In reply to Trangia:
> Undoubtabley a popular author, he was was one I never really could never say I really enjoyed reading. I remember when Tinker, Sailor, Soldier, Spy was first published in 1963 at the height of the Cold War, and finding it a difficult read, full of intrigue and difficult to follow. I had a similar problem when I read The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, so after that I really gave up on his books.
I had the same problem. Started reading Smiley's People. 'A Legend for a Girl' (one of the chapters iirc) - Jeez, what's that all about? Gave up on it. A few years later, started at Tinker, Sailor, Soldier, Spy, the first one in the trilogy, not the third - maybe a good idea to (re)-start at the beginning?
Jim Prideaux living in his caravan, taking games at the minor public school... Jeez, what's that got to do with anything? Carried on, this time. Somewhere along the way, slowly, slowly the penny started to drop and I began to realise I was in the presence of a writer of towering genius.
Le Carré was deliberately elliptical. His modus operandi was to begin with some seemingly irrelevant detail at the edge of a circle. Slowly, slowly (sometimes deliberately maddeningly?) he'd go round and round the circle, each time getting ever so slightly closer to its centre.
When you finally arrive at the centre and realise what he's done, almost always it's too late. He's broken your heart. Whether you wish it or not, you're morally older, wiser and sadder.
Giving the Nobel Prize for Literature to Dylan (sure, a great songwriter, among my favourites) but not Le Carré says everything about the age which we inhabit.
Mick