Agent Running in the Field: A Scathing Indictment of a Country Selling Itself Out
“It is my considered opinion, that for Britain and Europe, and for liberal democracy across the entire world as a whole, Britain’s departure from the European Union in the time of Donald Trump, and Britain’s consequent unqualified dependence on the United States in an era when the US is heading straight down the road to institutional racism and neo-fascism, is an unmitigated clusterfuck bar none.”
— John le Carre, Agent Running in the Field
The separation of literature from genre fiction is arbitrary gatekeeping. Few authors demonstrate this more than John le Carre. Every single book fits in on the Mystery/Thriller shelf at Barnes & Noble, but even his middling work presents an insightful look into the world at the time. Le Carre, whose first novel, A Murder of Quality, released in 1961, consistently uses the familiar thriller genre to give readers looking for an exciting plot an opportunity to reflect on the world they live in. And while his newest novel isn’t particularly revolutionary in the same way Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy was, it is an interesting reflection on the place of intelligence in pre-Brexit Britain. As a John Le Carre novel, it is middling. But it is a middling novel from one of the great literary voices of the late 20th century and the early 21st century. The only disappointment comes from the fact that at the age of 88, the author will likely have few, if any, more books coming out.
John le Carre’s early George Smiley novels are the antidote to Ian Fleming’s James Bond books. Bond is suave, perfect, confident in the superiority of White British values (especially in the face of those ungrateful people of the Commonwealth realms), and always succeeds in his mission. George Smiley is overweight, middle-aged, mild-mannered, and self-deprecating. While he is incredible at spycraft, he makes mistakes and causes suffering. He also is skeptical of the Cold War that he is a pawn in and has more in common with his Soviet and East German counterparts than his own countrymen.
Agent Running in the Field doesn’t take place in the George Smiley universe but touches on familiar tropes. Nat, the main character, is an attractive man in good shape, but he is not particularly remarkable outside of his secret work that he excels at. He concentrates on long-term relationships that take years to cultivate. He is fluent in English, Russian, Russian with a French accent, French with a Russian accent, and dumb English-speaking tourist in a Russian-speaking country. He loves badminton, is supportive of his daughter Steff, and regrets being away from home so much when his career progressed. He doesn’t drive an Aston Martin, and his office rebuked him for spending office money on a Taxi when there was a bus that went on a similar route.
The main conflict involves hunting down a mole sending secrets to the Kremlin. There are dead drops, listening devices, and even a passing reference to honeypots. One might expect a modern spy novel to involve more hacking and cryptography, but John le Carre sticks to what he knows. The lack of gimmicks mean that the story focuses on the state of Britain in the quaint period of 2018. Nat despises reporting to a “pig-ignorant” foreign secretary like Boris Johnson and finds Labour to be no better than the current government of 10th-raters. His wife, Prudence, is a human rights lawyer who spends her day fighting big pharma. One of the other main characters, Ed, is a young, educated 20-something full of righteous anger about Trump, Putin, and Britain’s betrayal of its European in favor of closer relations with an America enduring creeping neo-fascism.
Le Carre is known for his outspoken left-wing politics, and a less skilled writer would use this novel as a mouthpiece for their views. But the characters talk like people. Nat talks politics like anyone would. His wife is just as angry but revels in fighting injustice. Their daughter Steff handles the daily life of a student. Ed constantly expresses his fury at the state of the world in a way that even annoys people on the same side. He is the friend you want to take aside at a party and tell them, “Listen, you’re right. But you need to shut the hell up and let us have a break.” Even minor characters like the double agent Sergei and the former MI6 source Arkady could easy have books about them. It is mind-boggling that all this characterization can take place in 280 pages of relatively large font.
Le Carre advocated for the rights of Palestinians in person to Margaret Thatcher before it became fashionable to boycott Israel, he wrote about Chechnya before most of the English-speaking world knew what that was, and he wrote a sympathetic portrayal of an East German Stasi agent when Cold War propaganda was at its height. He was always ahead of his time. And as he expresses anxiety about the world plunging into violence as authoritarianism grows in the US and Europe, I hope he is wrong for once. And while this might not be the most original spy novel of all time, it still showcases that at 88, the author is still a literary giant with more insight into the modern world.
Most importantly, it is a testament to John le Carre’s mastery of literature that he can make Badminton seem interesting. Read this book.
