Puppet On A Chain – Alistair MacLean, 1969 ★★★

 A Nastier Sort of Thrill Ride

Alistair MacLean knew how to write exciting adventure stories. Deep into the second decade of his bestselling career, he had it down to a formula. Kick things off with a deadly encounter in chapter one, keep raising the odds in every chapter, and never let up on the wisecracks.

Interpol agent Paul Sherman just arrived in Amsterdam. Before he can even leave Schiphol Airport he has already witnessed the gunning down of his main contact, been knocked half-unconscious by an assassin, tangled with a mysterious woman, and clashed with local authorities who can’t believe he’s a lawman.

Athabasca – Alistair MacLean, 1980 ★½

A Thriller on the Rocks

What can you say about a thriller where everything happens at once and an invisible adversary manages to be everywhere and nowhere?

Athabasca is a novel driven by a need to exceed. Not so much in thrills, but in scale. What starts out as a scenic visit by security experts to discuss a possible threat at the mouth of the Alaska Pipeline quickly escalates into a deadly, fiery crisis that draws in a second mammoth oil-extraction operation thousands of miles away.

For this trio of intrepid, overweight investigators led by the smug, loquacious Jim Brady, big explosions, mutilated bodies, and shadowy terrorists are all secondary to how long their booze supply holds up.

Where Eagles Dare – Alistair MacLean, 1967 ★★★★

Gunplay in a Lighter Vein

It took awhile to appreciate one of the great adventure novels of its day. I think I get it now. A masterclass of immersive yarnspinning, Where Eagles Dare is a clever plate-spinner emphasizing fun and thrills at every turn, a game writer’s playful take on the wartime thriller.

Does it help or hurt this book that it was made into a classic movie? After years of struggling with this question, and preferring the film, I have reached the happy conclusion that the book is its own thing, quite a different sort of entertainment, and all the better for it.

Reality takes a holiday as commandos banter over gunfire while implausible ploys find ways of succeeding in the end, but for me this time, it comes back to the plate-spinning. Alistair MacLean defies gravity and logic across 219 pages, and I found myself enjoying the ride.

The Golden Gate – Alistair MacLean, 1976 ★½

Hijackers with Manners

This is a singularly strange action yarn where the bad guys are more likable than the good guys and the crime scene includes jape-filled press conferences and hostage-takers who pause for photographs.

“I’ve never been responsible for anybody’s death in my life,” says the top hijacker, a fellow named Branson. It’s a kind of villainous boast you don’t expect, but he really means it.

In the opening chapter, Branson and his henchmen execute a plot that nets him not only the President of the United States and two Arab oil potentates but also the Golden Gate Bridge. His price to release them: half a billion dollars, as well as pardons for him and his team.

When Eight Bells Toll – Alistair MacLean, 1966 ★★½

Requiem for an Airport Thriller

If Alistair MacLean isn’t the godfather of that once-popular genre known as “airport fiction,” then he is at least a capo in high esteem.

For decades, people – mostly male business travelers – picked up MacLean novels with a newspaper and a pack of cigarettes in preparation for a long flight or train ride. These books featured garish covers where lean, muscular men fired machine guns in front of impressive explosions. For a pre-teen like me, they offered a glance at the world where I liked to imagine adults really lived.

As a thriller writer, MacLean was not subtle. But he was effective.