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gmh711's review against another edition
3.0
"Are you a Communist, Ilya? In your heart?" "Oh yes. Aren't you?" "No. I just want to live my life, to be left alone." The world does not leave Khristo alone. The history of before and during World War II is intricately told through the travels and participation of Khristo. The book felt more like a volume of novellas loosely connected by Khristo. This was Furst's first in a series of historical spy novels set between 1933 and 1945. "Alan Furst's books are addictive - if you like one, you have to read them all." says Mark Horowitz in New York Magazine. I haven't decided yet.
sistermagpie's review against another edition
3.0
Great WWII-era spy novel. The type of story that sort of has a bird's-eye view where you have a sense of a world in chaos and the very different type people who find themselves lost in it. But the fact that I'm not totally taken with the characters is why I'm giving it 3 stars. It's the world that I remember.
darwin8u's review against another edition
4.0
One of those GREAT, sweeping spy epics. Furst stands right with le Carré (The Spy Who Came in From the Cold), Littell (the Company), and Mailer (Harlot's Ghost) in his ability to capture the ambiguity, color, temperature and texture of prewar Europe as well as the people and claustrophobia of War.
I'm glad I decided to crack this spy nut. While there are segments here and there I didn't think were fantastic, on the whole, the entire novel was worth the time and the effort. Spy fiction doesn't get much better than this.
I'm glad I decided to crack this spy nut. While there are segments here and there I didn't think were fantastic, on the whole, the entire novel was worth the time and the effort. Spy fiction doesn't get much better than this.
hcq's review against another edition
4.0
Very well done. I'd been hearing people talk about Furst for a while, and now I know why.
If this book were a movie, people would say, "Oh, they don't make them like that any more,"—and they'd mean it as a compliment. It does have a very cinematic feel to it, and not just because of the wartime period. The writing keeps it in the realm of the novel, though, as Furst takes the time to describe the feel of the sun in Spain, or the importance of a stray dog in Moscow, in a way that a movie can't.
I can also see why people compare Furst to Eric Ambler, and other such atmospheric thriller writers. That said, Furst seems more ambitious; he covers a wider swath of ground. The best part is knowing that he's written lots of books, and I have plenty more to read.
If this book were a movie, people would say, "Oh, they don't make them like that any more,"—and they'd mean it as a compliment. It does have a very cinematic feel to it, and not just because of the wartime period. The writing keeps it in the realm of the novel, though, as Furst takes the time to describe the feel of the sun in Spain, or the importance of a stray dog in Moscow, in a way that a movie can't.
I can also see why people compare Furst to Eric Ambler, and other such atmospheric thriller writers. That said, Furst seems more ambitious; he covers a wider swath of ground. The best part is knowing that he's written lots of books, and I have plenty more to read.
2wheeledconveyance's review against another edition
adventurous
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
bryonie's review against another edition
1.0
Been trying for a couple months to slog through this book, and today I'm officially raising the white flag. and calling uncle.
The book is slow as molasses. And what's even worse than that, NOTHING happens. It's just one boring encounter after another, with little in the middle to make any of it relevant to the characters or to show any character growth. The characters aren't really fighting for anything. They're spies for pete's sake, and THAT in and of itself should be exciting shit. But it's not. It's dry as cardboard in a desert.
The book is slow as molasses. And what's even worse than that, NOTHING happens. It's just one boring encounter after another, with little in the middle to make any of it relevant to the characters or to show any character growth. The characters aren't really fighting for anything. They're spies for pete's sake, and THAT in and of itself should be exciting shit. But it's not. It's dry as cardboard in a desert.
raehink's review against another edition
4.0
I love a good spy thriller, but I especially love an intelligent spy thriller. Night Soldiers fits the bill nicely, in the tradition of John LeCarre, Graham Greene and Eric Ambler. The story begins in Bulgaria, 1934, and centers around Khristo Stoianev, who watches helplessly as his brother is murdered by a gang of fascists. Khristo ends up being recruited into the NKVD (Soviet spy agency) and is eventually sent to Spain. The action includes wartime Spain, France, America, and the Slavic countries.
This book is full of depth and complicated plot lines and characters. At the same time, though, it is most readable and some of the scenes have just haunted me. The descriptions of Khristo's intense and meticulous training in Russia, was for me, a highlight of the book. Just plain fascinating. Furst makes history come alive and I loved how that history includes the common men and women of the day. The reader catches more than just a glimpse of what that great war did to Europe and its people.
Highly recommended for those who like a little meat in their historical thrillers.
Re the game of chess: He had learned the moves, back in Vidin, from Levitzky the tailor, who called it "the Russian game." Thus, the old man pointed out, the weak were sacrificed. The castles, fortresses, were obvious and basic; the bishops moved obliquely; the knights--an officer class--sought power in devious ways; the queen, second-on-command, was pure aggression; and the king, heart of it all, a helpless target, dependent totally on his forces for survival. (46)
He was held by a system based on the portcullis, a medieval security tactic no less effective for its age. A system of two gates. A visitor entered through the first gate--no questions asked. It locked behind him. He was now confronted by a second gate, held a virtual prisoner in a small space. Above his head, the walls were honeycombed with arrow slits and fighting ports. For the moment, only questions came from above. If the answers were found to be good, they opened the second gate. If the answers--or the stars, or the cast of the dice--were found to be not good, they did not open the second gate. After that, the disposition of the prisoner was more a matter of whim than tactics. The portcullis was a system based on the medieval assumption of evil in all men--again, a notion no less effective for its age--and the certain knowledge that any visitor carried your destruction in his hand, intentionally or not, a spy's gold or the Black Death. (56)
It was equally logical to run them through in batches, keep them in a group, for one always wanted to be sure where everyone was. In a country of two hundred million souls that covered eleven time zones, you could misplace the damnedest things: entire trains, whole battalions. Sometimes you never did find them. The country had a way of swallowing up what most normal persons would hold to be entirely indigestible objects, it drove some technicians quite literally mad. (59)
Re Bulgaria (or all Slavic territory after WWII): But I have seen the world, and whoever runs that country will want to start fresh--they won't have much use for people who have seen the world. It will be under the Russians, I think, and there won't be anything we can do about it. Our history is a sharp lesson on the subject of border. (351)
This book is full of depth and complicated plot lines and characters. At the same time, though, it is most readable and some of the scenes have just haunted me. The descriptions of Khristo's intense and meticulous training in Russia, was for me, a highlight of the book. Just plain fascinating. Furst makes history come alive and I loved how that history includes the common men and women of the day. The reader catches more than just a glimpse of what that great war did to Europe and its people.
Highly recommended for those who like a little meat in their historical thrillers.
Re the game of chess: He had learned the moves, back in Vidin, from Levitzky the tailor, who called it "the Russian game." Thus, the old man pointed out, the weak were sacrificed. The castles, fortresses, were obvious and basic; the bishops moved obliquely; the knights--an officer class--sought power in devious ways; the queen, second-on-command, was pure aggression; and the king, heart of it all, a helpless target, dependent totally on his forces for survival. (46)
He was held by a system based on the portcullis, a medieval security tactic no less effective for its age. A system of two gates. A visitor entered through the first gate--no questions asked. It locked behind him. He was now confronted by a second gate, held a virtual prisoner in a small space. Above his head, the walls were honeycombed with arrow slits and fighting ports. For the moment, only questions came from above. If the answers were found to be good, they opened the second gate. If the answers--or the stars, or the cast of the dice--were found to be not good, they did not open the second gate. After that, the disposition of the prisoner was more a matter of whim than tactics. The portcullis was a system based on the medieval assumption of evil in all men--again, a notion no less effective for its age--and the certain knowledge that any visitor carried your destruction in his hand, intentionally or not, a spy's gold or the Black Death. (56)
It was equally logical to run them through in batches, keep them in a group, for one always wanted to be sure where everyone was. In a country of two hundred million souls that covered eleven time zones, you could misplace the damnedest things: entire trains, whole battalions. Sometimes you never did find them. The country had a way of swallowing up what most normal persons would hold to be entirely indigestible objects, it drove some technicians quite literally mad. (59)
Re Bulgaria (or all Slavic territory after WWII): But I have seen the world, and whoever runs that country will want to start fresh--they won't have much use for people who have seen the world. It will be under the Russians, I think, and there won't be anything we can do about it. Our history is a sharp lesson on the subject of border. (351)
varunob's review against another edition
4.0
Alan Furst’s Night Soldiers takes its time to build up the setting and the protagonist. Too much time. So much, in fact, that when it finally gets going, one almost finds oneself wondering whether another slowdown is going to worm its way into the narrative. That, fortunately, does not happen.
Revolving around Bulgarian KGB agent Khristo Stoianev who goes on the run after realising that he is about to become a victim of one of Stalin’s famed purges during the Spanish Civil War, Night Soldiers take the reader from the comparative wilderness of Bulgaria to the ideologically-strict USSR, on to war-torn Spain and fantastical France. The theme, or what I managed to understand from the novel, seemed to be about confronting oneself, about life coming a full circle.
Different from most thrillers I’ve come across, the beauty of Night Soldiers lies in its languid approach to storytelling and though the novel seems more satisfied with base emotions, it is written beautifully, as if each word were chosen with nagging preciseness and with the objective of achieving perfect prose. In that department, Furst does a solid job, but he fails to rein himself in when it comes to editing and pruning.
For more reviews: https://varunbhakay.wordpress.com/category/bookshelf/
Revolving around Bulgarian KGB agent Khristo Stoianev who goes on the run after realising that he is about to become a victim of one of Stalin’s famed purges during the Spanish Civil War, Night Soldiers take the reader from the comparative wilderness of Bulgaria to the ideologically-strict USSR, on to war-torn Spain and fantastical France. The theme, or what I managed to understand from the novel, seemed to be about confronting oneself, about life coming a full circle.
Different from most thrillers I’ve come across, the beauty of Night Soldiers lies in its languid approach to storytelling and though the novel seems more satisfied with base emotions, it is written beautifully, as if each word were chosen with nagging preciseness and with the objective of achieving perfect prose. In that department, Furst does a solid job, but he fails to rein himself in when it comes to editing and pruning.
For more reviews: https://varunbhakay.wordpress.com/category/bookshelf/
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