Book
Review
by Daphne Liddle
The
Pigeon Tunnel by John le Carré. 342pp. ISBN 978-0-241-97689-0
First
published by Viking 2016; Published by Penguin 2017 at £8.99
THIS
BOOK marks John le Carré’s, the well-known writer of spy thrillers, first
venture into non-fiction. It is not so much an autobiography as a rich
collection of autobiographical anecdotes and is mostly about the people he has
met and spoken in his career as a writer researching characters for his books,
and later the film directors and stars who brought his creations to the cinema
and television series. His real name is David Cornwell.
We get personal encounters with Yasser
Arafat, Palestinian freedom fighters, Andrei Sakharov, Richard Burton, Alec
Guinness and many others. We learn about Oleg Penkovsky’s interesting medical
condition and about how in 1951 West German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer’s chief
of security managed to pass a law ensuring that civil servants from the Nazi
era were recompensed with pay, back pay, pension rights and promotions that
they would have had if the Second World War had not taken place or if Germany
had won it. The result was that “The old Nazi guard clung to the plum jobs. A younger,
less tarnished generation was consigned to life below stairs.”
Le Carré’s diligent researches led him to
create well rounded, three-dimensional characters in contrast with the shallow
sex-and-violence-obsessed creations of some other spy thrillers. But he went
out ‘into the field’ to do his research with characters already in mind and saw
the people he met through the prisms of those characters – not totally open
mindedly.
It is only at the end of the book that we
get an insight into his childhood and relationship with his father – a
well-heeled wheeler dealer and con-man who served more than one sentence for
fraud – a gambler who could charm money out of people who would still say what
a wonderful bloke he was after they had been robbed, but who would leave his
family desperately trying to fend off creditors.
Le Carré claims it was his father who
first taught him how to lie well – how to charm strangers into parting with
money and state secrets – a transferable skill vital to spies and writers of fiction
alike. Le Carré claims that his own experience as a spy was superficial
dabbling of no significance.
He has a jaundiced but affectionate view
of the espionage community both East and West, and makes it clear that the
skills and culture of spies are not those of model citizens. That world has
undergone huge changes since the revelations of Wikileaks through Chelsea
Manning and those of Edward Snowden, leaving the plots of Le Carré and other
spy thriller writers looking a lot less astounding and dramatic than real life.
Now in his mid-80s, Le Carré warns that
his memories may not be perfect and the book is mostly about the people he has
met rather than himself, but we do catch a mirror image of an amiable,
confident, well-off world traveller who is still very careful not to say too
much.
The title The Pigeon Tunnel is taken
from a facility provided by a sports club next to the main casino in Monté
Carlo: a stretch of lawn and a shooting range looking out to sea. Under the
lawn were two wide tunnels connected to a pigeon loft. Pigeons were put into
the tunnels to stumble and flutter their way to the light at the end of the
tunnels where they would emerge over the Mediterranean sky as sporting
gentlemen were ready to blast them with shot guns.
Surviving pigeons would return to the top
of the casino and their place of birth, where they would be trapped to send on
the same perilous journey again – because being homing pigeons they did not
know what else to do. Le Carré likens this to the culture of spies.
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