2018 may look like the year I read the least books in the history of this blog (just 10 entries dated last year), but it's far from the truth. First of all, I finished a record three books during a Christmas holiday in South Africa, the reviews of which have been on my backlog for the past two weeks. The real number for last year is probably 13; over one book per month. Second, last year included some of the longest books that I've ever read - 4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster and Hamilton by Ron Chernow - which definitely set me back in pure numbers but contributed to a total page count that is most likely way above my yearly average. Karl Ove Knausgård may have dampened my enthusiasm for the long form, but 2018 was a success in terms of page volume.
The books themselves were great too. Many of them had a profound impact on me and a few have been in my thoughts ever since. The Pigeon Tunnel from spy-thriller veteran John le Carré was refreshing and charming, but probably not among the books from last year that will keep me up at night in the future. Le Carré is best known for the cold war espionage of The Spy Who Came in from the Cold and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which I've previously featured. His CV is impressive as is the number of film and TV adaptations that have been made from his books. These books seem like they were written by a confident auteur; someone who could bend people and words into new shapes and surprise readers with intrigue built on the frailty of man. The Pigeon Tunnel shows an altogether different side of le Carré (or David Cornwell, his real name). His prose is still pristine, but the person behind it is much more nuanced.
The Pigeon Tunnel is a collection of anecdotes from Cornwell's life. Some focus on the real world inspiration for his best known characters. Others recount his travels abroad and meetings with world leaders. The longest one, and the last chapter in the book, is devoted to his father, a confidence man and criminal, who's lies and vagary left le Carré permanently seeing two sides to people in his life: the one they try to show you and the one they don't. In these stories, Cornwell is insecure but warm and describes his journeys more through the lens of his constant conviction that he is way out of his league. There are parallels to Bruce Springsteen's autobiography: a man driven to entertain by an absent father and a sense of not doing enough.
In addition to the harrowing tales of his father's misdeeds, I was most struck by an acute generational gap between me and Cornwell. A battalion of cold war diplomat-spies was unleashed on the world with the overt goal of stopping communism. Behind this laudable facade, however, not much was done to the general benefit of western countries and Cornwell admits as much. Young diplomats would attend lunches and dinners, interview locals and file reports that may or may not have had as much informational value as the local newspaper. In reality, the western intelligence community tricked itself better than it could trick the opposing spy agencies. In today's world, the same spies would compete to work 60 hour weeks and write elaborate reports: meaningless work done exceptionally well.
It is difficult to pin down what The Pigeon Tunnel is about. Cornwell's life is better told in a sanctioned biography. The le Carré novels do a better job of animating the cold war. It is not a autobiography by any means; the stories are too vivid and wonderful to be assumed unenhanced by their masterful author. As part of the oeuvre, The Pigeon Tunnel is more evidence to the writer's skills in semi-retirement. In itself, it's impossible to recommend to non-fans.
The books themselves were great too. Many of them had a profound impact on me and a few have been in my thoughts ever since. The Pigeon Tunnel from spy-thriller veteran John le Carré was refreshing and charming, but probably not among the books from last year that will keep me up at night in the future. Le Carré is best known for the cold war espionage of The Spy Who Came in from the Cold and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which I've previously featured. His CV is impressive as is the number of film and TV adaptations that have been made from his books. These books seem like they were written by a confident auteur; someone who could bend people and words into new shapes and surprise readers with intrigue built on the frailty of man. The Pigeon Tunnel shows an altogether different side of le Carré (or David Cornwell, his real name). His prose is still pristine, but the person behind it is much more nuanced.
The Pigeon Tunnel is a collection of anecdotes from Cornwell's life. Some focus on the real world inspiration for his best known characters. Others recount his travels abroad and meetings with world leaders. The longest one, and the last chapter in the book, is devoted to his father, a confidence man and criminal, who's lies and vagary left le Carré permanently seeing two sides to people in his life: the one they try to show you and the one they don't. In these stories, Cornwell is insecure but warm and describes his journeys more through the lens of his constant conviction that he is way out of his league. There are parallels to Bruce Springsteen's autobiography: a man driven to entertain by an absent father and a sense of not doing enough.
In addition to the harrowing tales of his father's misdeeds, I was most struck by an acute generational gap between me and Cornwell. A battalion of cold war diplomat-spies was unleashed on the world with the overt goal of stopping communism. Behind this laudable facade, however, not much was done to the general benefit of western countries and Cornwell admits as much. Young diplomats would attend lunches and dinners, interview locals and file reports that may or may not have had as much informational value as the local newspaper. In reality, the western intelligence community tricked itself better than it could trick the opposing spy agencies. In today's world, the same spies would compete to work 60 hour weeks and write elaborate reports: meaningless work done exceptionally well.
It is difficult to pin down what The Pigeon Tunnel is about. Cornwell's life is better told in a sanctioned biography. The le Carré novels do a better job of animating the cold war. It is not a autobiography by any means; the stories are too vivid and wonderful to be assumed unenhanced by their masterful author. As part of the oeuvre, The Pigeon Tunnel is more evidence to the writer's skills in semi-retirement. In itself, it's impossible to recommend to non-fans.