The title character, a middle-aged man
known to us only by a letter, D., arrives in England from his war-torn
homeland, also unnamed. His mission, explained after some bumping around and a
beating, has to do with getting a British coal-mining concern to do business
with his nation’s government. The nation is currently
embroiled in civil war, and an agent from the rebel side, identified as L., is
hot on D.’s trail.
“At a certain point, books can have some usefulness. When one lives alone, one does not hurry through books in order to parade one’s reading; one varies them less and meditates on them more.” Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Monday, October 26, 2015
The Confidential Agent– Graham Greene, 1939 ★½
Thursday, October 15, 2015
President Reagan: The Role Of A Lifetime – Lou Cannon, 1991 ★★★★
Saturday, October 3, 2015
The Afghan – Frederick Forsyth, 2006 ★
Frederick Forsyth has owned me for over
30 years, since The Day Of The Jackal
held me hostage for a sleepless week in boarding school. Forsyth has put me
ringside while World War III is averted, powerful bad guys are chastened with
vigor, and the value of committed individualism is repeatedly, gloriously affirmed.
But the Cold War verities which spawned
Forsyth’s career have given way. 9/11 showed you don’t need a Politburo to
direct large-scale destruction upon the West. Simple good/evil binaries between
freedom and Communism have been replaced by self-loathing democracies fed up with
their own capitalist excess.
New technology, like drones and instantaneous
eavesdropping, has made Forsyth’s dependency on isolated men of action seem
almost quaint, not to mention sexist and possibly homophobic.
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