Silverview: A Novel

This is one of the unpublished works of John le Carre. It was picked up, slightly reworked and finally published by his son after le Carre's death in 2020.

Story is about the man, true believer, thrown into the Cold War, then various hot-spots across the world until he finally reaches the breaking point in Balkans, during the civil wars that shred the Yugoslavia. What he cannot accept is politicization of intelligence service he works at, service that takes people and uses them as long as it can after which they only get discarded (I mean, every security service is such, everybody is just means to the end but in books (and I guess in real life too) idealists can never come to terms with this). And when he sees the plans that will cause more bloodshed and destruction without doing anything of substance politically he makes his choice.

It is story of a man trying to redeem himself but while he does that he triggers the UK security services investigation into leaking information. What follow is kind of a cathartic journey - from broken man trapped in marriage [with basically personification of everything he hates in service], doing what he thinks is right (but which makes him a traitor), deep loss and finally exile, with person he admires very much. But in any case he will forever remain a pariah, hunted by all.

With all the above being said, story is a bit too direct. Some of the characters (Lily especially) are a little bit unclear in their motives. The entire we-are-family-of-spies approach does not make much sense. I mean betrayal is betrayal .... right? julian (book shop owner) is also very strange, with level of acceptance of certain events that is little bit too high (acting as courier for someone just for .... what?). He shows he is practical because he never even tries to confront security services once they appear but some actions (and general lack of suspicion) is weird.

Interesting story, but it feels raw, unpolished.

If you like spy stories give it a try. But be ready for a slightly different flavor of le Carre's work.

I love John Le Carre books, think I've read them all, and liked this one a lot. I have been, and remain, in mourning for him. I hated, as I got into this book, that I knew I would soon reach the end. This is well worth reading.

Engaging and quiet this tale of people living what truth they can find while the world is busy changing what those truths applied to and exposing the machinery corrupted in part the requirement to be effective without a moral definition of what that meant. In spite of disliking Teddy and not being convinced by Julian I quite enjoyed the read.

It has often been noted that many books published posthumously might have been better left in the drawer. I found this more confusing than a typical le Carré novel and with the ending cut off (or maybe tacked on).

Protagonist Julian has moved from the city to a small English town and opened a bookshop. He meets Edward and other former spies. Edward manipulates him into doing him favors” that are more than they appear at face value. Edward is under investigation by the home office. It slowly builds complex relationships among the characters and provides their backstories. It is more of a character study than an action-packed spy thriller. It has a melancholy tone. We see the impact of the spying life on the personal lives of the characters. There are quite a few literary references. This is the last novel by John le Carre’, published posthumously in 2021. It is not my favorite of his works, but I enjoyed it.

Lovely book. Nothing exciting happens but everything happens. Read it for the sentences.

This short novel seemed inferior to Le Carre's earliest work. The jargon and lingo of British spyware was nearly indecipherable to me, the plot line was hard to understand, and the characters were flat. It was a disappointment.

Le Carre's last completed novel, and it does no damage to his legacy, for sure. Just it's rather a lesser Le Carre. The central character seems not-fully-developed, his actions not explained quite well enough. I get the feeling that maybe LeCarre only fully explained his charcters' motivations and psychological makeups--through asides and flashbacks, usually--*after* having written out the action of the story. And perhaps that process wasn't fully completed here?

Just didn't work for me. Maybe the book version would have been better, but I could not distinguish one character from another. Lowest rating for a Le Carre book I have given.

I loved it. I still think leCarre's masterpiece is Absolute Friends. But this novel, Silverview, is a stunning capstone to his career.

The last novel by Le Carre before his death in 2020. He never got to finish this, and never really made clear what the ending would have been. It’s good, and portrays tired, somewhat faceless individuals Eeking out a life in an unnamed but East Anglian coastal town, with pasts that refuse to entirely stay in the past. Viewed as a psychological piece, it reveals its mysteries slowly, and this is very much a slow burn. Make sure you can concentrate when reading. The twists and turns can be difficult to follow otherwise.

I've been reading John Le Carre for probably forty years now, beginning way back with THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD, then zig-zagging through at least half a dozen more of his many works, so I thoroughly enjoyed SILVERVIEW, albeit with an undertone of sadness, knowing this would be his last. He died last year at 89. This last manuscript was rescued from a desk drawer by Le Carre's son, Nick Cornwell, who I assume proofread and polished it some, but not much, because the book reads like vintage Le Carre, who is the acknowledged master of the literary spy novel. (The one glaring error Nick missed, unless it was just a typo, was the line that read: "Top brass from Langley, NASA, Defence and the White House brigade." Anyone who knows anything about the intelligence community knows that shou!d have been NSA, not NASA.)

Indeed, the author's son tells us, in his Afterword, that the novel was very much a finished product, and feels his father was only hesitant to publish it because of its implications that Le Carre's beloved Secret Service had lost its way in recent years. This can be seen in the musings of Proctor, a central character, as he wonders about Edward, a valuable agent who had turned and was on the run.

"Did Edward still love the Service despite its many blemishes? ... Did Edward see the Service as the problem rather than the solution? ... Did Edward fear that, in the absence of any coherent British foreign policy, the Service was getting too big for its boots?"

The characters here are all fascinating, if at times unfathomable. And, as the book is barely two hundred pages, they are perhaps not quite as fully developed as some of his more famous ones - Smiley's people. However, they all seem to work, because I kept on feverishly turning pages, wanting desperately to know what would happen next. Perhaps the author had more he wanted to add to the story, but his time ran out. And what is here is, in the end, sufficient - one hell of a good spy story in fact. There are a few "old hands," as well as a young city trader turned bookseller in a small town. A couple love stories, one old, one new. Some possible infidelity. It's all in here. Le Carre was still very much at the top of his game when he left us. RIP, Sir, and thank you for all of it. My highest recommendation.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER

Silverview, John le Carré, Author; Toby Jones, narrator In this, the last novel of John Le Carré, we are gifted with a beautifully written espionage tale that does not truly come together until the very end. From the beginning, the story twists and turns in many directions, leading the reader on a merry chase after the plot, perhaps requiring a second read to put it all together. Is this an espionage novel or a romance novel masquerading as one? When the story opens, a woman pushing a pram in the rain visits the home of Stewart Proctor. She delivers a sealed letter to Proctor and awaits his response which she brings back to her ailing and dying mother, Deborah Garton, who is married to Edward Avon, Lily’s father. They live in a house called Silverview, which gives the book its title and is the English translation of Silberblick, the name of Nietzsche’s home. Their relationships are complicated. While this thread of that story unfolds, another begins. Julian Lawndsley is the owner of a bookstore. He left a lucrative financial career to begin a quieter life. One day, he is visited in the store by one Edward Avon, who tells him he had once been a dear friend of his father. Edward encourages him to open a section of his store, in the basement, devoted to the classics, and they call it “The Republic of Literature”. Soon Edward asks Julian for a favor. He wants him to deliver a letter to a woman he covets outside of his marriage. Shortly afterward, Edward’s wife, Deborah, invites Julian to dinner, although she is quite ill and dying. The conversation is cryptic, that evening, but pleasant. Julian meets Lily there and they grow fond of each other. Julian learns many things about Edward besides his friendship with his father. Many years ago, Edward rescued a doctor named Salma, from the Serbs, after they murdered her husband, Faisal, and her son. He then returned to his life with his wife Deborah. When Edward asks Julian to do him a favor and deliver a letter to a woman he covets outside his marriage, Julian agrees. He has no idea who she is, but he accepts the responsibility because he is fond of Edward. He returns with a letter for Edward and a message that she is well. He tells Edward she is beautiful. In the next thread, there is a breach of security in England, Stuart Proctor becomes involved. He and Deborah worked for the British Intelligence Service. She was extremely well respected. Proctor begins to suspect Edward of treachery. Could Edward be the cause of the breach. He follows Edward’s trail and investigates all of the people he visits to find out if he is up to something or has been for years. Many questions erupt from the pages. Who is Stuart Proctor? Who is the real Julian, What part does Lily play in all of the comings and goings. Who is the real Edward? Who was the mystery woman of the letter. Several of the characters have double lives and double names, but each is an integral part of the story, filling in the blank spaces that arise. Although the book is narrated really well by Toby Jones, it might be easier to understand the novel if it is read in a print edition. Often the characters changed without notice and the thread of the story was momentarily lost. As each new event and character is introduced, the reader is forced to try to figure out what place it occupies in the underlying thread. In the end, one wonders will the real spy be identified and caught?

Although waning in literary tale-telling powers Le Carre still manages in this last ever book (author died 12.12.2020) to engage the reader in an interesting story of spying in a quiet backwater of Britain.

Lovely very typical le Carre writing. It did feel a bit unfinished, and mostly dealt with relationships and suspicion among all the former MI6 spies rather than ongoing tradecraft, which is what was so enthralling about his earlier novels.

What a splendid last novel by John le Carre... Last year about this time we lost this great author, and thanks to his son, also a writer, who made a promise to his father to publish an unfinished novel in case of his demise, we do have "Silverview". It has the essence of all le Carre's writing - full of nuances and guesses and leads that bring about a marvel of a plot, as well as masterful turns of phrase! (His dialogues are one of a kind...). The Afterword by Nick Cornwell (le Carre's son who writes as Nick Harkaway) is very touching. He says the book hardly needed any editing, and so he fulfilled the given promise, and the reading world is richer as a result.

One of the more enjoyable Le Carre books that I've read. He is a real master of the dialogue of the British Secret Service.

This novel was unfinished when the author passed. The narrative method of interrogation and investigation resembles The Honourable Schoolboy.

vintage John le Carre, his last (complete) spy thriller published after his demise. From page one onwards one wallows in the hands of a crafty narrator, revealing layer upon layer of backstory, leading you by the hand into the dark and murky world of spy craft, faith and betrayal.

Le Carre applies his trademark story-telling skills, starting with a retired day trader from the City, who settles to a life as a bookseller in a quiet seaside village in East Anglia. In walks a respectable Polish gentleman spy who charms his way into young Julian’s life with old-fashioned manners of speech and quiet reassurance. The Republic of Letters is born, a joint classic book collection and selling project, which incidentally also aids our Polish spy, Edward Avon, to communicate with his network. Which network? That only becomes clear much, much later.

Julian becomes an innocent pawn in one of those historic leaks in British Intelligence. Once the leak has been discovered, the chase is on, with Stewart Proctor, a typical restrained upper class spymaster burrowing backwards into the life of one his first and most valuable Joes, the very Edward Avon (aka Florian) of the classic collection of Ming vases and recently of literary treasures. The backstory touches upon Florian’s Polish Nazi father, his strong anti-fascist and anti-Imperialist idealism, which is turned on its head once he spends a year in Gdansk, when he perceives communism to be a form of advanced connery and starts spying for the British. After the fall of the wall his spy career seems over, until his past stint as a teacher in Croatia and his knowledge of languages, proves useful during the Bosnian war. Here he finds a new cause, which leads him astray from the British, though he is married to an English lady spy, head of the Middle East desk, and settles for a sedate life in a manor (Silverview) at the edge of the village of our new bookseller. And there we go.

The only pity is the briefness of this last Le Carre – in fact the story is quite thin, with no real tradecraft in action.

This is my first le Carre book. At the age of 71, it’s taken me this long to jump into the le Carre pool. Most reviews of “Silverview” say it is as good as the author’s other books. The friend who recommended le Carre, any le Carre, agreed with that statement. I’ve heard that many fans felt this was an inferior book, and that is the reason le Carre decided never to publish it. His son says in the Afterward that this just isn’t true. It has more to do with the novel’s story about British intelligence and its failings. I gave “Silverview” three of five stars because I just flat out had trouble following the plot. This may be due to my inexperience with the genre in general and with le Carre specifically. I admit that my book of choice throughout my life has been nonfiction. I want to learn something new from my reading. That may be part of the problem with my difficulty following the plot line in “Silverview.” I will take it on better opinion than my own that the book is a typical le Carre masterpiece. Just not for me.

Years ago, I never missed a new John le Carré book, but in more recent times, I haven’t been between the covers of any of his books. When the press started up about his 26th book, Silverview, his last novel completed in the ten years before his death, December of 2020, I noticed it. But it wasn’t until I learned that it was somehow centered around a small British bookshop, that I became quite curious. The existence of this review reveals the final level of my curiosity.

We are told that his character, Julian Lawndsley, had been a very successful trader in London before he became a bookseller in a small English town on the coast. As he said, “I have forsaken the glitter of gold for the scent of old paper.” Shortly after his change of location and lifestyle, a man named Edward Avon walks into Lawndsley’s bookshop, and after browsing, casually offered him some advice and a possible investment. He’s a Polish émigré, a retired academic, an old colleague of Julian’s father. In time, he supplies plenty of curious banter, a computer, and some assistance in developing a certain section, to be called the Republic of Literature, which would feature the classics of the great thinkers and authors. Along the way, he asks for a few small favors of Julian, delivering a package to Edward’s mother, and to use the computer he supplied the shop.

Things began to change, and soon Julian learns that his new friend and investor was a former member of M16, Britain’s foreign intelligence service. He also learns that Edward loves two women, one a longtime mistress, and his wife Deborah, who is nearing death from cancer.

After watching my own wife suffer and succumb to cancer, John le Carré impressed me with the following line. “Edward has, as might any man whose wife is dying: the gaze is more inward, the jaw is crisper and the more determined for it, the flowing white hair more disciplined.” When Deborah’s time seems to be running out, le Carré wrote something that again was sadly very familiar to me. “But it could be any day. She knows that, and she doesn’t like pity. She speaks what she thinks and she thinks a lot, so anything can happen, okay?” Soon she is in a morphine-assisted coma and, “Around midnight her doctor certified life extinct.”

How the reader connects with a book can be very personal, and Silverview reached out to me in several ways that were non-crucial to the plot, but drew this particular reader close. Having owned a bookshop that moved and reestablished itself in four new locations, the following line about Julian struck home. “After six weeks of running a stagnant business, he has become quite the connoisseur of people who stare at the shop and don’t come in, and they are beginning to get on his nerves.” While I’m talking about observations that felt so right, the following line brought a smile and sadness to me, a man who was lucky enough to be married to a beautiful woman with a fabulous mane of hair. “Ellen unpins her incomparable auburn hair and lets it cascade over her shoulders, as practiced by beautiful women since the beginning of time.”

“Meanwhile, Edward is being investigated by the service’s head of domestic security, Stewart Proctor.” And with that le Carré adds another major layer to the story, which is what I always loved about his books. It doesn’t take long before Proctor seems to be on a collision course with Edward, and our shopkeeper Julian is caught in the middle of it all.

When things suddenly don’t go as planned, and Edward isn’t where he was expected to be, Proctor sends out his entire team of watchers to scour the area for him. The most important of their instructions is that if they find Edward, “they should restrain him, employing minimal force, but in no circumstances hand him over to the police or anyone else until Proctor has had an opportunity to talk to him.” The old spies are portrayed as decent people who, at the end of their lives, realize their life’s work has accomplished nothing. The book’s last surprise is from Julian’s daughter Lily, who has had a larger role than either the reader or her father knew of.

In a number of reviews people have wondered aloud if because of the brevity of the book, and its sudden ending, if the author had actually finished the manuscript. The New York Times was more generous than I when they said: “And if ‘Silverview’ feels less than fully executed, its sense of moral ambivalence remains exquisitely calibrated. Besides, novelists of le Carré’s stature are not diminished by their lesser efforts.” The Guardian said it like this, “If we’re left dangling by the end, there’s an added tease of sorts in the novel’s billing as le Carré’s “last complete masterwork” – on the strong side, no doubt, but a tag that nonetheless holds out the prospect of rougher treasures still awaiting the light.” I wasn’t feeling satisfied by the way the book wrapped up, and I was also feeling like I was missing something all along. Had my long absence from his writing created an expectation for more than had ever really been there before, or was I not remembering things accurately. Just maybe I need to reach back to a favorite le Carré.

But the story continues in a way in the book’s afterword, which is written by the author’s youngest son, Nick Cornwell. Nick is also a writer, one who writes under the name Nick Harkway. He tells of a promise that he made to his dad about taking this completed manuscript through to publication. “I read it, and my bewilderment deepened. It was fearsomely good.” It was with great relief that he found his father’s book only in need of some minor editing, prompting him to ask, “What, exactly, was I supposed to fix? Should I put eyebrows on this Mona Lisa?”

Nick writes about how his dad was, as always, striving to tell a good story and to tell the truth. Nick continues about his father’s legacy. “But Silverview does something that no other le Carré novel ever has. It shows a service fragmented: filled with its own political factions.” And he adds: “In Silverview, the spies of Britain have, like many of us, lost their certainty about what the country means, and who we are to ourselves.”

I have purposely not given many details of the book’s plot, (go on, buy a book), but overall, it’s a simpler book than many of his previous. As with any spy novel, we are always left with judging how much are we to believe? What do we know for sure?

2021 Book #70. 2021. John Le Carre's last book, he passed last Dec. I normally like his books. This started off good about an ex-spy being investigated for something but the book just abruptly ended before I really understood what was going on. Kind of disappointed.

I had mixed feeling when I heard that there was an almost finished book by John le Carré, which, after some additional work by his son (himself a successful novelist under the name of Nick Harkaway), would be published posthumously. I was glad to know that there might be one last offering from one of my favourite writers, although I was a little worried that it might not live up to the reast of his oeuvre.

To be honest, the first few pages had me leaning towards the latter. The encounter described in the first chapter lacked the flair that one has come to expect (even demand) from le Carré, and I did fleetingly wonder whether I should carry on. Fortunately, I did, and any fears that the book might be below the master’s normal standard were soon dispelled.

It is a small book, but it covers a lot of territory, with a lot of familiar characters. Julian Lawndsley has fled his successful career in the city, and has sought some sort of spiritual sanctuary in a fading seaside resort, where he opens a bookshop. Into his shop comes a quiet elderly man, who strikes up an acquaintance with Julian, and encourages him to assign the shop’s basement as a ‘republic of literature’ where people can access the finest works of literature from around the world. Reading my simple description makes this seem a very dry and unmemorable encounters … but then I am not le Carré, who infuses it with wonder and promise.

Meanwhile, Proctor, latest in a long family line of members of the intelligence world, finds himself investigating a possible breach from what had been thought to be one of the most secure air force establishment. In an episode of vintage le Carré, proctor interviews a couple of former colleagues, piercing their narrative without ever seeming to break interrogative sweat.

It is fair to say that this is not le Carré’s finest novel, but it if far from his worst, and I couldn’t tell which buts had been finished after his death.

LeCarre's last. Read this over this past weekend while my wife was away. Incredible how good this novel is, the man was truly a marvel. His conception of dialogue is probably my favorite of any author. Do not skip his son's afterword. One can always hope that they find ANOTHER complete manuscript in a drawer somewhere.

Silverview, John le Carré’s final book, has all the elements that made his earlier books such fantastic reads. It has former spies, current spies, hard-nosed cynics, naive innocents, betrayed husbands, faithless wives, several plot strands that come together (mostly) and – did I mention the spies? It includes the author’s trademark dislike of the Americans, especially their intelligence services, which places him in the long tradition of many British writers, most famously Graham Greene.

The book appears at the same as the launch of the new James Bond film and serves as a reminder of how very differently Ian Fleming and le Carré approached their subjects. Both men had served in the British intelligence services, and both participated to one degree or another in the Cold War. But while to Fleming, British spies like Bond were defending civilisation as we know it against a ruthless and immoral enemy, le Carré’s world is much greyer one, a world in which it is hard to tell the heroes from the villains (if indeed there heroes and villains at all).

No, it is not his finest work. But one is instantly immersed in a familiar world, and the author still knew — in his 90s — how to tell a great story.