Sunday 20 June 2010

#36 The Ministry of Fear, by Graham Greene (Vintage)

If, like me, you like a bit of cake, the start and opening plot device of The Ministry of Fear is irresistible.

I'll recite the blurb on the reverse: "For Arthur Rowe, the charity fete was a trip back to childhood, to innocence, a welcome chance to escape the terror of the Blitz, to forget 20 years of his past and a murder... Then he guesses the weight of a cake, and from that moment on he's a hunted man, the target of shadowy killers, on the run and struggling to find the truth." It's definitely one to hook baking aficionados.

Better known for novels such as The End of the Affair, The Third Man, Our Man in Havana and The Quiet American, The Ministry of Fear was the first of Greene's work I had read (although I've seen a few film adaptations), and I enjoyed it greatly.

Reading up on Greene, it seems he separated his work into what he called 'entertainments', which were typically crime suspenses, and 'novels', which were what he considered more significant examples of his craft as an author. This book falls firmly into the former category, but that's no bad thing in my eyes.

Set in a London where you can hear the bombs falling around you, Greene sets off at a roaring pace and only pauses for breath when he needs to introduce a contemplative note. The plot twists and turns more than Ronaldo in full flight and chapters frequently end with a cliffhanger which implores the reader to turn the page and continue.

Consequently, I raced through the novel, and from the mysterious Rowe, about whom new details are cleverly introduced, to the spy ring war plot which blossoms from a case of mistaken identity, there is barely a word out of place. The best book I've read so far this year.

So, rating time:

#36 The Ministry of Fear, by Graham Greene (Vintage) - 9/10

Next up: Hell to Pay, by George Pelecanos (Orion)

  • Click here for the full list of books so far, and their rating

  • Just as an aside, it seems that Greene greatly enjoyed parody, even of himself. Apparently, in 1949, when the New Statesman held a contest for parodies of Greene's writing style, he submitted an entry himself - and won second prize.

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