Five Best
These spy tales are unsurpassed, says novelist Alan Furst


1 Our Man in Havana

By Graham Greene
Viking, 1958

Graham Greene’s work must be included in any survey of top-rank spy
novels, and “Our Man in Havana” may be his best. The problem here is
Hollywood: Just as you can’t read Greene’s “The Third Man” without
thinking of Orson Welles, “Our Man in Havana” instantly brings to mind
Alec Guinness, followed closely by the sublime Ernie Kovacs. But the
book itself is a marvel, making fun of the espionage business while
still remaining a spy novel. It brings ample suspense and expertly
wrought ambience to its tale of a British vacuum-cleaner salesman in
Cuba who reluctantly agrees to become an MI6 agent. He begins filing
fanciful reports—including sketches of a secret military installation
based on a vacuum-cleaner design—that the home office takes all too
seriously. “Our Man in Havana” is a honey of a beach read, best served
with rum and Coke.

2 The Miernik Dossier

By Charles McCarry
Saturday Review Press, 1973

With “The Miernik Dossier,” Charles McCarry introduced us to Paul
Christopher, the brilliant and sensitive CIA officer who would appear in
a series of perhaps more widely known novels, such as “The Secret
Lovers” and “Second Sight.” The book itself is the “dossier” in
question: the reports and memoranda filed by a quintet of mutually
mistrustful espionage agents, including a seductive Hungarian princess
and a seemingly hapless Polish scientist, who undertake to drive from
Switzerland to the Sudan in a Cadillac. It is a travelogue that bristles
with suspicion and deception—but don’t listen to me, listen to a
certain highly acclaimed spy novelist who reviewed McCarry’s literary
debut: “The level of reality it achieves is high indeed; it is superbly
constructed, wholly convincing, and displays insights that are
distinctly refreshing. A new and very welcome talent.” Good call, Eric
Ambler.

3 The Levanter

By Eric Ambler
Atheneum, 1972

Dedicated readers of the spy-fiction genre will surely have read Eric
Ambler’s “A Coffin for Dimitrios,” but “The Levanter”—written more
than 30 years later—also qualifies as a classic. Set in Syria in 1970,
the novel tells the story of Michael Howell, a Middle Eastern
businessman of complex ethnic descent. Howell, who is trying to get his
money out of the region during the shaky aftermath of the Six Day War,
discovers that a factory he owns in Damascus has been turned into a
bomb-making facility by the Palestine Action Force, which vows to
destroy Israel. “The Levanter” features some of the strongest action
scenes to be found in Ambler—who can, in some of his fiction, stay in
one place for a whole novel. But not here, not here.

4 The Honourable Schoolboy

By John le Carré
Knopf, 1977

This is, on certain days, my favorite le Carré—a novel that is the
embodiment of its epigraph from W.H. Auden, namely: “Those to whom evil
is done / Do evil in return.” That would serve well for le Carré’s
entire oeuvre. The prose in “The Honourable Schoolboy” shows this
highly literate novelist at his best—which, I suspect, has to do with
the heartfelt nature of the book, set in Hong Kong and London in 1974,
with the grinding end of the Vietnam War as its backdrop. Another plus:
The whole le Carré gang is here; the ever-endearing George Smiley,
“young Peter Guillam,” and the relentless researcher and scourge of
Russian Cold War spooks, Connie Sachs. Joined by the journalist and
part-time spy Jerry Westerby—as ironic and cynical as you’d wish—they
leap into action after detecting hints that the elusive Soviet agent
Karla is moving money through Hong Kong. Fast-paced from start to
finish, “The Honourable Schoolboy” is fired by le Carré’s conviction
regarding evil done and its consequences.

5 Moura

By Nina Berberova
New York Review Books, 2005

“Moura” is not a spy novel, I confess, but it was written by the
Russian novelist and short-story writer Nina Berberova, and the
book—subtitled “The Dangerous Life of the Baroness Budberg”—affords
all the pleasures of first-rate fiction. The mysterious baroness, known
as Moura, was likely a Soviet spy and possibly a double agent, as
Berberova shows in this intricate biography, one that is also a
meditation on Bolsheviks, penniless Baltic nobility and the attractions
of the femme fatale. (Moura’s lovers included Maxim Gorky, H.G. Wells
and the British spy Robert Lockhart.) Berberova (1901-93), who knew
Moura when they both lived in Gorky’s chaotic household in the 1920s,
was an émigré in occupied Paris during World War II, then moved to the
U.S., where she taught at Princeton. Though “Moura” was published in
Russian in 1981, it didn’t appear in English until four years ago, with
Marian Schwartz and Richard D. Sylvester’s translation. As many readers
discovered then, Berberova is a splendid writer who deserves to be
better known.

Mr. Furst’s novels include “The Polish Officer” (1995) and “Dark
Voyage” (2004). “The Spies of Warsaw” (2008) has just been published
in paperback.