Posted this on Amazon, and got an A+ from the author! Well, I was pretty complimentary, but my read was and remains sincere. I love writing which disappears, sometimes, as vehicle for a well-wrought tale. The vectors messing with our poise in 2009, er 2010, are all here. A very nice spy novel, if you ask me. It pulled me in as me, and not simply as some romantic projection.
***** (Amazon review below)
I read all over the map, and travel a bit as well. I love books, and have generally negative instincts toward new technologies which would interfere with their look and feel. But I just finished downsizing from a house to an apartment and nearly killed myself lugging all those books. So I was thrilled when I unwrapped my new Kindle in the hospital this Christmas!
I took a wing shot at the first book which showed up on the Amazon bestseller list. I pretty much expected a bestseller, which for me would be a lowered expectation. Don't get me wrong, I wanted a quick, exciting and pleasant read, and I wasn't disappointed.
The Kindle worked transparently, as I found myself reaching up to turn the page from its corner, forgetting the button. And the read itself was absolutely terrific. As it happens, I've recently traveled in Spain, and have lots of experience in China, which were the two most prominent cultural excursions (for an American) along the way in this spy adventure called Midnight in Madrid (about 8 PM anywhere else on the planet).
Spain was real life, as was the larger context of a world and an age in the grip of anxieties about faith. We fret the destructiveness of faith's uncivilized certainties, just as we struggle with the inevitably ironic remove among those of us who know how to read. The very earth is screaming out for earnest, as even David Foster Wallace was noting before he checked himself out for good.
We the literate - just like the spies among us - know that compromises must be made if one is to stay sane and decent. We give a postmodern 'yeah yeah' double-positive to anything claimed as abstract Truth; a stupid word if ever there was one. Especially when it gets reified. We are as likely to be terrified of the ungodly reach of the world's superpowers in our careless arrogant responses to the inevitable blowback from our own manipulations.
Spain becomes the perfect setting for a subtle clash of titans; the United States and China. The narrative has them working together, while underneath, there are massive cultural rifts. These get explored via the lense of both the characters' romantic inclinations, and - far more importantly - those of the reader. Hynd plays deftly with our practiced expectations.
In this case, the Chinese side gets its start from an impulse of forbidden Christian faith, in a man who had been abused for it. The urge is therefore necessarily distorted. The American side is barely contained by a super-structure of jaded non-chalance, casually throwing its weight around. We get re-presented in a fashion to make almost perfect use of the British foil implicit in any good spy novel. British aplomb in the face of death, and the limey coldly cheerful certainty of cultural superiority is ever present by its absence among Americans who still strut - however ironically - and thereby advertise self doubt.
We very nearly overlook the bomb under our own feet by having routinized even our aspirational quirks. As readers of novels, I mean, and as presumptive carriers of the once and always banner of freedom. We look that stupid dressed in multicultural mufti, while the Chinaman looks sharp. But this is not Bush strutting. This is those who've worked under cover, surviving the idiot winds of politics. They curse openly, drink whiskey and likely chomp cigars in ways that politicians can no longer get away with.
Hynd presents not one agency, but the reality of competing and overlapping jurisdictions both within and among national divides. Alex, the female protagonist, is presented with an impossible challenge to decide who can be trusted, based on what information will reasonably be withheld. She herself must withhold information from her own superiors, and from those she trusts with her life. Inevitably, she will wonder what she must withhold from herself, bringing the reader right to that very spot which such a master as John leCarre will nearly always do. Ableit with the frankly charming difference that the world does not end bleakly.
Along the way toward plumbing the depths of what compromises might be required to remain both human and among the living; and how deeply these might reach toward the very soul of a human who would be both decent and implicated in keeping the world on track, the actual core of Christian faith is exposed without a trace of mawkery or neat simplicity.
I understand that the imprint for this book is a Christian publishing house. I wouldn't have known except that I was clued-in by the knee-jerk assumption among folks like me that nothing good can come from those who might publish "Left Behind." But speaking as one who is too stupid to tell the difference between Saturday Night Live and televangelists - along the vector from ironic to earnest - if they're teaching me about God, they're doing so in a manner hardly offensive to an atheist smart enough neither to name Him nor be certain that truings will always be scientific.