Autumn now seems officially to be John le Carré season, given that this is the fourth year running since the author’s death in 2020 we’ve had a new book by or about him: first came the posthumously published novel Silverview, then an edition of his letters, as well as a memoir by his lover Sue “Suleika” Dawson (The Secret Heart), before last year’s follow-up exposé by his biographer Adam Sisman, The Secret Life of John le Carré, documenting other lovers the espionage writer hadn’t wanted mentioned in his lifetime.
Considering the drift of those books, it’s maybe unsurprising if we’ve lost sight of le Carré’s achievements as a novelist, especially in his early years. His first big hit, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1963), which mapped a thwarted romance on to geopolitical intrigue in divided Berlin, accelerated the spy genre’s 20th-century breakaway from jingoistic tub-thumping and gung-ho adventure. By the time of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (1974), an ensemble psychodrama in which the British plot against one another as much as against the Soviets, le Carré’s narrative energy is generated more by gnarly workplace tensions rather than conventional derring-do, which is nonetheless tinglingly present in the book’s shattering finale.
