Showing posts with label Len Deighton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Len Deighton. Show all posts

Saturday, June 20, 2020

Bullet Points: Pre-Father’s Day Edition

• If you’re not sufficiently aware of this already, tomorrow night will bring the debut of HBO-TV’s eight-part Perry Mason mini-series starring Matthew Rhys (The Americans). It’s conceived as a prequel to the classic 1957-1966 CBS series of that same name, which cast Raymond Burr as the almost unbeatable Los Angeles criminal defense attorney introduced by Erle Stanley Gardner in 1933’s The Case of the Velvet Claws. HBO’s version, set just one year before that—in 1932—imagines Mason as a down-and-out, heavy-drinking private eye “retained for a sensational child kidnapping trial, and his investigation portends major consequences for Mason, his client, and the city itself.” The character Rhys plays here is actually closer than Burr’s portrayal was to Gardner’s original conception of Mason as (to quote from Otto Penzler’s The Private Lives of Private Eyes, Spies, Crime Fighters and Other Good Guys) a “hard-boiled, two-fisted and noncerebral” advocate for justice. But writers/showrunners Ron Fitzgerald and Rolin Jones have sought to flesh out their protagonist’s back story, as well. The Killing Times explains: “Mason is haunted by his wartime experiences in France and suffering the effects of a broken marriage.” An extended, noir-accented trailer (found here) nicely captures Depression-era L.A., with its recent Olympic Games, its unlikely “evangelical fervor,” the rise of the oil industry, and of course its Hollywood glamour. Vulture calls this new Perry Mason “a simultaneously gorgeous, gritty, and sometimes downright gory period piece filled with fine performances.” John Lithgow, Tatiana Maslany, Shea Whigham, Stephen Root, and Robert Patrick join Rhys in the cast. After disappointing previous attempts to revive Perry Mason (remember Monte Markham’s The New Perry Mason of 1973-1974?), it will be nice if HBO can draw upon what fans like about Gardner’s protagonist, while imbuing his story with greater emotional depth and substance. I’ll be watching with my fingers crossed.

• Scottish writer Lee Randall contributes a useful backgrounder about Gardner to CrimeReads, in which she recalls the lawyer-turned-author’s original intent with Mason: “I want to make my hero a fighter, not by having him be ruthless with women and underlings, but by having him wade into the opposition and battle his way through to victory. … [T]he character I am trying to create for him is that of a fighter who is possessed of infinite patience. He tries to jockey his enemies into a position where he can deliver one good knockout punch.” Yep, that nicely sums up the typical Mason yarn.

• Florida journalist Craig Pittman provides something of a public-service piece to aspiring legal-thriller writers, consulting various attorneys who have become novelists on how one might best compose realistic courtroom dramas. “I would suggest that authors treat courtroom scenes much like any other and not let the legal and technical details override the narrative,” says Alafair Burke, once a prosecutor in Oregon and now a professor at New York’s Hofstra University School of Law. “Too many courtroom scenes read like an intentional display of the research the author conducted to prepare for the scene. Instead, focus on character, setting, plot, dialogue—all the things that drive a good book. If the legal details don’t further a critical aspect of the narrative, skip them.”

Crimespree Magazine brings word that writer Val McDermid “has unveiled the hotly tipped ‘New Blood’ authors for 2020, showcasing the year’s best breakout crime-writing talent.” Her choices:

— Deepa Anappara, Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line (Chatto & Windus)
— Elizabeth Kay, Seven Lies (Sphere)
— Jessica Moor, Keeper (Penguin)
— Trevor Wood, The Man on the Street (Quercus)

“Since 2004,” explains Crimespree’s Erin Mitchell, “the best-selling Scottish author of the Tony Hill and Carol Jordan series has curated an annual celebration of the most formidable debuts taking the crime and thriller genre by storm, with an invitation to join the line-up of the world’s largest and most prestigious crime-fiction festival: Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival.” Although this year’s festival was cancelled due to the pandemic, Mitchell says McDermid’s 2020 “New Blood” showcase “will be streamed on the festival’s HIF Player on what would have been the legendary weekender on Saturday 25 July 2020.” You should be able to access the audio here at that time.

• I know, I know, it’s the frickin’ middle of June already, but only now am I finally getting around to remarking upon Mike Ripley’s latest edition of his “Getting Away with Murder” column for Shots. Featured among his plentiful subjects this time are: older books he’s taken up reading during the COVID-19 lockdown; forgotten writers Douglas Sanderson (Blondes Are My Trouble) and Peter Leslie (Bootleg Angel); fresh crime fiction by Sharon Bolton, Douglas Lindsay, Barbara Nadel, and Martin Walker; and the end of the line for the Top Notch Thrillers and Ostara Crime imprints, for which Ripley served as editor.

• In Reference to Murder features this tidbit:
Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards announced this year's winners, including in the Mystery Category. The Gold winner was Below the Fold by R.G. Belsky; Silver winner was A Plain Vanilla Murder by Susan Wittig Albert; and Bronze winner was Moonscape by Julie Weston. In the Thriller Category, the Gold winner was The Nine by Jeanne Blasberg; the Silver winner was The Unrepentant by E.A. Aymar; and the Bronze winner was Green Valley by Louis Greenberg. The Guilt We Carry by Samuel W. Gailey was also a Thriller Honorable Mention.
• Congratulations to Joe Kenney for 10 years at the helm of Glorious Trash, one of the best blogs about forgotten (and sometimes best-forgotten) works of paperback fiction.

What a beautiful selection of vintage B-movie posters, all painted by Albert Kallis. I’m particularly fond of his placards for The Brain Eaters and The Astounding She-Monster, two science-fiction productions released in 1958.

• Like so many other writers, San Francisco-area author Mark Coggins has decided to launch a podcast during the COVID-19 lockdown. It’s called Riordan’s Desk, after his series private eye, August Riordan, and he’s currently reading chapters from his latest Riordan novel, The Dead Beat Scroll (2019). Chapter 15 just went up a few days ago. To listen, look for Riordan's Desk on iTunes or any of the popular podcast directories. Or, to listen from the Web, click here.



• Seeing as we’re now just a little over a month away from the TNT-TV premiere of The Alienist: Angel of Darkness, the eight-episode mini-series sequel to last year’s acclaimed Victorian-era thriller, The Alienist, don’t you think it’s time to watch a trailer for that new production? You’ll find a good one embedded above. Both shows are adapted from crime novels published in the 1990s by Caleb Carr. The Killing Times offers this synopsis of the coming sequel:
In The Alienist: Angel of Darkness, Sara [Howard] has opened her own private detective agency and is leading the charge on a brand-new case. She reunites with Dr. [Laszlo] Kreizler and John Moore, now a New York Times reporter, to find Ana Linares, the kidnapped infant daughter of the Spanish Consular. Their investigation leads them down a sinister path of murder and deceit, heading towards a dangerous and elusive killer.

The promo blurb says that series two will “shine a light on the provocative issues of the era—the corruption of institutions, income inequality, yellow press sensationalism, and the role of women in society—themes that still resonate today.”
This new mini-series is set to drop on Sunday, July 26.

• In other small-screen news, Variety reports that “Amazon is developing a series centered on Lisbeth Salander, the character created by Stieg Larsson for the so-called Millenium books. The project, which is currently titled The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, will not be a sequel or continuation of the story from the books or the films into which they were adapted. It will instead take Salander and place her in today’s world with a wholly new setting, new characters, and a new story. No writer or lead actress is currently attached to the series.”

• And January Magazine recommends that Harlan Coben followers tune in to “a six-part Netflix mini-series based on The Woods, Coben’s 2007 novel,” it’s action transferred from New Jersey to Poland. “The switch creates some real magic: Coben’s terrific storytelling reimagined here with a gritty European sensibility,” January enthuses. Netflix debuted this six-part mini-series on June 12.

• For some reason, Janet Rudolph posted her list of Father’s Day mysteries last month. But tomorrow is actually Father’s Day here in the States, so let’s revisit that collection of titles now.

• As a veteran newspaper guy, I was interested to read this excerpt of a story from The Wall Street Journal about how some struggling local papers “are shutting down their [printing] presses and, to save money for distant corporate owners, printing their daily editions at other newspaper headquarters hours away. The papers still bear the names of the cities where they’re read, but they roll off presses elsewhere, sometimes in different states.” Included with that excerpt is a fabulous scene from the 1952 picture Deadline—U.S.A., in which “crusading managing editor” Humphrey Bogart instructs his press room foreman to start running the giant presses, churning out copies of the broadsheet containing an exposé of a mobster’s misdeeds. “That’s the press, baby. The press,” he tells the doomed hood over the phone. “And there’s nothing you can do about it. Nothing.”

• November 1 is the deadline for essay proposals on the theme of “Historical Crime Fiction,” the focus of a future edition of Clues: A Journal of Detection. The mag’s managing editor, Elizabeth Foxwell, explains that Rosemary Erickson Johnsen (Contemporary Feminist Historical Crime Fiction) will act guest-edit that issue.

• I’m very sorry to learn that Spanish novelist Carlos Ruiz Zafón, best known worldwide for penning 2001’s The Shadow of the Wind, died Friday from colorectal cancer. He was only 55 years old. An obituary in The Guardian notes that this Barcelona-born fictionist “was frequently described as the most-read Spanish author since Cervantes,” and it quotes Zafón as saying “he felt he had ‘no other choice’ but to be a writer: ‘Sometimes people ask me what piece of advice I would give to an aspiring author. I’d tell them that you should only become a writer if the possibility of not becoming one would kill you. Otherwise, you’d be better off doing something else. I became a writer, a teller of tales, because otherwise I would have died, or worse.’”

• Also announced was the demise of Grace F. Edwards, a Harlem mystery writer and former executive director of the Harlem Writers Guild, who passed away on February 25 of this year, at age 87. “Though she began writing at age 7,” recalls The New York Times, “Grace F. Edwards waited until she was 55 to publish her first novel. That book, In the Shadow of the Peacock, was a lush portrayal of Harlem during World War II, a girl’s coming-of-age story set against the race riots of the time. It was a placeholder for the six detective stories she would later write, mysteries set in Harlem starring a female cop turned sociologist and accidental sleuth named Mali Anderson, always with a backbeat of jazz. The first of these, If I Should Die, was published in 1997, when Ms. Edwards was 64.”

• Finally, I offer a sad good-bye to Dennis “Denny” O’Neil. The Spy Command explains that O’Neil was “a comic book writer and editor who [in the 1970s] returned Batman to his dark origins,” following a very lighthearted period “during the run of the 1966-68 television series starring Adam West.” In an obituary of his own, author Scott D. Parker describes O’Neil as “easily one of the people you’d put on the Mt. Rushmore of Batman creators.” Meanwhile, Terence Towles Canote writes that “In addition to his work in comic books, Dennis O’Neil also wrote several novels, including The Bite of Monsters (1971) and Dragon’s Fists – Richard Dragon, Kung Fu Master (with Jim Berry, 1974), as well as novels ... featuring Batman and Green Lantern. Over the years he also wrote several stories and novellas published in such magazines as Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Fantasy & Science Fiction, Fantastic Stories, and Unknown Worlds of Science Fiction.” O’Neil died on June 11 at age 81.

• A few author interviews worth your attention: For her excellent Speaking of Mysteries podcast, Nancie Clare talks with both Craig Robertson (Watch Him Die) and Paul D. Marks (The Blues Don’t Care); Steve Powell goes one-on-one with Shelley Blanton Stroud (Copy Boy); Rich Ehisen quizzes Timothy Jay Smith (A Fire on the Island); and MysteryPeople’s Scott Montgomery chats with James Wade about the latter’s new novel, All Things Left Wild.

• Len Deighton enthusiast Rob Mallows relates the tale of his longtime search for “a simple postcard, part of the marketing materials for the first UK edition of SS-GB.”

• My late father and I generally had quite different TV-watching tastes. He was partial to fare such as Hee Haw, The Benny Hill Show, Hunter, The A-Team, and Walker, Texas Ranger, none of which I fancied. However, we did watch The Rockford Files together. In fact, I think I may have introduced him to that 1974-1980 NBC detective series, after enjoying its pilot film. Only later did I learn that my father had been a fan of actor James Garner ever since the late 1950s, when he starred in Maverick. But my point here is that I enjoyed Rockford when it was originally broadcast, and I take just as much pleasure in watching episodes occasionally more than four decades later. So I was a prime candidate to appreciate Nathan Ward’s recent tribute to the show, in CrimeReads. It contains numerous smile-inducing reminders of what the series offered, the first of those being Ward’s fond memory of the 1974 pilot:
The first show did not reek of tough-guy promise. First of all, [Rockford] turned down the job he was hired for not once but twice, and except for his California P.I. license he seemed like just another big affable guy with ordinary problems: an understocked fridge, people hectoring him through his answering machine. His concerns seemed unheroic and, perhaps worst of all, he did not even carry a gun, keeping one only for emergencies in a cookie jar in the kitchen of his house trailer. And when at one point his client asked, a little concerned, “You’re not afraid of him, are you?” he told her the truth, “You’re damn right I am.”

But what grabbed me from the first episode was one hilarious scene: Jim Rockford, tired of being trailed by … [a] muscular killer (William Smith) in a long red convertible, pulls into the Mayfair Music Hall, a Santa Monica venue of vaudeville-era entertainments. The bow-tied bartender greets Rockford and asks “The usual?” as a young woman performs a slow split atop a wire, meaning Jim either comes here often to lose a tail or he likes novelty acts. After his brawny pursuer enters the bar and growls his drink order, Jim heads to the men’s room to prepare his trap. The Mayfair switches to a troupe of dancing poodles as Rockford’s man stalks to the bathroom, where Jim has drizzled hand soap across the floor and retrieved a roll of nickels from his coat pocket, taunting, “You musclebound guys are always overcompensating.” The charge of latency draws a macho scream and a high kick that slides him back onto the soapy tile, where Jim lands a cheap insurance shot. According to Ed Robertson’s history of
The Rockford Files, this scene nearly broke the ASI meter when the pilot was tested, and may have made the show. It did for me. By cheating a little, it seemed a clever man could take down a bully. I was hooked.
Ward has much more to say about The Rockford Files here.

• Not to go overboard in promoting recent CrimeReads articles, but here are a few more I have enjoyed: Olivia Rutigliano’s excellent analysis of Inspector Bucket, Charles Dickens’ “devious, hypocritical ‘nice guy’ cop” in Bleak House (1853); Shane Mawe’s profile of Freeman Wills Crofts, once a prolific Irish mystery novelist (The Cask, The 12:30 from Croydon, etc.) and “a contemporary of Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, … [whose] reputation has failed to match that of these luminaries”; Chris McGinley’s profile of Virginia Kellogg, who “wrote some of the greatest crime movies in Hollywood's Golden Age,” but is today pretty much forgotten; and Paul French’s exploration of the various books and authors that have helped make Sydney “Australia’s undisputed capital of Noir.”

• Are you a big Ian Rankin admirer? If you, you might be interested to know that the Scottish creator of Inspector John Rebus is the subject of the latest entry in the McFarland Companions to Mystery Fiction series. At more than 400 pages long, Ian Rankin: A Companion to the Mystery Fiction is said to include “alphabetized entries on Rankin’s works, characters, and themes; a biography; a chronology; maps of Rebus’ Edinburgh; and an annotated bibliography.”

• Martin Edwards also recommends H.R.F. Keating: A Life of Crime, by Sheila Mitchell (Level Best). He describes this study of the British author behind Indian policeman Inspector Ganesh Ghote as “affectionate and entertaining” and says it “gives wonderful insights into the ups and downs of the crime writing life,” as well as a few curious bits of triva. “For instance,” remarks Edwards, “one thing I didn’t know was that Harry wrote the novelisation of Neil Simon’s Murder by Death.” The prolific Keating passed away in 2011.

• Thirteen years after The Sopranos ended its six-season run on HBO, creator/writer David Chase has finally revealed the meaning of its last episode’s ambiguous ending.

• And the next time you need a musical pick-me-up, try this.

Monday, February 18, 2019

“Always Closer Than Close to Trouble”

Since author Len Deighton is on our mind today, thanks to this being his 90th birthday, we thought it might be fun to post the theatrical trailer for the 1965 big-screen adaptation of his debut novel, The IPCRESS File (1962). Michael Caine stars in that film as Harry Palmer, “a British Army sergeant with a criminal past, now working for a Ministry of Defence organization,” to quote from Wikipedia.



READ MORE:The Sincerest Form of … What?” by J. Kingston Pierce (Killer Covers).

Deighton, Samson, and Fitting In

British espionage novelist Len Deighton (The IPCRESS File, Funeral in Berlin, SS-GB) turns 90 years old today. To help celebrate, Rob Mallows of The Deighton Dossier has collected a wide variety of remarks from the author’s fans addressing one particular question: What do Len Deighton’s books mean to you as a reader?

Among the comments is this one from Simon Hamid, described only as being somewhere in America, who makes clear that reading fiction can help people feel more comfortable in the world:
The first time I read Len Deighton’ s work I was a young student in graduate school, struggling to fit in. Being brought up across cultures and countries always made me a little unsure of myself, mainly because it seemed others were unsure of me. Or at least it seemed that way!

Reading about Bernard Samson’s life, his struggles and insecurities, and issues with acceptance, made me feel that I was not alone in feeling estranged. I loved the way the character made himself into a sort of working-class hero in his own mind. It allowed Bernie Samson to deal with the intrigues of the office, and also to feel a sense of purpose, as he could communicate across all social classes. He had a unique emotional understanding of people, if not of himself.

In the end, Len Deighton’s portrayal of Samson made me feel understood and more comfortable in my own skin. It finally seemed like there was a writer who could understand the isolation that comes from trying to fit in everywhere, and still remain selfishly unique. When I first became immersed in the initial Samson Trilogy … [
Berlin Game, Mexico Set, and London Match], I would often come across issues in real life and ask myself, “How would Bernie handle this?”

Thanks, Len! Your books have given me entertainment, but also consolation and contentment! Your writing made me realise, through fiction, that I was not alone in trying to live among different cultures, and that I could make my own space.
Click here to read more praise for Deighton’s work.

READ MORE:Happy Birthday, Len Deighton,” by Ayo Onatade (Shotsmag Confidential).

Sunday, February 10, 2019

And Harry Palmer Sends His Regards

Len Deighton, the British author of such acclaimed espionage novels as The IPCRESS File (1962), Funeral in Berlin (1964), and SS-GB (1978), will celebrate his 90th birthday on February 18.

In advance of that occasion, Rob Mallows of The Deighton Dossier has started posting his own thoughts, as well as those of other fans, on what Deighton’s impact has been on readers. He’s launched a special Twitter Moment page, “which captures the regular tweets that have been going up containing snippets from some of his best-known books and reader responses to them …” And, come the 19th, he’ll post a larger tribute on the main Deighton Dossier Web site.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

“One of the 20th Century’s Top Spy Thrillers”

In his blog, The Deighton Dossier, Rob Mallows has posted an interview with author Len Deighton. The principal part of their discussion is about The Ipcress File, Deighton’s influential first spy novel, which was published half a century ago this year.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Date with Deighton

If you read only a single interview this week, make it Rob Mallows’ one-on-one with the legendary Len Deighton in the Deighton Dossier blog. Deighton is, of course, the British author of The IPCRESS File, Funeral in Berlin, SS-GB, Berlin Game, and so many other espionage and thriller novels. Their exchange is rolling out in three sections. Part I can be found here, Part II is here, and Part III is now available here.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

That’s a Lot of Birthday Candles

British historian and spy novelist Len Deighton--the author of such familiar works as The IPCRESS File (1962), Funeral in Berlin (1964), and XPD (1981)--turns 80 years old today. To help celebrate, The Telegraph features an interview with the “famously publicity-shy” writer. For more background on Deighton’s life and literary endeavors, check out Rob Mallows’ The Deighton Dossier and the “Unofficial” Len Deighton Home Page.

Friday, June 27, 2008

The Book You Have to Read: “Funeral in Berlin,” by Len Deighton

(Editor’s note: This is the ninth installment in our ongoing Friday blog series highlighting great but forgotten books. Today’s selection comes from Tony Broadbent, author of The Smoke (2002), Spectres in the Smoke (2005), and the forthcoming Shadows in the Smoke.)

A question for you. How do you take your spies? Shaken or stirred? Hot-blooded or icy cool? In from the cold? With a twist? Up? Down? Old school? Public school? Oxbridge? Ivy League?

I yield to no man in my admiration of Ian Fleming’s creation, secret agent 007, James Bond. But all things considered, even in this year, the centenary of Fleming’s birth, I think I prefer my spies a lot less iconic and my spy stories a lot more ironic, if not downright cynical. I want a strong whiff of realism rather than outright “snobbery with violence.” All of which is to say that one book always on my needs-to-be-read-again pile is Len Deighton’s splendid Funeral in Berlin.

To quote the nameless narrator of this, the third entry in Deighton’s series of “Secret Files” (the others being The IPCRESS File [1962], Horse Under Water [1963], and Billion Dollar Brain [1966]): “The greatest tribute you can pay a secret agent is to take him for a moron; all he has to do then is make sure he doesn’t act like one.” That frees us from “Bondage” in a single sentence.

First published in 1964, Funeral in Berlin seemed to have been ripped directly from the headlines. The Berlin Wall, not yet three years old, was a constant flashpoint and framed the Cold War political divide more clearly than any other entity or event, and would continue to do so for another 25 years.

Deighton’s portrayal of the British Secret Service appears far more realistic than Fleming’s or even Graham Greene’s, for that matter. John le Carré’s fictional “The Circus” has a great sense of realism, too, but unlike Fleming, Greene, or le Carré, Deighton never worked for either MI5 or MI6, neither was he a public-school boy; like his nameless hero he’s a grammar-school boy--my kind of guy.

Deighton’s creation, the secret agent with no name--dubbed “Harry Palmer” only in the film versions of the books--is also my kind of spy; an anti-hero who fights against the inequities and ineptitudes of the establishment as forcibly as he does the devious machinations of the enemy. He’s also not above grappling with and commenting on the ethical and moral issues of his dark and deadly trade, as well as musing on the possible larger political ramifications at home and abroad. Deighton takes us through “the looking glass” in thought as well as deed.

Deighton’s world of spies is also wonderfully freighted with the then growing sense of cynicism and revulsion in Britain toward the seemingly never-ending stream of betrayals and defections of real-life “upper-class” spies, including Guy Burgess, Donald Maclean, and Kim Philby. In fact, Deighton’s stories had such an air of authenticity--with their extensive footnotes, memos, technical data, documents, and appendices--that the books were required reading at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia.

Funeral in Berlin is a complex story, true, but it is never too convoluted to follow or enjoy. It amply rewards close reading. Deighton’s writing is superb in regards to description and detail, his dialogue often more than a match for Raymond Chandler, and in context of veracity of time and place and class, it’s as good as Elmore Leonard at his best. All of which serves to make Funeral in Berlin one of the all-time greats from the Golden “Cold War” Age of the spy novel.

And what of the plot of Funeral in Berlin? British Intelligence sends our unnamed agent to Berlin to arrange the defection--for a price--of an important Soviet scientist. The hush-hush deal to spirit the scientist over the Wall is to be brokered by a onetime black-market colleague of our hero, a West German freelance wheeler-dealer with contacts at all levels of Berlin’s shadowy intelligence community. Despite our hero’s skepticism, the deal has the support of a senior civil servant at the Home Office in London, as well as, surprisingly, the head of Red Army Security in Soviet-controlled East Berlin. A funeral is duly arranged, with a casket and a body within; but this is just the first move in an increasingly deadly game of chess. (The allusion is Deighton’s own; he graces each chapter heading with an appropriately pithy and pointed chess epigram.)

The New York Times called Funeral in Berlin “a ferociously cool fable, even better than The Spy Who Came in from the Cold.” The London Sunday Times dubbed Deighton “the poet of the spy story.”

I first read this book in paperback some 30-plus years ago and still have the copy; Raymond Hawkey’s starkly brilliant, orange-and-white-striped cover, though now slightly faded, is still a dramatic frame for the black-and-white half-tone photo of Michael Caine as the bespectacled, Sten gun-toting Harry Palmer. One of that edition’s other blurbs--from Life magazine--has also stayed with me for years: “Next, big soft girls will read Len Deighton aloud in jazz workshops.” If ever any blurb was to be envied, it’s surely that one.

Similarly etched in my mind, is one of this novel’s several epigraphs that hint at how the realpolitik of the spy’s secret world inevitably casts its shadows into our own:
“If I am right the Germans will say I was a German and the French will say I was a Jew; if I am wrong the Germans will say I was a Jew and the French will say I was a German.”--Albert Einstein
Not a single word wasted--dialogue, footnote, appendix, epigraph, epigram--all is germane to the matter. I would urge you to read Funeral in Berlin at least once before you die.

Next week, Kirk Russell--author of the tense eco-thrillers Shell Games, Night Game, and Deadgame--will give his take here on another “unjustly forgotten book.” One of the most widely read within the mystery genre of anyone I know, Kirk is unfailingly perceptive and always pithily erudite in his assessment of plot, dialogue, and character. As with his prose--he’s as sharp as a knife. Not to be missed.

READ MORE:Funeral in Berlin,” by David Foster (Teleport City).