Frayn, Michael - Spies
4:23pm Friday 4th January 2008
SPIES is an A-level set text, and thus a book I have had to read a number of times. And the more you read this book, the more you resent the fact that Michael Frayn's publishers ever asked him to write it.
The novel is set in the present day and in London during World War II. It is centred around the characters of old Stephen (present) and young Stephen (past) and describes old Stephen going back to where he lived as a child during the war to clear up some unresolved issues about his past.
When he is there, he reminisces about the games he played with his childhood friend Keith, in particular one called Spies. Slowly he remembers what happened, and the effects that their game had on those they loved.
One of the most annoying things about this book is that it could have been so much better. There are great moments, however, these are undone by moments that make you want to hurl the book on the fire and let it serve a practical use in this world.
One example of this flaw would be the narrator of young Stephen. On the one hand, his portrayal of puberty is perfection, capturing the confusion, anger and despair brilliantly. But on the other he talks about the game that he and Keith play with such a frustrating sense of pomposity and self-importance.
The main problem with the novel is the plot. A rather large flaw I know, but it is without doubt the feature that lets the book down. Within the book, there are so many different sub-plots: forbidden love, the process of puberty; suspicion of outsiders; the effect of the War on families and the community; the process of self-discovery.
But instead of focusing on one of these plotlines which are all oozing creative possibilty, Frayn focuses on two boys playing a game in a bush. The way he explores the effects the game has on people through the naïve eyes of young Stephen is outstandingly well written, but throughout these moments Stephen keeps going back to his belief that this is merely a game, and blurts out ludicrous lines plucked straight from an enrollment poster.
Words simply cannot describe how infuriating it is and it is a shame, because in allowing the narrator of young Stephen to be so unreliable, Frayn undermines all the literary sublimity in the novel.