Customer Reviews

Secret Pilgrim (MM to TR Promotion)

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Ned, the narrator, is nearing retirement from the British Intelligence, or "The Circus" as it is known. The book opens on the occasion of the traditional informal dinner that celebrates the end of the training of a new class of spies-to-be who will be among the first to operate in the post Cold War environment. Ned, who has been in charge of their training, has invited his already retired mentor, George Smiley, to speak at the get-together. To Ned's surprise, Smiley has accepted.

All this is in the way of setting the scene for the series of reminiscences that make up the meat of THE SECRET PILGRIM. Smiley, who has attained the status of a legend in the service, keeps the students entranced for hours and his comments trigger a life time of memories in Ned, who has been one of the Circus' key players in a forty year career that covered most of the Cold War years.

One of Ned's earliest experiences, in the final phase of his training, was when an older hand kept him from making a career ending faux pas. He misread a situation and believed that a member of a visiting Royal's retinue was an intended assassin. Ned, who was anxious to show off his new found skills was about to jump the "assassin" but was prevented from doing so by the more experienced agent. This was a learning experience that he never forgot.

As the evening progresses we share more of Ned's memories with him. One is when a murder is made to look like a suicide, and false evidence is left that was meant to discredit Ned.

At another time, almost every group of spies that he is "running" are betrayed, and a number of innocent people are thought to be the betrayers. The source of the betrayals remains a mystery until one of the top men in the Circus is found to be the traitor.

We go through many other life threatening, and occasionally humorous, escapades with him. As is frequently the case in Le Carre's novels, the deskbound, high level, decision makers run the gamut, from the rare competent and dedicated individuals, to the more common politically motivated self enhancers who build their own careers with no thought to the jeopardy in which they are putting their field agents.

The evening ends, and we accompany Ned as he passes the final days before his retirement.

With three days left to go, he is given one last assignment. He is charged with convincing a rather unpleasant multi-millionaire to stop providing armaments to various participants in conflicts throughout the world. These armaments are sold through an interlocking chain of corporations which he totally controls. Because of the international complexities of these corporate structures, the armament sales are technically legal. Unhappily for Ned his efforts are rebuffed. It is at this point that he remembers Smiley's old aphorism about the right people losing the Cold War but the wrong people winning it.

If you've never read Le Carre, this book should whet your appetite to go back in time and read his "Smiley" books. If you have read other of his books, I can't think of a better way to wrap them up.

And probably still be enthralled. The man has one of the most engaging, fluid, and delightful prose styles of anyone I've ever read. When it's connected with a powerful story (such as the books of the Karla Trilogy) the result is overpowering. When combined with leftovers from that era the result is...still a damn good read. What stops it short of a great read (4 stars) or a masterwork (5 stars) is one simple problem: Ned's stories (in fact the character himself) isn't anywhere near as interesting as George Smiley. Smiley's presence in this book actually detracts from the stories. It's like dropping Luciano Pavarotti into a men's choir. You're so busy trying to hear *him* that you can't enjoy the rest of the music.

Anyway, this is not a novel, it's a collection of short stories. Very good short stories. Brilliant not only for their intrigue, but simply for their literary quality. You do have to get past a few Le Carre trademarks (a tendency towards glibness, and a seeming inability to create female characters who are more than just surface), but these are less flaws than simply elements of the Le Carre style. You won't notice them as you're reading the stories. You won't notice much of anything else, either; these stories are completely engrossing, the kind that have you up until the wee hours telling yourself "just one more...ok, two more."

The Secret Pilgrim, however, does suffer from focusing on the wrong character, "Ned" instead of George Smiley. It's not a big problem, but at some points during my reading I found myself saying "hold on, let Smiley tell a story!" Who among us wouldn't have preferred a collection of short stories about the Master instead of his Acolyte? A tale or two of Smiley's days in Germany during the War, a Haydon story (or three), a sidelight on what he was doing while working on the Dolphin case (Honourable Schoolboy), and--greatest lack of all!--more information on Karla's debriefing after "Smiley's People." Talk about someone who would have some stories!

I sincerely hope that, before he retires from the writing game, Le Carre revisits some of his characters from the Karla Trilogy. A collection of stories about Smiley, Karla, Haydon, Control, and even young Peter Guilliam would be most welcome. It's not that his newer work is bad, just that it is completely overshadowed by his earlier work.

RstJ

In my teaching past, I came to love some of the great writers -- Shakespeare, Homer, Dante, Faulkner. I can now add John Le Carre to that list. Over the years, I have kept coming back to him, especially the cold war epics involving George Smiley. These books have come to be known as the "Karla" novels, named after Smiley's Soviet nemesis and master-mind of betrayal. Having passed, however, through a "spiritual search" and having been subsequently dulled and fatigued by the numbing routines of work, I have, nevertheless, in order to occupy my mind with something other than the details of the job, returned to the soul searching of this novelist, who now appeals to me even more than when I was young and obsessed with meaningful pilgrimages. And now here is The Secret Pilgrim. As the title suggests, its theme is the hidden journeys that cannot be explained by a routine narrative but must be felt, or more accurately, lived.

Written in 1990, after the collapse of the Soviet empire, The Secret Pilgrim spans the thirty years of cold war spy life from the point of view of a single agent recollecting his own observation of the moral ambiguities and soul-destroying ambitions that have become the hallmark of Le Carre's writings. In the background, George Smiley, the main character in his previous cold war novels, represents a man who survived the wasteland of underground service to his country (England) by accepting his inner ruin as a natural byproduct of spying. He became a model of how deception can be accepted as the essence of spy life by hiding the betrayals that have scarred him behind a wisdom and competency that allowed him to survive the cultural insanities of his time.

Although Le Carre has many times shown his characters trying to redeem themselves through love, one small chapter in The Secret Spy shows how far one must go in order to address a truly broken soul. It shows us a love so absolute that it alone can imply the kind of destruction that lies behind our deepest defenses. Those who have read Le Carre over the years have understood his spy stories as a metaphor for the human condition -- each of us in search of a truth that always destroys what it is we are looking for.

Chapter Nine.

The infamous Berlin Wall was torn down in 1989, and the thirty year long undeclared cold war declared at an end. A year later, in 1990, "The Secret Pilgrim," British spy master John Le Carre's thirteenth book, was published. LeCarre, with his first-hand spy experience, had penned the cold war masterpieces "The Spy Who Came in from the Cold," and the Smiley-Karla trilogy "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy," "The Honourable Schoolboy," and "Smileys People;" he used this book, basically a collection of short stories that opens as the Berlin Wall has been up only two years, to look back. It was his first published post-cold war novel, and a magisterial summing-up of the secret war that was. Le Carre, had been, of course, an actual British spy, for five years, under his birth name, David Cornwell. According to internet biographers, he was, in fact, embedded in Soviet territory when he was blown by Kim Philby, most celebrated of real-life British secret-service traitors. Being unmasked was not fatal to Le Carre, as it had been to others, but it was certainly fatal to his ability to work in the field.

The author sets much of "The Secret Pilgrim," as is his custom, in his German-speaking comfort zone. Particularly in Berlin, "the spy's eternal city," he calls it. He uses as his narrator "Ned," a shrewd, loyal, long-term employee of Le Carre's fictional intelligence service, modeled on the real one. Here, as elsewhere in his writings, the writer calls this service the circus, from its London digs. Ned is currently teaching new recruits at Sarratt, its spy school, on his way to retirement; he's thinking about the secret pilgrimage of his life, spent in the service, wondering whether it's done him, or the world, any good. He invites George Smiley, the heart of the circus, to speak to his students.

The book is certainly episodic; that may annoy some readers. But it has the author's usual virtues, unbeaten spy craft, strong descriptive and narrative writing, complex, if brief, plots. Resonant characters, given good dialogue, a sturdy moral context. As it's told in third person flashback, the action may be a bit anemic for some. But it gives an informative summation of the exciting Smiley-Karla years, when Smiley was chasing the unknown traitor in the circus's ranks, the "mole," as Le Carre termed the man, a usage that stuck. The author gives us "before the fall," as the circus called it, and offers new views of the circus's great knights of old: Smiley and his ever-unfaithful wife Ann; Bill Haydon, whom Smiley unmasked as the black knight; Peter Guillam, Tobe Esterhase. And "after the fall," picking up the pieces, we get precious new nuggets from the author's world. Ned is apparently the desk jockey who ran Barley Blair, central figure of the novel "Russia House." Ned tells us "we were trying to do a deal on him, but Barley wouldn't go along with us. He'd done his own deal already. He wanted his girl, not us."

Several of the component short stories stand out. An early one about Ben Cavendish, the narrator's oldest friend, who joins the circus with him, makes a small,silly mistake, and runs away from its awful consequences. A later one about the Lithuanian Captain Brandt and his beautiful girlfriend Bella, whom Ned eventually shares. The high-ranking Polish Colonel Jerzy, who finds his own way to the service. And Hansen, big, fair Scandinavian, active in Indochina during the Vietnam War; Ned calls Hansen, deep in the Cambodian jungle, his own Kurz, communicating from his own heart of darkness, as in Joseph Conrad's memorable book of the same name. Finally, there's poor Frewin, lonely Foreign Office cypher clerk, with all security clearances, seduced into Russia's service by the early morning radio language lessons of Boris and Olga. And that was the war that was.

I was given this book as a birthday present, otherwise I probably never would have read it, since I am not a fan of spy fiction (other than the kind that appears in the factual espionage genre). I am very glad, however, that I did read it. "The Secret Pilgrim" represents the best of both worlds, since it is actually a dozen short stories tied together within the framework of a novel. The latter depicts George Smiley, the Old Cold Warrior, acting as guest lecturer to a group of young "Circus" recruits, who are learning their tradecraft from one of his old pupils, Ned (who is himself about to retire). Each of Smiley's topics during the lecture and the conversation afterwards triggers Ned's memories and, therefore, his reminiscences about old cases.

The short stories serve as an excellent introduction to the author's earlier works, since Ned, in his adventures, has dealt with the likes of Bill Haydon, Toby Esterhaze, and Percy Alleline, as well as George Smiley--all of whom make cameo appearances. The tales are entertaining, witty, and wholly absorbing, as one gradually learns that the narrator is the pilgrim of the title on a quest to discover why he ever entered the secret world in the first place. Once he had imagined himself as a dragon slayer, who would leave the world in a "safer place." Now, however, that rampant Communism has been replaced by rampant Capitalism, the narrator wonders whether the right people have won, noting that "the evil was not in the system, but in the man" (334-35).

"The Secret Pilgrim" is set in a very different world from the original Smiley books. George Smiley is now presiding over the "Fishing Rights Committee," a joint effort between the intelligence services of London and Moscow.

How Kim Philby would have approved!.

In 1990, a year after the Berlin Wall was torn down, and the thirty year long cold war declared at an end, "The Secret Pilgrim," British spymaster John Le Carre's thirteenth book, was published. LeCarre, with his first-hand spy experience, who penned the cold war masterpieces "The Spy Who Came In From The Cold," and the Smiley-Karla trilogy "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy," "The Honourable Schoolboy," and "Smileys People," used this book, basically a collection of short stories that opens as the Berlin Wall has been up only two years, to look back.

The author sets much of it, as is his custom, in his German-speaking comfort zone. Particularly in Berlin, "the spy's eternal city," he calls it. He uses as his narrator "Ned," a shrewd, loyal, longterm employee of LeCarre's fictional intelligence service, modeled on the real one. Here, as elsewhere in his writings, the writer calls this service the circus, from its London digs. Ned is currently teaching new recruits at Sarratt, its spy school, on his way to retirement; he's thinking about the secret pilgrimage of his life, spent in the service, wondering whether it's done him, or the world, any good. He invites George Smiley, the heart of the circus, to speak to his students.

The book is certainly episodic; that may annoy some readers. But it has the author's usual virtues, unbeaten spycraft, strong descriptive and narrative writing, complex, if brief, plots. Resonant characters, given good dialogue. As it's told in third person narrative, the action may be a bit anemic for some. But it summarizes the exciting Smiley-Karla years, and offers new views of the circus's great knights of old: Smiley and his ever-unfaithful wife Ann; Bill Haydon, whom Smiley unmasked as the black knight; Peter Guillam, Tobe Esterhase. And we get precious bits and pieces more. Ned is apparently the desk jockey that ran Barley Blair, central figure of "Russia House." Ned tells us "we were trying to do a deal on him, but Barley wouldn't go along with us. He'd done his own deal already. He wanted his girl, not us."

Several of the short stories stand out. An early one about Ben Cavendish, the narrator's oldest friend, who joins the circus with him, makes a terrible, silly mistake, and runs away from its awful consequences. A later one about the Lithuanian Captain Brandt and his beautiful girlfriend Bella, whom Ned turns out to share. The high-ranking Polish Colonel Jerzy, who finds an unusual way to the service. And Hansen, big, fair Scandinavian, active in Indochina during the Vietnam War; Ned calls Hansen, deep in the Cambodian jungle, his own Kurz, communicating from his own heart of darkness, as in Joseph Conrad's memorable book of the same name. Finally, there's poor Frewin, lonely Foreign Office cypher clerk, with all security clearances, seduced into Russia's service by the early morning radio language lessons of Boris and Olga. And that was the war that was.

This is one of my favorite Le Carre books. I admit that there are a few parts that may be dry, like the beginning, but other parts definately make up for it. I love that there are several stories that all tie up. This book reveals different aspects of the life of a spy. Makes you think about the job from different angles. I would recommend it to those who have the patience to get through a good book.

Mr John LeCarré, with Len Deighton, is tops at writing about espionage and he deserves mention in the history of English literature of this century. I have all his books in my personal library. They all denote an insider's knowledge of the espionage world, the right dose of skepticism about human nature, tongue-in-cheek, sense of the plot, mastery of the language, eclecticism. The only flaw may be found in a pervasive melancholy and pessimism: there is never sun in these books, only a uniform and pervasive grayness - but I guess the world he describes is of that colour. However, he is one of the most entertaining writers I ever found and I always look for new production of his whenever I enter a bookstore.

This is a recollection of a spy about to retire. Each chapter is a more or less independent episode, so you can read one at a time. Admittedly it is a recycle of materials from his past novels (e.g. the protagonist's trip to Bangkok to find his agent in Cambodia no doubt comes from research done for the novel "The Honourable Schoolboy". But the usual le Carre class is here, and his fans would not be disappointed.

The brief last chapter puts a nasty but brilliant twist to the novel, and it also serves as a brave challenge by the author to write spy novels of the present day. It is just too sad that le Carre has failed badly in his subsequent noves. With this novel, we may well have seen the last of his talent sparkle.

"The Secret Pilgrim," British spymaster John LeCarre's thirteenth book, was published in 1990, a year after the Berlin Wall was torn down, and the 30-year long Cold War was declared at an end. It was his first published post Cold War novel. LeCarre, who penned the Cold War masterpieces "The Spy Who Came In From the Cold,"and the Karla trilogy, "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy," "The Honourable Schoolboy," and "Smileys People," uses this book, several short stories cobbled together, that begin as the looming Berlin Wall has been up only two years, as a magisterial summing-up of the war that was.

The author sets much of it, as is his long-standing custom, in his German-speaking comfort zone, particularly Berlin, "the spy's eternal city," he calls it. The book is narrated by "Ned," a shrewd and loyal long-term employee of LeCarre's fictional intelligence service, modeled on the real one. Here, as elsewhere, LeCarre calls this service the circus, from its London location. Ned is currently teaching new recruits at Sarratt, its spy school, and contemplating retirement. He's thinking about the secret pilgrimage of his life, spent in the service, wondering, as is typical of the author, what it has gained him, or the world. He invites the "eminence grise" of the circus, George Smiley, to speak to the recruits.

The book is episodic; that may annoy some people. But it has LeCarre's usual writerly virtues, unbeaten spycraft, strong descriptive and narrative writing, complex, if brief, plotlets. Resonant characters and dialogue, a sturdy moral context. It is written in flashback, so the action may be a bit bloodless for some. But it gives an informative summation of the Smiley-Karla years. "Before the fall, " as the circus calls it, when Bill Haydon, its secret counterspy, mole in the terminology LeCarre created, is still burrowing from within. And "after the fall," picking up the pieces. And it offers new views of the circus's great knights: Smiley and his unfaithful wife Ann, Haydon, Peter Guillam, Tobe Esterhase. To Le Carre fans, it's all catnip. We even get an unexpected bonus: Ned is apparently the desk jockey who ran Barley Blair, star of "Russia House:" think Sean Connery. Ned reminisces about Blair, "We were trying to do a deal on him, but Barley wouldn't go along with us. He'd done his own deal already. He wanted his girl, not us."

Several of the component short stories are particularly memorable. An early one about Ben Arno Cavendish, Ned's oldest friend, who joins the circus with him and thereafter makes a little mistake with terrible consequences. A later one about the Lithuanian Captain Brandt and his beautiful girlfriend Bella -- also Ned's. A tale about Colonel Jerzy, high-ranking Pole, who finds his own way to Ned. And Hansen, the big, fair Scandinavian, active in Indochina during the Vietnam war: Ned says Hansen, deep in the Cambodian jungle, is his own Kurz, communicating from his own heart of darkness. Finally, there's Frewin, lonely Foreign Office cipher clerk, with all security clearances; seduced into Russia's service by the language lessons of Boris and Olga on early morning radio. This is the war that was, indeed.