I am going backwards to review a couple of books I read before plunging back into the life of Cromwell and which I recommend.
I read William Boyd’s Waiting For Sunrise a while ago and enjoyed it very much. Back to his spying genre, last seen in Reckless which I think was better. In the latter, an older woman, trained as a spy during the Second World War is sure she is being shadowed and uses all the tricks of her old trade to stay safe. In the face of considerable scepticism from her daughter. It was really very evocative of how one becomes a spy, and how hard it would be to leave that training, that approach to life, behind. Not that our elderly lady wants to. She is uncovering, and wants to avenge, a wrong done a long time ago. Shades of Le Carre, but more nuanced, a bigger canvass than the Circus. In any event, Waiting For Sunrise takes us back into that realm and with some of the same preoccupations. What it takes to become a spy. There is a rather grisly scene about killing someone. Not as easy as in the movies. This time an actor is called on to act for much higher stakes – the greater good of his country no less. Lots of people playing different roles – putting on different masks – to suit their own purpose. Lysander Rief is in Vienna seeking a cure for an embarrassing difficulty affecting sexual performance. He has come to try the new psychoanalysis – though not the strictly Freudian variety (though the good doctor makes an appearance). I don’t know whether the treatment prescribed is based on reality or not. He is advised to act out a positive scenario in his head – to put aside negative images and by doing so achieve satisfaction! In the meantime he is drawn into the lives of others who may or may not be play acting. His fellow tenant, the larger than life disgraced army officer. Hetty Bull, the headstrong woman of mystery who inveigles him into an affair. It all seems too easy – what’s her motivation? What does she want from him? We are never sure But she’s responsible for his brush with the law that takes him to the British Embassy and into the clutches of the English Intelligence agencies. He needs all his thespian skills to make good his escape. And then he needs them again to carry out instructions. Including the gruesome killing – or is it murder? Back home he is sent on the trail of a possible traitor. You are never sure about the characters – who’s good, who’s bad. He comes across his mother in a different role. Is she good or is she bad? Hetty bobs back up. So does his doctor from Vienna. And a beloved Uncle. From there the story bobs and weaves all over the place before coming to a satisfying conclusion. Book-ended by two similar passages, a bystander observing Lysander from a distance and musing about what he might be up to. The theme of the book – observe carefully, characters may not be who they appear to be; actions, not so clear cut; motivations more complex than they seem on the surface. Nice leading man and the action rattles along nicely.
Earlier in the year I enjoyed Jennie Erdal’s The Missing Shade of Blue, which I saw described as a philosophical novel. The narrator is an expert on the philosopher David Hume and the title comes from one pf his theories. Jennie Erdal was concerned that such a description would be off-putting for readers. It shouldn’t be. I’ve been looking out for more books by this author since I read Ghosting which is her true story about her life as a ghost writer. A wonderful book. Amazing story, larger than life character, well written and great honesty about her own role in what was morally questionable behaviour. So read that one if you can. The Missing Shade of Blue doesn’t require any great knowledge of Hume’s philosophy, though you might get more out of the book if you have it, I didn’t. Three main characters nicely drawn, each sympathetic in their own way. The narrator- a Frenchman, loner, now orphaned but remembering a mother who slipped into madness long before her death and a father who dispensed love and advice whilst leading a life of quiet goodness. Sanderson the failing, flailing, old style academic spiraling out of control in a changing academic world. Carrie, Sanderson’s unlikely wife, a strange, waif like creature. Set in Edinburgh, the city beautifully described. Jenny Erdal’s home town. The narrative is leisurely and doesn’t go where you expect it to. Loose ends are not tied up. No easy resolutions. But satisfying despite that. A gentle observational novel with lots of conversing about big moral, philosophical ideas – what is a good life?
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