A writer’s reputation seldom stands higher than in the immediate aftermath of his death. A combination of friends’ tributes, readers’ eulogies and a natural spirit of “De mortuis nihil nisi bonum” create a climate of acclaim that is often largely well merited. Later, when a decent interval has elapsed, come the questions, the reassessments and the research that may significantly modify the reputation of the deceased.
John le Carré, or David Cornwell, as preferred – but let us call him by his literary pseudonym in this instance – is currently subject to the hagiography that immediately follows decease, though it is only fair to say that much of the praise being heaped on his writing is well deserved and unlikely to be reversed. A novelist is judged by his characters and George Smiley alone is testimony to the subtlety of le Carré’s creative genius, which sometimes attained Dickensian proportions. Then there is the atmosphere created around the “Circus”: persuasive, unique, inventive and satirical.
