Before I embark on the longest work of fiction I have ever read (see last entry) I must report that I have just finished Berlin Game by Len Deighton, an excellent spy story, reading a second hand copy, but in good condition, which I purchased from a local charity shop for 50p. I have commented before on this blog that Deighton is an author whose writing I admire, and Berlin Game is probably one of his best reads, full of sharp, sardonic dialogue, interesting descriptions, particularly of Cold War Berlin, and enough twists to keep you turning pages right to the end. His hero, Bernard Sansom, narrates the book in the first person, and we get to know him well: we learn to trust no-one; this is a book where everyone plays their cards very carefully. Highly recommended if you like taut spy stories, of which Deighton and Le Carre are surely the best exponents.
The problem for me is that Berlin Game is the start of a series of Bernard Sansom novels, of which the next two, Mexico Set and London Game, are now must-reads for me. So I will have to find them and fit them in alongside 2,500 pages of Chinese literature! I am intrigued to read that Quentin Tarantino wanted to film these three Deighton novels but has been beaten to the punch by another studio; I look forward to seeing them on the screen; as we have already seen with The Ipcress File, Funeral in Berlin and SS-GB, Deighton's work translates very well to the screen.
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