- Paperback
- Publisher: Random House Inc (P) (Jun 1996)
- Language English
- ISBN-10: 0679773290
- ISBN-13: 978-0679773290
- Average Customer Review: 3.5 out of 5 stars See all reviews (10 customer reviews)
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‘There’s unlikely to be a more engrossing read this year. Just wonderful’
Time Out
‘The World at Night is a brilliant piece of atmospheric writing’
Daily Telegraph
‘A TENSE THRILLER OF ESPIONAGE AND BLACK INTRIGUE… SUPERB’
Sunday Express
‘A wonderfully evocative picture of wartime Paris… brilliant’
Mail on Sunday
‘Furst has an eye and an ear for the feel of the 1940s in occupied Europe. The sights, sounds and colours are all authentic. A minor masterpiece’
The Times
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The progress of Jean Casson, a cynical, apolitical man of the world into a spy for the British in Paris in 1940 is done very well indeed. One begins observing him, as he goes about his deal-making, meets his mistresses, joins his wife for her birthday party, making money and enjoying life. His change to committed anti-Nazi is both believable and enjoyable. Particularly well done is Furst's portrayal of the German invaders as not always efficient, certainly no supermen.
As amateur intelligence operation, Casson is mediocre at best, and it's never really clear why he agrees to help. The perhaps reflects a certain aspect of France at the time, the desire to retain honor, but without having to do too much hard work, or put oneself into too dangerous a situation. At the same time his espionage work starts, he rekindles an old relationship that is perhaps his one true love. This never transcends the generic potboiler romance level, and fails to add any depth to what little story there is. As in all of Furst's writing, the book is rich in detail when in comes to occupied Europe, one really gets the vibe of the cafés, restaurants, and street life in Paris. However, the espionage angle develops rather confusingly and almost randomly, resulting in a rather convoluted anticlimactic finale, which includes a ridiculous escape scene. This weakness is only further exacerbated by the book's abrupt end-why this brief story and Red Gold were split into two books is both annoying a bit of a mystery. The result is that this book is probably the weakest of Furst's espionage oeuvre.
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