The Spy Who Came in from the Cold by John le Carre

When I embarked on the challenge of reading all eight ‘Smiley’ novels by John le Carre, I wasn’t aware that I’d be reading The Spy who Came in from the Cold fifty years after it was written. The Cold War may now be part of modern history, different kinds of conflict now dominate the newspapers and the internet. Nevertheless, the grim, gritty battles that we associate with espionage are probably continuing, and not necessarily with entirely new protagonists. Although it is beautifully written, this is a dark novel, pregnant with gloom and foreboding. Yes, it is a psychological battle between Leamus and Fiedler and Mundt but they are proxies for the dirty war between East and West, between the ideologies of communism and capitalism. I was in Berlin in 1961 shortly after the Wall appeared and was even taken through Checkpoint Charlie to visit the outrageously opulent Soviet War Memorial, it was the only opulent thing in the Eastern Sector at that time or so it seemed to me. Everything else was a uniform grey, and this greyness seems to pervade the novel, everything that happens seems to happen in the shadows, light is at a premium except at the very end when massive arc lights illuminate Leamas’ final coming in from the cold. A masterpiece of the thriller genre and a must read for those who wish to engage with Europe in the 1960s.

Ancient Greek Literature by Tim Whitmarsh

A first class introduction to the literature of Ancient Greece. I was fortunate to have a working knowledge of about half the ancient texts referred to in the book before tackling it, and I believe that it was made more understandable because of that. However, no writer can be totally neutral politically, and Whitmarsh does seem to have a political agenda although we are cautioned against imposing out modern sophistications onto ancient ways of thinking. The sting comes in the final chapter and it is a challenge: ‘Literature, as a category of culturally privileged, specialist discourse, often preserves itself for society’s dominant groups.’ He might almost be saying that knowledge of literature is the great divide in society and led me to speculate whether ignorance [of the literary canon or archive] is bliss or something to be encouraged in the masses so that they are never able to threaten the privileged position of the elite.

Lorne Doone: A Romance of Exmoor by R D Blackmore

A romance written during the mid-late 19th century set on the fringe of Exmoor in the late 16th century. The gentle giant, John Ridd, farmer and loyal son delays revenge on his father’s killers, the notorious Doone clan until, in adulthood and knighted, he is persuaded to lead a party of vigilantes to wipe out the clan. Lorna, it transpires is not Lorna Doone but the Lady Lorna Dughal, a wealthy heiress agrees to marry Sir John, and eventually they live happily ever after. I say eventually because there is much adventure and anguish before peace finally breaks out. A rip-roaring tale with some difficult regional dialect, much of it at the very beginning and thus quite off-putting, but the reader’s perseverance is rewarded, and is soon into an engaging romance with many twists and turns before matters are finally settled. This yarn offers a small insight into the confused and bloody politics of the day. Loyalty to King and country and to one’s family and friends is made much of, as is the brutality of the suppression of the Duke of Monmouth’s rebellion and the extermination of its perpetrators by the terrible Judge Jeffryes. All human life is here and I am puzzled why I haven’t read it before my 68th year, it is at least as good as the books of similar ilk by Sir Walter Scott, if not better.

(This charming illustration was done by the American illustrator, Mead Schaeffer, in 1930)

The Balkan Trilogy by Olivia Manning

Well over a thousand pages, three volumes in one, and strangely riveting for the interested reader. Olivia Manning demonstrates great skill in description of place and people, her characterisations are funny and perceptive and depicted with both strengths and weaknesses. Harriet Pringle meets and marries Guy Pringle over a three-week period while he is on leave before being posted to a position with the ‘Organisation’ in Bucharest on the outbreak of WW2. Manning’s description of society and its descent into chaos are both moving and quirky. The Ruritanian politics and the snobbery of the various elites, both foreign and local, are related with subtle mockery, particularly the academic snobbery of the British community. The slow build up of tension as the time of evacuation approaches and the sudden disappearance of some of the characters is telling.

Many of the British evacuated from Bucharest as the Germans occupied the country find themselves together again in Athens with all their individual prejudices intact and a stark contrast is drawn between the solid, uncomplaining stalwarts like Guy and Dobson, and the nefarious hangers-on such as Lush and Dubedat. When Greece itself becomes embroiled in the war, successfully beating back the Italian forces but then quickly succumbing to a more clinical German assault even with the help of an undermanned and ill-equipped British-led expeditionary force, Harriet and Guy are evacuated once again, this time to Egypt, but it is all touch and go and beset by the stupidity of ‘class division’.

The trilogy describes war from the civilian point-of-view, an interested but powerless civilian with all its terror, pain, sadness and pointlessness, and is particularly poignant in recounting the sudden demise of the Pringle’s most unreliable friend, Prince Yakimov. As ever, money talks, and those with money talk loudest in their own best interests. Manning has created a wonderful evocation of a certain type of Englishness at a particular moment in history, full of eccentrics, scroungers, scoundrels and snobs, a largely bygone age but one that deserves to be remembered. Particularly interesting is the way Manning uses the character of Harriet with all her insecurities to reveal some of the minor characters, for example: ‘Looking at Sophie’s well developed bosom, Harriet felt at a disadvantage. Perhaps Sophie’s shape would not last, but it was enviable while it lasted.’ Manning has a equally perceptive eye for weak men: ‘Glancing up, Harriet found Clarence’s gaze fixed on her. He looked away at once but he had caught her attention. She noted his long, lean face with its long nose, and felt it unsatisfactory. Unsatisfactory and unsatisfied.’ Clarence becomes her companion of sorts, someone to talk to when Guy is busy with work, but like Sasha and later, Charles, their company is preferable to being alone, they are condemned as inadequate and immature. No other man can measure up to Guy with all his obvious faults.