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It's 1938, and a sinister tide of Fascism is growing in strength throughout Europe. Ex-cavalry officer Nicholas Morath (originally from Hungary) returns to his young mistress in Paris's Seventh Arrondissement. He has been helping his uncle Count Janos Polanyi, a diplomat, in his attempt to stop Hungary drifting into an allegiance with Nazi Germany. But this is a very dangerous game for Morath and his uncle, involving double dealing between defectors, SS renegades and British politicians. And as Hitler marches into Prague, Morath's foolhardy country-hopping endeavours grow ever more dangerous.
On the level of a highly intelligent espionage tale, Furst demonstrates a masterly command of the idiom, with Polanyi's dangerous odysseys between the Czech fortresses of the Sudeten mountains and the villas of Budapest handled in an utterly authoritative fashion. The driving force behind his narrative is always the struggles within the souls of his characters, and the way the human spirit can survive under the most appalling conditions. Morath, in particular, is drawn with all the complexity and insight that has become Furst's trademark, and we follow his journeys with ever-mounting concern. Furst's way with a passage of tension remains nonpareil, as with this dangerous traversing of a ruined bridge:Flat on his belly, Morath worked his way across the bridge. He could hear the water as it rushed passed, ten feet below, could feel it--the damp chill air that rose from heavy current. He did not look back, Pavlo would either find the nerve to do this or he wouldn't. Crawling over the weathered planks, he realised that a lot more of it had burned than was evident from the shoreline. Long before he reached the end, he stopped. The bridge trembled and swayed each time he moved.--Barry Forshaw --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
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Furst's central character forty-ish Nicholas Morath loves Paris, where he's been living for some time now as a (not "an") Hungarian expatriot (which translates, in those days, as an aristocrat!). Indeed, a bon vivant in his own right, Nicholas' life even borders on the boring, despite the prestigious life style he enjoys--his uncle is a count; he moves in and out of Parisian high life.
But he's not French. He's Hungarian and the winds of war certainly are undeniable. He also is privy to the covert Nazi political machinations and, like Cassandra, knows the future only too well. Thus, he is enlisted by his uncle to "help the cause" and he goes about with the energy of a true patriot.Furst treats us to a geography lesson as well,as Nicholas hops, skips, and jumps his way across the path of the German war machine, from Paris to Budapest to Bratislava to Antwerp,and so on. The atmosphere Furst creates works well with the geography of the land, the political climate of the time, and the naivete of much of the "modern world." This is not to say that "Kingdom of Shadows" is dull reading--far from it. The author has no difficulty in catching--and holding--the reader's undivided attention. His dramatic pacing, his power of description and episode--all blend into an excellent read, one that, due to its historical implications, certainly cannot contain a "and they lived happily ever after" ending. We know what Hitler did in l939 and that he continued for a few more years. Furst doesn't take us past 1939.
This is an excellent read--not just for studetns of history, but for anyone who delights in being caught up in a plausible--yet exciting--storyline. (Billyjhobbs@tyler.net)
Indeed, Mr. Read more
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