Book world infected by the plague of the tribute act
Theatres have long been infected by the tribute act virus. This plague now appears to be spreading to the world of books.
New book covers shout the names of long dead writers as the authors of the novels within their embrace.
It is a deception that tends to be somewhat begrudgingly admitted or explained in far smaller font. Blink and you might miss it.
Agatha Christie lives on as co-creator with Sophie Hannah of several new Hercule Poirot mysteries.
Ian Fleming’s estate chose Anthony Horowitz to write a succession of James Bond escapades based on the author’s previously unpublished material.
Horowitz has also provided his twist on Christie’s endlessly popular Poirot with scripts for ITV dramas featuring the Belgian sleuth.
Nicola Upson follows another route by turning famed crime fiction writer Joesphine Tey into the detective lead in her own series of cosy crime.
In all such cases the book being presented as the work of a worldwide bestseller is no such thing.
It is a pastiche, an imitation or, as some promoters would have it, “In the style of”.
The reality is that the authors of such works are copyists, impersonators, ghostwriters who have cast aside their shrouds of mystery and secrecy.
By so doing they devalue the final product which surely needs to be judged as a stand alone or even an entire series free of any alleged connection to a deceased bestseller..
This is the dilemma presented by Karla’s Choice with its cover headline announcing it as “A novel of John le Carre’s Circus”.
These words have clearly been chosen to seduce millions of followers of arch spy George Smiley into parting with their hard-earned cash.
Only at the foot of the page (past the small print exclamation from the ubiquitous Richard Osman that “Smiley is back”) are we bookshop browsers told the author is Nick Harkaway.
Who?
Apparently he is “an acclaimed author” who tends towards doomsday tales and stories set in a post apolyptic world. Some of them with an espionage or crime thriller theme.
More to the point, he is the son of John le Carre. This obviously gives him the inside running if the Smiley history is to be continued rather than come to a juddering halt with so many questions left unanswered..
Which is what Karla’s Choice attempts to resolve, Karla of the title being the devious Russian spy that Smiley was forever trying to outwit. The two grand masters are now locked in a deadly game of espionage chess with deceit and false trails their weapons of choice.
All the old inhabitants of the Circus resurface. Toby Esterhase, Bill Haydon and the enigmatic Control are chief among them as they convene at the Circus, their anonymous London headquarters, to unravel what lies behind a Russian agent’s unexpected defection to the West.
The in-fighting, the sniping and the point-scoring that come as second nature to these shadowy figures remains as much a feature of the story as it is in the books written by Harkaway’s father. There are occasional flashes of humour – usually sardonic, double-edged and to be welcomed as lighter moments in the often somewhat heavy conversations.
Which is where the “tribute” nature of the book comes to the fore. Like its equivalents in theatreland, there is always the sense that what you are being sold is not quite the genuine article, regardless of how intrriguing and absorbing it might be.
Thus Karla’s Choice is okay as a pastiche of the original’s style and quirks but suffers from too many longeurs. It is heavy going in parts and at times gets lost in its own cleverness.
Fortunately the pace picks up towards the end and the teasing ‘will they won’t they’ sidebar story of Smiley’s relationship with loyal wife Ann also comes briefly into the spotlight.
The portrayal of Cold War Europe is as brilliant as ever – the time when Yugoslavia still existed and agents in peril had to search for a telephone rather than obtain instant connections via their mobiles.
But just as the Illegal Eagles may pump out all the group’s hits with great verve and vigour or a passable Tina Turner lookalike hits all the right notes in What’s Love Got To Do With It? there remains that sense of it being not quite the genuine article.
Nonetheless it is a good read which, true to Harkaway’s intentions, slots neatly into that gap between The Spy Who Came in from the Cold and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.