Hodder & Stoughton, 7 November 2024
Available as: HB, 400pp, audio, e
Source: Advance e-copy
ISBN(HB): 9781399717342
I like talking about books, reading books, buying books, dusting books... er, just being with books.
In Karla's Choice, we return to Smiley's heyday, the 1960s, and see George, who has temporarily left the Circus after the events of The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, called back in a crisis (as of course would happen several more times and it's nice to see how Harkaway docks his Smiley seamlessly with the one in his father's books). In true le Carré fashion, an apparently minor event has set alarm bells ringing in the corridors of the Circus and someone is needed to attend to business.
So we get to see the Circus again, perhaps not quite in all its pomp (we'd have to go back to wartime for that) but as a more powerful organisation than the burnt out shell it becomes later. And we also meet its denizens, not least the mole who will be unmasked in earlier books (if you follow the sequence). I won't name them in case you haven't read those books yet, but the knowledge of that person's later betrayal certainly provides a frisson here when secrets are being discussed...
In the best tradition of these stories, Karla's Choice offers us an apparently dry narration enlivened by a lot of erudition and plenty of secrets - tradecraft, ruminations on the Cold War, both practical and moral, and, of course, humour. There is also the tension between the grizzled inmates of the Circus and a young woman - a Hungarian refugee, Susanna Gero - who is about to be immersed in their life when the secret world, the world of Smiley and Karla, reaches out for her. How and why it does that - and why her boss has disappeared - unfolds unhurriedly, but in detail, throughout the book. There's a sense here of the story being deeply rooted in history, the history of the 20th century yes, very recent events to the protagonists such as the Hungarian uprising but also the century's backstory, the old Tsarist days which led to Soviet Russia.
Relationships are also central, especially the one that develops in this book between George and Susannah. This is complex. One of them is reluctant to keep playing these games, disillusioned even in his own mind, but still accepting of the twisted logic of the looking-glass war, if always on the verge of smashing the mirror. The other is new to the whole scene and inclined to be judgemental - but also, seems to have a more ruthless streak, understandably given she's crossed Europe seeking refuge (people were still allowed to do that in the 60s). Perhaps she actually knows more than she's letting on?
We also see various stranded and beached figures who will become the famous faces of the chronologically later stories - incipient alcoholic Connie, for example; Control, before the catastrophe that is a few years down the line. And of course George's wife, with Karla's Choice perhaps equally deserving of the title Ann's Choice...
All in all, a fascinating and thrilling addition to the Smiley canon, the plot meaty, the tone perfect, the revelations and embroidering of the Circus mythology rich, fitting and gorgeous. Harkaway shows here that, yes, the menu is excellent and the chef really can cook.
For more information about Karla's Choice, see the publisher's website here.
Taking place, like many of Swanson's stories written both under this name and as Louise Beech, in Hull, the story is rooted in the everyday but transcends that ordinariness by having external forces impose something weird on the local population - in this case, a power outage every night, intended to save energy. Reminding me somewhat of the power cuts of the 70s, which I lived through, it also evokes the dislocation of the Covid lockdown and some of the social strains and tensions that emerged than and since (while I think not intended, I also saw some resonance with this summer's riots). So, while the main device is invented, it also feels close to recent experience.
At the centre of things is Grace, for whom the loss of light on these dark winter evenings is a huge deal because she has a terror of the dark following some murky events in her childhood (which will gradually be revealed). It doesn't help that a prowler is abroad, assaulting women when the lights are off - and that someone (whether or not the same intruder) begins to enter her house at night leave odd presents and messages. Creepy or what?
So things get very menacing very early on. In other hands, this could go very wrong - where, exactly, do you go next with the story? - but Swanson knows how to wind up the tension still further, and then stiller further, if that makes sense. There's an almost palpable strain - a kind of mental keening - as Grace attempts to balance her day job (and sometimes night - she works shifts at a hospice) with her fear of the dark, to maintain her relationship with an (obviously no-good) husband, a domineering mother and that abiding mystery (an element of which is that her dad went missing when she was a kid). Honestly, at times I had to put the book down and just BREATHE, so tense does it get. But I never left it sitting there for long.
A book with a strong sense of how hurts from the past can fester - a major theme is the need to remember and confront, and to resist the easy solution of forgetting - and of how parents can mess up their kids' lives (they may not mean to but they do) this is also a taut, nailbitting thriller yet has many tender moments. You'll be rooting for Grace, I guarantee. This is Louise Swanson at the top of her game.
For more information about Lights Out, see the publisher's website here.