Just Finished Reading: Blood of Victory by Alan Furst.

At the end of 1940 Russian émigré and novelist I A Serebin is in Istanbul visiting an ex-lover dying of TB. Whilst there he is approached by a member of British Intelligence with a request: Will he help them disrupt the flow of oil (the blood of victory in the title) from Romania to Nazi Germany. Feeling the need to ‘do something’ he agrees and becomes involved in the clandestine world of espionage in Occupied Europe.

As expected from reading a few of his pervious works, Furst delivers a beautifully written book about fractured people living through desperate times. Taking place largely within émigré communities throughout Europe a sense of loss is palpable throughout the entire book. Furst cleverly evokes a real sense of time and place and with consummate skill makes the reader feel that they are looking over Serebin’s shoulder as he makes his way through the plot. Twists and turns abound – along with incidents that are unexplained and remain unresolved – and the tension is at times almost unbearable. The characterisation is quite superb as is the dialogue between the characters where much is left unsaid yet reading between the lines much is conveyed. It feels like the author knew these people intimately and after reading this book it feels like I do too. There are even laugh out loud moments of gallows humour – exactly what real people would say in those circumstances. Furst has a first-rate knowledge of both the era and the people who inhabited it. With every page turned the reader is drawn a little more into that strange though hauntingly familiar world. This was one of those books that you put down at the end with a sigh and a regret that it’s all over. Quite, quite superb. Very highly recommended for fans of spy novels or anyone wanting a cracking good read.