It’s hard to say much about the plot without significant spoilers as apparently separate stories gradually merge. A new, somewhat naive bookseller in an East Anglian coastal town is befriended by a rather odd but knowledgeable local man. Meanwhile, there appears to be some near-panic in the Secret Intelligence Services, although it takes some time to piece together why. It gradually becomes clear how these things may be related and we get some vintage le Carré on the workings of the SIS, the psychology of those involved and the motivations of an agent.
It’s all done in beautifully restrained, poised prose which wastes no words but manages to imply so much, so an apparently spare and simple story is rich and involving. I found it engrossing and very readable, but slightly let down by a somewhat transparent ending with some over-explicit exposition at one point. Nonetheless, this is in a class above most contemporary espionage fiction and it stands as a worthy farewell from a genuine master of the genre.
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