My love of reading was shaped, in part, by the books that resided on my father’s paperback novel shelf—John D. MacDonald, Leon Uris, James A. Mitchner…and of course, Alistair MacLean. So it was with a strong sense of nostalgia that I picked up one of the few books by him I hadn’t read, Puppet on a Chain.
I was disappointed.
One disappointment was the main character, Major Sherman, an INTERPOL agent investigating narcotics trafficking in Amsterdam. He’s a typical MacLean character in that he is cynical, confident, and competent. Unfortunately, he is not as compelling as MacLean’s other protagonists. I will stop short of saying there is nothing likable about him, but he is far from charismatic. As I reader, I just don’t care about Sherman or his mission.
The implausibility of the story is another thing I don’t like about the novel. Perhaps in 1969 the word heroin, alone, was inherently evil enough to not require elucidation. But if Sherman has spent two years trying to crack this operation, I want to see the scourge that heroin is, in detail, not have one strung out junkie paraded out of the character rolls and then have me believe that Sherman is risking his life for that.
Sherman identifies the antagonists in the book as “a brilliantly directed criminal organization,” yet, given three opportunities to kill him, these brilliant criminals fail to carry it out. And I’m supposed to believe that an entire village is not only cooperating with Reverend Goodbody in his smuggling operation, but will commit murder?