BOOK - The Defection of A.J. Lewinter

The billing for Robert Littell’s 1973 novel, The Defection of A.J. Lewinter is somewhat prejudiced by the praise of Tom Clancy whom regards the author as the quintessential American spy-novelist. Aside from the fact that the book is set in the early 70s between the grimacing giants of the USA and USSR, Lewinter does not file in suit with the spy genre of Ian Fleming’s creation.
 
The story revolves around a rather unremarkable Augustus J. Lewinter, a ceramics specialist at M.I.T. who, like many academics of the era, is roped-in to work on missile nose cones for the Defence Department. One day, in Tokyo, Lewinter hops across to the Russian Embassy and defects. Lewinter’s defection has spies on both sides of the Iron Curtain trying to figure out his motivation and whether or not he’s a real defector with real information. From here-on-in Littell develops a captivating narrative on government ‘intelligence’ through its bureaucratic channels, the hypothesis of experts, the gamesmanship of egomaniacs and finally to a decision taken on what an American could only describe as a ‘punt’.
 
 
Criticisms levelled at the piece are a rather simple and justifiable diatribe against the inherent lack of thrills in the novel. However the thrill is in the mindset. Littell does brilliantly to conjure a feeling of the Cold War mentality that was totally absent from my upbringing as a child of the 90s. His style flows easily and uncovers a bureaucratic world filled with games that demonstrate the frivolity of power.  It’s a tried and true theme. However, the novel really pulls you in once it lands in Russia. Here, Lewinter is subject to the same amount of scrutiny as does his absence in the US but in ‘mother Russia’ it’s a little different. Littell indulges in creating characters that truly demonstrate the divide between the two nuclear powers when he introduces the reader to Zeitsev the chess champion, Pogodin the socialist/humanist as well as stories of the oppressed intelligentsia, a ballerina blacklisted because of her homosexual husband and other facets of Russian life.
 
Ultimately the novel develops as a clear directive never to be employed in the spy game (heads up to all ASIO aspirants) and in the final chapters really questions what ‘intelligence’ is good for. A quick book but a good one.
 

 

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