Tuesday 30 October 2012

Book: 'Hopscotch' by Brian Garfield (1975)

Some nights ago the dreaded insomnia struck and I profitably used the time to finish the enjoyable 1975 spy thriller 'Hopscotch' by Brian Garfield, which is not to be confused with the more comedic film adaptation he co-wrote for 1980. I actually like that film, mainly because of the mysteriously cool presence of the late Walter Matthau. That man could have held any movie together in his pomp. I will not be doing a comparison between the movie and the book though, as the tones are different and I don't have the DVD. Quick, someone, send me one!

Let's segue to plot. In 'Hopscotch', a veteran Central Intelligence Agency operative called Miles Kendig is retired from active duty to a desk job with the only alternative being total retirement. Taking offence he sabotages his records and quits, searching for some meaning in a life that holds no challenges or risks anymore. Finally, after some ennui, he does what an unhappily retired action man does and makes a new game, threatening to out the leading intelligence agencies of the world with a new book disclosing all their underhanded acts. Hence Kendig's role in his new game is that of the quarry. Can he survive the eventual endgame, and then what will happen after?

My overriding impression is that this is an impressive novel, of comparatively little depth but with some teased character development. Kendig moves from a state of sickened boredom and aimlessness to someone with the self-control and presence to live again away from what he's known before, perhaps find love, and direct his own activities in life. Kendig's arc is somewhat coupled to that of the CIA agent assigned to catch him, his former protegé Joe Cutter, who was played so nicely by Sam Waterstone in the movie. Cutter is the second lead of the story, the sympathetic pursuer that ultimately doesn't want to succeed but will go for it anyway just because he's a professional. Ultimately it's that conflict that lets him sign off on Kendig being dead at the end (in the movie especially) despite the doubts he must have. He knows. Cutter represents one element of the CIA, Kendig's part, while their boss Myerson represents the 'dirty tricks' brigade with the real motivation to catch the rogue. At the time there were real media tensions with the CIA, and something called 'The Church Enquiry' which lent a lot of topicality to books such as this.

As 'Basil The Great Mouse Detective' whirs away on the television, and I begin to sum up, I find myself slightly mixed in my feelings on this book. It's not so technically good as or as oddly enthralling as 'The Spy Who Came In From The Cold' by Le Carre but I believe that I'm far more likely to revisit it than that Cold War classic. Perhaps it's down to the movie connection, or the paucity of spy novels in my collection, but I believe there's something more. This novel won the Edgar Award of 1976 and I believe that the solid balance of the narrative between Kendig and his old agency, as well as the mild character development, the tug of loyalty that makes Cutter a believable agent, and the wonder at how Kendig can finish the game and survive all make it perfectly worthwhile. It's hard to not picture Herbert Lom whenever Soviet spy chief Yaskov is featured though, or see the Waterstone twinkle in Cutter's lines. The only one who's hard to associate with the novel character is Kendig himself, who varies much in tone between the two versions.

Summing up, this is a great bestseller spy novel, and one I shall return to again and maybe even again. It's slick and sleek, shallow but fast, and a novel for those days when you can't face something far far harder.

O.

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