A Murder of Quality

A Murder of Quality, by John Le Carré
146 pages

To read this book after you've read some of Le Carré's later works, specifically the Karla trilogy or the Spy Who Came in from the Cold, is to feel as though you're in spinoff territory.  That's because in A Murder of Quality, Le Carre's most known and beloved recurring character - the grounded, unassuming and observant George Smiley - is not putting his wits towards some brilliant espionage action, or rooting out a mole in MI6, but spending a weekend looking into the murder of a woman at an insular England boy's school.  The result is not bad at all.  A Murder of Quality, Le Carré's second novel, is a decent, light read, but lacks the intensity and potent intrigue of later works.

Le Carré's prose is as clear, descriptive, and elegant as always.  He also does a wonderful job of fleshing out the full snobbery of the staff at Carne, the school in which the murder takes place.  He weaves together plot twists with a nascent intricacy that becomes a fully realized staple in later books, but in the end, I just didn't care as much about what happened here.  The book's saving grace is George Smiley. Those who've been introduced to him in one or other of Le Carré's novels have likely developed a fascination with him and how he goes about solving problems.  At times he's like a still, much less flamboyant version of Sherlock Holmes; he politely asks the questions, and shuffles about with what we speculate is an assumed diffidence, while working it all out behind his "owlish" spectacles.

It's a short read, so you won't regret the time spent, and it's a pretty decent book.  It's simply outshone by most other works of Le Carré.

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, by John Le Carré
224 pages


I read this book a few years back, and just finished revisiting it.  Nothing's changed, it's still awesome.

Alec Leamas is a spy for the British Secret Intelligence Service during the Cold War.  Operating from Berlin, all of his agents in Eastern Germany have been neutralized, and now he heads back to London  to spend the remainder of his service as a washed-up paper-pusher.  The director of the Circus, as it is colloquially known,  has another proposition for Alec - an operation to take down the ruthless head of the East German intelligence service.  What follows is a deftly executed and thrilling spy procedural, emphasizing a war of the minds rather than devolving into the gung-ho gadgetry contemporarily associated with spy fiction.

The author, John Le Carré, actually had a career in the British intelligence apparatus.  Contrary to what I would prejudge about the writing ability of someone who spent his life in government bureaucracy, Le Carré has true literary talent.  I cannot overstate how well this story is written.  The prose is clear, descriptive, and focused - meaning he never digresses into exploring extraneous characters or sub-plots, nor does he attempt some greater geopolitical moralizing.  I appreciate that.   What I appreciate more is Le Carré doesn't underestimate the intelligence of the reader; he utilizes a subtle, ironic tone to indicate that things aren't as they appear to be.  The third person narrative doesn't give us a full picture of what's going on, but rather places us right next to Alec in a cloudy world of deception and compartmentalization where we as readers are at times necessarily "lost", just like Alec is.  Never is being "lost" a deterrent or frustrating, because the plot unfolds suavely and yet brutally, like a gentlemanly interrogation, each layer of deception being peeled back beautifully until we reach a climactic moment of revelation that absolutely has to be experienced to be appreciated.  It's genius. 

I cannot say enough good things about this book.  I unequivocally recommend it.