Reviewing books is a bit like a Rorschach Test- you tease out things that you want to see, and ignore others that don't seem terribly important to you. No two people ever approach a book in quite the same way- those familiar twins, Context and Subjectivity, shape every review you make.
Being fully aware of this, it is with little hesitation that I say the following sentences: The Golden Rendezvous is Alistair MacLean's best book, which is a staggering achievement in itself. It is also, narrowly beating out The Day of the Jackal, the finest thriller novel ever written.
The book distills the very best of MacLean- take a wry, intelligent protagonist, some suave Hans Gruber-type villains (the Die Hard guy, later famous as Snape), a beautiful/sensitive/intelligent heroine, and a truly hopeless situation. Throw lots of threads all over the place, then bring them all neatly together at the end. And, best of all, put them all in the sea, MacLean's natural habitat.
This is as truly a page turner as was ever written- every page brings forth something new, something unexpected, and you find yourself turning pages so smoothly that before you realize it, you're half way through. This is one of the hardest books to put down, it's *that* gripping.
The book contains enough doses of the trademark MacLean humour- there's none of the foreboding or the tragedy from Fear is the Key or the Dark Crusader, and none of the intensity of HMS Ulysses or Night Without End. It also lacks the slightly dated feel of The Guns of Navarone or Circus, the frivolousness of Golden Gate and Caravan to Vaccares, and the sometimes overbearing Man Against Nature feel of Ice Station Zebra or South by Java Head. All of the above are great books, mind you, but you can only read them every third year or so.
More than that, it's what the book has, that ultimately counts. It's got the frenetic non-stop action and the unexpected twist at the end of Where Eagles Dare, it's got the smooth, highly talented hero of Floodgate, it's got the Nothing Makes Sense Till The End feel of Where Eight Bells Toll. And it does it better than all of them.
This may not be a very intense book, or a very meaningful one. MacLean wrote several of those. However, if thrillers are the junk food of literature, sometimes, we want to indulge ourselves and go all the way. We want to order extra bacon on our pizza, we want mayo with our fries, we want caramel sauce on our ice cream. And this book gives you all of that, without compromising in any way.
If you had to take one thriller with you to a desert island- if you had to pick one book that you could open a random page from, read that page, and then close the book with a smile on your face as you wait to be rescued, then look no further. From that perspective, this is the finest thriller ever written.