Tag Archives: Britain

An Aggravating Amount of Paperwork

The promotional materials for any novel in Mick Herron’s Slough House series must include one reference to Herron being the John LeCarre of current spy novelists. Peruse the press for Slough House, Herron’s seventh installment in that popular series, and you’ll easily find it. No, not on that page. Go back a few pages . . . stop . . . no, one more . . . there it is.

The lazy and frivolous compliment is an insult to both. LeCarre was a savant who elevated the spy novel to art. Herron is a master entertainer with a sharp eye for absurdity and an acerbic tongue. They’re only the same in terms of their intentionality. Herron is intentionally funny. LeCarre is intentionally not.

LeCarre is the master of ceremonies in the spy fiction genre, and there is justice in that. Genius will always be welcome at any literary feast. But what about the talented and amusing entertainer? Shouldn’t that writer get a prominent seat and full plate as well?

Herron’s Slough House certainly qualifies as entertaining. Even better, in terms of storytelling, it’s one of the stronger installments in the series. It’s fast and fun to read. If you’re unfamiliar with the novels, Slough House is where Britain’s MI5 puts its Slow Horses – those incompetent, unlucky, or annoying spies that the service doesn’t want to deal with anymore. Slough House is where they work under the insufferable Jackson Lamb, a hilarious HR nightmare. The hope is these agents will become so bored they decide to quit, because firing people involves an aggravating amount of paperwork.

This installment opens with MI5 celebrating another “bold new enterprise.” That’s usually bad news for the Slow Horses. And, sure enough, Slough House has been erased from MI5’s database. The Slow Horses are still getting paid but otherwise it’s like they never existed. As with everything they do, the Slow Horses can’t decide whether they care about it or not.

This is probably unrelated, but a certain Russian dictator has sanctioned a hit on a double-agent Russia swapped with Britain. MI5’s “bold new enterprise” is a revenge killing. Putin now wants tat for that tit, and someone has informed him that the Slow Horses are skilled assassins. Now two of them are dead. Others are being tracked, as if they might be next. Slow Horses are experts at nothing, but “once the label’s been applied, the facts cease to matter.” So it’s the Slow Horses up against Russian-trained assassins in cynical London where no one can be trusted, especially the people who are supposedly on your side. I wonder who will win. The reader, of course.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Never Ending

Stories about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table are legion, but they usually end before or at Arthur’s death. After all, what’s left to say about Arthur and his knights after the legendary king dies? Nothing. The story is over.

Then again, Arthur is the once and future king, so perhaps stories about Britain after his death are as pertinent to the Arthurian myth as the ones during his life. Maybe stories don’t end just because certain characters, even main ones, die. Perhaps the stories continue, but with new characters and different adventures. Just maybe the stories go on forever. Lev Grossman thinks that might be the case, and he makes a compelling argument in The Bright Sword, his thoroughly enjoyable addition to the Arthurian myth.

The story opens with a knight, Collum, traveling to Camelot to join King Arthur and the Round Table. Collum is a poor orphan, and he’s wearing stolen armor. His chances of acceptance into this elite fighting group appear slim, but his timing is perfect. Many of Arthur’s bravest knights never returned from the quest for the Holy Grail. And then there’s Mordred, King Arthur’s bastard son. Just days ago, Arthur and Mordred killed each other in a battle that claimed most of the remaining Round Table.

Britain is now a dark and divided land. While Arthur brought unification, order, and peace, he was the “last light in the darkness.” Old Britain is asserting itself. The fairies never went away, but they’ve become bold again. Christianity is in retreat, and threats from foreign lands are everywhere. The remaining knights are ragtag so they can’t be choosey. Collum is in.

He isn’t without talents. At seventeen, Collum is incredibly strong and quick. He’s the greatest fighter his island, Mull, has ever seen, but Mull is tiny and remote. Regardless, he’ll be handy on a quest. And what do you know? These undistinguished knights suddenly have one. They must find the rightful heir to the throne. Arthur was tall, but this task is taller.

As they travel across Britain and Fairyland, the knights encounter all the major characters from the Arthurian legends, but Guinevere, Merlin, Lancelot, and Morgan le Fay aren’t the romanticized characters you might remember. They help make this addition to the canon all the more appealing.

Like all quests, this one is full of enchantment and danger. A successor is found, but the cost is great and much is uncertain. But that’s a quest for you. “Stories never really [end], they just [roll] one into the next. The past [is] never wholly lost, and the future [is] never quite found.” Quests, like stories, never really end. They’re never quite resolved.

That’s good news, my friends, because your grail is still out there, and you’ll never attain it. But like Collum, you can have wonderful adventures as you try. Quest on and quest well.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Ripped From the Headlines

London Rules is the fifth installment in Mick Herron’s Slough House series, and once again he asks what does Britain do when James Bond is on holiday? It turns to the Slow Horses, of course – that woeful group of misfits and losers who’ve been relegated to MI5’s dusty top shelf where they will hopefully either retire or die from boredom.

These novels have a ripped from the headlines feel, and London Rules is no different. It opens with an armed assault on a defenseless Derbyshire village. Twelve men, women, and children are murdered, and ISIS, much to MI5’s relief, immediately takes credit. It’s always good to have outsiders to blame, but these days, when a spy agency wants to blame outsiders for something hideous, you better take a close look at what the insiders are doing. Soon, another attack happens, and more are promised.

It’s not London Rules because London is ruling anything anymore. That was long ago. No, the title refers to rules of behavior that MI5 never strays from. “London Rules were written down nowhere, but everyone knew rule one.” It’s cover your ass, but because this is merry old England, they say arse. Oh, those silly Brits. I swear. Sometimes, it’s like they aren’t even talking English.

Anyway, it’s going to be hard for MI5 to cover its ass when the terrorists are operating from a playbook it wrote. As the head of MI5 observes, the terrorists are using “our own imperial past as kerosene. It’s the propaganda coup to end them all.” Fortunately, MI5 can pull the Slow Horses from the shelf, dust them off, and saddle them with all the blame when inevitably everything blows up. Oh, and by the way, someone is trying to kill Roddy Ho, the Slow Horses’ IT guru. But, of course, that makes for a long list of suspects, all of whom may be acting out of a deep sense of civic duty.

The Slough House series isn’t a success because Herron crafts meticulous plots laden with psychological drama. The plots are serviceable and there is suspense, but those are secondary to the maliciously fun characters and the delightfully acerbic humor. The standout character is Jackson Lamb, who’s always in “his hippo-at-rest position: apparently docile, but you wouldn’t want to get too close.” Roddy Ho has also emerged as one of the more entertaining characters in the series, which brings me to the problem with London Rules. Roddy Ho disappears one third of the way through, and Jackson Lamb is also missing in large chunks of the story. London Rules is still a fun read, but it doesn’t have as much of the misanthropic joy driving the earlier installments.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Get Me the Slow Horses

If you like spy novels and you’re not reading Mick Herron’s Slough House series, what’s wrong with you? Are you consumed with self-loathing? Are you mean to children? Not obnoxious children. I have no problem with that. I’m referring to nice children. Do you enjoy treating nice children badly?

This isn’t me asking. It’s my neighbor. She loves this series, and she has excellent taste. I love the series too, but my taste is suspect.

Spook Street is the fourth installment in the series. It brings back Jackson Lamb, the delightfully acerbic and misanthropic head of the slow horses, a group of British MI5 spies who’ve fairly or unfairly been relegated to Slough House because they’re misfits, losers, or nuisances. Slough House is “where they sent you when they wanted you to go away, but didn’t want to sack you in case you got litigious about it.” When there’s an emergency and national security is at risk, no one yells “Get me the slow horses.”

Still, national emergencies happen in Britain and somehow the slow horse get tangled up in them. Much to the reader’s relief, that’s what happens once again in Spook Street. The story opens with a bomb going off in a London mall on January 1st. Forty people are killed including the suicide bomber. It should be a straightforward investigation for the real spies at MI5, but it looks like a group secretly funded by a MI5 legend, who’s now retired and has dementia, might be involved. Slough House is pulled in because the MI5 legend is the grandfather of a slow horse.

The slow horses are now on Spook Street, and “When you lived on Spook Street you wrapped up tight: watched every word, guarded every secret.” These are things the slow horses aren’t good at, and MI5 desperately wants to keep all of this a secret. But here’s the “First law of Spook Street. Secrets don’t stay secret.”

Spook Street is another fast paced installment in the Slough House series, and it’s a pleasure to read. But beware, these stories have a body count, and Mick Herron has no problem sending slow horses out to pasture with a bullet.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Loot: Imperialism Gets a Slap on the Wrist

Tania James’ Loot opens in Srirangapatna, Mysore in 1794. The French are its colonial rulers. Abbas is 17 and a gifted woodcarver. He’s sent to Tipu Sultan’s Summer Palace to apprentice with Lucien Du Leze, a brilliant French engineer and watchmaker. They create a wooden automaton depicting a tiger devouring a British soldier. It’s all good fun, and the finished marvel delights Tipu. Du Leze returns to France.

French rule is weak, and Britain’s East India Company invades with its army. The battle is bloody; Tipu is killed; the city destroyed and renamed Seringapatnam; and its precious artifacts are looted. The automaton is awarded to Colonel Selwyn, who sends it to his country estate in England. His wife collects artifacts taken from all the territories the East India Company had conquered.

Abbas has lost everything. He leaves for France, which is a long journey around the African continent. He makes it and discovers Du Leze is dead. Fortunately, Jehanne, Du Leze’s beautiful, half-Indian, adopted daughter, is alive. Romance buds, but they’re poor. Jehanne learns where the automaton is located, so she and Abbas travel to England to steal it and become rich.

Wow, Gladiola, this synopsis makes Loot sound like an exciting global adventure; historical fiction at its best. Yes, it could’ve been, but here’s the problem. James knows all the necessary elements of the hero’s quest. She mechanically checks them off, as if this is an exercise in a graduate-level creative writing program, but she’s created a heartless automaton, which is a shame because the story does have potential.

Abbas travels around Africa in 1802, but the horrors of the slave trade are fleetingly acknowledged. India is being looted, but imperialism’s greed gets a slap on the wrist. Literally. Loot is a card game Jehanne plays with Selwyn’s widow. When Lady Selwyn, who’s surrounded by all the treasures her husband looted, pulls the winning card, Jehanne reflexively slaps her wrist.

Imperialism’s misappropriation of cultural artifacts has been a hot topic globally for decades. Loot was published is 2023, but James barely mentions the issue, which is all the more surprising because Abbas is Indian and Jehanne is half Indian. Loot dutifully marches to its banal happy ending, but the reader is left with a nagging sense that this is a superficial novel full of missed opportunities.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Tiger by the Tail

In Real Tigers, the third installment in his entertaining Slough House series, Mick Herron asks one important question. Can you tell the difference between a real tiger and a paper tiger? The answer better be yes, or you may end up dead, dead, dead. At least that’s what happens in this diverting page turner.

Slough House is where Britain’s MI5 dumps its slow horses, spies who are either cursed, incompetent, unlikeable, or addicted to something. Then it gives them nothing to do. The delightfully malevolent Jackson Lamb is the foul-smelling misanthrope in charge of Slough House. He is roused from his alcohol-aided slumbers when one of his team goes missing.

Catherine Standish leaves Slough House one intolerably hot evening and runs into an old MI5 colleague. She gets nervous because there’s no “friend falser than another spook.” Minutes later she is lifted from the street and thrown into a black van. Was that meeting on the street just a coincidence? Sure, why not?

Here’s another coincidence. Peter Judd, Britain’s home secretary, has hired a tiger team to infiltrate MI5 and test its internal defenses. Judd is a messy mop-haired scamp – a “public buffoon and private velociraptor.” If you’re thinking Boris Johnson, congratulations. You’ve connected the very obvious dots. He’s in a power struggle with MI5’s first desk and its second desk. They’re all rivals, and they hate each other. But he has a secret plan that will cage his rivals, and the tiger team is going to help.

Poor Judd. A few ex-soldiers on the tiger team have their own plans, and they don’t play ball with their corporate overlords. Slough House is brought in to help clean the mess or, in the alternative, be blamed for it. And they still need to find Catherine.

It’s best not to think too hard about the plot. It’s unnecessarily convoluted and doesn’t withstand much scrutiny. However, you don’t read Slough House novels for intense psychological drama and seamlessly constructed plots. You read them because they’re fun. The characters are deliciously petty and only begrudgingly helpful. As the story reaches its bloody conclusion, we learn who’s real and who’s paper.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Slow Horses: Immorality Play

Mick Herron’s Slow Horses is a feat. It’s an authentic spy thriller with a laugh track. Written in the third person, the voice is conversational, appealing, and mildly sarcastic. Here’s an example. “Most of us hold that some things only happen to other people. Many of us hold that one such thing is death.” But it takes more than an engaging tone to create a fast-paced, suspenseful story. Herron succeeds there too.

It’s the 2000s and Britain is a mess. Whoa, Gladiola, I assumed this book is fiction. Is Slow Horses nonfiction? I don’t know. Britain certainly is a mess, but I found the book in the fiction section of Book No Further – though, I agree, the story does have that “ripped from the headlines” feel. May I continue with my review? Of course, my apologies. I’m a hairy ass covered with boils.

A group of extreme British nationalists have kidnapped a young man. He might be Pakistani, but he’s not. He was born in Britain. He does, however, have an uncle who lives in Pakistan. That’s good enough for the kidnappers. They’re going to chop his head off in 48 hours. On the internet. MI5 is on the job. Will our friend keep his head? Odds are . . . no. Because the slow horses have inserted themselves.

Who are the slow horses? They’re MI5 agents who have been relegated to Sough House, because they’re incompetent, unlucky, alcoholic, and/or obnoxious like mustard gas. They’re really bored and desperate to prove they don’t belong in Slough House – though they do.

Jackson Lamb is in charge of Slough House. And, with Lamb, Herron has created one of the great characters in the genre. He’s a foul-smelling, misanthropic burnout from when the Cold War was hot. “When he was in the field, he had more to worry about than his expenses. Things like being caught, tortured and shot. He survived.” Don’t trifle with him.

Throughout the story, he spars with Diane Taverner (Lady Di). She’s formidable in her own right. “The Service has a long and honorable tradition of women dying behind enemy lines, but was less enthusiastic about placing them behind important desks.” Lady Di sits behind a very important desk. Don’t trifle with her either. She and Lamb are at each other’s throats, and it’s delightful to watch. But will their rivalry doom our soon to be headless friend?

Everyone says Herron is John le Carre’s successor, so there’s no need to mention that here. And Everyone is stupid. As great as le Carre was, he never could have written a spy thriller like this. His stories were morality plays, and humor was a cardinal sin. Herron doesn’t get riled up about human nature and its sorry state. In fact, the subject seems to make him laugh. Me too.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor