Thoughts at the halfway point of The Man Who Knew Everything

One of the problems with this book is that it reminds you of some many others. You think of Our man in Havana, The Quiet American by Greene and it also sparks off other memories of films. But putting that familiarity to one side the story does slowly start to creep up on you.

Trying to identify with an aged hack who has based himself on a small Arab nation is not something that comes naturally but underneath the old exterior the desire to get the story out still seems to be there.

In many ways it is describing a lost world of foreign correspondents, Fleet Street and newspapers of the old school. Waiting to see how the second half develops.

Review soon…