Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy - John le Carré

 The second le Carré novel, I set about reading, on the recommendation of a reader-friend. With the taste of "The Spy Who came in from the Cold" still in my mind ( the novel, followed by the Richard Burton casting movie), I had no hesitation in pitching headlong into this novel. Although, I started it as an audiobook, the twists, deep espionage made me quickly switch to my kindle. The human factor which play along like an eerie background music, insisted that I don't miss the detail.

George Smiley, who was ridiculed by some, hinted at by some, due to him having a compromised position in his life, continues  doggedly upon being requested to make a come back to service, to catch a mole - "Gerald", as it were.  In one place, late into the book, he describes himself, thus:

"It's only facts I'm after, Toby, not scalps. you know me - I'm not the vindictive sort"

In his investigation, he cannot help being insulted upon, tread on personal relationships between men and women, and men and men. George Smiley! Without the radiance of  the like of Bill Haydon, in the circus. Fat, persevering and without illusion. Well, not quite. He too had one illusion:

"The last Illusion of the Illusionless man",

                        who tolerated a series of infidelities of his woman, for the sake of love, which was used by the opposing camp as a double cover.  Just as Jim Prideaux, was used, but arising from  a more genuine attachment.

And then there was the artiste. The Artiste who "went both ways", who was feeding his ideology, who had a  consistent and convincing  story to explain what he did, and why he did it. And finally, there was Control. Who in his own words, was:

"too vain to be flattered, too old to be ambitious, and I’m ugly as a crab.",

             for whom, it was a race against time, in his numbered days. I couldn't help a sense of appreciation for that , ( by the time of the narration ), dead man, who saw through the facade, but couldn't build the case with his failing health.

It is not a pretty situation to be in, for either of these men. A world war, then a cold war, and once you realise that the ideology is but a loosely stitched one, a thinking man will have his conscience  troubled. An artiste, an ideologist, doubly so. Maybe it is the disillusioned man, sticking to his track of duty, while he has been betrayed by those he has loved, who holds the world together and brings its much needed sanity. Although I don't know if  Le Carre was influenced by existentialism and, absurdism in particular. I cannot but trace back to sediments of it in both his works I've read - "The Spy Who came in from the Cold", and now, "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy".

Although I had no intention of hitting on to Spy novels at this stage, I fear that I will probably linger a bit more on Le Carre, to see where it leads thing to. He has got me captivated.

*****
First Published in 1974