The Third Man
A review of The Third Man by Graham Greene
Although I am a fan of Graham Greene I have never got round to reading The Third Man, a novella upon which he based the film script for the famous film, starring Orson Welles and famous for its haunting zither music. I have never seen the film either and so I had the perfect opportunity to come to this completely fresh and without any preconceptions. Written before the screenplay, Greene claims that it was never intended for publication, but it came out in book form in 1950, after the film’s release.
It is a very atmospheric work, capturing the dog eat dog, hand-to-mouth existence of those trying to survive in postwar Vienna, divided into four quarters by the occupying powers. Paranoia and the fear of betrayal is never far away. Into this troubled city enters Rollo Martins, a writer of pulp Westerns, invited by his longstanding friend, Harry Limes. The novel is narrated by an English policeman, Colonel Calloway, who is serving in the city and has developed a particular interest in Limes.
Although superficially a thriller and Greene stokes up the tension and excitement well, it is essentially a tale of betrayal and the shattering of illusions, a parable of mistaken identities. Martins has hero-worshipped Limes since their time at school but as the story unfolds, the scales begin to fall from his eyes. Limes was a racketeer in a city full of racketeers, engaged in a particularly distasteful, immoral, and deadly scam, supplying adulterated penicillin.
Upon his arrival in Vienna, Martins discovers that Limes is dead, ostensibly hit by a jeep which took a corner too quickly. Martins quickly realizes that the various witnesses to the accident, all well known to Limes, had differing accounts of what happened. Did Limes die instantaneously, or did he have enough lucidity to make the arrangements which benefited both Martins and his girl, Anna Schmidt before he died? Who was the mysterious third man who helped carry the body into the flat?
The mystery deepens as some time afterwards Martins spots Limes, who clearly had not died in the accident. Instead of being overjoyed by the resurrection of his friend, Martins turns against him assists in his ultimate demise down in the sewer system of Vienna in a thrilling and gripping finale.
As for mistaken identities, Limes is clearly not who he was thought to be and Martins himself, in a foretaste of what was to come, is mistaken for a more established literary writer, Benjamin Dexter. Calloway is often, and confusingly, referred to as Callaghan by Martins, Dr Winkler as Winkle and who exactly is Anna Schmidt? Is she a Hungarian masquerading as an Austrian?
The final scene, according to the Preface, differs from the film version. Whether such a dark tale of deceit and shattered illusions deserves a more hopeful ending is a moot point. I think it would have worked either way.
