Books like Our Game — picked by fans

I read The Day of the Jackal when I was very young, then I saw the original film, and later I read the book again.

It fascinates me because of the precision with which it is written and because of two ideas that have been essential to my own career as a writer: how a terrorist group, by commissioning the assassination of De Gaulle, could have changed history with a single bullet had the attempt succeeded, and how politics becomes intertwined with violence and terrorism, showing that they are ultimately inseparable and that one cannot exist without the other.

I read I Am Pilgrim much later than the other great espionage thrillers, and it rekindled my taste for this kind of novel, which had a major influence on the writing of my book.

Hayes manages to maintain the tension on every page, making it almost impossible to put the book down without knowing what will happen next.

More importantly, he achieves something essential: the struggle between two individuals and their respective power structures becomes a reflection of what it really is—the silent, cold war that ordinary citizens endure without even realizing it exists, a war fought behind our backs and without our knowledge, leaving us adrift among the real forces shaping the world, like a small boat caught in a storm.

This is one of those books I love because you literally cannot put it down until you have reached the final page, and when you do, you are left with a lingering sense of sadness that the book is over.

I love it as a reader, and I admire it as a writer, because it shows how to handle an intense plot with a firm hand, page after page, without losing momentum and without giving the reader a moment to breathe—something I have also tried to achieve in my own books.

In addition, the plausibility of the plot, the dark places where the characters move, the politicians, and those other figures who are always kept hidden from us and who carry out the crimes of power, create an almost disturbingly realistic picture that we should not ignore, because it reveals the true face of power.

I read The Sum of All Fears many years ago, but what struck me most was the sense of helplessness ordinary citizens face when confronted with the catastrophes politics can create.

It is not simply about an individual act of evil, but about how the system itself can enable extreme violence that would be impossible without the terrifying power of states and the terrorist groups that grow around them.

That feeling of being at the mercy of politics, unable to do anything about it, is deeply disturbing. It reinforces the idea that no system, not even a well-established democracy, is truly in the hands of those who should own it—the citizens—but rather in the hands of elites with immense power.

This is a shorter book by a well-established historian, who nevertheless writes in an accessible manner for the general reader. It is a good introductory text to the Great Game and contains a good map of the region and several illustrations and photographs.

This is a medium-length book by another well-established historian, who writes in a reasonably accessible manner. His is a more in-depth treatment of the Great Game, aided by Geoffrey Wheeler, an expert on Central Asia, who wrote the book’s Epilogue. It contains three maps and appendices (but no illustrations).

I can not express how moved I was by this book. I have read extensively on Henry VIII but this book truly brought him to life. We see him not as the obese king with a fondness for the axeman, but as a smart, emotional, however somewhat egotistical, young king. We watch Henry age, fall in and out of love, and become an old man with many health problems. The characters in this book are so very real and George did a tremendous job bringing the court of Henry VIII alive for her readers.

With unmatched research and brilliant analytical thought, Nicholas Lambert upends long-accepted explanations of a military disaster—the Gallipoli Campaign—that not only rocked Britain in World War I but reverberates in international relations to this very day. His forensic examination of the British government’s symbiotic political, diplomatic, economic, and military decision-making should be required reading for all students of those disciplines. His approach dismantles accepted histories derived from the political assignment of blame and instead gives the reader an understanding of policy decisions tortured by a wide array of then-pertinent circumstances ranging from the price of a loaf of bread to the power of a Russian Tsar. We can hear the echoes of Lambert’s analysis in today’s cable news reports regarding globalization, disruption to wheat markets, and the political impact of inflation. A timeless work indeed. 

Another nonfiction and for me, the greatest book ever written on intelligence gathering. Unlike so many other books on espionage, it does not take place in the context of the Cold War but during the time of the struggle between Britain and Russia to control the passes of central Asia.

I loved how this book brought to life the stories of intelligence agents on both sides of the struggle, how they infiltrated hostile territories, won over warlords, and often lost their heads. The action took place before modern technology when agents relied on their powers of disguise, linguistic abilities, and their instinct to detect danger before it cost them their lives.

So much of what occurs in the great game explains the modern world today, which is why I believe this book is a must-read not only for those interested in espionage but international relations in general.

This group of interconnected stories—set mostly in Russia and Chechnya—take place before, during, and after the Cold War. In the opening story, “The Leopard,” Anthony Marra perfectly captures the suffocating terror of life under Stalin. 

The narrator is a disillusioned Soviet censor whose job is editing images of disgraced victims of Stalinist show trials out of official photographs and despoiling many other works of art for propaganda purposes.

Lines between work and life start to blur. The censor finds it increasingly hard to discern fact from fiction.

Things turn deadly when he himself becomes a victim and the truth (as he knows it) becomes irrelevant in the struggle against counter-revolutionaries.

From these troubled origins the Cold War began. The ability to discern truth from falsehood seems in our present times more pressing than ever.