<The Spy Who Came in from the Cold> John Le Carre 존 르카레 추운 나라에서 돌아온 스파이 인상깊은 구절 독후감

드디어 스파이계의 거장 존르카레 소설을 읽었다...
정말... 초반에는 전혀 예상하지 못한 반전이 있다.
버석하고 또 현실적이며 냉소적인데 묘하게 따뜻한 소설. 기묘하다.. 그리고 냉전시대 스파이물의 정석!!! 정말 재미있게 읽었다.

“Espionage is not a cricket game,”

“Hurry, you fool.” Mundt had stepped forward and seized her wrist. “Hurry.” She let herself be drawn into the corridor. Bewildered, she watched Mundt quietly relock the door of her cell. Roughly he took her arm and forced her quickly along the first corridor, half running, half walking. She could hear the distant whirr of air conditioners; and now and then the sound of other footsteps from passages branching from their own. She noticed that Mundt hesitated, drew back even, when they came upon other corridors, would go ahead and confirm that no one was coming, then signal her forward. He seemed to assume that she would follow, that she knew the reason. It was almost as if he was treating her as an accomplice.
And suddenly he had stopped, was thrusting a key into the keyhole of a dingy metal door. She waited, panic-stricken. He pushed the door savagely outwards and the sweet, cold air of a winter’s evening blew against her face. He beckoned to her again, still with the same urgency, and she followed him down two steps on to a gravel path which led through a rough kitchen garden. They followed the path to an elaborate Gothic gateway which gave on to the road beyond. Parked in the gateway was a car. Standing beside it was Alec Leamas.

여기서 너무 놀람 대반전....

“What the hell are you complaining about,” Leamas demanded roughly. “Your Party’s always at war, isn’t it? Sacrificing the individual to the mass. That’s what it says. Socialist reality: fighting night and day—that relentless battle—that’s what they say, isn’t it? At least you’ve survived. I never heard that Communists preached the sanctity of human life—perhaps I’ve got it wrong,”

What do you think spies are: priests, saints, and martyrs? They’re a squalid procession of vain fools, traitors too, yes; pansies, sadists, and drunkards, people who play cowboys and Indians to brighten their rotten lives. Do you think they sit like monks in London balancing the rights and wrongs?