John le Carre’s name
is always associated with a specific genre, the spy novel. But this has not
stopped him from writing some of the great novels of the twentieth century.
Given he was writing about one of the great facts of the twentieth century, the
cold War, the clash between civilisations, the West, the Communists, the
Terrorists, his books give an insight and ponder they way we were living in
that era – and indeed, still live.
His greatest creation
is undoubtedly George Smiley. Fat, short, old, academic, intellectual, and
cuckolded he is indeed the anti-Bond. But as a Bond novel or a movie is an
entertainment for a few hours, time spent with Smiley is time spent considering
the nature of our society, its flaws, its strengths and what we will do to
defend it, or what we will not do. Which are not ideas that evaporate quickly.
While le Carre’s plots
are byzantine, the power of his novels come from what Graham Greene, in one of
his spy novels, called the human factor. Who are these people who put
themselves on a shadowy front line, commit themselves to a life which means
that they can never be truly secure even in their own home, or competely honest
with anyone? Which is why a story like Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy can be re-read even when you know already who that spy
is. Le Carre loves watching the watchers, and he shares that fascination with
us.
I have recently
re-read what is known as the Karla trilogy (aka The Quest for Karla or in its latest incarnation Smiley versus Karla): Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, The Honourable Schoolboy and Smiley’s People. The first is easy found
in bookstores and libraries due to the recent, very good film. The latter two
it seems are either found in second-hand bookstores or in bulky volumes
carrying all three novels.
I borrowed one of
these from my local library, and it has two disadvantages. One, its bulk makes
it uncomfortable to read on the couch or in bed, and too large to sit in your
backpack all day if you want to make it your commute read. Secondly, one feels
compelled to read them through one after the other which may become like having
too much of anything, slightly sickening and leaves one, as Basil Fawly
remarked, wanting less. This compulsion is exacerbated when you have access to
the book for only three weeks.
Luckily, I was only
reading two novels, and the tone changes between both. The Honourable Schoolboy ranges from London to Hong Kong and is
mainly concerned with Jerry Westerby who is a part-time agent chosen by Smiley
to follow a lead of Karla’s money being funnelled to a Hong Kong bank. (Le Carre has said it would have been a
better story if he had not made it a Smiley novel. Perhaps he is right.) Smiley’s People is a more intimate
story, Smiley following up on the murder of an old agent, which leads to his
second direct confrontation with his nemesis Karla. It does form a satisfying
trilogy, all the more so because Karla remains unknowable, even to Smiley, and
so the strongest conflicts remain those between friends and colleagues.
In the 70s, the BBC
televised Tinker Tailor and Smiley’s People, but The Honourable
Schoolboy was too expensive to film, and though important was not essential to
the duel between Smiley and Karla. The producers of 2011’s Tinker Tailor look like going down the same route. And I have to
say, Alec Guiness is still the essential Smiley to me. While Gary Oldman gave a
great performance, physically he is all wrong. Still I don’t suppose this keeps
him or his producers up at night.
Le Carre’s novels
revel in the moral murkiness of espionage, where the good man may have to do
bad things for a noble purpose. And ultimately that man’s soul is a casualty of
the conflict. In The Honourable Schoolboy, Smiley states his faith:
To be inhuman in defence of our humanity he
had said, harsh in our defense
of compassion. To be single-minded in defense of our disparity.
of compassion. To be single-minded in defense of our disparity.
