Red Sparrow, by Jason Matthews

9781476706122
Scribner, 2013
429 pp

hardcover

Just as an aside, summer reading is so liberating!

Red Sparrow is kind of like those old Cold War spy novels I used to devour.  I rarely read current spy novels -- with only a few exceptions, American spy fiction these days is all about al-Qaeda, some splinter terrorist groups, Navy SEALS, or Army special ops type stuff, etc -- none of which I really want to read.   So, when I heard about Red Sparrow, I bought it in a hurry, because once again, the espionage action heats up between the US and Russia.  While the Cold War era may officially be over, one of the main ideas that runs through this book is that while Russia's system of government may have changed on the outside, underneath the facade the same old apparatus is still in place.  Considering that the author put in 33 years with the CIA, he obviously knows what he's talking about.  There's a really good story here, and for the most part I had fun reading this novel, but it has its frustrating moments. 

Nathaniel (Nate) Nash is a CIA field agent who for some time has been in charge of handling an important Russian department chief, code name MARBLE.  MARBLE is a terrific asset: he's a mole who for personal reasons, decided to get back at the then Soviet government and began passing Langley some "incalculably valuable intelligence," none the least of which are the names of Americans who were spying for the Russians.  In Russia, Nate's job is to pick up intelligence from MARBLE; he is also in charge of his safety before, during and after their meetings.  After one such meeting, Nate's cover is blown -- and somehow the Russians figure out that he is in charge of the mole. They don't know who MARBLE is, but they decide to send in a secret weapon to take care of Nate. Their asset comes in the form of Domenika, a promising up and comer in the ballet until an accident leaves her unable to dance, who is then recruited by her uncle -- ultimately becoming a "sparrow," the name for agents skilled in the arts of eliciting secrets from high-level targets through sex.

There is  a good story in Red Sparrow, complete with amazing spycraft details, turf wars between agencies, creepy Russian characters,  and a beautiful woman (the "red sparrow" of the title). The author succeeds in developing an atmosphere of mistrust and fear, which is one of the best things about this book, along with  several intense moments where things could go one way or the other, where what's going to happen next is up in the air.  If you're a fanatic spy novel reader, you'll also notice a nod to Le Carre that's unmistakeable. Characterwise, the Russian baddies are perhaps a little stereotyped, and for me, using Putin in here as a character didn't work so well.  The portrayal of the deep cover character SWAN is a little over the top, but otherwise, the characters are drawn well and credible, especially that of MARBLE -- probably the best character portrayal in the entire novel. When Matthews writes about the CIA and spycraft in general, he's at the top of his game, although sometimes the inner monologues and dialogue tend to get a little flaky.  What really bothered me the most, leaving me wondering at the outset if I should bail,  was that it seems like every time the action was heating up toward the end of the chapter, the author inserts a recipe,  which sort of kills the suspense that's been building. I seriously couldn't help but think of all of those cozy mysteries where the author sticks in recipes and I just didn't see the point here -- for me, it was a letdown.  While the author notes in an online interview that he felt "a serious spy novel with recipes at the end of each chapter would be different and provocative," and that "The recipes are elliptical and abbreviated. They're more like clues than formal recipes," they seriously interrupted the reading flow to the point of frustration. They're also hard to gloss over or ignore (although I did end up doing just that) because  they're set apart in a box that reminiscent of an index/recipe card, so ignoring them is a little tough -- at least at first. 

 

To be really honest, the blurb on the back that says that this book should "take its place alongside leCarre's The Spy Who Came in From the Cold" led me to believe that something absolutely stunning was to be found here,  but I think the blurber (Doug Stanton) was a little overambitious in his praise.  Considering that this is Matthews' first novel, it was for the most part, very well done and I wouldn't hesitate at all to recommend it to other readers of spy fiction, keeping in mind my comments above.  I'm happy I stuck with it, because as it turns out, it's an  entertaining novel, and I'll definitely be keeping my eye out for the author's next book. 

*Casino Royale, by Ian Fleming

014200202x
Penguin, 2002
181 pp
 originally published 1953

softcover

[p. 483 - 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die]

"Be faithful, spy well, or you die."

Weighing in at only 181 pages, Casino Royale is the first installment of the 14-book James Bond series.   The Bond of this novel will probably come across as a bit of a surprise to some readers who are familiar with his larger-than-life, superspy cinema persona, which oozes sexiness, indestructibility, confidence, and machismo. Here he comes across as more of a misogynistic, flawed individual, prone to self doubt and a bit of introspection at times. In short, he tends to be  more human than the often over-the-top movie portrayals lead us to believe.

Casino Royale begins rather slowly, with Bond on assignment to take down Monsieur Le Chiffre, a man with adopted name whose aliases include "variations on the words 'cypher' or 'number'." He is a Soviet agent (remember -- this was written in 1953 and the Cold War is already on fire) entrusted with fifty million francs to finance a Communist-controlled trade union in France, a group which could prove troublesome as a "fifth column" in case of war with the USSR.  Le Chiffre, it seems, has parlayed the trade union funds into several incredibly bad investments and is currently on the edge of financial disaster.  Bond's masters believe the only way to bring him down and destroy his standing with the Soviets is to bankrupt him entirely; but to do this they need someone who can outdo him at cards -- it seems that the enigmatic Monsieur Le Chiffre has come up short and is using his skills at  baccarat to try to make up his losses.  Bond is the perfect man for the job; he goes to the casino at Royale-Les-Eaux to watch Le Chiffre and then take him on at cards.  One serious complication has arisen: agents from SMERSH, an acronym for Smyert Shpionam, "death to spies," have caught wind of Le Chiffre's activities and are on his tail, unbeknownst to Le Chiffre.  Bond's going to need some help -- along with Mathis, a French intelligence agent, and Felix Leiter of the CIA, London sends Vesper Lynd, a sultry, sexy woman whose involvement is at first resented by Bond.  This is not going to be easy -- it isn't long until there's an assassination attempt, and that's only the beginning of Bond's problems.


I must say I was a bit surprised to find a more human, fallible Bond characterized here, one whose take on women is that

"women are for recreation. On a job, they got in the way and fogged things up with sex and hurt feelings and all the emotional baggage they carried around."

This Bond also is capable of questioning the rightness of what he does, capable of reflection in a world where "the villains and heroes get all mixed up." As he notes,

"...the country-right-or wrong business is getting a little out-of-date. Today we are fighting Communism. Okay.  If I'd been alive fifty years ago, the brand of Conservatism we have today would have been damn near called Communism and we should have been told to go and fight that. History is moving pretty quickly these days and the heroes and villains keep on changing parts."

At the same time, this Bond becomes the sum of his experience -- I won't say why or how, but he evolves from a man who loses himself in love into a hardhearted, cold, licensed to kill 007 with a single-minded mission, to "go after the threat behind the spies, the threat that made them spy."

The events in Casino Royale set the foundation for Bond's long career and if you're looking for something lighter, it's  actually quite a good read.  It starts rather slow, but picks up quickly.  In today's vast array of high-tech spy fiction, this novel may seem a bit old fashioned with little action, but more interesting here is Bond's character.  I'll also mention that a large number of reviewers were somewhat disgusted with Bond's attitudes toward women and the very apparent sexism that runs throughout the book, but hold on.  This book was published in 1953, not 2013; it's highly unfair to judge the mores (read mor-ays) of a particular time or of the writer and hold them to today's standards.  IMHO (which is indeed humble), giving a book a 1 or 2 star rating on the basis of its treatment of women some 60 years ago is just wrong.

 The whole time I was reading this book, I was amazed at how this short little novel morphed into the action-packed thriller it became in 2006.  If you're a spy fiction person, like I am, it's a definite no-miss; if you've seen the movies and want to know how it all started, this is a great resource.

*Document Z, by Andrew Croome

9781741757439
Allen and Unwin, 2010
350 pp
softcover

There is a reason why I never skip the author's notes section in a book, and reading through them today just after having finished the story,  I came to discover that this novel is a fictional re-imagining of a real event that took place in Australia during the Cold War years of the 1950s.  I'd previously never heard of what ultimately became known as "the Petrov Affair," the defection of  two Soviets working at the Soviet embassy in Canberra that ultimately revealed clandestine Soviet activity in different areas of Australia's government.  Vladimir (Volodya) Petrov and his wife Evdokia held diplomatic posts at the embassy, but in reality they were also spies working for the MVD, the USSR's Ministry of Internal Affairs.  Further exploration led to an incredible photo which mirrors the action occurring as the novel opens, that of Evdokia being escorted through a crowd at Sydney's then Mascot Airport by a couple of big, brawny minders whose job is to get her on a flight that will eventually take her back to Moscow after her husband defected.  

from vrroom.naa.gov.au

The reason why Evdokia looks so panicked is not just that she's headed back to Moscow  to face an uncertain future where who knows what will happen to her or her family, but in those pre- 9/11 days,  the tarmac is actually surrounded by a mob of angry people who are trying to block her access to the airplane, trying to keep her off of it and free in Sydney, a scene also realistically depicted in the novel.

from watoday.com.au

 The question Andrew Croome asks is how did it come down to this?  The answer is laid out in this most excellent, intelligent and engaging novel as he reconstructs not only the events leading up to this particular day in 1954, but also as he imagines the inner turmoil of the Petrovs during their time at the Soviet embassy in Canberra, especially after the death of Stalin and the arrest of Beria become a major game changer. Added to the Petrovs, Croome brings in other players in the game, both Soviet and Australian, and also explores life for the Petrovs after their defections to some extent as well. 

The story begins three years earlier introducing the Petrovs, moving through their daily work routines and their home life in Canberra.  Coming to Australia from a post in Sweden,  Evdokia is secretly a captain in MVD intelligence decrypting coded messsages but openly works for the ambassador, while ironically, the job of  Vladimir  (also a spy) is to prevent defections.  But within the embassy it's all about power, political intrigue, and paranoia; the Petrovs often find themselves on the receiving end of trouble, with trumped-up charges that find their way back to Moscow in the ambassador's reports; no small worry for Evdokia who still has family back in the Soviet Union. They are also sure they are being watched constantly outside of the embassy, but they're not sure who is and is not an agent spying on them.  Then the ambassador receives word of Stalin's death and Beria's arrest -- and when Evdokia and Vladimir are told that they are being replaced and will be returning home shortly thereafter, Vladimir, who has been secretly courted as ripe for defection, decides the time is right to make his move but tells Evdokia nothing. 

Not only is the story behind the Petrov defections  intriguing and compelling on its own, the author's re-imagining of their personal lives is also credible. There is not a great deal of emotion shared by this couple; often they come across as rather flat together but all the same their inner lives are in turmoil. Evdokia cannot stop thinking of her dead daughter; Vladimir drinks, visits prostitutes and is faced with the life-changing experience of giving away his country's secrets.  Add in the author's excellent depiction of the political atmosphere of the time, as well as the workings of the fledgling Australian Security Intelligence Organization (ASIO), and  Document Z  jumps miles above the usual spy fare. In fact, after I finished the book and went on to read what I could about "The Petrov Affair," I was taken aback at the  realistic tone of the author's rendition of this story.  I couldn't put it down while reading it and most definitely recommend it. 

fiction from Australia