LITMIR.BIZ

       Introduction

      The Game, Set and Match trilogy made a continuous story. To underline this construction Berlin Game started with Bernard and his friend Werner sitting in a car at Checkpoint Charlie. The third book, London Match, ended with the two men sitting in a car, talking about that previous occasion. But I didn’t want to continue the books, writing another story and then another. I didn’t want to produce a series of books; I wanted a sequence of different books about the same people. I wanted each book to be important and complete and as good as I could make it. To do this I decided I must break away after that first trilogy. No matter that I had drawn up a big master plan; a chart to guide me and a card index for the characters, I wanted to go away and live (with my family) in a different environment so that I could sit back and think and look afresh at the nine-book project.

      I found my new environment but I did not sit idle. I drafted a completely different book that would take a lot of time and energy. I decided that I must complete it before I started writing the second trilogy. A prequel seemed a valuable addition and almost a necessity. There were so many things I wanted to say about the characters that surround Bernard, especially the elderly ones. My story would have to cover a long period. While Bomber – the only big book I had written – was a story lasting just 24 hours; the action in the new book would take half a century. I decided to call it Winter.

      Much of Winter was already in my mind as noted extensions from the existing characters. If the story was about the twentieth century it must start on the final evening of 1899. A great deal of research was needed as well as planning. When I say research I am not talking about leafing through printed material, although that too is essential. Research is primarily travelling and seeking out and talking to first-rate sources. Bomber had been a complex construction; I kept strictly to the chronology of the bombing mission (but mixed the various action sequences by moving from place to place and from aircraft to aircraft). Winter would also be a chronological story but it had to conform to the chart and my overall plan – and all the biographical characterizations – for nine Samson books (three of them already published).

      Writing Winter was a formidable task. As soon as it was complete it was time to start writing the second trilogy, starting with this one: Hook. Characters from Winter emerge. Bernard is three years older than he had been at the end of Match. We see his slight but steady deterioration. The changing environments, and different people he finds there, bring emphasis to Bernard’s obsessional behaviour.

      On the other hand, his relationship with Gloria has become more intense and more domestic. And Bernard – a loner and introvert because of the nature of his work – really yearns for a settled and stable home life. Gloria knows this but her feminine wisdom cautions her about voicing this in ways that might make Bernard feel trapped. Gloria does not try to replace the serious, accomplished intellectual that is Bernard’s absent wife: Fiona. Gloria personifies the happy recklessness of youth that Bernard has lost. And Gloria completely understands Bernard’s yearnings for stability, because she too feels she belongs nowhere.

      ‘Living like a king in France’ is a common German description of ultimate luxury. In proof of their sincerity the Germans have invaded and occupied their neighbour in 1870, 1914 and again in 1940. When Bernard Samson goes searching for Lisl Hennig’s sister the war is long past and she is living in comfort in Provence. But Bernard gets far more than he bargained for.

      The story begins with a conversation and poses a question which takes over his life. It is not in line with his work or his orders but that only inflames his curiosity. As the story progresses we share Bernard’s anxieties and almost share his obsessions. Is Fiona involved in a massive financial swindle? It becomes essential for Bernard to believe his wife is not only a defector but personally dishonest and disloyal and a thief too. Only by proving this to his masters and to himself will Bernard be able to shed, or at least soften, the deep feelings of guilt he has about being in love with the much younger, and sometimes childlike Gloria. It is the depth of his love for Gloria that makes his quest so important to him. This is not a casual affair; Bernard is not a bed-jumper. He is a man who keeps his emotions tightly under control, which is why he is so good at his work. And Bernard has voiced his contempt for men such as Stinnes and women such as Zena. Bernard is a prude or maybe a romantic, as Gloria delights in telling him he is.

      There is no escape from the deft twists and turns in which both friends and enemies deflect his requests, deny his conclusions and refuse to help him. Is he unreasonable? Sometimes. Is he unbalanced? Maybe. Is he the sort of man we can rely on, and is he everything good a man can hope to be? Yes, he is. Or at least I think so.

      Len Deighton, 2010