Not all spy fiction is the same. I separate spy fiction in to two camps. One is the more familiar “male fantasy” action-adventure story in which the hero is ridiculously uncomplicated, possesses almost supernatural strength and agility, and has access to the most state-of-the-art surveillance technology and weaponry. Ian Fleming’s James Bond and Robert Ludlum’s Jason Bourne are examples of this type. This camp, due to its popularity, has, over the years, almost become a parody of itself, with everything from TV’s “Alias” to “The Kingsman” movies, as well as children’s films like “Spy Kids” and “Despiccable Me”, poking fun at the genre.
The other camp is, perhaps, a more mature and realistic approach to spy fiction. Generally more cerebral and less action-oriented, this camp of spy fiction looks at the minutiae of espionage, as well as the ethics and the human costs involved. John Le Carre is probably the best known writer of this type of spy fiction. His heroes are not supermen but professorial old men who spend most of their time in an office. They very rarely carry guns.
Daniel Silva’s debut novel “The Unlikely Spy” falls very much into the latter camp of spy fiction.
Set during World War II, “The Unlikely Spy” attempts to answer a question that has baffled historians and scholars for years. Prior to the invasion of Normandy, which led to the turning tide of the war for the Allied Forces, British intelligence knew that German intelligence knew that something was up. The Brits were aware that the Germans knew about massive concrete structures being placed in the waters off the French coast, an operation necessary to create a false harbor that would alleviate the planned invasion. This operation was known as Mulberry. If the Germans knew about the concrete structures, it was possible that they knew about the invasion plans, and if they knew about the invasion plans, thousands of lives were at stake.
Thankfully, U.S. intelligence intercepted messages from Japan to Germany which concluded that the Germans had no idea about the invasion. The Germans believed that the concrete structures were going to be used for a large antiaircraft structure and not a false harbor.
Given the number of imbedded German spies in Britain and the U.S. and given the massive number of people working on the proposed invasion plans, it is a miracle that information did not manage to leak to the Germans. It was a logistical nightmare to keep the plans a secret.
Silva begs the questions: What if the Germans did know about the potential invasion? How would they have not known? And, if they did know, how and why did they ultimately decide to dismiss the intelligence, giving the Allies a major advantage and, most likely, costing Germany the war?
All of these questions are, of course, unanswered and unanswerable by history, owing to the classified top-secret nature of Operation Mulberry and its subsequent intelligence gathering.
Silva, of course, offers a fascinating fictional answer, one involving a history professor named Vicary---hand-picked by Winston Churchill personally to lead a spy-catching program within British intelligence; a gorgeous German spy who has been a “sleeper” cell in England for years; an American engineer; British mobsters; and two warring German spy programs vying for Hitler’s admiration.
The plot is convoluted, but it seems plausible, given the nature of duplicity and deception of espionage work. To say more would reveal too many spoilers, and I feel that I have said too much as it is.
Silva’s brilliance is creating characters that are believable and sympathetic, even when they are doing horrible things. His characters may be spies and soldiers and assassins, but he never devolves into a dehumanizing “us vs. them” mentality, to which the James Bond/Jason Bourne camp of spy fiction frequently resorts. Silva’s characters are human and thusly flawed and fragile, caught up in the chaos of their times and forced to do things for what they believe is the right cause.