Customer Reviews

Stamboul Train: An Entertainment (Penguin Twentieth-Century Classics)

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A young Jewish currant magnate who is only "a Jew" to Europeans; a virginal chorus-girl who is perceived only as a "nice pair of legs"; a newswoman who hates men for their arrogance; a self-impressed murderer; and a fugitive Communist leader are all riding a train whose ultimate destination is Istanboul. Greene skilfully weaves their stories together and apart, forcing the reader to ponder questions about love, sex, duty, and morality.

I've read a number of Graham Greene's more acclaimed and "serious" novels and had a variety of reactions, from "loved it!" ("The End of the Affair") to "couldn't get through a chapter" ("The Quiet American"). But none of these prepared me for "Stamboul Train." Modestly described as an "entertainment," and later more or less dismissed by its author, this novel turned out to be, truly, one of the most amazing and moving books I've ever read.

This is an early novel, but there's nothing raw about it. The characters are superficially "stereotypes," but the book turns out to be about the power that externally prescribed roles possess, in life as well as art. Each of the characters, from Myatt the "rich spoiled Jew" to Coral the plain, innocent chorus girl, turn out to be something different from their types, yet they're never wholly able to escape from them. I can't think of an author, except possibly Tolstoy, who does a better job conveying characters who believe two (or three or seven) things at the same time than Greene does here.

Greene does employ stereotypes, particularly of Jews and lesbians, and that might be one reason the book is out of fashion. Yet Greene explicitly grapples with and explodes the stereotype, in the case of Myatt. Even the lesbian lady journalist, who doesn't fare as well (Greene's portrayal of her borders on mean-spiritedness) is so richly characterized and individual that she takes on a life beyond the stereotype.

I haven't even touched on Greene's innovative use of point-of-view - a multi-faceted third-person, with sudden shifts hardly united by an overarching consciousness. The effect mirrors the way these "strangers on a train" slip in and out of each other's lives. It also produces one of the most amazing bedroom scenes I've ever read.

And if the last line doesn't break your heart, I'll give you your money back -

A sad cynicism lies at the root of Greene's dark humor in this very early (1932) novel, Greene's fourth novel and the first entertainment to be written and published for a wide audience. A Jewish businessman, a lesbian journalist, her rebellious young companion, a dancer in need of a job, a Socialist physician wanted in Serbia for treason, and an Austrian thief meet and interact aboard the Orient Express on a trip from London to Istanbul (Stamboul). Each person in this motley group hopes that some remarkable change will occur to him or her as a result of the trip, but though all eventually get their wish, fate has something devious up its sleeve for each one. These twists and turns, sometimes humorous and sometimes immensely sad, constitute the heart of the novel.

Unlike Greene's later novels, with their fully developed characters and religious themes, this novel's characters are often stereotypes, and the action is often designed simply to bring the characters down, showing that no matter what dreams or goals they may have, that ultimately they have no control over their destinies. Greene's later, much more intensely realized themes--sin and atonement, innocence and guilt, love of life and fear of death, piety and corruption, sex and religion--are missing here, and as the action unfolds and the characters are manipulated, the reader easily recognizes the "bones" of the themes which will later come into full flower in Greene's mature philosophical novels. As a series of tours de force, and as a glimpse into the creative process of a writer who, at this point, was just beginning to come into his own, this is an intriguing novel, loaded with insights, a fascinating and enjoyable read. Mary Whipple

This is Greene's first such "entertainment". I read this work only after having read much of Greene's other work. Unlike many of his pieces ("The Power and the Glory", "The End of the Affair", 'The Heart of the Matter"), this particular work does not focus particularly upon the moral nature of the actions. If you come to this expecting something of the depth of one of the aforementioned pieces, you shall likely emerge disappointed.

On the other hand, this is an intensely suspenseful, quick, and pleasant read. The story lends itself perfectly to a rainy afternoon: set upon the Orient Express, this is the no-frills (as is typical of Greene's style) telling of the interactions between Myatt, the Jewish businessman, Coral Musker, the incredibly naive chorus girl, and the Doctor, an exiled revolutionary. While lacking the moral resonance of Greene's later work, this is still a fun and deserving piece.

what amazes me is how much information greene crams into 215 pages. how much suspense he packs in. and how artfully he weaves the stories of his several characters. not only that, he rounds it off with a sensational twist that leaves you pondering how bitter-sweet life really is. for lovers of mystery, and especially those who love the romance of "the orient express", it's a great way to kill a few hours.

Boarding the Orient Express to Istanbul are the Jewish merchant Myatt; a busybody Lesbian yellow-journalist named Mabel Warren; a mysterious doctor who calls himself Richard John, but who is actually the Serbian socialist agitator Czinner; Mrs Warren's soon to be ex-protege Janet Pardoe; and a penniless chorus girl named Coral Musker.

It all sounds like an Agatha Christie novel -- but Greene had different fish to fry. Just when the story seems to take on a Dame Christie neatness, it all comes unravelled at the little border town of Subotica. Musker, who had found in Myatt a potential sugar daddy, tries to invite the Doctor to a celebration, but is whisked away as an accomplice to Czinner. Myatt at first searches for Coral, but is drawn to Janet Pardoe's greater classiness. And Mabel Warren, who had left the train at Vienna, suddenly shows up in Subotica to claim Coral Musker for her own.

There are a few other characters, such as Josef Grunlich the Austrian thief; but my favorite is the purser at Ostend who cries out to Coral Musker, "Remember me!" even as he begins to forget her features.

We are not dealing with a deep work like Greene's later, more serious efforts. Instead of a Shakespearean tragedy, we have on our hands instead a tragicomedy like ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL or MEASURE FOR MEASURE. Dr Czinner is executed, and everybody else seems to change partners as if it were a game of Musical Chairs.

Graham Greene says it all when he quotes George Santayana in STAMBOUL TRAIN's epigraph: "Everything in nature is lyrical in its ideal essence; tragic in its fate and comic in its existence."

Not a lot I can really add to some of the other fine reviews posted on this classic light novel, which consolidated Greene's reputation as properly interesting and versatile. Attempting a more cinematic approach, this story does use stereotypes, and the exposure of characters to random scenarios that only travel can present...where distilled, reflective lives are put on hold with their thoughts and dreams...Greene's roving, penetrating insight that is so worthwhile, moves the book beyond becoming dated or too old-fashioned.
What else will you find beyond the sheer knowledge of humanity..... the occasionally penetrating, timeless tone of world-weary, often forlorn and wisened prose, woven around the hearts of these vastly different but inter-linked characters? ....well, self-sacrifice and selfishness, assumptions and presumptions and hypocricy, need and love and class and discrimination.....It is all here disguised and yet surfacing suddenly and transparently, wrapped up in the thoughts of its time and day, but shocking us still in its provocation of how much we must all surely be wrapped up...in our own time.....Hopefully attitudes have changed, our minds more open, our dreams a little less selfish....

Stamboul Train was the novel that made Graham Greene's name. Published in 1932, it catalogues a train journey that, a few years later, would have been impossible, a journey across Europe that was about to be changed for ever. The novel is set in a time when the Orient Express travelled from Western Europe to Constantinople across several borders, each of which that presented its own different challenge. Seventy-five years ago the continent was neither bifurcated by ideology coupled with allegiance of necessity, nor united by a desire for greater capitalist integration. It was also not a stable place, with the short-lived tensions of the Treaty of Versailles less than fifteen years old. To reflect this, Graham Greene presents Stamboul Train as a journey, almost a travelogue, with the setting of each part offering an informed relevance to the action. So we progress from Ostend to Cologne to Vienna to Subotica to Constantinople.

The book is highly cinematographic in character and is cast as a tangle of almost separate stories acted out by characters that mingle along the way. People join and leave the train. There's a love affair in a sleeper. A Jew is on his way to do deals in currants. A wanted criminal boards and leaves. A young thing is on her way to a job as a dancer. There's a political refugee fomenting revolution in his homeland. There's a lesbian journalist seeking to interview a famous popular writer. Stanboul Train is clearly not the eight fifteen from Pinner. Or maybe it is...

The action is both on and off the train as the characters' stories weave together to create a novel. And it is possible to read the book as an almost linear story, where everyone, as in a soap opera, is pre-occupied with their present to the exclusion of all other time. But Graham Greene goes further than this and gives us vignettes of political, historical and social comment. Miss Warren's interview with Savory, the writer, is an example.

Savory the writer is playing a part of being a writer. He has made his name selling books written from a Cockney point of view, at the time a euphemism for a down-to-earth, working class, perhaps therefore honest perspective. But Savory is unsavoury. His Cockney credentials are false, since he was born in beautiful Balham, far south-west of Bow Bells, and he claims an aspiration to achieve a re-creation of Chaucer's spirit to counter the gloom and introspection of modern fiction. But Savory reveals himself to be "a man overworked, harassed by a personality which was not his own, by curiosities and lusts, a man on the edge of a nervous breakdown." And Miss Warren, his interviewer, hates dealing with the impersonation that is stardom, the necessity to deal with another person as a commercial creation, a lie in the form of an advertisement. She earns a living from writing about such people, but yet she despises consumerism for its own sake, derides its pulpy products. She yearns to tell Savory that his books are rubbish, destined for the dustbin as fickle taste moves on, reorders consumer sentiment to ridicule its current eager choice.

And here, perhaps, we have Graham Greene revealing his own self-destructive, self-abusive darker side. He feels as unsavoury as Savory, producing these entertainments just to sell books, to make money, to indulge in his weaknesses. But what Greene's deprecatory self-analysis apparently did not like to admit was that he was always doing more, much more than this.

As an "Entertainment," "Stamboul Train" is quite entertaining. Graham Greene writes with a strong sense of humor as he describes an interesting assortment of individuals riding the Orient Express across Europe to Istanbul. Though there isn't much of a plot, the odd and unpredictable occurs on this journey. Greene develops his characters to the point that the reader can't help but eagerly wonder how each individual will react to the many bizarre encounters on and off the train. Not one of Greene's better known works, but a pleasure to read nonetheless.

I find Graham Greene to be almost unreadable. I know that this is going to be considered near blasphemous, since literary critics have heaped such praise upon him and so many reviewers here have done likewise.

However, in a word, I find him depressing. His characters suffer from interminable analysis of their every thought and action. The larger story is merely a vehicle for these internal monologues that, frankly, I don't find particularly insightful or interesting. It was V. S. Pritchett who first remarked about Greene's 'perverse and morbid tendencies'. While Greene is no doubt highly intelligent and capable of a very high level of writing, the end result, for me, is something very unpleasant.

I first read 'The Heart Of The Matter'. God, what an endlessly depressing scene! Nor was there any particular character I could sympathize with or even care about. In spite of my negative reaction to this highly praised work, I thought I would give him another try with 'Stamboul Train' (a.k.a., 'Orient Express'), thinking that in this 'entertainment' as Greene called it I would actually be, well, entertained. Instead, I get a trainload of depressing characters whose every thought is scrutinized to an excruciating degree.

Example (from Myatt's suspicions about his business dealings):

'It was odd. He had chosen the samples with particular care. It was natural of course that even Stein's currants should not all be inferior, but when so much was suspected, a further suspicion was easy. Suppose, for example, Mr. Eckman had been doing a little trade on his own account, had allowed Stein some of the firm's consignment of currants, in order temporarily to raise the quality, had, on the grounds of that improved quality, indeed, induced Moults' to bid for the business. Mr. Eckman must be having uneasy moments now, turning up the time-table, looking at his watch, thinking that half Myatt's journey was over. Tomorrow, he thought, I will send a telegram and put Joyce in charge; Mr. Eckman shall have a month's holiday. Joyce will keep an eye on the books, and he pictured the scurrying to and fro, as in an ants' nest agitated by a man's foot, a telephone call from Eckman to Stein or from Stein to Eckman, a taxi ordered here and dismissed there, a lunch for once without wine, and then the steep office steps and at the top of them the faithful rather stupid Joyce keeping his eye upon the books. And all the time, at the modern flat, Mrs. Eckman would sit on her steel sofa knitting baby clothes for the Anglican mission, and the great dingy Bible, Mr. Eckman's first deception, would gather dust on its unturned leaf.'

Lord have mercy. This stuff is like fingernails on a chalkboard!

William Golding called Green 'the ultimate twentieth-century chronicler of consciousness and anxiety'. This does not, however, make for entertaining reading. Greene's writing is an examination of the human condition totally devoid of lightness, humor (at least as I understand the word) or romance. His characters are an unpleasant, unhappy bunch.

Ultimately all his writing reveals is the real Graham Greene.