THE MISSION SONG IS A BOOK EASIER to admire than to enjoy: you either, like Glynn Haggett, said so plainly, or it could be read between the lines of your e-mails. John le Carré deals with some worthy topics and sometimes readers might wonder if they are being lectured at rather than entertained.

If the book has a real flaw it is, as Helen Holmes points out in the star letter, the section that deals with the secret conference. Salvo, our hero, is an interpreter employed to attend a clandestine meeting between men who have it in their power to make a difference to the plight of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Salvo is also told to bug the delegates in their private rooms. This part of the book drags and I think perhaps le Carré wanted a contrast with the shocking torture scene. One minute we are embroiled in politics, the next a man is screaming like a pig.

Once the conversations at the conference end, the pace speeds up and we run breathlessly with Salvo as he tries to save the day. Salvo may be naive, but he is young and in love; a character of whom le Carré can be proud.

Star letter

I confess to opening this book gingerly, having found aspects of previous le Carré plots complex to the point of impenetrability, but the author’s dry humour and light touch make it for the most part easily readable.

Le Carré’s painterly prose sweeps us into his trademark excavation of the murky recesses of human motivation; his dialogue is as convincing as ever. His characterization is generally strong and the story satisfactorily labyrinthine. The endearing Salvo’s fatal flaw of vanity provides an appropriate “hook” for his comeuppance, and all the villains are mercilessly and evenhandedly exposed.

So why was I left feeling less than ecstatic? Some longueurs slow the pace to strolling speed; and the scarcely credible extent of Salvo’s gullibility undermines the suspense and makes the dénouement somewhat predictable. If we can see it coming, why can’t he? Helen Holmes, Morpeth, Northumberland

August 31, 2007

How challenging is it for a writer of 75 to tell a younger man's tale? And which matters most - the message or the story? Join the discussion below

When Bruno asks his wife, a journalist, to tell the world what is happening to the eastern Congo, are you making a point about how poverty and disease in the region is routinely ignored?

I’m afraid it’s an old Fleet Street saying: white blood goes on page one, brown blood on page five. That doesn’t apply only to Africa. For the corporate media it’s pretty much a universal truth, unless the circumstances are dramatic enough to be entertaining. Starvation and sickness, for instance, need not apply.

What impressions did you gain of the eastern Congo on your visit there?

The tragedy is the greater because of the sheer good heart, energy and optimism of the survivors. Congo doesn’t need a new electorate. It needs a political elite worthy of its electorate. In that sense, it is no different from most Western nations.

How challenging was it to relate the story from the perspective of a 29-year-old?

At my age, I find it easier to identify with youth than with the middle years.

It is possible to read The Mission Song and enjoy the caper and the romance but to skirt over the politics — if some readers do this, how would you react?

I tell a story for people who like stories. If the story can carry a message without sagging under the weight, so much the better. Best by far is to make story, character and message part of the same vehicle. Every reader reads in his own way, has his own likes and dislikes, and takes away his own version of the book. I could never criticise a reader for failing to take a point. I could only criticise myself for not making it strongly enough.

Of all the characters you have created, where does Bruno Salvador rank?

Salvo ranks high for me: a hybrid, nowhere at home, caught between worlds, struggling to do the right thing, a bit thick about a lot of things, rash in love, wanting to serve, but whom? I can’t pretend he isn’t like somebody I used to know fairly well when I was young – me.

Part of the point of a book club is to introduce people to authors they have not read before. If The Mission Song is someone’s first taste of your work, what should they read next?

If they’re interested in the Congo, Michela Wrong’s splendid In the Footsteps of Mr Kurtz and Adam Hochschild’s King Leopold’s Ghost.

Age concern – why can’t the young get inside old heads?

John le Carré, 75, writes The Mission Song from the standpoint of a 29-year-old – and pulls it off. I believed in Bruno Salvador. I believed in his eagerness to please authority and rail against it at the same time. I believed in his naivety and bravery. I believed him when he said he was in and out of love.

Perhaps it should not be surprising that le Carré can wriggle inside the head of another generation. After all, he has been there. It’s far harder to achieve the opposite. I really dislike it when young writers think that they can be anyone.

I can only assume that the judges of last year’s Man Booker Prize either decided that Kiran Desai had understood the character of the elderly judge or had failed to, but it did not matter. The Inheritance of Loss is beautiful in places but the judge is a caricature; Desai has not had to reflect upon a long and disturbing life.

The History of Love was critically acclaimed, but spoilt for me because Nicole Krauss is super-confident that she knows what an old man yearns for. Leo Gursky is a fabulous creation but I never forgot he was just that – with a young author pretending to know his pain.

When I interviewed Barbara Kingsolver, she said that every character she creates carries bits of her own personality and it showed. All the characters in The Poisonwood Bible are believable because they are based on experience.

Our society is obsessed with trying to disguise the ageing process but, when it comes to literature, the young are trying to be old. But they are at a disadvantage; writers such as le Carré will wipe the floor with them every time.

KEY QUESTIONS

Must there be a formula to writing a spy novel?

Is Salvo’s self-image accurate?

Is the political interpretation enlightening or overbearing?

Is the build-up to the torture scene too arduous?

August 18, 2007

A passion for Africa, but wit and irony too. And as befits a master of the spy story, nothing is what it seems

This has been hailed as vintage le Carré; but what if you have never read one of his novels? There is something daunting about letting a big author slip by only to decide to read not his first, but his latest work.

This is my first le Carré. I simply thought that I would not like his books, because of the television adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Alec Guinness gave me the creeps. There, I ignored a fêted author because of a TV version. So thank goodness that book clubs make you taste something you think you’ll find sour. My presumptions were off the mark. I thought le Carré would be dry, but he has wit and irony. I thought The Mission Song would be dense, but it is perfectly accessible.

This is our second title in a matter of months about how the West has exploited Congo. Both The Mission Song and The Poi-sonwood Bible share a passion for justice and truth, but they are very different. Mission is told through the voice of Bruno Salvador, a young translator who is half-Congolese, half-Irish. We meet him at a crisis point. His country needs him for a top-secret mission but that means letting down his wife. But what Bruno, known as Salvo, regards as his country and whether he loves his wife much anyway are not completely straightforward. In fact, very little is what it appears – stock in trade for the spy genre, but refreshing for someone who has read few spy novels.

Mission is both thought provoking and fun. I can even see a role for an unsmiling Alec Guinness type of actor.

The Mission Song by John le Carre

Hodder, £6.99, 400pp.

Buy the book here for £5.59 (free p&p)

- Thanks to Hodder & Stoughton, we have ten copies of The Mission Song to give to one books group. E-mail your details to books@thetimes.co.uk to enter the draw.

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