The Russia House

Watched the film over the Xmas break so decided to read the book. I have a love-hate relationship with Le Carre novels, I love the Smiley books but have been left cold by some of the others. This, however was brilliant, much darker and enigmatic than the film (which has a happy ending). Interesting to see the uneasy relationship between the CIA and the Russia House spies. I found it difficult to remember just what the world felt like during the early days of glasnost, that mixture of hope, disbelief and distrust the West felt which underpins the whole novel.

Probably not a book for reading on the bus. The Russia House is one of those slow-burn, deliberately told stories that requires contemplation and uninterrupted reading time. The story begins at a book fair in Russia, where a woman named Katya delivers a manuscript for the attention of Bartholomew Scott "Barley" Blair, a publisher. The contents: Soviet defence secrets. Naturally, once the British Secret Service and the CIA find out about the manuscript, they have to get their hands on it. The story is told from the perspective of Horatio dePalfrey, a Service lawyer, as they do a postmortem on l'affaire "Bluebird" (their code name for the author of the manuscript). Of course, nobody will take the blame for anything, but "note was taken. show more Passively, since active verbs have an unpleasant way of betraying the actor."

This is the first le Carré I can recall reading that has first-person narration, and overall it works very well. Palfrey (most often referred to without the "de" for some reason) is self-effacing and unobtrusive, like the good Service lawyer he is. It's over 200 pages before we find out he's even married, for example. One does have to suspend a bit of disbelief when he reconstructs conversations to which he was not directly privy, but one could then counter with the idea that interviews with the people involved and transcripts from taped conversations would help him fill in the gaps. The conflict between the US and UK intelligence officers was also entertaining -- just like the Cold War, when the UK was almost more concerned about keeping secrets from the Americans than from the KGB.

I may try reading this again after getting some more historical background of the period, since most of my Cold War reading takes place before perestroika/glasnost. And if you're interested in reading it, do give it a spin, but make sure you read it without distractions! show less

This is almost perfect Le Carré — world weary but romantic; cynical but whimsical. The setting is a world thrown into confusion by Gorbachev's glasnost and perestroika. And I guess much like spy-novelists, the spies are unsure whether to pull up stumps and congratulate each on a 'good game' or to dig in for the inevitable double-cross. With such a rich and complex milieu, it is perhaps understandable — forgivable? beneficial? — that the plot is more straightforward than his earlier works. That's not to say it lacks excitement, but at times Le Carré is actively deflating the tension — hinting at what will transpire — as if he (through his proxy, the equivocating legal council to the secret service, with a faint whiff of show more regret and reluctance) no longer wants to participate in the inflationary hyperbole of the cold war of words, which supported the ever-accelerating arms race.

All that said, this is very recognisable Le Carré, with strong echoes of some of his best work. It acts as a wonderful, questioning, almost absurd (with its protagonist of a alcoholic, jazz sax-playing, minor publisher) punctuation mark to a long phase of his career, wrestling with the practice of and theory behind the cold war.

Perhaps because of that, it is a very thoughtful book, and offers no easy answers (though Le Carré's leanings certainly come through). Beautifully written, with some marvelous bon mots. I fully expect to re-read this at some point.

One final note — I was amazed to see that the shabby, dissolute publisher is played on film by Sean Connery; I had pictured him as a glasses-wearing cross between Christopher Hitchens and Peter Mannion from The Thick Of It. show less

I enjoyed reading this book as much as I did the first time: Few books have that effect with me. It contains some of Le Carre's most insightful and finely crafted descriptive passages - he captures fragments of a Russia undergoing sweeping changes with the confusion of people unused to free choice and uncertain if it is what they want or their decaying Soviet masters will actually allow.
Within that (now) spasm of historic evolution is the premise of the story: Everything Russians and the West have been told and assumed about the 'might' of the USSR is possibly a fabrication!
The perplexed uncertainty and paranoia of the West is also on display. Le Carre portrays the crumbling Communist structure, but can something fall apart if it was show more never really there? The vaunted, Nuclear Weapons arsenal, the power of the State apparatus... If they're no longer genuine then all that remains is Russia's one and only real asset, its people. Who is Goethe? Is his manuscript fact or fiction? Is the great monolith USSR a reality or an emperor without a nuclear vest!?
Le Carre blends all that with a couple of superbly portrayed characters, Barley Blair and Katya whose love affair overlays the whole narrative.
'The Russia House' ranks in the top 5 of this masterful spy-thriller author's legendary work. show less

I have been thinking about reading le Carre for a while and wasn't sure where to start. I don't know if this was the right place. The book takes place in the late 1980s and concerns British/American intelligence training of a civilian spy (i.e., not a career "espiocrat," possibly an absolutely wonderful le Carre neologism) to extract information from a Russian scientist about the state of the Soviet nuclear program, and the complications that arise from his personal investment in the players on the Russian side. I really enjoyed this book for its stylishness, beautiful writing, and interesting central character, but I did not feel enough tension in the plot.

Not that I want things necessarily to move a mile a minute with lots of show more action--I'm given to understand that's not le Carre's bailiwick, and that's fine. More just that the justifications given for why the mission was important rang somewhat hollow given the period/setting. Of course there was still espionage and counter-espionage between the west and Soviets even as it became clear that the USSR was untenable; I just didn't feel that the information the secret services were hoping to capture from the "Bluebird" mission would have been all that earth-shattering. Not enough to hang the plot on. Just my opinion.

But, the good: The atmosphere is wonderfully, evocatively stifling. The characters are complex, or at least complexly-motivated, which usually comes to the same thing. The prose is astounding. My quibbles are not enough to turn me off of trying again with more from le Carre. show less

Llibre un pel feixuc que s'ha de llegir amb molta atenció per seguir la narrativa laberíntica de Le Carré. La història és interessant en el seu context històric, però la trama i sobretot la descripció narrativa massa rebuscada.

Kirkus Reviews /* Starred Review */ Does glasnost mean the Cold War is over? Le Carre the ultimate chronicler of Cold War espionage, ponders that issue (and others) in an up-to-date spy fable: his drollest work thus far, his simplest plot by a long shot, and sturdy entertainment throughout--even if not in the same league with the Karla trilogy and other le Carre? classics. British Intelligence has gotten hold of a manuscript smuggled out of Russia. Part of it consists of wild sociopolitical ramblings. But the other part provides full details on the USSR's most secret defense weaponry--which is apparently in utter shambles! Can the UK and US trust this data and proceed with grand-scale disarmament? To find out, the Brits recruit the show more left-wing London publisher Bartholomew "Barley" Scott Blair, who has been chosen--by the manuscript's author, a reclusive Soviet scientist nicknamed "Goethe"--to handle the book's publication in the West. Barley's mission is to rendezvous with Goethe in Russia, ask lots of questions, and evaluate whether he's for real. . .or just part of a KGB disinformation scheme. Barley--a gifted amateur jazz-sax player, a quasi-rou? in late middle age--has few doubts about Goethe's sincerity; he shares, with increasing fervor, the scientist's Utopian dreams of nth-degree glasnost. But the mission is soon mired in complications: CIA interrogations (with lie-detector) of Barley; venal opposition from US defense-contractors; and Barley's intense--and dangerous--love for Goethe's friend Katya, the go-between for his USSR visits. Narrated by a Smiley-like consultant at British Intelligence, the story, unwinds in typical le Carre? style (leisurely interrogations, oblique angles), but without the usual denseness. The book's more serious threads--debates on disarmament, Barley's embrace of world peace over the "chauvinist drumbeat," the love story--tend toward the obvious and the faintly preachy. Still, Barley is a grand, Dickensian creation, the ugly Americans are a richly diverting crew, and this is witty, shapely tale-spinning from a modern master. (Kirkus Reviews, May 15, 1989) show less