This has been praised as a literary thriller that helped shape the espionage thriller genre, and I've seen Deighton compared to Dickens, contrasted favorably to Ian Fleming.
Frankly, this struck me as rather juvenile. Unlike Fleming, Deighton doesn't have a background in intelligence, and the book never struck me as plausible. It's more Get Smart than Graham Greene or John LeCarre--or even Tom Clancy. This is Len Deighton's first novel--before this he had been working as an illustrator according to his introduction--and it shows. An illustrator (as opposed to an artist) has to pretty much cover the page. His descriptions are overwritten--engorged with random elements rather than carefully chosen telling details. The narration is even crowded with intrusive footnotes.
Set in the early sixties at the height of the cold war, the story is told in a conversational and often sarcastic voice by the unnamed narrator, a British intelligence officer. First person usually allows for a feeling of intimacy and a crisp point of view. Yet this narration was so rambling and confusing I'd go over passages twice to try to get what was going on and failing. And given what I've read in the other reviews, I'm not the only reader confused. A slog to read and not enough payoff to make the difficulties worth it.
