσης οι διάλογοι είναι καλοδουλεμένοι και φυσικοί, ενώ και οι χαρακτήρες είναι αρκετά καλά σκιαγραφημένοι. Ουσιαστικά για λεπτομέρειες δεν του βάζω πέντε αστεράκια (ίσως τα κρατάω για άλλα βιβλία του συγγραφέα που θα διαβάσω στο μέλλον).
Υ.Γ. Το βιβλίο κυκλοφόρησε αρχικά στα ελληνικά από τις εκδόσεις Bell, με τον τίτλο "Η ιστορία δεν επαναλαμβάνεται", ενώ μπορεί να το βρει κανείς πάμφθηνα από τις εκδόσεις Καστανιώτη, με τον τίτλο "Η ώρα των κατασκόπων".
Με το βιβλίο αυτό ο Τζον Λε Καρέ δείχνει τις τεράστιες γνώσεις που έχει για τον κόσμο των μυστικών υπηρεσιών και τον τρόπο λειτουργίας και σκέψης των πρακτόρων και των διαφόρων υπαλλήλων που τις απαρτίζουν, γνώσεις που απέκτησε από πρώτο χέρι, όντας για χρόνια πράκτορας και ο ίδιος (μέχρι που "κάηκε" από τον διπλό πράκτορα Κιμ Φίλμπι και το γύρισε στη συγγραφή βιβλίων). Μίνι περίληψη: Μη επιβεβαιωμένες πληροφορίες υποδεικνύουν ότι σοβιετικοί πύραυλοι εγκαταστάθηκαν στην Ανατολική Γερμανία, πολύ κοντά στα σύνορα με τη Δυτική. Ένα ζωτικής σημασίας φωτογραφικό φιλμ χάνεται και ο "ταχυδρόμος" που το μετέφερε, πιθανότατα δολοφονείται. Η Υπηρεσία βρίσκει μια ευκαιρία να πάρει ξανά μπρος και να οργανώσει μια επιχείρηση μετά από καιρό. Ένας γερμανόφωνος Πολωνός με Αγγλική υπηκοότητα, θα είναι ο πράκτορας που θα επιλεγεί για να επιβεβαιώσει τις πληροφορίες. Όμως τα πράγματα πιθανότατα δεν είναι όπως φαίνονται, ενώ επίσης θα εξελιχθούν πολύ διαφορετικά απ'ό,τι περίμενε η Υπηρεσία...
Πρόκειται για ένα εξαιρετικά ρεαλιστικό κατασκοπευτικό μυθιστόρημα, που αναδεικνύει με τον πλέον σαφή τρόπο τον κυνισμό που επικρατεί στον κόσμο των κατασκόπων, καθώς και τα προβλήματα που συνεχώς ανακύπτουν κατά τη διάρκεια μιας επιχείρησης. Οι σκηνές δράσης είναι οι πλέον απαραίτητες, όμως ο συγγραφέας καταφέρνει να κρατήσει την αγωνία σε υψηλά επίπεδα, μέχρι το πολύ κυνικό φινάλε. Οι περιγραφές των διαδικασιών, των διαφόρων καταστάσεων και των σκηνικών, είναι πάρα πολύ καλές, κατάφεραν με περισσή ευκολία να με μπάσουν στον ασπρόμαυρο κόσμο των κατασκόπων. Επίσης οι διάλογοι είναι καλοδουλεμένοι και φυσικοί, ενώ και οι χαρακτήρες είναι αρκετά καλά σκιαγραφημένοι. Ουσιαστικά για λεπτομέρειες δεν του βάζω πέντε αστεράκια (ίσως τα κρατάω για άλλα βιβλία του συγγραφέα που θα διαβάσω στο μέλλον).
Υ.Γ. Το βιβλίο κυκλοφόρησε αρχικά στα ελληνικά από τις εκδόσεις Bell, με τον τίτλο "Η ιστορία δεν επαναλαμβάνεται", ενώ μπορεί να το βρει κανείς πάμφθηνα από τις εκδόσεις Καστανιώτη, με τον τίτλο "Η ώρα των κατασκόπων".
November 6, 2019
This is the third in the George Smiley series even if he does just feature in it and does not play a big part in the story-line.
This about a small part of the intelligence services in competition with its big sister-service "the Circus". After they lose one of their borrowed transporters due to a "accident" and the film this agent should have veen carrying they want to mount an operation of their own to show that they are still capable and that the big boys and girls are really overrated.
They are planning and training an operative to enter East-Germany in order to find out what the Germans of Russians are really hiding, this with the Cuba crisis clearly on their minds. They want to run the operation completely outside of the Circus knowledge.
An interesting book of men playing spies and the consequences that such behaviour can have. It is George Smiley at the end who has to close down the operation before it really started.
In a sense a complaint about those men who still live in their fantasy-world after the second world-war with their own small departments that still believe they matter and can change the outcome of conflicts while stumbling more or less blindly through the real world. A bleak and scary world were men can chose matters that they consider important over real life.
A really interesting and different view of the world of spies and certainly not as glamorous as the cinematic 007, buy perhaps closer to the real world of spies. le Carre does deliver a different insight that is just as spellbinding as the Fleming novels are, both show different sides. And le Carre's version of spies is indeed less enchanting and inviting, but has a real feeling of normality even the morality does feel wrong.
Well worth you time if you feel up to some interesting reading and storytelling by somebody who can draw you into the darker underbelly of spy-craft.
This about a small part of the intelligence services in competition with its big sister-service "the Circus". After they lose one of their borrowed transporters due to a "accident" and the film this agent should have veen carrying they want to mount an operation of their own to show that they are still capable and that the big boys and girls are really overrated.
They are planning and training an operative to enter East-Germany in order to find out what the Germans of Russians are really hiding, this with the Cuba crisis clearly on their minds. They want to run the operation completely outside of the Circus knowledge.
An interesting book of men playing spies and the consequences that such behaviour can have. It is George Smiley at the end who has to close down the operation before it really started.
In a sense a complaint about those men who still live in their fantasy-world after the second world-war with their own small departments that still believe they matter and can change the outcome of conflicts while stumbling more or less blindly through the real world. A bleak and scary world were men can chose matters that they consider important over real life.
A really interesting and different view of the world of spies and certainly not as glamorous as the cinematic 007, buy perhaps closer to the real world of spies. le Carre does deliver a different insight that is just as spellbinding as the Fleming novels are, both show different sides. And le Carre's version of spies is indeed less enchanting and inviting, but has a real feeling of normality even the morality does feel wrong.
Well worth you time if you feel up to some interesting reading and storytelling by somebody who can draw you into the darker underbelly of spy-craft.
December 17, 2022
Can anyone tell me why Goodreads permit the publication of pathetic one star reviews?
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