A modern classic in which John le Carré expertly creates a total vision of a secret world, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy begins George Smiley's chess match of wills and wits with Karla, his Soviet counterpart.
It is now beyond a doubt that a mole, implanted decades ago by Moscow Centre, has burrowed his way into the highest echelons of British Intelligence. His treachery has already blown some of its most vital operations and its best networks. It is clear that the double agent is one of its own kind. But which one? George Smiley is assigned to identify him. And once identified, the traitor must be destroyed.
***2018 Summer of Spies***
Well, you couldn’t get much further away from the playboy-spy image than this, could you? George Smiley, the chubby everyman who’s always polishing his glasses, is the antithesis of James Bond. Rather than Miss Moneypenny, there’s a whole department of women known as “the mothers.” And instead of posh casinos, George spends a lot of time in a run-down hotel, reading swathes of paper files.
This is spy work done through the archives, searching for patterns in the paperwork, and through careful interviews with those who have been betrayed and/or let go. We have hints that Smiley had his daring days when he was younger, but he’s now a middle-aged man using his intellect instead of his muscles, carefully piecing together the story. Sometimes he learns as much from what’s not said as from what is said. Plus, he’s reinvigorating his career—sacked because he sided with the wrong person (Control), he is getting his place in the biz back by figuring out which high-level Intelligence man is their Russian mole.
Double agents, backstabbing, and betrayal. What more can you ask for in a novel?
In 1967, while doing some shoring up of the outer walls surrounding the Pallazo Vaj, gorgeous frescoes from the 1400's were found hidden inside the wall (one assumes it was a double wall sort of thing). This became the later inspiration for Monash University's restoration of the Pallazo's car park, back to the Renaissance garden it originally was. This book is a chronicle, of sorts, of that "restoration". Explanation of the quotes later.
First, let me say this book is gorgeous. Beautiful in its construction, photography - all of it. The writing was ... adequate. Mostly written like University professors submitting committee reports, but on a subject so rich and interesting that, with the exception of one section, it's still easy reading. (Not sure who Luke Morgan is, and I'm willing to bet he's a delightful, engaging person when he's at home, but his writing is nothing but pretentious gibberish. I've read articles about quantum physicals that were less opaque and obscure.)
So, this book would make a lovely gift - but maybe not for a gardener. The thing is, and this is my biggest disappointment, that while the book is beautiful, the garden is most decidedly not. I realise beauty is entirely subjective, and I realise too that this garden needed to serve as a public space.
But 80% of it is GRAVEL. Hand to god, 80%. According to the book, there were only 4 types of plants used in the entire space: box (so. much. box), jasmine, magnolia and lemon. Lovely plants, beautifully scented, but nothing else and EVERYTHING clipped to within an inch of its life. Even the magnolias are forced into a Christmas tree shape.
This is the "restored" garden:
I'm pretty sure you could still use that as a car park, just sayin'.
So, thus my rating. Great book, decent writing, horrific garden. Sorry Monash Uni, that's not a garden.
I'm going almost the full five stars on this because it's the best cat book I've read to date. I've not read a ton, to be honest, but McNamee manages to capture both the science and the essence of the relationship between a cat and its owner. He is undoubtedly a man coming at the subject with heartfelt appreciation and love for our feline overlords and his advice is rational, sound and passionate.
I learned a lot from this book. I never knew that the sticking out of the tongue was a sign of friendship and acceptance; I always thought Easter-cat just left her tongue sticking out sometimes. The front leg stretch isn't really a stretch, so much as it's a gesture of acceptance and friendship. McNamee has me a little stressed out about Easter-cat's insistence on only eating dry food. Small things like that, as well as much bigger issues like separation anxiety have given me much to think about.
McNamee also talks about a lot of very sticky issues, especially regarding breeding, the cat's need to hunt, and the feral population problem that plagues communities around the world. His overview of how Italy - specifically Rome - is tackling the issue is an inspiration, if not a complete solution. I think he does a phenomenal job bringing home the basic idea that cats (and any pet for that matter) are not merely personal possessions or accessories; they are living creatures with as much right to quality of life and dignity as we might and arrogant humans so.
This book is a weaving of science and personal anecdotes about the author's cat, Augusta. Those personal parts are brilliant, and sometimes nail-biting. Full disclosure: I flat-out skipped chapter 7 on sickness and death. I'm a sissy, and the first 6 chapters convinced me that McNamee was going to write chapter 7 with at least as much passion and heartfelt sincerity and there aren't enough tissues in the world to get me through that chapter.
I knocked off half a star because some figures at the start seemed to fantastical to be true, and though there is a notes section at the back, those figures weren't cited, leaving me and others feeling distrustful of the data. Otherwise, I thought this was a brilliantly written, fantastic resource for anybody who wants to be a better cat slave.
As war between Alden and Oridia intensifies, King Erik must defend his kingdom from treachery and enemies on all sides—but the greatest danger lurks closer to home…
When the war began, Lady Alix Black played a minor role, scouting at the edge of the king’s retinue in relative anonymity. Though she’s once again facing an attacking Oridian force determined to destroy all she holds dear, she is now bodyguard to the king and wife to the prince.
Still, she is unprepared for what the revival of the war will mean. Erik is willing to take drastic measures to defend his domain, even if it means sending Prince Liam into a deadly web of intrigue and traveling into the perilous wild lands of Harram himself.
Only the biggest threat to the kingdom might be one that neither Alix nor Erik could have imagined, or prepared for…
I know for a fact that I would have enjoyed this book much more if I had read the books in order. Unfortunately, I goofed—I read book 3 before this one and so I already had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen. I’m usually a stickler for reading series in order and this experience just reinforces that habit!
I enjoyed this series and I liked the fantasy world that Ms. Lindsey created. Her system of blood magic, in particular, was novel (at least to me) and I thought it was effectively used. I enjoyed having a strong female lead character too. I just wish there had been a little less agonizing over decisions. Lady Alix, her husband Liam, and King Erik all seem to overthink and overanalyze everything and it get tedious after a while. Especially when they are leaders in all other ways.
I suspect that this is Lindsey’s way of letting you know that these characters are “good people.” It seems that good people are unsure and question themselves continuously, while the villains never question their actions or motivations.
I’m glad that I circled back and read book 2 despite that. Now I know the rest of the story, only alluded to in Book 3.