Rob Kitchin's Blog, page 28

Review of The Honorable Schoolboy by John Le Carre (2002, Penguin)

In the wake of the uncovering of a highly placed mole in the British Secret Service, George Smiley is determined to rebuild the Service's shattered reputation and to go on the attack. Smiley’s small team of trusted confidants search back through the mole’s work, not looking for what was stolen or disrupted but what was overlooked or ignored. What they discover is that Smiley nemesis in Moscow Centre, Karla, has an operation running in the Far East and Hong Kong is its key locus. Former journalist and spy Jerry Westerby – the Honorable Schoolboy – is plucked out of retirement and sent to Hong Kong, notionally as a reporter. From there he follows a trail to Cambodia, Laos and Thailand on the trail of two pilots left in the area after the US has pulled out. Playing politics with Whitehall and American colleagues, Smiley senses a reversal of fortunes, though it relies on Jerry staying alive and delivering the plan on his solo run through South-East Asia.

The Honorable Schoolboy is the second book in the Karla trilogy, and the sixth out nine books by Le Carre featuring George Smiley. In this outing, Smiley is trying to assess and repair the damage caused by a mole at the higher echelons of the British Secret Service. The collateral damage is huge, with people and programmes being cast aside in an effort to re-float a holed ship. At the same time, Smiley is also looking for a way to strike back at Karla, the Russian mastermind behind the mole. He finds a potential route to revenge in Hong Kong and some false accounts, and dispatches Jerry Westerby, a rehabilitated victim of the purges, to investigate. Through a fairly complex plot, with a large set of characters, Le Carre charts Smiley’s scheming and Westerby’s trail through the Far East. The storytelling is very nicely judged for much of the tale, though at times it’s a little uneven, with some sections being a masterclass in painting scenes and character development, and others feeling thin and over-extended, and the middle third was a bit plodding. I was also never really convinced by Westerby’s motivation. Overall, though, an intricate, thoughtful spy-thriller.

Lazy Sunday Service

It's been a slow couple of weeks of reading. I've been busy with trying to finish a project off, and the book I've been working my way through has been a long one (680 pages), The Honorable Schoolboy by John Le Carre. I should get round to writing a review during the week.

My posts this week
Review of Incensed by Ed Lin
Cleaving in two

Cleaving in two

Julie placed two mugs of tea on the table.

‘You don’t seem yourself these days, Liam. What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know. I just feel like I’m cleaving in two.’

‘Cleaving? Cleaving how?’

Liam shrugged. ‘Like I’m observing my own life from outside myself. That I’m talking with another being.’

‘We all have an inner voice, Liam.’

‘But mine’s swapped to the second person. ‘Jesus, Liam, you need to get a grip,’ instead of ‘I need to get a grip’.’

‘We all talk to ourselves like that sometimes.’

‘But this isn’t sometimes; it’s always. It’s like I’m living with a stranger.’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Review of Incensed by Ed Lin (2016, Soho Crime)

After his previous exploits investigating the death of his former girlfriend, Jing-nan is a minor, local celebrity. He’s not let it go to his head though and he still runs a food stall in the Shilin night market. As the Mid-Autumn Festival approaches, his gangster uncle asks him to babysit his sixteen year old niece. Mei-ling wants to drop out of school to pursue her dream of becoming a popstar. She also has a biker boyfriend of Indonesian extract who’s active in a gang. Jing-nan brings her north to Taipei, but Mei-ling has a habit of finding trouble and it’s not long until she disappears. In a panic, Jing-nan rushes to find her before she comes to harm and his uncle’s goons take matters into their own hands.

Much like the first book, there’s not much of a plot or mystery to Incensed. Instead, the novel acts more like a fictional travelogue for readers unfamiliar with Taiwan (I have a feeling the endless explanation will distract Taiwanese readers). Using colourful characters and light humour, Lin spends most of the tale detailing aspects of Taiwanese culture and society, especially focusing on food (present on almost every page) and the role and place of criminal gangs. As per the first book, there is also an on-going obsession with the music of Joy Division. The supposed hook for the tale is the babysitting and disappearance of Mei-ling, the daughter of a gangster. Jing-nan was charged with looking after the bratty sixteen year old. Which he does for most of the story. Indeed, it is only in the last fifth of the tale that the mystery element takes place, and that lacks any real puzzle with a weak denouement. If you’re after a real mystery, or plot-driven story, then this may disappoint. If you're happy enough with colourful characters, a few amusing scenes, and a fictional travel guide for Taiwan, then its passable.

Lazy Sunday Service

I arrived back yesterday from a 10 day trip to Hong Kong and Taiwan, where I gave a number of talks. Both interesting places to visit and I enjoyed meeting and chatting to folks and trying the different foods. The density and pace of urban life is always an eye-opener compared to Ireland.

My posts last two weeks
October reviews
Review of The Borrowed by Chan Ho-Kei
Review of Only Thieves and Killers by Paul Howarth
Home but lost
Mixers should always complement

Home but lost

Kenny was rooted to a spot five paces from the metro entrance. The street was lit up with neon and colourful street signs. People streamed around him: chattering, laughing, gesturing, staring at phones.

Someone thrust a leaflet into his hand, bowed and moved on.

He stepped into the flow transfixed. It was the set from Bladerunner; the Bridge from Virtual Light. A bricolage of sounds and smells; street vendors clustered in front of tiny fashion shops and low and high-end restaurants; strings of complex characters punctuated by Western brand names.

It was strange, yet familiar. He was home but lost.




A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

October reviews

My read of the month for October was Paul Howarth's coming-of-age tale set in nineteenth century Australia.

Only Thieves and Killers by Paul Howarth *****
Hiroshima Boy by Naomi Hirahara ***
Tokyo Year Zero by David Peace ***.5
Brothers in Blood by Amer Anwar ****
The Secrets We Kept by Lara Prescott ****
The Crow Trap by Ann Cleeves ****
The Devil in the Marshalsea by Antonio Hodgson *****
The Elegant Lie by Sam Eastland **.5

Review of The Borrowed by Chan Ho-Kei (2014, Chinese; 2017, Head of Zeus)

Kwan Chun-dok lies dying in a hospital, trapped in a coma. He can communicate only through a EEG headset that allows him to ‘say’ yes, no and to hover between the two. His former mentee Inspector Lok is trying to solve a baffling crime in which the head of a successful family has been killed in his own home. There are only five suspects, all present in the house at the time and Lok assembles them in Kwan’s hospital room, preceding to ask them questions. He also refers questions to Kwan. Through a series of yes/no answers, Kwan solves the crime, his famous deductive mind seeing what the others cannot, despite never visiting the murder site. This is the first of six novellas that make up The Borrowed. Each story is set at a critical time in Hong Kong’s history, with the final tale set in 1967. All the stories feature Kwan, the stories reversing his legendary career. 
While each tale is an intricately plotted police procedural, where the mystery is a difficult puzzle that has to be solved by Kwan (and takes an interesting form – locked-room, prisoner-dilemma, jail break, siege, kidnapping, terrorist conspiracy) they are also astute social and political commentaries about Hong Kong as it passes from British colony to the sphere of Chinese rule. Each story is fascinating in its own right, but collectively they add up to more than the sum of their parts, and there are also multiple social and geographical links between the people and places portrayed. And Kwan is an intriguing character, full of humanity and compassion, but ruthless in pursuing justice. One of the tales felt a little weaker than the others in terms of its resolution, but overall this is an engaging, intriguing and thought-provoking novel with excellent plotting, strong character development, and a good sense of place and historical context. Highly recommended.

Mixers should always complement

The woman slid onto the stool and signalled to the barman.

‘Gin and tonic. No ice. Leave the tonic in the bottle.’

‘Don’t want to drown the gin,’ the man seated next to her said.

‘Mixers should always complement not swamp. I’m Paula.’

‘J …’

Paula removed her finger from his lips.

‘First rule of hotel bar conversations. No real names.’

‘I’m Harry.’

‘Second rule – no truths. I escort prisoners being extradited overseas.’

She added a dash of tonic to the gin and downed it one.

‘I edit a travel magazine. Would you like another?’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’




A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Review of Only Thieves and Killers by Paul Howarth (2018, Harper)

1885 in the Queensland interior. The McBride family are trying to survive a drought that is killing their cattle. When the rains finally break, teenage brothers Tommy and Billy head to a swimming hole. They return to find their father and mother shot dead and their sister Mary unconscious, a shot to her stomach. Nearby they find the revolver given to a former Aboriginal stockman. The two brothers place Mary on Tommy’s saddle and head north to the home of John Sullivan, the wealthiest landowner in the region and their father’s former employer. Sullivan persuades the brothers to embellish their story in order to convince the Queensland Native Police to pursue the suspected culprit and his tribe. The posse who heads into the Outback is headed by Edmund Noone, a clever, ruthless man influenced by Darwin’s ideas of evolution. It’s a coming of age trek for Billy and Tommy, one slipping under the influence of Sullivan, the other starting to see the family tragedy and Australia’s colonialism for what it is under the tutelage of Noone. And it’s a nightmare for any Aborigines the group finds.   

Only Thieves and Killers is a coming of age tale set in the settled outback of Australia in 1885. Life is tough for the McBride family and it’s gotten worse with a drought. For Tommy (14), and his older brother Billy (16), it takes a further savage turn when their parents are murdered and their sister left for dead. Seeking help for their sister from a local, wealthy landowner quickly turns into seeking retribution against the suspected Aboriginal killers. The boys head off into outback as part of a posse. While one embraces the bigotry and violence of the landowner and native police, the other starts to regret what they have started and resist rough justice. Howarth creates an engaging story rooted in a credible history of Australian colonialism and the relations between settler and Aborigines without it swamping the story or becoming preachy. While the overall arc of the tale is well telegraphed, the story retains its insistent pull, there is strong character development and interplay between the characters, and a good sense of place and time. The denouement and the wrapping up is particularly nicely done. At times, it is not a pleasant read and is often unsettling, but then the outback and its violent expression of politics and capitalism in the nineteenth century was often not a pleasant place. Overall, a compelling tale of coming of age and its after-effects.