::AMAZON REVIEWS::

A debut with impact on the genre
The movie inspired by Len Deighton (LD)'s The Ipcress File (TIF), first published in 1962, starred a very young Michael Caine as the nameless hero, who is modelled to some extent on his creator.
TIF is written in the I-form (first person singular) and readers are therefore dragged into this person's universe. At the start of the book he is transferred from the UK War Office to an undercover counter-intelligence unit. His preferred consumables (Blue Mountain coffee, Gauloises cigarettes) suggest he has been abroad, during and after WW II. Despite his lack of a classical education (Eton, Oxbridge) he stands his ground against colleagues who did. At times he is insolent, flippant, ironic, sarcastic, and gradually, scared.
Because strange things are happening: UK scientists are disappearing and are being moved across the Iron Curtain. In the US, sensitive research data are leaked at an alarming speed and magnitude. What is going on? That is for the reader to find out. The book's venues are London and its periphery, Lebanon and the Tokwe atoll in the Pacific, a nuclear test site.
TIF was LDs debut at the age of 40. He has published some 40 books since then, mostly on espionage during WW II and the Cold War (with 3 trilogies about spy Bernard Samson). His main interests in life show up in his debut:(1)the nameless hero is a military history buff; LD later on published a number of highly acclaimed books on WW II;(2) reflecting the hero's fondness for good food, LD wrote cookbooks;(3)the hero being a technology fan, LD's future books always remained at the forefront of espionage writing. But fortunately, technology never dominates, not now, not later.
TIF is prescient on the use of computers, ultra-high speed transmission, new uses of B-52 bombers and submarines, etc. TIF is a wonderful debut of a man who equals Le Carré in terms of atmosphere and English class issues, but sweeps him briskly aside on modern technology and its uses. A very influential debut.

More realistic than Bond
Reading this book after any of Ian Fleming's was an example of the notional shock to the system. Fleming's James Bond was a field agent and not just any field agent, mind you. He was a member of an exclusive group; those authorized by the government to kill their enemies. It was never clear if all double-zero agents were as urbane and sophisticated as Bond. What was certain was that the character - whether in print or on film - was the epitome of cool. In fact, it wasn't until deep into the series of books that Bond ever exhibited loss of composure. James Bond was the kind man that men wanted to emulate. He moved through his missions with aplomb, virtuosity, a sense and sensibility that left one breathless and awestruck.

In 1962 - the same year that we were introduced to Sean Connery as Bond in Dr. No - The Ipcress File was published in the UK. Posited as a debriefing to a high government official and told in the first person by the protagonist. We learn of the discovery and eventual dismantling of a "brain-washing" business run by a mercenary organization with no ties to any government. In that aspect, the entity is similar to Fleming's SPECTRE; UNCLE's THRUSH or even KAOS on Get Smart! As with any good trip, getting there is half the fun. The Ipcress File is a maze and minefield of clues, double and triple crosses, surveillance, shoot-outs and torture. But, it is there that similarities end.

The story is dressed out with an attention to description that is at once fascinating; obtuse to the reader and ultimately so dense with minutia that the reader feels as if they are inside the never-named hero's head looking through his eyes. Deighton does not write, "I walked along the Street." Instead, the journey is depicted via an amalgam of precision and metaphor, the density of which seems at first overwhelming but is really simply the insight into the character himself.

And what a character Deighton has created! He is as unlike James Bond, the uber-mensch of espionage, as is possible. At best a mid-level operative, the man is capable of pettiness, bitterness, vindictiveness, anger, jealousy and a host of other flaws, large and small. In short, he is as consummately human as is possible. His telling of the story reflects this and - if truth be known - one is never quite sure how skewed by prejudices is his recitation of the events. Some will find this off-putting; others will think it realistic.

This was author Deighton's debut novel. The franchise continued for the next thirty-four years. During that time, the character changed only slightly - mostly in terms of age; he always seemed to be in the 35 to 45 year range. One thing never changed and that was the depiction of the spy business. While Fleming made it romantic, Deighton's version was far more sordid and - more often than one perhaps wished - the lines between good and bad, them and us; even winners and losers was never firmly delineated.

In that aspect, the story is closer in tone to the works - yet to come in 1962 - of John LeCarre. However, LeCarre's works always centered around a more elite group who had achieved their position through combination of education, social status and family. Deighton's spy - when killing an American agent while protecting his boss or aiding a Soviet agent who personified the title of fellow-traveler - was the once and future working-class hero. A man on a path along which he would be as likely attacked by friend as foe; if it fact, he could tell them apart.

The climax and denouement of the novel finds him left - as he always knew, deep in his heart, he would be - dependent only upon himself and his own devices for survival. In Deighton's world, spying is necessary but the very need for it does not impart an iota of glamour.

"It's a confusing story. I'm in a very confusing business."
Deighton's debut is a decidedly sardonic (but not jokey) spy tale that delivers wit and action even while whole sections of it are simply incomprehensible. However, the very things that make it so quirky and dated are also what make it fascinating. There's almost a Beat aesthetic at work.

And the plot is much more globe-trotting than the Caine movie.

I'm not sure why to this day people refer to the unnamed hero of the book as "Harry Palmer" his screen name and not Aquarius his astrological sign that opens most chapters.

A nice read
While now being somewhat outdated, I really enjoy his brand o espionage. Deighton's mastery of dialogue is apparent, along with his ability to make the reader feel a part of the story and era. Deighton's research into contemporary Cold War espionage practices and bureaucracy is superb, as in all his books. Very believable, crisp, and gripping. Highly recommended

Deighton's Debut
It is said that this debut from Deighton transformed the thriller genre, and after reading its elliptical not-plot, one can see why. This first in the so-called "Harry Palmer" quartet (the narrator isn't named in print, only in the films based on the books), firmly established the idea of spy as bureaucrat, rather than spy as action hero. The narrator is a sardonic, apparently middle-class, man who has been transferred into an awkwardly acronymed small department of the British espionage system, which is run by proper upper-class gents. There, his first assignment is to assist in the investigation of the mysterious disappearance of a number of British scientists. His problem is that information is so compartmentalized that he's never really clear what's going on or how to even begin.

Most readers are likely to be equally confused as they try to unravel the tangled web of bureaucratic infighting that seems to shroud the whole book. It doesn't help matters when the scene shifts to Lebanon, where the narrator and his support team is involved in retrieving one of the scientists. The plot (such as it is) gets further confused when the boss goes off on assignment, leaving the narrator in charge of the section. And then the boss comes back out of the blue and they all troop off to a South Pacific atoll to witness some kind of American nuclear test. It's hard to see where Deighton's going with all this, and even more so when it becomes apparent that the narrator is actually under suspicion of being a Soviet spy.

In the end, Deighton waves his wand and removes his handkerchief to reveal the solution to all the confusion, and while it more or less works, it somehow feels cheap. There's even a whole "explanation" scene where the narrator spells everything out to another character for the reader's benefit. The research into the espionage bureaucracy of the era is admirable, and Deighton does have a deft hand at description and some nice turns of phrase, but the plotting is so skimpy as to be noticeable in its absence. It's kind of interesting to read about spies as regular bureaucrats with expense account issues and bag wages owed to them, but that only gets one so far. In the end, for all the groundbreaking style, the "threat" to the