Ashenden: Or the British Agent by William Somerset Maugham

 

Somerset Maugham worked in the British Secret Service during World War I. This series of stories about the British agent Ashenden are, therefore, to some extent autobiographical, though Maugham reminds us in his introduction that his experiences have been "rearranged for the purposes of fiction [because] fact is a poor storyteller."

Ashenden / Maugham is no James Bond (though one is certain Fleming read these stories). He is diffident, and is not always confident that he doing the right thing in the operations with which he is involved, or that the outcomes he achieves actually make the world a better place. He moves from country to country, but does not live a glamorous life, and it is unclear whether he possesses a gun or would know how to use one if he does. Don't, therefore, open this book in search of a thriller.

Rather, read it for the gentle humor and the astute observation of a gallery of human beings. Ashenden was recruited, after all, because he is a writer, and writers, his chief assumes, are astute observers of humanity. I am uncertain whether this is true of writers in general, but it is certainly true of Somerset Maugham.