I know that Smiley was supposed to be the anti-Bond but his life seemed impossibly glamorous to me: melancholy, yes, but quietly hedonistic all the same. James’s, and drinking in private clubs with other old farts who felt they’d been passed over. I had no interest in working for the intelligence services in any capacity whatsoever, I just liked the idea of spending my days wandering about the West End in a crombie and a trilby, buying rare books and paintings from dealers in St. As a 17-year old who was looking for a way of being an adult, it seemed to me that the life of a 60-ish, semi-retired intelligence operative with a full pension and a house in Chelsea was the one for me. I hardly need add that Smiley was played by the great Alec Guinness: a suitably autumnal performance, allegedly based on le Carré’s former boss Maurice Oldfield (the story goes that Guinness met Oldfield for lunch at the author’s suggestion and borrowed his mannerisms wholesale). The 1979 broadcast of BBC TV’s adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was my own introduction to le Carre’s world. Alongside that Alan Partridge-like disclaimer, I should add that what follows contains spoilers: so read on at your peril. This is a brief and personal survey, based on the books featuring George Smiley to be more specific, on the books featuring Smiley that I have actually read to be more specific, as I am away from home and my books at present, on the film and TV adaptations of same that I can remember.

With the sad passing of the great John le Carré, I thought I’d take the opportunity to reflect upon the role booze plays in the lives of his characters. ‘Shall we start again with the bubbles?’ Smiley (Alec Guinness) not really enjoying his clubland lunch with Roddy Martindale (Nigel Stock) in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

Scalphunters john le carre