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Secret File #5
An Expensive Place to Die
A 'clinic' on Paris's Avenue Foch designed to cater lavishly for multiple perversions, staffed by a group of sexually and intellectually high-powered girls and equipped with devices ranging from an Iron Maiden to psychedelic truth-drugs that's the set-up operated by the enigmatic Monsieur Daft.
Naturally, it has a hidden purpose: to compile dossiers of tape and film on influential political clients from East and West. Into this twilight world of decadence and hidden motives come the agents of four world powers. Are they after Datt's pornographic blackmail dossiers? Or is their purpose, altogether more deadly than a trip to the blue movies ...?
252 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1967
75 people are currently reading
534 people want to read
About the author
Len Deighton
221 books928 followersDeighton was born in Marylebone, London, in 1929. His father was a chauffeur and mechanic, and his mother was a part-time cook. After leaving school, Deighton worked as a railway clerk before performing his National Service, which he spent as a photographer for the Royal Air Force's Special Investigation Branch. After discharge from the RAF, he studied at St Martin's School of Art in London in 1949, and in 1952 won a scholarship to the Royal College of Art, graduating in 1955.
Deighton worked as an airline steward with BOAC. Before he began his writing career he worked as an illustrator in New York and, in 1960, as an art director in a London advertising agency. He is credited with creating the first British cover for Jack Kerouac's On the Road. He has since used his drawing skills to illustrate a number of his own military history books.
Following the success of his first novels, Deighton became The Observer's cookery writer and produced illustrated cookbooks. In September 1967 he wrote an article in the Sunday Times Magazine about Operation Snowdrop - an SAS attack on Benghazi during World War II. The following year David Stirling would be awarded substantial damages in libel from the article.
He also wrote travel guides and became travel editor of Playboy, before becoming a film producer. After producing a film adaption of his 1968 novel Only When I Larf, Deighton and photographer Brian Duffy bought the film rights to Joan Littlewood and Theatre Workshop's stage musical Oh, What a Lovely War! He had his name removed from the credits of the film, however, which was a move that he later described as "stupid and infantile." That was his last involvement with the cinema.
Deighton left England in 1969. He briefly resided in Blackrock, County Louth in Ireland. He has not returned to England apart from some personal visits and very few media appearances, his last one since 1985 being a 2006 interview which formed part of a "Len Deighton Night" on BBC Four. He and his wife Ysabele divide their time between homes in Portugal and Guernsey.
Deighton worked as an airline steward with BOAC. Before he began his writing career he worked as an illustrator in New York and, in 1960, as an art director in a London advertising agency. He is credited with creating the first British cover for Jack Kerouac's On the Road. He has since used his drawing skills to illustrate a number of his own military history books.
Following the success of his first novels, Deighton became The Observer's cookery writer and produced illustrated cookbooks. In September 1967 he wrote an article in the Sunday Times Magazine about Operation Snowdrop - an SAS attack on Benghazi during World War II. The following year David Stirling would be awarded substantial damages in libel from the article.
He also wrote travel guides and became travel editor of Playboy, before becoming a film producer. After producing a film adaption of his 1968 novel Only When I Larf, Deighton and photographer Brian Duffy bought the film rights to Joan Littlewood and Theatre Workshop's stage musical Oh, What a Lovely War! He had his name removed from the credits of the film, however, which was a move that he later described as "stupid and infantile." That was his last involvement with the cinema.
Deighton left England in 1969. He briefly resided in Blackrock, County Louth in Ireland. He has not returned to England apart from some personal visits and very few media appearances, his last one since 1985 being a 2006 interview which formed part of a "Len Deighton Night" on BBC Four. He and his wife Ysabele divide their time between homes in Portugal and Guernsey.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 61 reviews
September 24, 2024
For a bit of a diversion tonight I scanned quite a few reviews here of Deighton books I once salivated over, chewed roughly and then swallowed whole with satisfaction and the warm praise of one who finds repletion with a good book, because he knows it is based on reality.
Unlike so many who have difficulty with Len Deighton's soi-disant wooliness.
Guess what?
He's anything but woolly.
I've known people who have sworn systematically-high levels of their country's official secrets act and they've said that different folks in their ken - within their small offices - know vastly different things about what exactly it is they're doing. Some know it all, but most know nada.
In a place like that you don't know which side is up half the time.
Just like the 'Harry Palmers' who people the foggy void of Deighton's hazy spy novels. If you don't need to know you won't know.
This, then, is the well-kept secret that makes these early Cold War novels an in-fetish for many who know the ropes - and a late night dessert, before retiring, for career diplomats who can never dream of unloading their radioactive secrets on their wives.
The Devil is in the details. Or so those in the know say.
Kinda makes you respect Deighton a bit more, doesn't it?
Anyway, in my own foggy corner among lifelong Deighton aficionados, a corner I relish in its blessed myopia, this bombshell of a sleeper was plainly an old-fashioned morality tale.
Though, as I say, who exactly is doing what to whom in the book is up in the air.
In this particularly lavish bordello, the agents of four different countries come together like Jean Genet's perverse giants in his wondrous play The Balcony (btw, THERE's a book that blew me away!).
So Genet was right.
It's all the blind leading the blind.
It's all suspiciously like the blurred ethical lines of our postmodern culture. Soft porn is now a hot literary commodity. So how come none of my late-sixties' English Lit profs told us about that key genre?
Because they were too politely stuck in their classics to lead us kids to such dirt.
Is all that matters to us now simply other folks' private business?
If so, I think we may be in for a rude awakening one of these days...
Is that the Moral within Deighton's web of foggy international secrecy?
Well, folks, I for one can forego yet another rude awakening, on this day full of more of the usual mundane bad news.
For tonight, I’m reading Deighton as he REALLY is - as Pure ESCAPISM!
Unlike so many who have difficulty with Len Deighton's soi-disant wooliness.
Guess what?
He's anything but woolly.
I've known people who have sworn systematically-high levels of their country's official secrets act and they've said that different folks in their ken - within their small offices - know vastly different things about what exactly it is they're doing. Some know it all, but most know nada.
In a place like that you don't know which side is up half the time.
Just like the 'Harry Palmers' who people the foggy void of Deighton's hazy spy novels. If you don't need to know you won't know.
This, then, is the well-kept secret that makes these early Cold War novels an in-fetish for many who know the ropes - and a late night dessert, before retiring, for career diplomats who can never dream of unloading their radioactive secrets on their wives.
The Devil is in the details. Or so those in the know say.
Kinda makes you respect Deighton a bit more, doesn't it?
Anyway, in my own foggy corner among lifelong Deighton aficionados, a corner I relish in its blessed myopia, this bombshell of a sleeper was plainly an old-fashioned morality tale.
Though, as I say, who exactly is doing what to whom in the book is up in the air.
In this particularly lavish bordello, the agents of four different countries come together like Jean Genet's perverse giants in his wondrous play The Balcony (btw, THERE's a book that blew me away!).
So Genet was right.
It's all the blind leading the blind.
It's all suspiciously like the blurred ethical lines of our postmodern culture. Soft porn is now a hot literary commodity. So how come none of my late-sixties' English Lit profs told us about that key genre?
Because they were too politely stuck in their classics to lead us kids to such dirt.
Is all that matters to us now simply other folks' private business?
If so, I think we may be in for a rude awakening one of these days...
Is that the Moral within Deighton's web of foggy international secrecy?
Well, folks, I for one can forego yet another rude awakening, on this day full of more of the usual mundane bad news.
For tonight, I’m reading Deighton as he REALLY is - as Pure ESCAPISM!
April 17, 2022
No Longer Harry Palmer
Review of the Penguin Modern Classics paperback edition (September, 2021) of the original Jonathan Cape hardcover (1967)
Cover image from the 1995 Panther edition with the Michael Caine cover. Image sourced from An Expensive Place To Die
After the 'Harry Palmer' quartet, this book was somewhat of a let down. It suffers from a mostly static Paris location as opposed to the globe-trotting travels of the earlier books. The missing banter between 'Palmer' and his spy chief Dawlish with its shades of upper vs. lower class nuances is the biggest loss. The sometimes cynical dialogue of 'Armstrong' (the character doesn't receive this alias until Spy Story) with the villain Datt or allies Loiseau and Marie is not enough to make up for that.
The plot is also overly elaborate for a payoff that could have been handled much more simply. The Brits and U.S. are seeking to alert Red China to the realities of nuclear fallout (to deter first-strike warmongers) by passing on authenticated information to that effect. They maneuver this through a Paris 'clinic' which is actually a front for blackmail operations and is run by the head villain who is apparently a Chinese agent. To confuse things further the villain is the father of the woman who is the ex-wife of the French police inspector and now lover of one of the baddie's agents. All this for no great reason except complication. The Brit spy is embedded in Paris to help facilitate the handover of data. I had really lost interest by the time the noirish conclusion came around.
An Expensive Place to Die is the 5th of my re-reads of the early Len Deightons (I first read almost all of them in the 60's/70's/80's) after having learned of the Penguin Modern Classics republication of all of his novels which were published during 2021 as outlined in an online article Why Len Deighton's spy stories are set to thrill a new generation (Guardian/Observer May 2, 2021).
Review of the Penguin Modern Classics paperback edition (September, 2021) of the original Jonathan Cape hardcover (1967)
Dying in Paris is a terribly expensive business for a foreigner. - Oscar Wilde (One of the epigrams used for An Expensive Place to Die)[2.5] The protagonist in An Expensive Place to Die is yet another nameless spy like the 'Harry Palmer' of the previous quartet (named in retrospect from the Michael Caine films, but not in the novels). Author Deighton however considers this the first of four 'Patrick Armstrong' novels, followed by Spy Story (orig. 1974), Yesterday's Spy (orig. 1975) and Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Spy (orig. 1976). That didn't prevent some of the publishers from attempting to associate the book with the popularity of Michael Caine, as seen in the cover below. An Expensive Place to Die was never adapted for film though.
Cover image from the 1995 Panther edition with the Michael Caine cover. Image sourced from An Expensive Place To Die
After the 'Harry Palmer' quartet, this book was somewhat of a let down. It suffers from a mostly static Paris location as opposed to the globe-trotting travels of the earlier books. The missing banter between 'Palmer' and his spy chief Dawlish with its shades of upper vs. lower class nuances is the biggest loss. The sometimes cynical dialogue of 'Armstrong' (the character doesn't receive this alias until Spy Story) with the villain Datt or allies Loiseau and Marie is not enough to make up for that.
The plot is also overly elaborate for a payoff that could have been handled much more simply. The Brits and U.S. are seeking to alert Red China to the realities of nuclear fallout (to deter first-strike warmongers) by passing on authenticated information to that effect. They maneuver this through a Paris 'clinic' which is actually a front for blackmail operations and is run by the head villain who is apparently a Chinese agent. To confuse things further the villain is the father of the woman who is the ex-wife of the French police inspector and now lover of one of the baddie's agents. All this for no great reason except complication. The Brit spy is embedded in Paris to help facilitate the handover of data. I had really lost interest by the time the noirish conclusion came around.
An Expensive Place to Die is the 5th of my re-reads of the early Len Deightons (I first read almost all of them in the 60's/70's/80's) after having learned of the Penguin Modern Classics republication of all of his novels which were published during 2021 as outlined in an online article Why Len Deighton's spy stories are set to thrill a new generation (Guardian/Observer May 2, 2021).
March 5, 2017
Originally published on my blog here in January 2004.
The fifth Len Deighton novel narrated by Harry Palmer is in some ways more like The Ipcress File than Billion Dollar Brain (its predecessor) is. The cynical dark humour returns, and this gives the novel a similar atmosphere. It is, though, a more sordid novel, its subject being a high class Parisian brothel which has a sideline in blackmail, but it also shares the impression that the narrator has very little idea of what is actually going on - something which enables Deighton to spring surprises on the reader.
There is actually very little more to the plot than the existence of the brothel; all that really concerns the reader is to work out which of the characters in the novel is involved in investigating, protecting or running it. This is not very satisfactory from the point of view of the action in the story, something important in the thriller genre; it remains too unmotivated.
Harry Palmer continues to be anonymous, identified only as "the Englishman" by the other characters. In a new departure, his is not the only narrative voice. This is presumably so that the scenes can be rather more varied, with descriptions of events outside the Englishman's viewpoint. However, the scenes narrated from the point of view of other characters do not work so well; Deighton seems to have problems imagining how they will respond to the events they witness.
The novel, whose title comes from an Oscar Wilde quip about Paris, is something of a mixed bag. As a thriller, it isn't really exciting enough, but makes up for this in atmosphere. The plot is too diffuse, but it can be interesting guessing exactly who is on which side. While its predecessor Billion-Dollar Brain is really only for those who want to read everything Deighton wrote, An Expensive Place to Die would probably interest any fan of spy thrillers who picked it up.
The fifth Len Deighton novel narrated by Harry Palmer is in some ways more like The Ipcress File than Billion Dollar Brain (its predecessor) is. The cynical dark humour returns, and this gives the novel a similar atmosphere. It is, though, a more sordid novel, its subject being a high class Parisian brothel which has a sideline in blackmail, but it also shares the impression that the narrator has very little idea of what is actually going on - something which enables Deighton to spring surprises on the reader.
There is actually very little more to the plot than the existence of the brothel; all that really concerns the reader is to work out which of the characters in the novel is involved in investigating, protecting or running it. This is not very satisfactory from the point of view of the action in the story, something important in the thriller genre; it remains too unmotivated.
Harry Palmer continues to be anonymous, identified only as "the Englishman" by the other characters. In a new departure, his is not the only narrative voice. This is presumably so that the scenes can be rather more varied, with descriptions of events outside the Englishman's viewpoint. However, the scenes narrated from the point of view of other characters do not work so well; Deighton seems to have problems imagining how they will respond to the events they witness.
The novel, whose title comes from an Oscar Wilde quip about Paris, is something of a mixed bag. As a thriller, it isn't really exciting enough, but makes up for this in atmosphere. The plot is too diffuse, but it can be interesting guessing exactly who is on which side. While its predecessor Billion-Dollar Brain is really only for those who want to read everything Deighton wrote, An Expensive Place to Die would probably interest any fan of spy thrillers who picked it up.
Read
February 22, 2012I'm a bit shocked to read reviews that call this book cryptic and slow going! I picked it up last week, have got ten pages left, and can't wait to finish up tonight. Yes, there are twists and turns; yes, it's descriptive. But those are precisely the qualities that have me going back to deighton's novels again and again. This one is actually considerably more straightforward than, say, "The Ipcress File," which, despite being his most famous book, is my least favorite thus far (I've read the four Harry Palmers, plus this one; haven't delved into the Samson novels yet). I'm finding this a pretty lean and thrilling affair, frankly, as well as a keenly observed study of a certain slice of Paris in the Sixties. Less action-packed than the Palmer books, but still a great read.
August 25, 2018
The expensive place is Paris, France, where this intriguing spy novel by Len Deighton is set. This is the fifth of the so-called "Harry Palmer" novels, in which the hero/narrator is actually unnamed. (It was only when they turned several of them into movies that they discovered they couldn't have an unnamed hero, so they invented the name Harry Palmer.)
Our hero is in Paris. He receives an assignment to pass some information about the effects of radiation from a nuclear bomb to the Communist Chinese, who have a link to a mysterious Monsieur Datt. Datt passes himself off as a psychiatrist who holds orgies at his house at which his celebrity guests tell him more than they otherwise would. London then asks him to escort Datt and the Chinese agent to a ship docked near Ostend, but things come apart, as they will.
That is one of the strengths of a Deighton spy novel. Strange things are requested by the spymasters, and things rarely turn out as planned. Our hero is involved trying to dance his way through the circumstances that arise without offending London or drawing revenge upon himself from the other side. Great stuff!
Our hero is in Paris. He receives an assignment to pass some information about the effects of radiation from a nuclear bomb to the Communist Chinese, who have a link to a mysterious Monsieur Datt. Datt passes himself off as a psychiatrist who holds orgies at his house at which his celebrity guests tell him more than they otherwise would. London then asks him to escort Datt and the Chinese agent to a ship docked near Ostend, but things come apart, as they will.
That is one of the strengths of a Deighton spy novel. Strange things are requested by the spymasters, and things rarely turn out as planned. Our hero is involved trying to dance his way through the circumstances that arise without offending London or drawing revenge upon himself from the other side. Great stuff!
May 25, 2022
Not my favorite of the 5 Deighton novels I've read so far. I didn't find the 'villain' particularly interesting, and the supporting cast of characters are not as exciting as previous books. However, 1960's Paris does provide a suitably atmospheric setting.
April 8, 2023
Sucked. Had a few surprises that were too far and few between. Dumb characters and felt like a chore to read at moments but wanted to say I still finished it. I can say reading is more fun when you actually like what you’re reading. Funny how that works!
December 13, 2024
Misogyny
August 5, 2020
Better to read this for the telling of the tale than for a sense of satisfaction at the end. For this short novel of Deighton's is quite an enjoyable action piece. And his anonymous hero is back, with fewer tart quips but observations that are just as trenchant as those in the earlier works.
In fact, An Expensive Place to Die reads much more like a detective story than a spy thriller. And I suppose that is part of the reason it frequently reminds the reader of Raymond Chandler in places. I'm especially thinking of the trip to Datt's house hidden away in a countryside village. Like Chandler in The Big Sleep, Deighton indulges in images of corruption and society tainted with contact from the immoral and degenerate Far East. It especially applies to immoral sexuality and illicit drugs coming from Oriental masterminds or their sympathizers.
That leaves the ending, at once bitter and so hollow that the shock on the reader is lost. And that is what you are left with. A brief explosion of violence that puts a seal on secrets best kept tucked away. When things are over, they're simply over and finished. Not much in this story weighs on the mind afterwards. But, again, it is a thrill reading through the unfolding of it all.
In fact, An Expensive Place to Die reads much more like a detective story than a spy thriller. And I suppose that is part of the reason it frequently reminds the reader of Raymond Chandler in places. I'm especially thinking of the trip to Datt's house hidden away in a countryside village. Like Chandler in The Big Sleep, Deighton indulges in images of corruption and society tainted with contact from the immoral and degenerate Far East. It especially applies to immoral sexuality and illicit drugs coming from Oriental masterminds or their sympathizers.
That leaves the ending, at once bitter and so hollow that the shock on the reader is lost. And that is what you are left with. A brief explosion of violence that puts a seal on secrets best kept tucked away. When things are over, they're simply over and finished. Not much in this story weighs on the mind afterwards. But, again, it is a thrill reading through the unfolding of it all.
February 6, 2017
First published in 1967, but only slightly dated now, the atmospheric descriptions of Paris provide a really well-written back drop to this spy thriller. A complex plot that twists and turns many times meant that it was impossible to second-guess what was coming, and I just had to follow the flow. Probably a little too convoluted for my liking.
November 22, 2024
’
‘Can’t you stop them?’ she said.
‘No,’ I told her, ‘it’s not that sort of film.’
Her face contorted as though cigar smoke was getting hi her eyes. It went squashy and she began to sob. She didn’t cry. She didn’t do that mascara-respecting display of grief that winkles tear-drops out of the eyes with the corner of a tiny lace handkerchief while watching the whole thing in a well-placed mirror. She sobbed and her face collapsed. The mouth sagged, and the flesh puckered and wrinkled like blow-torched paintwork. Ugly sight, and ugly sound.
‘He’ll die,’ she said in a strange little voice.
I don’t know what happened next. I don’t know whether Maria began to move before the sound of the shot or after. Just as I don’t know whether Jean-Paul had really lunged at Robert, as Robert later told us. But I was right behind Maria as she opened the door. A .45 is a big pistol. The first shot had hit the dresser, ripping a hole in the carpentry and smashing half a dozen plates. They were still falling as the second shot fired. I heard Datt shouting about his plates and saw Jean-Paul spinning drunkenly like an exhausted whipping top. He fell against the dresser, supporting himself on his hand, and stared at me pop-eyed with hate and grimacing with pain, his cheeks bulging as though he was looking for a place to vomit. He grabbed at his white shirt and tugged it out of his trousers. He wrenched it so hard that the buttons popped and pinged away across the room. He had a great bundle of shirt in his hand now and he stuffed it into his mouth like a conjurer doing a trick called ‘how to swallow my white shirt’. Or how to swallow my pink-dotted shirt. How to swallow my pink, shirt, my red, and finally dark-red shirt. But he never did the trick. The cloth fell away from his mouth and his blood poured over his chin, painting his teeth pink and dribbling down his neck and ruining his shirt. He knelt upon the ground as if to pray but his face sank to the floor and he died without a word, his ear flat against the ground, as if listening for hoof-beats pursuing him to another world.
He was dead. It’s difficult to wound a man with a -45. You either miss them or you blow them in half....
An Expensive Place To Die (1977) Len Deighton
‘Can’t you stop them?’ she said.
‘No,’ I told her, ‘it’s not that sort of film.’
Her face contorted as though cigar smoke was getting hi her eyes. It went squashy and she began to sob. She didn’t cry. She didn’t do that mascara-respecting display of grief that winkles tear-drops out of the eyes with the corner of a tiny lace handkerchief while watching the whole thing in a well-placed mirror. She sobbed and her face collapsed. The mouth sagged, and the flesh puckered and wrinkled like blow-torched paintwork. Ugly sight, and ugly sound.
‘He’ll die,’ she said in a strange little voice.
I don’t know what happened next. I don’t know whether Maria began to move before the sound of the shot or after. Just as I don’t know whether Jean-Paul had really lunged at Robert, as Robert later told us. But I was right behind Maria as she opened the door. A .45 is a big pistol. The first shot had hit the dresser, ripping a hole in the carpentry and smashing half a dozen plates. They were still falling as the second shot fired. I heard Datt shouting about his plates and saw Jean-Paul spinning drunkenly like an exhausted whipping top. He fell against the dresser, supporting himself on his hand, and stared at me pop-eyed with hate and grimacing with pain, his cheeks bulging as though he was looking for a place to vomit. He grabbed at his white shirt and tugged it out of his trousers. He wrenched it so hard that the buttons popped and pinged away across the room. He had a great bundle of shirt in his hand now and he stuffed it into his mouth like a conjurer doing a trick called ‘how to swallow my white shirt’. Or how to swallow my pink-dotted shirt. How to swallow my pink, shirt, my red, and finally dark-red shirt. But he never did the trick. The cloth fell away from his mouth and his blood poured over his chin, painting his teeth pink and dribbling down his neck and ruining his shirt. He knelt upon the ground as if to pray but his face sank to the floor and he died without a word, his ear flat against the ground, as if listening for hoof-beats pursuing him to another world.
He was dead. It’s difficult to wound a man with a -45. You either miss them or you blow them in half....
An Expensive Place To Die (1977) Len Deighton
October 30, 2024
Another mysterious, unnamed spy is let loose upon the world, this time posing as a travel agent in Paris during the Sixties. He comes across a French blackmailer who's operations could be far more sinister, and he seeks to unravel the plot while cautious around those in power who could squash him like a bug without a second thought.
"An Expensive Place to Die" is Len Deighton's first novel in the Patrick Armstrong series (though the main character is never identified as such), and it's pretty great if a little confusing at times. I think the machinations of the dastardly Monsieur Datt, aided in no small part by the protections afforded him by the elite in French society, are all too realistic in many ways, but there's a certain convoluted nature to how everything evolves to include Red China, nuclear secrets, and so on. I'm not saying it's bad, really. I just don't know that it completely works at least on this initial read.
But as always with Deighton's prose, the star of the show is the narrative voice. Most of the novel is from Armstrong's POV, and much like in "Spy Story" (and in the Harry Palmer series), Deighton excels at capturing the weariness of someone who is put on the job almost in spite of himself, and who proves to be up for the challenge even though he harbors doubts and reservations about his role. Much like his peer John le Carre, Deighton is a master at capturing how very ordinary his heroes are, and how that is the source of their relatability to the reader.
"An Expensive Place to Die" takes us to a Paris that is just as real as the place depicted as the City of Lights, though it comes off more like the City of Lights Off. It's a fun, quick read that reminds me of why I started reading Len Deighton's work again. He's just damn good.
"An Expensive Place to Die" is Len Deighton's first novel in the Patrick Armstrong series (though the main character is never identified as such), and it's pretty great if a little confusing at times. I think the machinations of the dastardly Monsieur Datt, aided in no small part by the protections afforded him by the elite in French society, are all too realistic in many ways, but there's a certain convoluted nature to how everything evolves to include Red China, nuclear secrets, and so on. I'm not saying it's bad, really. I just don't know that it completely works at least on this initial read.
But as always with Deighton's prose, the star of the show is the narrative voice. Most of the novel is from Armstrong's POV, and much like in "Spy Story" (and in the Harry Palmer series), Deighton excels at capturing the weariness of someone who is put on the job almost in spite of himself, and who proves to be up for the challenge even though he harbors doubts and reservations about his role. Much like his peer John le Carre, Deighton is a master at capturing how very ordinary his heroes are, and how that is the source of their relatability to the reader.
"An Expensive Place to Die" takes us to a Paris that is just as real as the place depicted as the City of Lights, though it comes off more like the City of Lights Off. It's a fun, quick read that reminds me of why I started reading Len Deighton's work again. He's just damn good.
Read
January 24, 2021Re-read for the first time since the mid-90s. Many standard Deighton touches, but, perhaps, not quite at his top level yet.
July 18, 2023
Weird Cold War spy thriller. Well, sort of thriller. It's not particularly thrilling. Usually a fan of Deighton's work but not this one.
February 25, 2024
More like A Tough Book To Finish! Another masterclass in cheekiness from Deighton - this cheeky unnamed spy is as smug and entertaining as ever! In this chapter of his life we learn he’s “plump” and has “moth-eaten” hair!
It’s also another massive chore - Deighton is a gifted writer and every sentence feels like it’s been presented in the most interesting and insightful way possible, but he always seems to forget that it’s hard to be thrilled by a thriller when you have no idea what’s going on. Gets more obscure with every page - when I finished it I was sitting there with the same expression on my face as Homer Simpson when he’s disappearing backwards into the hedge.
It’s also another massive chore - Deighton is a gifted writer and every sentence feels like it’s been presented in the most interesting and insightful way possible, but he always seems to forget that it’s hard to be thrilled by a thriller when you have no idea what’s going on. Gets more obscure with every page - when I finished it I was sitting there with the same expression on my face as Homer Simpson when he’s disappearing backwards into the hedge.
August 21, 2012
I couldn't really get on with this book. The premise is a little bit too stretching of the imagination, and the constant interruption of any kind of flow with explanatory text at the bottom of the page (or in some cases, pages) meant I didn't much enjoy reading this. If one line or word needs half a page of explanation, find another way to say it. It may be that it hasn't aged well from the cold war setting, or it could be that the emphasis was wrong, but this is a definite 'could do better'.
June 20, 2013
Relatively early Deighton, which doesn't hit the heights of his later novels. It seems oddly pitched - part spoof - with the laconic private eye and a cast of Bond-like characters - and part McLean-like thriller. Deighton's invention makes it an easy and quite enjoyable read, but it is really very much a period piece.
May 22, 2020
Set almost entirely in France, An Expensive Place to Die is the 5th novel in the Secret File/Unnamed Hero series.
Whilst I felt the story was a bit better than Billion Dollar Brain, I still didn't enjoy it as much as SS-GB & XPD.
It's a decent spy thriller, but I didn't find it as enthralling as some others have.
Whilst I felt the story was a bit better than Billion Dollar Brain, I still didn't enjoy it as much as SS-GB & XPD.
It's a decent spy thriller, but I didn't find it as enthralling as some others have.
February 22, 2025
Another early tale from the nameless protagonist of The Ipcress File. Thrilled to find a copy in a charity shop and complete my collection. Len Deighton is such a great writer of good English.
August 26, 2023
The late critic Pearl K Bell in her review of Deighton's 1975 novel Spy Story (The New Leader Jan 1976) described his writing style as such:
"... all murk and no menace.... evasive indirection has been Deighton's trademark since his first spy novel, The IPCRESS File, appeared in 1963. At the time, his obsessive reliance on the blurred and intangible, on loaded pauses and mysteriously disjointed dialogue, did convey the shadowy meanness of the spy's world, with its elusive loyalties, camouflaged identities and weary brutality."
She nailed it on the head. It is a technique that I like, and it works with the other so-called "Secret File" novels that Mr. Deighton wrote in the Sixties and Seventies. I equate the experience to reading a redacted file. One gets part of the story and then has to fill in the rest using intuition and deductive reasoning...or is that reductive reasoning? Well, no matter. What is important is that for some reason the style didn't work for me with this one. I found An Expensive Place to die to be rather slow and meandering. At times I was also genuinely confused and lost. The ending is abrupt, and it took me going back a few pages to figure out just what the hell had happened. I was a bit disappointed to be honest. It also took some effort for me to get through this one.
All in all, not one of Mr. Deighton's better novels. Well one can't score every time one is batting.
"... all murk and no menace.... evasive indirection has been Deighton's trademark since his first spy novel, The IPCRESS File, appeared in 1963. At the time, his obsessive reliance on the blurred and intangible, on loaded pauses and mysteriously disjointed dialogue, did convey the shadowy meanness of the spy's world, with its elusive loyalties, camouflaged identities and weary brutality."
She nailed it on the head. It is a technique that I like, and it works with the other so-called "Secret File" novels that Mr. Deighton wrote in the Sixties and Seventies. I equate the experience to reading a redacted file. One gets part of the story and then has to fill in the rest using intuition and deductive reasoning...or is that reductive reasoning? Well, no matter. What is important is that for some reason the style didn't work for me with this one. I found An Expensive Place to die to be rather slow and meandering. At times I was also genuinely confused and lost. The ending is abrupt, and it took me going back a few pages to figure out just what the hell had happened. I was a bit disappointed to be honest. It also took some effort for me to get through this one.
All in all, not one of Mr. Deighton's better novels. Well one can't score every time one is batting.
November 22, 2017
The fifth of Deighton's "unnamed spy" novels, this is slightly different to the previous books in that it is set almost entirely in Paris.
Our hero has been on assignment for six months and Deighton describes him as a middle-aged, slightly out of shape cynic. There's no Colonel Ross, no London, he doesn't even know who his case officer is.
The plot revolves around the mysterious Mr Datt and his house of ill-repute, where various high ranking officials of many nationalities indulge in all manner of sexual activity. All recorded by Datt, noted and filed. Nuclear documents are involved, supplied by the Americans to entice Red China. Meanwhile the French police are on the case when a girl is killed and a woman named Maria plays both sides and our hero off against each other.
The plot is complex but the book never drags because Deighton is a supreme storyteller. His descriptions of Paris are evocative and his love of all things French (he is an accomplished French cook) shines through.
The change of scene makes for a different kind of story compared to the previous books, still full of intrigue and treachery, but flavoured by the French setting. Another excellent Deighton novel.
Our hero has been on assignment for six months and Deighton describes him as a middle-aged, slightly out of shape cynic. There's no Colonel Ross, no London, he doesn't even know who his case officer is.
The plot revolves around the mysterious Mr Datt and his house of ill-repute, where various high ranking officials of many nationalities indulge in all manner of sexual activity. All recorded by Datt, noted and filed. Nuclear documents are involved, supplied by the Americans to entice Red China. Meanwhile the French police are on the case when a girl is killed and a woman named Maria plays both sides and our hero off against each other.
The plot is complex but the book never drags because Deighton is a supreme storyteller. His descriptions of Paris are evocative and his love of all things French (he is an accomplished French cook) shines through.
The change of scene makes for a different kind of story compared to the previous books, still full of intrigue and treachery, but flavoured by the French setting. Another excellent Deighton novel.
December 16, 2025
as always, deighton's writing is great, but wasn't sold on the characters of this one.
shouldn't have been by now, but was still surprised to find some witty social commentary, if you'll call it that...
"outside in the bright sun sat the students; hirsute and earnest, they have come from Munich and Los Angeles sure that Hemingway and Lautrec are still alive and that some day in some left bank café they will find them. but all they ever find are other young men who look exactly like themselves, and it's with this sad discovery that they finally go return to Bavaria or California and become salesmen or executives. meanwhile here they sat in the hot seat of culture, where businessmen became poets, poets became alcoholics, alcoholics became philosophers and philosophers realized how much better it was to be business men."
"all over the world people are personally opposing things they think are bad, but they do them anyway because a corporate decision can take the blame... the Nuremberg trials were held to decide that whether you work for Coco-Cola, Murder Inc. or the Wehrmacht General Staff, you remain responsible for your own actions."
shouldn't have been by now, but was still surprised to find some witty social commentary, if you'll call it that...
"outside in the bright sun sat the students; hirsute and earnest, they have come from Munich and Los Angeles sure that Hemingway and Lautrec are still alive and that some day in some left bank café they will find them. but all they ever find are other young men who look exactly like themselves, and it's with this sad discovery that they finally go return to Bavaria or California and become salesmen or executives. meanwhile here they sat in the hot seat of culture, where businessmen became poets, poets became alcoholics, alcoholics became philosophers and philosophers realized how much better it was to be business men."
"all over the world people are personally opposing things they think are bad, but they do them anyway because a corporate decision can take the blame... the Nuremberg trials were held to decide that whether you work for Coco-Cola, Murder Inc. or the Wehrmacht General Staff, you remain responsible for your own actions."
August 15, 2022
"Girl Tourists - they only come here to be raped. They think it's romantic to be raped in Paris"
Actual dialogue from a female character. And it's not commented on at all?! It really jars to read that during a conversation with two of the leads, one of whom is a policeman.
"As a child she had complained of pain and her mother said that a woman's life is to be accompanied by constant pain.....(as an adult) she tried to disregard all pains as though by acknowledging them she might confess her female frailty"
The writing is seriously sub-par for Leighton. The attempts at writing the female characters range from amateurish to terrible. The two examples above are typical of the drivel in this book.
I LOVE some of his books and read the Samson books numerous times but I gave up on this book at about page 82. There was just the early beginnings of a plot and possibly it gets a lot better but I keep being pulled out of this book by the poor writing and ludicrous characterisations.
I know it's a product of it's time but I'm actually a big fan of crime literature from the 20's-40's and spy thrillers from the 50's/60's and the values/styles on display there are often radically different from modern literature, so it's not that I'm somehow being ultra sensitive or offended - I'm not. I can appreciate something from a different decade/time. It's just that the writing, views and characterization in this particular book, all grate on me and I had to abandon it. First Deighton I've not finished.
Actual dialogue from a female character. And it's not commented on at all?! It really jars to read that during a conversation with two of the leads, one of whom is a policeman.
"As a child she had complained of pain and her mother said that a woman's life is to be accompanied by constant pain.....(as an adult) she tried to disregard all pains as though by acknowledging them she might confess her female frailty"
The writing is seriously sub-par for Leighton. The attempts at writing the female characters range from amateurish to terrible. The two examples above are typical of the drivel in this book.
I LOVE some of his books and read the Samson books numerous times but I gave up on this book at about page 82. There was just the early beginnings of a plot and possibly it gets a lot better but I keep being pulled out of this book by the poor writing and ludicrous characterisations.
I know it's a product of it's time but I'm actually a big fan of crime literature from the 20's-40's and spy thrillers from the 50's/60's and the values/styles on display there are often radically different from modern literature, so it's not that I'm somehow being ultra sensitive or offended - I'm not. I can appreciate something from a different decade/time. It's just that the writing, views and characterization in this particular book, all grate on me and I had to abandon it. First Deighton I've not finished.
November 11, 2022
I enjoy le Carré and feel I should enjoy Deighton. Spy Story I read recently and apparently is part of the same series with the anonymous 'hero' and I think that was more interesting. This felt like a first draft and one that was waiting for the energy to be implanted. It starts off as a first person narrative, but, as Deighton explains in an afterword, he felt the need to write some chapters, but only about a handful, in the third person. I always find this a bit of cheat and feels like a failing by the author. However, chapter 19 starts in the third person, but but part way down the first page slips into first person. Apart from jolting me, this just seems like bad writing. If it had a strong narrative or characters, then I'd probably just ride this, but it hasn't. All a bit dull. And then the simplistic cipher characterisations of men and woman from the two leads tips it over in the dubious. Maybe my last Deighton.
July 24, 2018
An Englishman is living in Paris as a writer, which is not his actual profession. His first task is to find out what goes on behind the doors of an enigmatic Frenchman’s clinic on Avenue Foch. But when invited into the house, he is drugged and pumped for information. Soon he learns that people from other countries frequent the clinic. People with influence and secrets. About half way through the book, events take a more sinister turn, starting with a death. How will further events unfold? Who will survive? Who will be incriminated?
I found this story a little tedious. It was not one of my favourite genres. There were many changes of fortune, but the seriousness of those events seemed to be halfhearted. I’m not sure that this kind of spy story translates well to today’s world. I gave the story 3 stars out of 5.
I found this story a little tedious. It was not one of my favourite genres. There were many changes of fortune, but the seriousness of those events seemed to be halfhearted. I’m not sure that this kind of spy story translates well to today’s world. I gave the story 3 stars out of 5.
April 3, 2021
I've saved this thin book for years, having set it aside knowing its author is retired and preserving a prize that would be brand new to me. It lived up to expectations. The expensive place to die is Paris. Most people would call it an expensive place to live, but in the title is a clue to the dry humor and gripping writing style of a spy novelist whose artful writing seems to be calibrated exactly for me. You have to know your literary devices to find them as they are blended seamlessly into this quick compelling read. Like all of Deighton's characters, this narrator is exquisitely trapped by his friends, his enemies, and his own sense of duty to perform the most dangerous work in the world.
November 5, 2023
As I’m a simpleton reader any form of opacity is likely to confuse if not floor me completely and though I’m a massive admirer of Len Deighton I find these 1960’s thrillers particularly troublesome. Give me Bernard Samson’s simpler world in which the characters’ motivation is more apparent and their personalities more sympathetic.
There’s some hokum here about us letting the Chinese know about the devastating effects of radioactive fallout so they won’t be so keen to develop their own bomb. Well good luck with that. Quite why it had to be done through a Paris brothel specialising in “sexual research’ (mucky films) was never adequately explained. And was I supposed to visualise the main protagonist as Michael Caine’s Harry Palmer or not?
There’s some hokum here about us letting the Chinese know about the devastating effects of radioactive fallout so they won’t be so keen to develop their own bomb. Well good luck with that. Quite why it had to be done through a Paris brothel specialising in “sexual research’ (mucky films) was never adequately explained. And was I supposed to visualise the main protagonist as Michael Caine’s Harry Palmer or not?
spying-and-side-effects
August 5, 2021Len Deighton inevitably invites comparison with John LeCarre, but this novel does not have the same sense of gritty reality as the latter's Cold War ones. The plot from 1967 is interesting enough, but the main villain could be one from Ian Fleming (without the fun) rather than a realistic Cold War one. The "unnamed hero" narrator does not work well for spy novels because he always knows more that he lets out. To confuse more, there are chapters and even sections of chapters written in the third person. Paris and Belgium in the 1960s are fairly well depicted, and everything moves along at an amusing but not very insightful pace.
January 24, 2023
Deighton is at it again. The Brits want their agent to make contact with a shady character who runs a house of pleasure and parties in Paris. They want their agent to share information on the results of nuclear weapons testing. It ends up being a dangerous assignment full of twists and turns with the leading man not knowing who to trust and when. He is even misled by his own people. Quite and entertaining yarn.
February 25, 2018
A very enjoyable portrayal of mid-20th century Paris with its quaint cafes and deprivation. A not unintelligent plot, with some intrigue and twists, and no mention of W.O.O.C.P. - however, again towards the end Deighton seems to have rushed it and left two too many blanks in the mind of the reader.
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