I’ll start this review by saying that it was a terrible choice. I’m not saying it’s a terrible book, but it wasn’t a great choice to begin. I’ve never read any of this author’s work before now, and from what I’ve read about the author, this is something that was a little different for him. Le Carré, born David John Moore Cornwell, was a former intelligence officer and British author of numerous beloved novels of espionage. His George Smiley spy novels have amassed a cult following and his work has inspired numerous adaptations for film and television, including 2005’s The Constant Gardener and 2011’s Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy. Following his death in 2020, his son, Nick Cornwell, a writer who publishes under the pen name Nick Harkaway, decided to continue the George Smiley series. In addition, he released his dad’s last manuscript, one which the author had chosen not to publish. According to Harkaway in the afterward for the novel, he believes his father didn’t publish Silverview because it “does something that no other le Carré novel ever has. It shows a service fragmented: filled with its own political factions, not always kind to those it should cherish … and ultimately not sure, any more, that it can justify itself.”
I’m glad he chose to publish it, as I feel it gives us a little insight into the psyche of the author as he aged, looking back on his own career and sharing his doubts and dismay about the world in which he’d funneled his energy for his entire life. It’s entirely more intimate than his prior mass-market works geared toward his target audience.
The novel follows former London financial worker, Julian Lawndsley, who gives up his career and moves to a seaside village to open a bookstore. When an enigmatic older gentleman named Edward Avon enters the bookstore at close just to chat, Julian finds himself unwittingly pulled into the world of espionage. Avon, as it would seem, is a former MI6 agent and ex-communist who is currently under investigation by a certain high level domestic security agent, Stewart Proctor. While Julian attempts to sift through his own doubts about Avon’s true identity and history, he finds himself a vital part of the official investigation as well.
The book as a whole offers a compelling narrative with an engaging mystery, and I enjoyed the emphasis put on the effect of a long-time career in espionage to individuals involved in the service, including the effect on their families. Unfortunately, the book doesn’t really offer up a satisfying conclusion. The ending is abrupt and feels like something that would have been continued had the author not passed. Considering this manuscript was finished by Harkaway, I hypothesize either he maybe intends to continue the story or he simply didn’t want to change too much of his dad’s original work so left it mostly as-is.
One of these days I will pick up something else of le Carré’s. Maybe I’ll choose to take on the whole Smiley series, as I do feel he’s a very talented writer, and there’s something intriguing about the fact that he actually lived the life about which he writes. It lends a greater authenticity to his work. This one, however, I would say is a 3 star read. It’s engaging and well-written but lacks that satisfying eureka moment ending of a lot of other works in the genre.
Published January 1, 2021 by Viking. ISBN 9780735244467. Hardcover. 224 pages.
This is quite possibly the most difficult review I’ll write for 2024. Yes, please ignore the fact that I’m posting my last 3 reviews (3!!!) for 2024 finished books in 2025. Forgive me, I’m not really on my game, as one would say. No… let me change that. That was absolutely on purpose because I’m doing my reviews in a non-linear flashback-laden fashion in honor of this book. You’re buying that, right? Would you instead believe I’ve been stuck in a well for the whole of 2025 having intense life-changing metaphysical experiences? 
Alas, for my shame. This is my choice for my Bad Reader category in 2024- the book I have seen an adaptation of but never picked up. I know, I know!!! How could I have gone through 40 years of life without ever having read A Christmas Carol??? Honestly, maybe I did at some point but the actual book is buried in my brain beneath the various recreations by film, play, muppet and anything else that dared to take on the most quintessential Christmas tale of all time. Trust me… I KNOW A Christmas Carol. Just this year I saw another hour-long dramatized version at Silver Dollar City complete with a very silly version of The Ghost of Christmas present. I’m telling you, she was something else. I don’t really understand why so many dramatized versions choose to do such odd versions of the ghosts unless it’s just to entertain the children, but some of them can be quite annoying. In the novel, Dickens gave all the ghosts the gravity befitting their station. 
This one is a choice for my reading challenge that’s a new-to-me classic. Not only had I never picked up one of his books before, but I’d been saying his name wrong all these years. Thank you narrator David Horovitch for setting me straight on that one. I will say, it sounds a lot better in real life than the version that was in my head. 
Eliza Marino is a teen who deals with constant threats from external forces. Having survived a hurricane five years previous that threatened to destroy the home on Long Beach Island in New Jersey that she adores, she now spends her days and nights trying to protect it. She fights not just against the ravaging effects of climate change but against the tide of developers who seek to transform the local protected habitats for their own selfish gain. When Eliza meets Milo Harris, the wealthy son of a rich tourist who has come for the summer, she reluctantly agrees to give him surfing lessons despite going against everything he stands for. As the two grow closer over the course of the summer, Eliza finds herself torn between the life she knows she’s meant to live and the boy whose mere presence threatens to destroy it. 
Hailing from a highly respected family with deep military roots, Frankie McGrath grew up believing in heroism, having long admired the family pictures of servicemen on her father’s “wall of heroes.” When her brother, Finley, signs up as a helicopter pilot for the Vietnam War, Frankie chooses to follow him in the only capacity in which she can, as an army nurse stationed in the thick of the turmoil. Though completely ill-prepared, Frankie arrives in Vietnam during a mass casualty event, finding herself thrust into a trial-by-fire situation in which she must endure the most horrifying tests of her courage and endurance or crumple into a heap.
The Island of Dr. Moreau was published by H.G. Wells in 1896. At the time, it wasn’t exactly welcomed by many sectors of society, many finding it blasphemous and too horrendous for print. (Wonder how those people would have felt about The Human Centipede.) In my words, that’s called being “ahead of your time.” This story of an eccentric doctor who has hidden out on his private island in order to enact some horrific experiments on all forms of living creature, including humans, was certainly shocking in its day, but he certainly wasn’t the first to question the ethical boundaries of scientific research. The people pissed about this one had been pissed for the whole of the 19th century at that point, so nobody really cared what they thought. 
Forgive me if I quickly blaze through my next few reviews. I’ve been moving lately and life has been so chaotic. I find myself at the final hour trying to finish my books and reviews for my reading challenge this year. I’m going to make it, but my reviews might not be quite as well-thought-out as I usually attempt. 
In my quest to check off more titles on my reading challenge at the last minute, I’ll add this one for my alliterative author pick. It was also the book club selection for Read Between the Wines this month, chosen by me. I did a bit of double dipping, as you can see. Having been feeling a lot of weight in the things I was reading and experiencing, I decided a nice YA title would be a good choice. It wasn’t exactly light, but I certainly could have chosen worse. And a good fantasy is able to pull me out of the overwhelming nature of reality. 
A Librarian and Her Books 