One of his sons worked hard to compile letters he wrote to others, since he didn't keep a file copy of his own handwritten letters. Once he started faxing them, a copy would often be saved. Still, there's a lot here, and it is a window into a person's mindset over time (he died in 2020 at age 89).

letters of John le Carré A Private Spy audiobook review – the letters of John le Carré

John le Carré was a defining writer of his time. This enthralling collection letters - written to readers, publishers, film-makers and actors, politicians and public figures - reveals the playfully intelligent and unfailingly eloquent man behind the penname. I betrayed you, you say,” rages Cornwell the retired informer. But Cornwell doesn’t accept this charge. He even complains, hilariously, that Mitchell sees himself as the innocent high-minded victim (how could he have formed this impression, one wonders?). Then, plainly in answer to a question from Mitchell, he asks: “What did I know to betray? What did you know or do that was betrayable? What did I tell my ‘masters’?” There are, presumably, files somewhere which would clear this up. But Cornwell asserts ludicrously that he expects he told his masters that Mitchell was “a good man,” wisely adding, in case the documents ever came to light, as such things sometimes do, “I forget, and so I am sure did they.” My best moment was being offered a chance to meet Philby, which I declined. Genrikh Borovik, an old hood who is writing P’s ‘biography’ and has 17 hrs of tape recording with him, told me what a nice guy Kim was, and what a great patriot. I said I fully agreed. He was just like Penkovsky [Oleg Penkovsky was a Russian spy who was executed for treason after passing secrets to the West, most notably in the run up to the Cuban missile crisis], I said: fun, and straight as a dye. Just a pity poor old Oleg wasn’t in London, I said, for me to introduce him to Genrikh. Fry first wrote in 1991. ‘The English dam can withstand the pressure of 15 years of admiration and affection no longer,’ he said. ‘The only writer I’ve ever written to apart from yourself was PG Wodehouse.’ After reading The Night Manager, he wrote again. James Bond, on the other hand, breaks no such Communist principles. You know him well. He is the hyena who stalks the capitalist deserts, he is an identifiable antagonist, sustained by capital and kept in good heart by the charms of a materialist society; he is a chauvinist, an unblinking patriot who makes espionage exciting. Bond on his magic carpet takes us away from moral doubt, banishes perplexity with action, morality with duty. Above all, he has the one piece of equipment without which not even his formula would work: an entirely evil enemy.At the Berlin film festival with his wife Valerie Jane Cornwell. Photograph: Franziska Krug/Getty Images It’s not hard to see why. In Smiley’s People — the third act of the trilogy of masterly Cold War novels that began with Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy — le Carré's ruthless Russian spymaster, Karla, schemes to protect his only weak point, the small, broken thing at the heart of his being, his schizophrenic, secret child. To smuggle her to safety from his enemies in Russia, Karla sends an agent to the west to find a discreet mental hospital and a convincing false identity, “a legend for a girl”. This means that fans who have read only some of the books can dip into those chapters directly if they choose. But honestly, it's compelling to read the entire thing, end to end. David Cornwell's life (his real name) was a story of abandonment, deceit and betrayal by his parents, and these concepts recur in his books. For those who have read his autobiography “The Pigeon Tunnel” his opinions and beliefs won't be surprising, but he was probably more candid in his private correspondence than he was in his autobiography. (He was a famously private man – hence the title.) Thanks so much for your very touching letter. Your feelings about Brexit spoke into my heart. Just now I wd rather be Dutch, German, French, or for that matter Polish, than a Brit subjected to this truly shaming process in which we are engaged. .... Le Carre with his wife, Jane, in St Buryan, Cornwall, May 1993. Photograph: John Stoddart/Popperfoto/Getty Images

‘The Russian Bond is on his way’: exclusive extracts from the

I've found that one of the best ways to learn who a person really is and how (s)he relates to others is by reading the letters the writer leaves behind. This is as true today as it was at the time of Cicero. The harsh Martin Ritt movie of The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965), starring Richard Burton and Claire Bloom, won four Bafta awards, including best British film. Le Carré’s account of the making of the movie appears in The Pigeon Tunnel. Of course, only fans of John le Carré will want to read this book. But for those of us who are, and who have read all his books, this one is catnip. His views of British and American intelligence activities were muted but not silent. He had opinions that he expressed and believed that Britain was a failed nation (not his words, but my reading). His grandmother was born in Cork and Cornwell finally applied for and received Irish citizenship based on his grandmother's Irish birthright (although there are now restrictions, Ireland permits a descendant of any person born in Ireland not more than 3 generations away from the birth to become an Irish citizen upon application) about a year or so before he died. He was very candid about it: he despised Brexit and thought Boris Johnson was an oaf. When he was notified of having received Irish citizenship, he wrote a letter to the Irish official charged with processing immigrant applications for citizenship, thanking her and her staff for the "honour" of granting him citizenship. His expression of joy was simply that: no hard feelings toward Boris or Brexit, just joy at being Irish.This is probably the last major piece of work we'll see about him, unless someone does a big biography. But frankly, with “The Pigeon Tunnel” combined with this book, there may not be that much material left untold that would warrant another book. Engaging, insightful, wise, and gloriously witty correspondent John le Carre, pen name of David Cornwell, is all of these. He is the master storyteller who burst upon the world stage at the height of the Cold War with his superb and timely, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold. In this well-selected trove of his letters to both famous and little-known correspondents, we discover a vein of gold. We discern, through the gimlet eye of his son, Tim Cornwell, an eclectic collection of letters about life, family, world events, personalities, writing, and humane insights. Where possible, Cornwell also includes the referenced letters and articles from those to whom he wrote. Thanks for yours, and please forgive this typed response: I am in the late throes of the novel. The family bad news has brightened..... I would be puzzled to know, if I were in Putin’s position, how to run Donald Trump as my asset. I have no doubt that they have obtained him, and they could probably blow him out of the water whenever they felt like it, but I think they are having much more fun feeding his contradictions and contributing to the chaos. The terrifying thing is, the closer he draws to Putin, the more he lies and denies, the stronger his support among the faithful. You don’t need to own Trump as an agent. You just have to let him run. We are moving to London for an unknown period while I change the atmosphere around the book. I hope to have completed some kind of first draft by the Fall.

A Private Spy - Penguin Books UK

The book is well-edited, and we do not learn everything about the writer. But, we learn plenty about the man, who wrote with love, and courtesy (even when he was upset or distressed), saying just enough in his letters to know who he was as a person who wished well for the world and its people, and who was not hesitant about citing events and people who he believed were misdirected or evil. In one letter, which I think really offers insight into Cornwell, he writes that he has a bad habit of wanting to isolate himself from the world with his family when he's not working and really wants to act differently in that regard, but in about half of the letters, he is making excuses why he cannot meet or attend conferences or visit friends. Much like George Smiley, he will act decisively when called upon, but for all of it is quite happy left alone with his manuscripts and daydreams. I knew Greene a bit, & was in awe of him,” he writes, towards the end of his life, “but I never really believed in his Catholic convictions. As a literary tool, they work to a point, but God is really best denied in fiction — Camus & Co — and morality left to struggle without him.”Le Carré first met Stoppard when he was hired as the screenwriter for The Russia House in 1989. “I found Stoppard enchanting and extremely intelligent,” he told Alec Guinness. Ultimately, he’s reasserting ownership of the narrative. I feel for Sisman: out to be definitive, he got cornered into granting copy approval before being scooped by someone whose story it actually was. Not the secret life of John le Carré, then, so much as the secret life of John le Carré, the 2015 biography whose blind spots – we now know – can’t be pinned on its beleaguered author.

John le Carré | Books | The Guardian John le Carré | Books | The Guardian

It was part of how it worked: he produced, they edited; he burned, she fanned’ ... David Cornwell at his desk at home in 1974. Photograph: Ben Martin/The LIFE Images Collection/Getty Images Thank you for your letter of June 28th. I was touched by the point you made, but I do not see the problem quite as literally as you do. I have written much about men who are not able to relate to women, because in the male oriented world from which I draw my experience – and indeed, my upbringing – the gap you deplore is, unfortunately, all too common. So I beg you to believe me when I tell you that I share your respect for the qualities and sufferings of women, whose company and talents I indeed greatly prefer to those of men. This tie was given to me by my wife when I went to lunch with Mrs. Thatcher. Its colours were aptly chosen: the deep blue of Mrs. Thatcher’s convictions, shot with the intermittent red of my own frail socialism, and an insipid yellowish colour which I am afraid says much about my moral courage. The Spy Who Came in from the Cold announced a new voice in the rich British tradition of espionage writing. Nothing in Le Carré’s previous novels had suggested he had the skill to create such a tense and richly nuanced portrayal of an espionage operation. It remains the most perfectly plotted of his books. How wonderful to have your letter, the contents of which I passed to Jonathan Powell at the BBC this morning. If possible, he was even happier than I was to hear that, in principle, you are enthusiastic to take on Smiley.

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So we loved each other, because actually that’s all we had, & we reacted off each other, towards & against each other, & we lived in each other’s skins, & revolted against the captivity, & the emptiness of the rest of our lives, and we learned sex too late like everything else, and we went our different ways, but probably they were ultimately very similar ways, which is another serious annoyance. Our father was a mad genes-bank, a truly wild card, and in my memory disgusting – still. I never mourned him, never missed him, I rejoiced at his death. Is that so awful? I don’t think so. For a lovely moment, he gave a sage nod, & the complicity was absolute. Then to his credit he let out a wild whoop of laughter, remembering too late that they were his mikes…