Susan Gerstein's Blog - Posts Tagged "end-of-the-cold-war"
A Writer's Adjustment to a Changing World
During the past 25 years, novelists whose subject matter had been the bi-polar world of the Cold War had had the rug pulled out from under them, so to speak. The planet had shifted: the Soviet era with its closed society, the two superpowers staring at each other across a seemingly impassable chasm, the fear of mutual nuclear annihilation had all disappeared with disconcerting speed and the relatively clear worldview of the Good (us) fighting the Bad (them) had been replaced by the more nuanced, in many ways more difficult reality of corruption, eruptions of more localized wars and revolutions, and the rise of terror as a method of persuasion.
All this comes to mind having just read Martin Cruz Smith’s “Tatiana”. This is the latest of his Arkady Renko novels that began with “Gorky Park” in 1981 depicting the world weary, decent Moscow detective trying to work and hold on to dignity inside a Soviet system he sees and judges with all too clear an eye. The Renko books that followed over the years chart the path of a rapidly changing Russia and its relations to the West, beginning with the trauma – and hope – of the early post-Soviet years right up to the present: the criminal/oligarchy ascendant, the politics a sea of corruption and investigations of crimes (Renko’s work) thwarted at every step. Arkady Renko observes all, goes about his business as quietly and efficiently as possible, and we gain insight that only a novelist’s eye can give: in this instance, a series of “police procedurals” that achieve a much higher literary worth than one ordinarily expects of this genre.
That brings to mind John Le Carre, whose Cold War era spy novels, beginning with “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold” that erupted onto the literary scene as a spy novel unlike any before, had changed the very genre into a thoughtful, nuanced and heartfelt depiction of the cloak-and-dagger world of East-West rivalry. George Smiley, the spymaster who made a brief appearance in “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold” reappeared as the main character of some of the most heartrending series of novels that far transcend what we think of as “spy story” and became an iconic character whose decency and competence we came to rely on. “The Little Drummer Girl” and “A Perfect Spy” were Smiley-less page-turners, full of memorable characters, coming to satisfying conclusions. While Le Carre saw the conflict of opposing sides with a clear and fair eye and the shades were never black and white but many tones of grey, his heart seemed to be invested in the small victories the Good Guys achieved. There was sadness at the compromises that were necessary to accomplish those victories, but not bitterness.
And then the fundamental East-West conflict changed, and so did Le Carre’s writing. The books of the last twenty years bear no resemblance to those of the Cold War period. “The Constant Gardener”, “Absolute Friends”, “Our Kind of Traitor” and others cast around the world for subject matters that are surely not lacking: there are crimes committed by the great and the small all the time and a cloak-and-dagger world continues to exist to both commit and root out those crimes. Except that Le Carre’s heart is no longer in it: ideology and cool thinking had taken over. The subjects are picked following a political agenda. Le Carre used to have a nuanced view of the world, and as conveyed, through the lives and actions of his complicated characters, it used to be a rueful, wise one. With the shift in the planet's political alignment, Le Carre seemed to have become bitter. The sad and resigned but ultimately victorious Smiley and his ilk had now disappeared and had been replaced by uprooted characters functioning in a nihilistic world. Now it is blatant and angry, and because there is anger on the surface, it prevents the spy-story to come to a satisfying end. All is bitter ambiguity.
Martin Cruz Smith's Arkady Renko retained his skeptical, decent world-view throughout the years, and therefore he remains as satisfying a character now as he was thirty years ago. We see the changes that had taken place during the past decades through his eyes, as clear now as they had ever been. May we see with him and enjoy his small victories in the future.
All this comes to mind having just read Martin Cruz Smith’s “Tatiana”. This is the latest of his Arkady Renko novels that began with “Gorky Park” in 1981 depicting the world weary, decent Moscow detective trying to work and hold on to dignity inside a Soviet system he sees and judges with all too clear an eye. The Renko books that followed over the years chart the path of a rapidly changing Russia and its relations to the West, beginning with the trauma – and hope – of the early post-Soviet years right up to the present: the criminal/oligarchy ascendant, the politics a sea of corruption and investigations of crimes (Renko’s work) thwarted at every step. Arkady Renko observes all, goes about his business as quietly and efficiently as possible, and we gain insight that only a novelist’s eye can give: in this instance, a series of “police procedurals” that achieve a much higher literary worth than one ordinarily expects of this genre.
That brings to mind John Le Carre, whose Cold War era spy novels, beginning with “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold” that erupted onto the literary scene as a spy novel unlike any before, had changed the very genre into a thoughtful, nuanced and heartfelt depiction of the cloak-and-dagger world of East-West rivalry. George Smiley, the spymaster who made a brief appearance in “The Spy Who Came in from the Cold” reappeared as the main character of some of the most heartrending series of novels that far transcend what we think of as “spy story” and became an iconic character whose decency and competence we came to rely on. “The Little Drummer Girl” and “A Perfect Spy” were Smiley-less page-turners, full of memorable characters, coming to satisfying conclusions. While Le Carre saw the conflict of opposing sides with a clear and fair eye and the shades were never black and white but many tones of grey, his heart seemed to be invested in the small victories the Good Guys achieved. There was sadness at the compromises that were necessary to accomplish those victories, but not bitterness.
And then the fundamental East-West conflict changed, and so did Le Carre’s writing. The books of the last twenty years bear no resemblance to those of the Cold War period. “The Constant Gardener”, “Absolute Friends”, “Our Kind of Traitor” and others cast around the world for subject matters that are surely not lacking: there are crimes committed by the great and the small all the time and a cloak-and-dagger world continues to exist to both commit and root out those crimes. Except that Le Carre’s heart is no longer in it: ideology and cool thinking had taken over. The subjects are picked following a political agenda. Le Carre used to have a nuanced view of the world, and as conveyed, through the lives and actions of his complicated characters, it used to be a rueful, wise one. With the shift in the planet's political alignment, Le Carre seemed to have become bitter. The sad and resigned but ultimately victorious Smiley and his ilk had now disappeared and had been replaced by uprooted characters functioning in a nihilistic world. Now it is blatant and angry, and because there is anger on the surface, it prevents the spy-story to come to a satisfying end. All is bitter ambiguity.
Martin Cruz Smith's Arkady Renko retained his skeptical, decent world-view throughout the years, and therefore he remains as satisfying a character now as he was thirty years ago. We see the changes that had taken place during the past decades through his eyes, as clear now as they had ever been. May we see with him and enjoy his small victories in the future.
