The Constant Gardener, by John le Carré

Before my friend Michael, a fellow karaoke enthusiast, left New York (and in the days when one could still do karaoke), we had a tradition of honoring the deaths of beloved musicians by going out for karaoke and singing their songs. When we got the news of a death, we would convene for an "emergency" karaoke outing. In this way, we celebrated George Michael, Tom Petty, David Bowie, and some others that I'm surely forgetting. It was in the spirit of this tradition that I read The Constant Gardener this week.

I had started another book after finishing Love, but on hearing the news of John le Carré's death a week ago, I decided to stop everything and read something of his. Over the years, I'd read what I think of as the biggies: The Spy Who Came in from The Cold; Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy; and A Perfect Spy. Some years ago I heard or read an interview with le Carré in which he was asked which were his favorite of his own books and he included among them The Constant Gardener. This must be what prompted me to buy it used in a crappy mass market movie tie-in edition on some trip; I don't remember where. 

I had seen the movie in theaters when it was new, but it was so long ago I was pleased to find I only recalled the barest details of the story. In fact, for the first 100 pages or so I was so confused about how the story was centered that I stopped to look up the movie's cast to confirm what I thought I remembered: that Ralph Fiennes, who graced the cover of my book, played the widowed husband, a comparably minor character until the story starts to follow him on page 119. And this brings me to one of the brilliant things about the book: le Carré manages to give the reader an almost first-person intimacy with his characters, while writing in the third person. The narrative also deftly jumps through time, weaving memories and apparitions into present day. Another thing that surprised me in the book with my sparse recollection of the movie was that at the opening of the book, Tessa Quayle (Rachel Weisz) was already dead. It's strange to have a central character already dead, but the past features strongly in the book and at its core, this is a murder mystery. The end was perfect and heartbreaking, and I feel like the movie can't possibly have ended in the way the book did though I honestly don't remember. I was anticipating justice, and its absence caught me off guard: until I remembered every other John le Carré book I've read (particularly The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, which ends like a punch in the gut). 

So, even though I have a stack of books I've started but not finished, plus another book I need to read by Tuesday for my book club, I'm glad I set everything aside to read The Constant Gardener and to spend the week after his death with John le Carré.