Customer Reviews

Blood of Victory

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(16)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(9)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

Alan Furst is a good argument for simply drifting through bookstores. I had never read him before but found his writing so interesting that I am now looking for his other six novels.

In "Blood of Victory," Furst creates an émigré writer who has fled Stalin's Russia and is living in a Nazis occupied Paris. He is safe but oppressed. It is 1940 and the German-Soviet Pact is still working. Occupied Paris is not a happy place.

We first encounter I.A. Serebin boarding a boat from Romania to Turkey and find one of the interesting realities in modern civilization; travel is essential. For countries to operate people must travel and so even in a dictatorship, passage is possible if the right papers can be acquired. Ultimately, Serebin is convinced to help the British attempt to block the Danube, preventing German access to the Romanian oil that is key to their remaining both militarily and industrially functional.

Seeing the world from Istanbul, Bucharest, Paris and Belgrade shortly before the 1941 German attack is a new twist on the Second World War in the tradition of Eric Ambler and other spy chroniclers.

This is an intellectual's book (I hope I have not hurt its sales with that phrase) that carries you into a world of smart, reflective people living lives as refugees, intellectuals and activists trying to accomplish something. It is your experience of their personalities and their interactions in interesting and exotic settings, not the James Bond style heroics, which carry the book.

It is worth reading for the portrait of the fight between the Iron Shirt fascist movement and the Romanian dictatorship and, in a very Ambler-like tradition, it has vivid believable scenes of street fighting and random civilian casualties that feel all too real.

"Blood of Victory" has proven Furst is worth getting to know and I have already found two more of his works for the near future

This is the fifth of Furst's seven WWII espionage novels I've read, and not one of his best. To be sure, it has all the trademarks of his work: good writing, dedication to period detail, oppressive and dreary atmosphere, exotic locales (Paris, Istanbul, Odessa, Belgrade, etc.), a middle-aged loner protagonist caught up in the espionage intrigues of the time, love interest, a blurry web of operatives. But that's the problem-if you've read a few of his books, you've basically read this one. The characters (especially the heroes) in his books are all starting to run together rather distressingly, and he's over-reliant on atmosphere to carry the minimally plotted stories. What's worse is that the pace of this one is absolutely glacial, there's barely any thrill in the thriller!

The gist here is that in 1940 the Allies are desperate to interdict German access to the vital Romanian oil fields. Having tried to sabotage them once before, they're faced with a tough problem. Paris-based Russian émigré writer I.A. Serebin is drawn into a plot to resurrect an old spy network in an attempt to strike a blow. However, Serebin's recruitment into this venture is never really convincing, and the weaving of the plot is so oblique that it's hard to get drawn in. It's as if Furst is so faithful to building the shadow world that his characters live in that he's forgotten about the reader. Which is not to say this is an awful book or anything, just that he's written better and might benefit from straying a little further from the European theater he's set seven books in.

This is one of those novels that stays with you for weeks after you've finished it. Like any novel by John LeCarre, you have to work at an Alan Furst novel. It doesn't necessarily come easy.

With the poetry of James Burke at his fingertips, and the haunting portrait of Europe under fire, the truthfully global loss of innocence, Furst begins with a tale that is fascinating for rich, human characters, then for the geography, and finally for the plot. It reminded me of those grainy photographs taken in European train stations in the mid 1930's when people literally ran for their lives.

Ilya Serebin is not interested in war, but as Trotsky wrote, "war might be interested in [him.]" And it is.

On escape from beseiged Russia and communism, torn between a safehouse in Paris and his conscience, reluctant to leave a dying lover and a new one playing the deadly game he has been ante-upped for, Serebin is recruited by the OSS to asssist in a "cockleshell heroes" attempt to block the oil route ('oil, the blood of victory' from which the title is taken] from Romania to Nazi Germany.

It is a classic WWII novel of love, betrayal, confusion and sadness. Despair. Melancholy. I can't recommend Alan Furst enough. He may not be your cup of tea or shot of vodka because of the subject matter, but his writing is brilliant. You get a feel of "real" to the story.

Alan Furst has a long-term lease on the espionage shadow world of Europe in the late 1930's and World War Two. "Blood of Victory" is another strong entry in his sequence of novels set in that world (a "sequence" is more appropriate than "series" because, with one exception, all of Furst novels involve different leading characters, although the books do share some secondary characters and certain locales, including the notorious Table 14 at Paris's Brasserie Heininger). Ilya Serebin is a Russian exile writer who finds himself recruited to work against the Germans in France and the Balkans. The secondary characters are marvelously, if efficiently drawn, aiding or obstructing Serebin's uncertain quest. Imagine a movie in cinematic black and white (and infinite shades of grey), perhaps with Peter Lorre and Sidney Greenstreet in supporting roles, and you have an idea of the atmosphere in a Furst novel. Nothing is ever clear-cut, no-one is ever impossibly heroic. But the places and the people seem very real.

The Second World War has begun in Europe. Russian émigré I. A. Serebin, a writer who fled Stalin, is living in German-occupied Paris when he is approached by Hungarian spy-master, Count Polyani, for help. Polyani wants to attack Romania's oil-fields, perhaps Germany's most important resource. Serebin, no fan of the Germans, agrees to participate in the mission, one that the British have already tried and failed. For everyone acknowledges that, for Germany, the Romanian oil is "the blood of victory."

"The Blood of Victory" is typical Alan Furst. The focus of the action is Eastern Europe, a theater of the Second World War that is usually ignored in the Anglo-American-centered fiction that populates the genre. The bulk of the setting here is Romania, during a time of great civil unrest as the anti-Semitic super-nationalist Iron Guard seeks to take control of the country. The protagonist, in this case Serebin, is a man without a country, surprisingly altruistic given the circumstances, given an unlikely opportunity to make a difference in the war, and seizing it readily, even though it means he will be in the thick of the Romanian civil war. And finally, there is an underlying sense of inevitable failure that underlines the whole proceedings. The reader "knows" that there is nothing concrete that Serebin is going to do that will change the outcome of the war. The war continues and grows, and Serebin goes largely ignored by history, despite his most deliberate efforts.

While Serebin is a perfectly likable character, the real draw of a Furst novel is painstakingly detailed settings and the dark, pessimistic mood the author creates. The reader has a complete and beautiful picture in his mind of the various places Serebin goes in his quest. Lost to time and war, these places almost spring from the book, fully-formed, complete and undamaged, just as they were in 1940. But each of these places seems to exist almost in perpetual night as the reader envisions them. Of course, the fact that much of the action of the novel happens at night provides a partial explanation. But just as importantly is the context of history. Europe was, metaphorically, in a dark night for the war. Romania would begin a period of history where it was ruled by tyranny of one kind of another for decades, even after the war was over. Whether it was Furst's intent, indelible imagery of cabarets and desperate night-time escapes stand as metaphors for the war and the horrors to come.

As others have noted, "Blood of Victory" is one of Furst's more "action-packed" novels. Serebin, after a period of vacillation in the early pages of the book, quickly agrees to the plan to disrupt Romanian oil supply, and spends the remainder of the book preparing and executing his mission. As opposed to Furst's previous novel, "Kingdom of Shadows", there is a true sense of an overarching plot, where everything that happens has a reason. While Furst does stray into esotericism, he does so sparingly, keeping Serebin's eye on his goal. Most importantly, Furst does instill within the reader the foolish hope that history "could" go better, if only Serebin can succeed.

If Furst has a weakness in this book, it is the relatively flat character of his protagonist. Serebin is sympathetic, but not particularly distinguished. Unlike Furst's first novel, where the protagonist had much growing to do, Serebin comes to the reader as formed as Furst needs him to be to carry the story. Serebin is not particularly flawed. He possess little in the way of self-doubt, is altruistic, which one would expect such a person to be, given the circumstances. While the reader doesn't want Serebin to die, nor does the reader ever feel Serebin to be "real" in the way the reader would like. On the other hand, Serebin is always still more flesh-and-blood than they are cardboard, and so the reader does enjoy following him through his mission.

In many ways, "Blood of Victory" is a perfect example of what makes Furst a good writer. The mood is heavy and tense, the action quick and vivid. The characters are likable, if not memorable, people trying save the world one way or another. Perhaps this quixotic hope is the most important thing Furst has to offer.

I start reading Alan Furst's books not in the last place because it describes events closely linked to Russian history. I will not comment on the literature qualities of the books as it may be subjective. But I must warn anybody who might take in earnest the picture of Russia as it is depicted by Mr.. Furst - it is not even close to reality. Some of the funniest blunders are listed below (page numbers are given by the Random House h/c edition):
- (p. 7): "He was ... a decorated Hero of the Soviet Union, Second Class" - there was no such thing as "Hero of the Soviet Union 2-nd class". One could get the Hero more then once instead. There were many cases of two or even three times Heroes, mostly among fighter pilots, who were awarded the title on explicit numerical basis, i.e. for enemy planes brought down
- (p. 14) "...and to eat salted herring and drink Armenian Champagne" - There was no such thing as Armenian champagne, nor there is now. The popular product from Armenia was not champagne but brandy that as they said was a beverage of choice of Winston Churchill. As for the champagne, the best Russian mark comes from Crimea. Besides, the salted herring, being undoutbfully popular among Russians is never eaten with anything else but ice-cold vodka straight
- (p.157): "Take a squad", the captain said... - "My sergeant saw it ..." - at the time of Civil war, there were no officer's ranks in Red Army. Those in command were referred as "commanders": platoon commander, battalion commander, etc, and those were frequently abridged. So a person in command of an army was called "Comandarm", etc.
- (p.220) "The Mannlicher was nice and heavy, ...he...managed to release the magazine" - that should be really not a small achievement, as the magazine of Mannlicher pistols, as well as its Mauser's analog, was not detachable. The loading was done from above through the opening behind the barrel chamber
Apart from the listed factual errors there are several of more general sort, I would say, conceptual ones. For example:
- The hero was a Jew and a communist. To find such a person among functionaries of Russian emigration was as probable as a Negro among KKK bosses in Alabama. Anti-Semitism was one of the staples of White Russian ideology, not to speak about anticommunism. I would not approve it - but it is an undisputable historical fact.
- Mr. Furst's characters move to and fro USSR borders freely. In practice approximately after 1925 it was practically impossible to leave Russia. One can refer for this issue to the memoirs of Bazhanov who was Stalin's secretary in the 20-s. He managed to escape only using his high position and the history of his escape could be a novel much more gripping than any of Mr.Furst,s ones.

This list is far from complete and deals only with the Russian realities. I am sure that Turks, Frenchmen, Romanians and others can find more mistakes. We can even compete in finding the most funny blunder of Alan Furst. Let't have fun!

This is the first novel that I have read of this author's work in hardcover. "Blood Of Victory", is the newest work from Alan Furst, and it follows the issue of all of his previous novels in soft cover format. I have read all of his tales and have found him to be a very solid, consistent writer. His publisher is amongst the shrillest when praising and promoting his work, and I do not know that this helps. Whether or not Alan Furst joins the ranks of writers like John LeCarre is up to readers not his publicist.

All his previous works have included questions for discussion at the book's end; this book does not although I would guess the soft cover will. One of the points that have always been raised is that the protagonist in his books always is alive at the end of the novel. I believe this is becoming a problem for Mr. Furst does not write about the same character in a series of events, rather a variety of characters experiencing events in a common time period. His stories inevitably include great risk to his primary characters, and when he removes the possibility of the mortality prior to the book's start, he removes an element of suspense. Since his genre involves clandestine work prior to and including World War II, the missing element cannot fail to become a handicap. He also has several reference points that he mentions in many if not all his books. While these elements are repeated they are not critical to a given book, but they can cause a reader to feel they are out of step with some crucial detail or event.

The plot this time centers on the oil fields of Romania, their critical importance to the German war machine, and the variety of attempts to prevent the flow of oil via the Danube. This issue was very real during both of the 20th century's world wars, and Alan Furst uses these historical events to very good advantage.

Mr. Furst has an excellent command of the political history of his chosen time period, and this makes for credible reading that is also well crafted by a talented pen. I have enjoyed his books and will continue to read his work in the future. I hope that he decides to allow for more uncertainty in his work, and by doing so maintain a higher level of tension for his readers.

BLOOD OF VICTORY is one of three novels--which take place in Europe just before and during World War II--by Alan Furst that I've read to date. Furst is a master of mood, scene and historical detail, and though the plots are somewhat loosely assembled, he manages to build considerable narrative conflict and dramatic excitement nonetheless. His is a very cerebral historical espionage fiction. Furst doesn't write sex scenes well, for instance--unless, of course, his intent is not to be the least bit salacious. (So why does he seem to start every novel with one?) He is quite expert, on the other hand, at rendering a moment of high tension; a would-be execution scene, for example, or a narrow escape.

This particular story takes its time to draw you in. The cast of characters and the number of settings for such a relatively short book is unexpectedly large: I don't suggest that you try to read this a bit at a time, you'll forget who's who, and where you are. Eventually, you'll get caught up in the story in any case. The storyline seems almost anachronistic: it focuses on a plot to deny the Nazis ready access to oil. Furst is totally convincing in rendering this as plausible; after all, the need for oil to fuel the war machine was clearly not simply a late 20th century requirement.

But there are other seeming anachronisms throughout the book. The novel was apparently written after the horrors of 9/11 and during the build up to war in Iraq. Had Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld read this novel with its references to "Old Europe" and passages like, "You fight with what you have" (p. 234) prior to referring to France and Germany as "old Europe" and coming up with lines like "you have to go to war with the Army you have. . ." ? I spotted Bushisms as well. Did Furst just happen to capture the Zeitgeist? In BLOOD OF VICTORY, Furst captures all the uncertainties of the milieu of occupied France then as well as, perhaps, the latter-day Iraq situation. This may or may not have been a conscious decision, but it added further interest to the novel for me.

BLOOD OF VICTORY was by far not the best of the three Furst novels I've read to date, but the story redeemed itself with me as I persevered through the early pages. (Yeah, it's not good when you have to "persevere" through a sex scene, eh?) But I do not mean this to be a tepid review. This is still a very good espionage novel, well worth your time.

I read the author's "Polish Officer" about 3 years ago and remembered it as very good, so when this came into view I grabbed it with delight - but unfortunately, it's neither very good nor a delight. It's mediocre. Both Graham Greene and Eric Ambler write low-key spy novels, but they really excel in character development. Furst seems to be a stickler for historical, cultural and political details but misses in the character area - the author should be able to show/tell me why these people are willing do what they're doing. It's not there.

More than anything else Alan Furst recreates the atmosphere of the early days of World War II espionage. I.A. Serebin inhabits the urbane world of Russian emigres in the Europe of 1940-1941, mainly in Paris, but also in Roumania. Serebin is recruited into what seems to be the British secret service and seeks to interrupt the flow of Roumanian oil to the Nazi war machine. The whole operation reeks of amateurism - appropriate enough at that stage of the war - brainy, careful, daring, but amateur. With one exception, none of the players know completely what they are part of - which also leaves the reader at times groping for the story line. Still Furst's prose forms the characters into full-dimensional beings from Bogart's Casablanca or Graham Greene's Human Factor.

Highly recommended for readers with an interest in espionage or WW II.