B.W.
Leavitt How to Train a Spy has come
at the right time when the audience is tired of action sequences, over the top
gadgets and invincible secret agents. The audiences of today are demanding
something authentic, a fiction that has its basis in the truths and
difficulties of contemporary intelligence operations, the way of doing things
and the emotional realities of the work. Leavitt does precisely that, with
detailed precision and captivating storytelling.
Instead of
focusing the story on a life-long operative or a high-level agent, the novel
presents the reader with a new character of Brian Lewis, a correctional officer
who finds himself in the secret world of intelligence. His espionage career
does not come easy, but it is a disorienting, fearful and personal thing. This
style is an indication to the readers at the first page that this story is not
going to be of the same model as the genre. Rather, it demonstrates how an
average individual can be changed into an efficient agent by means of training,
self-sacrifice, and bravery.
Its
devotion to verisimilitude is also strengthened with the training sequences in How to Train a Spy. Brian also goes
through an intensive, multi-level training involving weapon handling,
surveillance tactics, psychological conditioning, covert communications, escape
procedures, and the multifaceted control of undercover identities. These scenes
are not represented as thrilling montages or automatic proficiency advances.
They are intentional, demanding and entirely based on the actual intelligence
procedures. The learning of the Farsi language in a few days and the mini-sub
escape training done by Brian are presented with accuracy to remind the
audience that espionage is an art- not a game of chance or movies.
A very
interesting new thing developed in the novel is the theme of the covert
traveling and masquerading. The trip of Brian to Russia and later Iran is full
of meticulously planned seat assignments, encrypted messages, red herrings, and
hidden messages in ordinary parts of the world. These measures indicate the
real aspect of the work of espionage, that intelligence work relies on
subtleties, planning and being always alert.
The very
mission, the infiltration of a black site by Brian under the control of
Russians in Iran, makes the novel even more realistic. Instead of using
mystical feats or excessive confrontations, the story is presented with a
strategy, surveillance, and risk taking. Brian collects the intelligence
required to reveal an unfolding electromagnetic weapon when he goes through the
facility with care, keeping the perfect Russian persona, and with the help of
his assigned wife Jasmine, an Iranian agent. Their collaboration is the essence
of the covert job: not confident, stressed, and rooted in trust that is
developed through incredible circumstances.
The real
difference that How to Train a Spy
makes compared to other spy films of its genre is the focus on the emotional
and psychological experience of being a spy. The fact that Brian loves his
family, has an internal conflict, and is under the strain of secrecy gives the
book added depth which is usually lacking in traditional spy fiction. The faked
death, the emotional heart-to-heartbreak escape, and the traumatizing
unpredictability of his return to the United States reveal an emotional realism
that is hardly ever witnessed in the genre. Readers are also reminded that
actual undercover operations have long-term implications, and the highest cost
of spying is usually paid in-house.
B.W. Leavitt provides a thought-provoking, intriguing, and compelling variation of the espionage fiction in How to Train a Spy. Fusing real intelligence facts with the vulnerability of a human person, he establishes a new norm in the genre one that strives to appeal to the contemporary reader as an exciting story, which is also a true one. It is more than a spy novel, it is a wonderful redefinition of the spy fiction genre.
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