In the world of literary spy fiction I doubt few names have ever carried as much weight as that of John Le Carré. A man who devoted over fifty years of his life to writing books that depicted the world of a spy as gritty, unglamorous and betrayal-ridden, that at the time of his early work was a stark contrast to the novels of Ian Fleming’s James Bond series, despite the two often being put side-by-side due to their impact on the genre. Le Carré’s fans may have included people like Stephen King, Margaret Atwood and Ian McEwan (and me), but my own history with his books is much like some of his plots, a little more complicated than it may seem on the outside.
It all began in 2016 with a few TV and film adaptations like the two Smiley stories the BBC adapted with Alec Guinness in the lead role, the 2011 Gary Oldman film and The Tailor Of Panama soon followed. From the summer of 2016 to the middle of 2017 I consumed a formidable amount of Le Carré’s work, many long stretched-out hours were given to the Smiley books as well as some of his standalone works like The Night Manager and A Delicate Truth. With this newfound fondness for the work of Le Carré that had been instilled in me it only made sense that I would seek out more of his adaptations, which I did, not just through film and TV but also audio adaptations.
At the start I would like to think that the attention I gave Le Carré’s work was motivated by genuine enthusiasm. But by the time the summer of 2017 had arrived my sentiment towards his books had shifted into a less than ideal place. I’d gone from being passionate about the books to, if you asked me at the time, I would have called John Le Carré boring and gave no thought to the idea of reading another one. I remember when 2016 was coming to a close I had a list of three that I wanted to tick off my list, that were: The Little Drummer Girl, The Russia House and The Constant Gardener. The last of which was the last Le Carré that I read for some time before getting into the work of writers such as Patricia Highsmith, Agatha Christie, Ian Fleming and Thomas Harris, all fine writers in their own right and just about all of them have at least one book that I enjoyed and treasure the memories of reading to this day. I don’t think I necessarily turned on Le Carré, just that I was seeking out other writers now and there were bound to be some that I would personally hold in higher opinion. Nothing was going to change that fact that I used Call For The Dead to take up most of the time on a long drive to Blackpool and enjoyed the experience, and I remember a minor but real feeling of surprise with the ending of The Spy Who Came In from The Cold.
Le Carré didn’t need to me to have successes or bring out new work as not only did he publish his memoirs in 2016, but he also did A Legacy Of Spies, another novel in the Smiley universe and then in 2019 he released a book called Agent Running In The Field. I knew about these but had no real desire to read them, as far as I was concerned I’d keep some of his work but as for the rest, Le Carré was a writer I used to like but didn’t any more, which was fine with me. I did get a bookmark promoting Agent Running In The Field, which was unexpected but it’s still around now.
I think it was while in lockdown in 2020 when that started to change. I was looking for something to read and likely for lack of things to choose from I landed on what would become the first part of a biography of Le Carré by Adam Sisman that I got at WH Smith for half price along with The Spy. I read it and a few months later when I turned twenty-one and among my presents was a paperback copy of Agent Running in The Field.
I may not have paid too much attention to his work at the time but I do remember it was late one night in December 2020 when I found out that Le Carré had died. It would be reasonable to assume that would mean that there would be no more new books with his name on them. You would expect that, but it soon became clear that some people had other ideas and a slew of new work came the public’s way, there may have been 2021’s Silverview which was another fiction work but what I think surprised me was what came from his death in the way of non-fiction. Alongside the memoirs (which I admit I did eventually catch up with) Sisman brought out the second part of his Le Carré biography The Secret Life Of John Le Carré which went into detail about the various affairs that he had throughout his life and one of his mistresses Suleika Dawson published her own memoir about him titled The Secret Heart. Penguin, who published his other books, also published a collection of letters. I can assume his hardcore fans may have taken all of this in the best possible stride but another way to look at it would be that with him dead, publishers would want to squeeze all they could out of Le Carré’s name and anything that he may have preferred to have stayed secret about him could now be known to the public.
Everything about the publishing of new books with the familiar Le Carré name came to a head in 2024 with the release of Karla’s Choice, a new Smiley book that was obviously not written by Le Carré but by Nick Harkaway and was to be taken as a continuation novel. Such novels are nothing new as the same has happened with the Bourne and Bond books, some of which I’ve read and been impressed by in some ways, but what made Karla’s Choice worthy of attention was the fact that Harkaway wasn’t just another writer, he’s Le Carré’s own son, which when I get round to it should mean that I’m in for an interesting time.
I read most of the new books and apart from an attempt to celebrate five years of getting into his books in 2021 I think it was with Silverview that Le Carré clawed his way back into my life. It wasn’t 2016 any more, the situation was different, but things would always happen the same way. I’d come across a Le Carré that I hadn’t read yet, take my less than pleasant feelings about his work that I’d had into account and try to read and enjoy it with the best of intentions, even with feelings of tediousness were far away and the point of my finishing a Le Carré recently has always been followed by a brief sense of relief that I can now make way for something else.
Sometimes I do wonder why I allow this to happen. It’s as if I never seem to learn that apparent lesson that I don’t enjoy these books, not in the way that I enjoy others. I’ve made it clear that I’ve been far from fond of his work since 2017 and yet I continue to let myself be drawn back in time and time again and let his work have any kind of influence on my life. I’ve thought about it and for the best possible answer I have to go back to that day in July 2016 when I bought the two Smiley books. At the time I was treating the idea of them with trepidation that it could either go well or not, and of course it went well and impacted my life in a positive way. I think what happened is that my memories of those days have been picked out as a pivotal moment in my life and that is the goodwill in which the Le Carré name continues to have good associations for me. I know it may sound odd to some people and be difficult to explain but it’s the best explanation that I’ve got.
There was a moment not too long ago that was a definite wake-up call to the fact that Le Carré’s role in my life was not over yet. I was talking with a relative about books and while I don’t remember how I did it, I steered the conversation to Le Carré and he talked of a desire to see what one of his books was like. So I disappeared into a shop that I knew had Call For The Dead stocked, I bought it and gave it to him as a surprise present for which he was very grateful. I don’t know what others would say on the matter but I think it is the ultimate sign of interest in an author’s work that you have no problem recommending it to others.
Looking back over all this I may sound like a cliché but I would hope that I found Le Carré’s work at the right time in my life, even if I was only sixteen. My opinion of his work may have taken a downturn that I’m sorry to say is unlikely to recover, but I will always have the memories and I will never hesitate to speak of his work in a positive light and recommend it to those who want to give it a try. I suppose my approach to Le Carré can be summed up in a paraphrase from one of the later Smiley books, I come and go.