Film, Literature, & the Human Condition

I cannot reveal too much about the master John le Carre’s superlative espionage novel, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, for I would be guilty of a crime unforgivable in the sanctum of literature. To even take a chance at ruining a first reading of this book is a sin of the most contemptible sort. But I will tell you why it cannot be touched in the pantheon of Cold War fiction. The first point to sell is le Carre himself, who is a credible authority in the field having worked for the British Intelligence around the time the Berlin Wall went up. He knows what he is talking about and depicts the life of a spy as only an insider can know. We all have our own impressions of spies from other novels and films, but there is nothing glamorous or romantic about secret agents. On the same level, there is nothing so vigorously cold or hardhearted about them either, as is the alluring cliche of a spy in most entertainments. Instead of a ruggedly handsome figure in expensive clothes, we get a disillusioned, middle-aged protagonist in a stained overcoat. A man whose fragile emotions are real and have to be suppressed in wake of all the violence and subterfuge that is his life. (continue reading…)