Another Tuesday, another review of a book by Deborah Swift.
One of the things that really impresses me about Swift’s writing is her ability to move, apparently effortlessly, between different historical settings. Last week I was reviewing her 17th century Italian renaissance novel, The Fortune Keeper, and this week we are in World War II. Life in London during the Blitz is wonderfully evocative, with trips to a Lyons Corner House where you eat Shepherd’s Pies that are mainly potato and beetroot is everywhere. Normal life continues between air raid warnings. It’s spot on.
I can hardly mention the plot. It starts with Nancy being betrayed by her fiancé practically on the eve of their wedding. She flees her quiet life in Scotland to move to London where she gets a job in the offices where her brother works. When she applies, she has no idea that she will be a decoder with the Special Operations Executive – part of the lifeline supporting field agents in occupied Europe.
She soon finds herself falling for a young man who has arrived to shake up the way the SOE codes its messages. So far, so clichéd (and the opening pages with the cad in Scotland did leave me worrying that the book might all be a bit of a cliché). But suddenly the plot kicks into gear with twists and turns that continue throughout the book. Infuriatingly, as a reviewer, I can’t say anything about any of them because any clue as to what is coming will spoil the story. (The title is a spoiler in itself, which annoyed me. I bet that was the publisher’s choice and not the author’s.)
What I can say is that the romantic betrayal that the story starts with is just the first of many betrayals we are going to discover. This is a story about loyalty and betrayal: betrayal because of cowardice or betrayal because you have to sacrifice your friends for your country. It reminds us that not that long ago London was full of people with secrets, determined that no one should ever learn what they were doing for their country – or for the enemy.
Swift writes about the experience of agents in the field and how they can (or more often can’t) survive in a world where German troops are everywhere and where nobody can be trusted. There are scenes of considerable violence. I complained in a review of another Deborah Swift book that she couldn’t write a fight scene, but the fight scenes here are terrific – and she is not afraid to depict the horror of killing with bare hands or whatever tools are available. One agent kills someone by hitting them with a spade and the reality of that killing and how it feels to murder someone so up close and personal is chillingly spelled out.
Whatever you do, don’t get attached to anyone. The body count is high and the human costs of Occupation are graphically captured. Usually you can reassure yourself that it will all come well at the end, but I kept turning the pages worrying about who would die next.
The book ends without the irritating cliff hanger that too many authors put at the end of the first book in what is clearly going to be a series. (OK, someone survives. But I’m not telling you who.) The fact that there will be a Book Two leaves the end of The Silk Code mildly anticlimactic. There is still a war. There will be more deaths. But briefly, until the next book starts, we are allowed an interlude of something almost like peace.
This is a brilliant book, one of Swift’s best. I can’t wait for the next one.
While you’re waiting for The Silk Code to publish, why not pass the time with Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras? It’s set almost a century and a half earlier but Britain is again at war and spies and counter-spies are still vital to the country’s military success. The story of the Lines of Torres Vedras (like the activities of the Special Operations Executive) is true but Burke’s adventures (like Nancy’s) are fictional. Both books, though, feature espionage and counter-espionage, political back-stabbing, and occasional bloody violence. You may well enjoy them both.
Unlike The Silk Code, you can buy Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras today on Kindle or in paperback.
Today is the official publication day for Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras. It’s the seventh in the James Burke series. Lee Child says that it was the seventh Jack Reacher story that was his breakthrough novel, so I live in hope.
The Lines of Torres Vedras were a line (two lines if we’re going to be fussy) of forts designed to form an impregnable barrier from the Atlantic to the River Tagus, cutting off Lisbon from advancing French troops. They really existed and it was a visit to the remains of some of the forts that triggered the idea for the book.
Fort Saint Vicente
It’s also true that at the very end of 1810 four spies fled Lisbon to join the French.
These two facts provide the start and the finish of Burke’s latest adventure. In between we meet some real historical characters – General Beresford, who commanded Allied forces in Portugal and Colonel Fletcher who was responsible for building the forts – and a few fictional ones. There are new allies and some Portuguese traitors. The political background that led to the uncertain loyalties of Portuguese aristocrats is all true. The adventures of these characters in the world of espionage, however, come entirely from my imagination. Spying, by its nature, leaves few records. It means that this story, in particular, has allowed me free rein with a plot that combines the excitement of Fleming’s Bond stories with the more cerebral approach of Le Carré’s spies. Burke’s efforts involve forensic analysis of business accounts as well as kidnappings and murder.
Like all the Burke series, Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras can be read without reading any of the others but the action follows on from Burke and the Pimpernel Affair with the book starting on his return to London after his adventures in Paris.
Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras is available on Kindle at £3.99 or in paperback at a special launch price of £7.99. (All the other Burke books are now £8.99 in paperback.) I hope you will read it and, if you do, please review it on Amazon. Reviews make a huge difference.
I’ve got a new book out this week: Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras. By now I’m getting a bit tired of talking about it (though I’ve forced myself to put a paragraph or two at the end of this post). I’d like to talk about a book by someone else. It’s particularly good to be able to talk about a book I’ve really enjoyed. So here we are with The Fortune Keeper, the third of Swift’s Italian Renaissance series.
The story starts with Giulia Tofana, introduced in The Poison Keeper, still living in the Jewish ghetto in Venice with her lover Fabio. Things have changed, though. She has had two children who both died and she and Fabio have adopted Mia, a young girl now on the cusp of womanhood. The new setup marks a sharp change of gear from the previous story, The Silkworm Keeper. According to a historical note at the end of the book, this was driven largely by the need to adapt the story to take account of new information about Giulia Tofana that has turned up since the first in the trilogy, The Poison Keeper, was written. Whatever the reason, it’s worked out very well. The Poison Keeper is a brilliant book, but keeping the plot going for a second in the series was a stretch and I wasn’t sure that a third would work. The reset that the new research has made necessary means that The Fortune Keeper is able to draw a deep breath and, to a degree, start again, bringing new life to the series.
Not that we are starting from scratch. Several characters and incidents from the previous books feature crucially in the plot. Although The Fortune Keeper works as a standalone novel it would benefit a lot from a brief summary of the key points of the earlier books to guide any new readers.
So what does The Fortune Keeper offer? Firstly, a wonderful view of Renaissance Venice. I don’t know a lot about Venetian history but I found Swift’s Venice completely convincing. It’s rich but decadent. The palaces are already crumbling; the tides regularly flood houses and businesses. It’s a city where corruption runs deep. There are gamblers and whores everywhere (though Swift resists the temptation to titillate with sex). We are in the Renaissance, so Mia is able to go to lectures on astronomy. There are new and better telescopes, but they are as often used to produce more precise horoscopes than to research the heavens. Some people are pointing out that the earth moves round the sun but the Inquisition are busy and awful penalties await those who dismiss the Church’s cosmology too openly.
We follow Mia through marketplaces, into silk workshops, on visits to an old astrologer and on and off gondolas and the Venetian equivalent of buses, traghettos, larger vessels that run to timetables. Life is governed by those traghetto timetables and the state of the tides and, as Giulia and her family live in the Jewish ghetto, by the times that the ghetto gates are locked.
There’s a little about the Jews, tolerated because they were the city’s bankers but not really trusted. (Apparently the Venetians were 300 years ahead of the Nazis when it came to making Jews wear yellow badges on their coats.) We learn, too, about the guild system among gondoliers, but this isn’t an essay on Venetian society. It’s a thriller and a romance, starting slow but building up to a dramatic and bloody climax. And, like all the best thrillers, it has a wonderful villain. The man is a fraud, a swindler and a serial killer – but he does have style.
The climax is, perhaps, a little rushed. It’s a bit like those movies where people move in the shadows, shots ring out, the villain collapses and the hero stands over him as the credits roll. Personally, I prefer the Lee Child approach to violent denouements. I want the hero to feint with his left and lead with his right and only as he lies helpless (some blackguard probably hit him from behind) does he draw the pistol concealed in his boot and bring the villain down. Maybe that’s just me but I think that if you are doing the big fight scene, go all in or go home.
Since I wrote this, I’ve read Swift’s latest, The Silk Code, where the fight scenes match anything Lee Child has done, so I’ve no idea why this one didn’t work for me. It’s quite a minor quibble in any case. The important thing is that mysteries are solved. Some relationships are cleared up (no spoilers), others not. Life moves on. As do Mia and Guilia. It will be interesting to see where Ms Swift takes them next.
Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras
I can’t get completely free of Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras. It’s published on Friday and it’s already available on pre-order at mybook.to/TorresVedras. It’s the seventh book about James Burke. (I did a quick run-through of the others on my blog on Friday, if you need to keep up.) It’s set in Lisbon in 1810 where James Burke is hunting down French agents who are trying to discover the secret of the Lines of Torres Vedras. What are the Lines? And what is their secret?
Read the book to find out: £3.99 on Kindle and £7.99 (special launch offer price) in paperback.
Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras, the latest book in the James Burke series will be published on Kindle on 7 April and it is already available for pre-order. The paperback will be along soon. Somebody contacted me to ask how it fitted in with the others in the series. The answer is that it follows directly from Burke and the Pimpernel Affair. It starts with Burke back in London, suspended from active duty because of the leg injury he sustained in Paris. He’s soon back in the field though, returning to the Peninsula, though this time attached to the Portuguese army headquarters in Lisbon.
The beginning of all the Burke books now has a potted history of his career. It has grown a bit since I started doing it. Here’s the latest version (and, yes, his name really was Florence):
JAMES FLORENCE BURKE Born Ireland 1771 Enlisted Regiment of Dillon (France). Saw active service in Sainte Domingue. Surrendered to British in 1793. Detached for special duties at the War Office 1793/4: confidential duties in Ireland 1798: confidential duties in Egypt 1805: confidential duties in Argentina 1806: attached to British forces in Buenos Aires 1806: promoted to Captain 1807: confidential mission to the Spanish court 1808: promoted to Major 1808: diplomatic posting to Brazil 1809: diplomatic posting to Argentina 1809: attached to General Hill in Spain 1809: confidential work in France 1810: attached to General Beresford’s staff in Lisbon 1815: confidential work with Allied occupation forces in Paris 1815: attached to the Hussars of Croy. Saw action at Waterloo
The books dart around his career a bit. His service from 1805 to 1809 is covered in Burke in the Land of Silver, which also explains how his military career started in Sainte Domingue. Ireland is in Burke in Ireland (the fourth book published), Egypt in Burke and the Bedouin (#2 in the series) and his adventures in 1815 are Burke at Waterloo. The other three books, though, form a continuous narrative starting immediately after his return to England after his efforts in Argentina. He fights with General Hill in the Peninsular War before being sent to Paris to foil the plots of the ghastly Fouché. (Fouché was a real man and every bit as unpleasant as he is painted in the book.) Having survived Paris, he’s back in the Peninsula, hunting down spies in Lisbon.
Thanks to Bernard Cornwell’s efforts with Richard Sharpe, there is an apparently unending demand for stories set in the Peninsular War (Burke in the Peninsula is the most successful of the series) so I’m hoping that Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras will do well. The Lines (a string of forts that ran from the Atlantic to the River Tagus) are a fascinating bit of Peninsular War history and should satisfy military history junkies. (I’ve blogged here about the Lines recently.)
My books are, I’m told, shorter than many historical novels. Readers who like to lose themselves in a long historical story could buy Peninsula, Pimpernel and Torres Vedras and read them straight through, which should satisfy the most ardent enthusiast of the long read.
The Burke books are definitely a series and not a serial. Not only does each stand alone, but I enjoy playing with slightly different styles within the genre. So Burke in the Land of Silver is straightforward historical fiction, closely based on the adventures of the real James Burke. Burke and the Bedouin, although sticking to the historical facts of Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt, is a romantic romp, featuring a beautiful woman in need of rescue and midnight rides across the desert. Burke at Waterloo is part spy story (based around a real attempt on Wellington’s life) and part a classic war story with the climax on the field at Waterloo.
Burke in Ireland is far and away the darkest of the Burke books. It’s the story of his first mission for British military intelligence and go some way to explain his cynicism in the later adventures. I hadn’t intended to write such a gloomy novel, but the English behaved very badly in Ireland and the tone reflects the reality of what was essentially a military occupation.
Burke in the Peninsula is a fairly straightforward war story. It shows two sides of the war in Spain, with Burke fighting alongside the guerrillas while William Brown serves at the Battle of Talavera.
Burke and the Pimpernel Affair, by contrast, is escapist fun, loosely inspired by Baroness Orczy’s classic Pimpernel stories. Burke ducks and weaves through Paris, freeing prisoners from a French dungeon and dallying with the Empress Josephine herself in a story that turned out to contain much more historical fact than I intended. (The real James Burke did infiltrate Napoleon’s court, although not in 1809.)
And now we’re back in the Peninsula, hunting down spies in best James Bond style while also getting up close to one of the greatest feats of military engineering until the construction of the Maginot Line in the 20th century. (And, unlike the Maginot Line, the Lines of Torres Vedras kept the enemy out until the war was over.)
Seven books, all different in their way but all filled with a mix of historical fact and swashbuckling fun. Why not read them all?
I’ve just finished the latest of my books about James Burke. It’s been over a year since the last one but I produced the second Galbraith & Pole fantasy novel in between. (If you haven’t read Galbraith & Pole yet, do give them a try. They will make you see vampires in a whole new light – and they could have you looking carefully at some political figures as well.)
Anyway, Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras has been written and re-written and read over by lovely people who pick out what’s wrong with it and by now it’s almost ready for you. One of the last things to be done is the cover and now I can reveal it to you in all its glory.
The map shows the area north of Lisbon where the Lines of Torres Vedras were built. You can see a picture of the remains of one of the forts today down in the bottom right. I took it on a visit to the Lines the year before covid put a temporary end to such expeditions.
Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras is first and foremost a spy story. The Lines were built in great secrecy, quite a feat given the scale of the project. We know that the French had spies amongst the Portuguese and that some of them were identified and fled Lisbon. Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras gives the story of what might have happened.
Although most of the story takes place in Lisbon, we do not forget the Lines themselves. Fans of military history will find plenty for them as Burke visits some of the forts in the company of Colonel Fletcher — the man who realised Wellington’s grand plan and constructed one of the greatest defensive works until the Maginot Line of the 1930s. (And, unlike the Maginot Line, it worked.)
Burke and the Lines of Torres Vedras will be published early in April. Watch this space!
