A
CHANCE find at our local public library has brought me to the company of a
favourite old author.
I’m
talking about the spy/thriller writer Eric Ambler. Sadly, most of his work
seems to have been out of print for quite a long time now – I haven’t seen any
of the books for years, at least twenty…
So, if
you haven’t heard of him it’s hardly a surprise. But re-reading Ambler now, in
a new Penguin Modern Classics edition, I’m enchanted all over again by the
quality of his prose.
It’s
the kind of writing I would have liked to have done myself. Indeed, I once had
a bash at writing thrillers, but discovered my imagination simply didn’t run in
that direction.
Which
is a pity, since I do enjoy reading this genre of fiction, especially when it’s
of such a high order.
Okay,
yes, it’s a little dated, written and set, as it is, in the pre-World War Two
years of the thirties. But the wonderful sweep of the storytelling, the realism
of the setting, the truthfulness of
psychology of his characters, the pristine quality of the literary style
all make for sheer reading joy.
No
need to take my word for it, though. When the likes of Graham Greene, John Le
Carré and Alfred Hitchcock all
praise him as one of the best thriller writers of all time, then you just know
you’re onto someone really special.
I
commend him to your attention.
