Customer Reviews

The Mission Song

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1 star:		(5)

 

 

Since the days of "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy" and "The Little Drummer Girl," I've followed le Carre's novels with heightened interest. Of late, however, he's lost me with an unfocused style. I picked up "The Mission Song" with skepticism.

Thankfully, I found here a story of undeniable appeal. The first-person narrator, Bruno Salvador, is an interpreter with an uneven marriage and on secret assignment with the British. His personality is more naive, more humorous and satirical, than most of le Carre's protagonists, lending the novel a lighter tone that still manages to make scathing remarks about western politics. The Bush and Blair administrations both get low marks here, and high-minded, white colonization is shown to be a greedy and violent proposition. Bruno, caught in a tug-of-war between his native allegiances and his British ties, must face the truth and consequences of his assignment. Is one secretive coup really intended for Eastern Congo's good? Or is there a more self-seeking motive behind the financial investment of the nebulous Syndicate?

Although we the readers never really doubt the motives of all involved, it's hard not to be swept along with Bruno's romantic (somewhat thinly drawn) and politic questions. This is a conflict that could relate to African scenarios two centuries ago or a decade in the future. It's a timeless tale, told with unflinching social remarks, while still remaining an entertaining story. Le Carre remembers to treat us as fiction readers, and not simply as a gathering of politicos. Once again, my interest is renewed, and I look forward to his next project.

In Le Carre's latest thriller, an expert interpreter of various African languages learns of a nefarious plot involving the Congolese government. At first I was intrigued with the fact that the protagonist Salvo is an interpreter. Nice twist, and I have some experience in both interpreting and in African language study (Swahili). But the narrator is so obsessed with his status that it becomes both distracting and annoying. Consider, for example, the following excerpts from the book: "I am...by profession a top interpreter of Swahili," "the code of your top interpreter is sacrosanct," "Never mistake, please, your mere translator for your top interpreter," "my top interpreter's ear," "your top interpreter responds without premeditation," "Salvo the top interpreter is there beside them," and there are many more. I mean, Come on!

A major portion of the book (maybe a third) takes place at a meeting of Congolese elites and European mercenaries making plans. The meeting drags on forever, and with the exception of a brief interlude of torture, it gets pretty tiresome. No action, no interesting suspense. In fact, it reminds me of many meetings I've attended (some of which have taken place in Africa); but that doesn't make it interesting writing. The plot doesn't really pick up until the last third of the book. At that point, it moves along at a decent clip.

The prose is okay but nothing special; I made the mistake of listening to this audiobook immediately after Jumpa Lahiri and before Margaret Atwood, two masterful wordsmiths. Lastly, some information at the end of the book leaves the reader feeling that much of the book was completely futile, which felt totally unsatisfying. All in all, the book had its moments and some interesting twists and turns along the way, but I was unimpressed. If you want to read a good Le Carre book about Africa, stick with The Constant Gardner.

Metacritic, a website that collects professional reviews, found the following mix: 6 reviews found the book to be outstanding, 9 favorable, 2 mixed reviews, and 8 unfavorable. So the professionals, on average, liked the book a little better than I did.

I listened to the unabridged audiobook narrated by David Oyelowo (published by Hachette Audio). Oyelowo is a British actor of Nigerian descent. He does the African voices well, but some of the European voices sounded strange.

In terms of objectionable content, the book is chocker-block full of strong language and contains a little bit of sex and violence. And, of course, people trying to rip off some Africans at the expense of the lives of others.

"The Mission Song" is a great book, somewhat along the same lines as "The Tailor of Panama". John le Carré depicts the harsh reality of some of the human species' least admirable traits, presenting them as seen through the eyes of loveable but misguided and idealistic individuals. And despite the tragedy of the situation he maintains a positive and often humorous tone.

I was planning on writing a full review of "The Mission Song", but after reading the wonderful review by Philip Caputo of the Washington Post (see above under Editorial Reviews), I figured that it would make more sense to simply recommend that review.

"... corporate giants that know no boundaries, moral or geographical", remarks Mr. Caputo, and he's hit the nail on the head. One wonders sometimes of our future, when all of the raw materials have been plundered and the environment destroyed.

I do have a few remarks about the audio version of "The Mission Song", read by David Oyelowo, a British actor of Nigerian descent. When I started listening to this book I was thinking, "what a poor reader, it sounds like he's half-asleep!" Very dull and almost monotone, especially at the very beginning.

It turns out that this was an intentional technique. Bruno "Salvo" Salvador tells the story in the first person, and at one point he remarks that he is proud that he has made his English as characterless as possible, so nobody will think he's trying to sound upper-class or as if he belongs to any particular group of Englishmen. Furthermore, once you get to the end of the story you realize that there is a good reason why Salvo tells the story in a rather tired and depressed voice.

But the amazing thing about David Oyelowo's reading is the dialog. As soon as anybody other than Salvo is talking he comes alive, and his rendering of the many African and English dialects is fantastic. I was totally blown away listening to The Mwangaza telling of his dreams for the Congo. Here's where a good audio book is far better than the printed version.

In summary, "The Mission Song", like "The Tailor of Panama" (also highly recommended), is not a spy story. It is a story about human character and how we humans create our own tragedy, and the optimistic attitude we need to survive this truth. We end up thinking, "Good luck, Salvo", and good luck to us all.

Rennie Petersen

I have marveled for years at Le Carre's skills, but, as other reviewers have noted, his post-Cold War novels have necessarily changed from the George Smiley books that originally hooked me. The characters have become more predictable (Salvo especially) and, as le Carre has become more overtly political in his writing, he has lost the ability to surprise the reader. His worldview predestines the course of the story, and within a few pages the reader can pretty much predict the direction of the tale, if not the actual ending. That's a sad departure from the early novels, when, without ever resorting to cheap plot twists, le Carre would effortlessly turn the plot on its head in a single phrase, leading the reader on a relentlessly fascinating and utterly unpredictable wild ride. There are still glimmers of the master's brilliance in this work, but the fun is gone.

The Mission Song may be destined to be one of le Carre's best. Tightly written with terrific characters, logical story development, and a plot that keeps you guessing, The Mission Song will make you glad you spent the time to read it.

Bruno Salvadore (Salvo to his friends) is a believable character who is sympathetic on one page and exasperating on the other. Born in Africa of a Congolese mother and Irish priest father he was educated in a private school and early on shows a talent for languages. He eventually ends up in England, married, and working a regular job using his skills as a linguist but also works for the British Secret Service. He ends up overhearing a conversation that he would have been better advised to ignore and therein lies his problem.

The story is an examination of the plight of Africa and its people. Controlled by small minded local politicians or criminally insane warlords, the continent is rich in minerals and other raw materials. It is the exploitation of these resources by a fictional syndicate that drives the story.

Wonderfully paced the story is economically crafted with no wasted parts.

My favorite le Carre novel has to be The Spy Who Came In From the Cold with Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy a close second. The Mission Song is a fitting continuation of a literary career that spans more than three decades.

You'll be glad you read this book.

I almost gave up on Le Carre after "Absolute Friends." To me, that book was little more than a political screed; one that might better have been trimmed down to two or three pages and submitted to the author's opinion journal of choice. Instead, he bogged down what might have been a compelling op-ed piece with all manner of extraneous characters, plot details, and the like. Those merely detracted from the unrelated, main purpose of the book.

But as someone who has read every word Le Carre has ever published in book form, I couldn't resist buying Mission Song. I'm glad I did.

Le Carre does not hide his political views in Mission Song, but they are not the book's reason for existing, either. Mission Song truly is Le Carre at his best -- this work stands comparison with the "Quest for Karla" trilogy and "A Small Town in Germany."

I have long thought that Le Carre, on his worst day, was considerably better than anyone else who has ever written novels involving intrigue and espionage. This book, though, is Le Carre at his best, and therefor a novel that transcends any genre.

Bravo to the author, and welcome back!

John Le Carre has returned to his study of human nature and the corruption of organized governments and multinational corporations. The looting of the Congo during a conference in London is somewhat similiar to his theme of exploitation by pharmaceuticals companies in "The Constant Gardener." The author has written a "talking" thriller as opposed to Hollywood's action thrillers. His "hero", Bruno Salvador, has an unusual family history and flaws of his own. Choices need to be taken by all involved on whether they will sell their souls and therein lies the pleasure of this novel.

A typical protagonist of Le Carre's learns to smoothly and cautiously operate in the dangerous world of clandestine activities, though that is not to say that they do not stumble. Bruno Salvador on the other hand, of mixed-race origin from the eastern Congo and a renowned interpreter of many African languages and dialects despite his relative youth, occasionally monitors conversations for the British secret service from a secure location with no need to gain sixth-sense perception skills necessary for survival.

Salvo, as he is called, very recently hooked up with a nurse and native of the east Congo Hannah with whom he shares a love for his homeland. In an amazing coincidence Salvo is tapped to act as a translator at a secret island for a meeting of several parties wishing to install a president in the eastern Congo for purposes of bringing stability to the region. That involves east Congolese warlords and business interests, an unnamed syndicate that will provide development funds, and other facilitating officials including dirty tricks operators. Somewhere in the midst of Salvo congratulating himself on his superb performance for the cause of the eastern Congo, he discovers that things are not as they have been made to seem - extracting wealth being of far more interest to the syndicate than the building of infrastructure.

There is a lot of vintage Le Carre in the book, of course: the descriptions, actions, and language of these shady characters. Salvo seems to be as aware of his situation as far as he can and certainly that what he has learned must be concealed. And that is why it is so puzzling that he jeopardizes his own and Hannah's well being in assuming that the masters pulling the strings of this meeting are as idealistic as are he and Hannah.

The book lacks the substance of Le Carre's great novels of the past. The remote island meeting lasts interminably with numerous rounds. Salvo's naiveté is unconvincingly far too evident. For veterans of Le Carre's work, the book may be a little disappointing but still worth reading. For the uninitiated reader, this is not a good sample and will not be that appealing.

I have been a big fan of LeCarre novels, and I usually purchase his books as soon as they come out, without bothering to read any reviews. Recently though, I have been gravely disappointed.
The Mission Song is a sad departure from his clever and dynamic mystery and spy novels. The characters are bland and uninteresting, the plot is quite obvious, and the lengthy passages describing articles of clothing and surroundings are extremely boring. When certain characters go into page upon page of lengthy political diatribes, you get the sense that you are watching an oratory by a self-serving United Nations or White House demagogue on C-SPAN.
Let's not forget the ridiculous, sub-par, love novella sub-plot that should have no place in a thriller by such a high caliber author. Who are we kidding?
To sum it up - I've painstakingly labored through half of the book, and am considering throwing it out the window unfinished.

Among his numerous authorial attributes John Le Carre also has the ability to create affecting, unforgettable protagonists - add Bruno Salvador, known as Salvo, to that list.

Born "the accidental son" of an Irish Catholic missionary and a teenage Congolese woman, he was consigned as a baby to the care of Carmelite nuns. Shortly after, his mother decided that three months of the nuns' tough love were more than enough for her, so she escaped "at dead of night by way of the bath-house roof." She returned to her family all of whom were soon killed by an enemy tribe.

Life, merely existing was a challenge for Salvo but he gained an education at a mission school and later, with the help of his mentor, Brother Michael, learned how to be a professional interpreter in minority African languages.

As our story opens he is in England, married to Penelope, an upper class white woman and a star reporter on a major newspaper. It was not a match made in heaven as "Illegitimate sons-in-law of mixed race do not merge naturally into the social fabric of wealthy Surrey, and Penelope's parents were no exception to this time-honoured truism." Penelope is often busy, tracking a lead story, too busy it seems to Salvo. That's not the case with Hannah, a lovely, sympathetic Congolese.

Salvo is pleased when he's assigned to translate at a top secret conference between leaders in the Congo and a mining syndicate. It is here that he learns of the machinations and politicking that go on in closed door sessions. He realizes that the information he has gleaned could mean further disaster for the country of his birth. But, what can he do?

The Mission Song is a captivating story written by a master. It is rich in achingly lovely pictures of Africa and chilling in descriptions of torture. His characters are unforgettable, etched in our minds by the pen of an author who, as someone has said, "raised the contemporary spy novel to the level of fine literature."

- Gail Cooke