Neither its plot nor its provenance do much to recommend Terry Hayes’s “I Am Pilgrim.” So it’s all the more surprising that this first novel by a screenwriter of films not renowned for their dialogue turns out to be the most exciting desert island read of the season.
Yes, the 600 or so action-packed pages are headed toward a showdown between a brave and ultra-brilliant American secret agent and an equally fearless jihadi terrorist. But neither is written as a stereotype; the two don’t meet until the end of the story; and this book has the whole globe to trot around before that. There are more than enough subplots and flashbacks to keep readers riveted. The American agent’s wild array of past exploits could fill a book of their own.
Despite Mr. Hayes’s long history as a movie guy (his credits include “Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior” and “Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome” ), “I Am Pilgrim” is not a film treatment bloated into book form. It’s a big, breathless tale of nonstop suspense, and it has something rarely found in big-budget movies of the same genre: the voice of a single writer instead of the patchwork nonsense created by endless collaborators and fixers. Mr. Hayes delivers his share of far-fetched moments, and no doubt he’d like to see “I Am Pilgrim” filmed some day. But he’s his own worst enemy in that regard. His novel will be hard for any movie version to beat.
The screenwriter in Mr. Hayes mandates that “I Am Pilgrim” begin with a big, lurid crime scene. So our narrator, who goes by many fake names, is summoned to a hotel room in Lower Manhattan in the aftermath of Sept. 11. There, in the midst of the chaos, is a once-hot-looking woman who has been killed in a way that erases all signs of her identity. It’s almost as if the killer had followed guidelines described in the secret but worshipfully regarded forensics manual our guy wrote, under the fake name Jude Garrett, for a secret subsidiary of the C.I.A.
With lightning speed, and with logic best not examined too closely, Mr. Hayes greatly widens his book’s canvas after this New York scene. We find out about how, our main man, now 32, spent his early years on an estate in Greenwich, Conn.; was faking his identity, even as a boy; and has earned his reputation as a lethal spy but fears that he must give up a “a thing most people call love, I suppose.” As he puts it, “I wanted to walk along a beach with someone and not think about how far a sniper can fire.” Maybe that’s possible in a sequel, but he won’t be taking any slow, romantic strolls this time.
Cut to Saudi Arabia, where the mind of a teenage terrorist is being formed. Allowing for the fact that few mainstream Western writers have much insight into such characters, Mr. Hayes does what he can to breathe life into the ideas of hatred and vengeance as life-altering motivations. (He has also written screenplays for Mel Gibson.) So this boy, who will come to be known as the Saracen, has his fate determined by his father’s. “Only in a police state does a child pray for nothing more serious than a crippling accident to have befallen their parent,” Mr. Hayes writes. Grammarians who howl at popular fiction like Dan Brown’s books can find a lot to work with here, too.
After Mr. Hayes writes, more movingly than gruesomely, of how the boy is affected by his father’s public beheading (his crime: disparaging the royal family), he raises the rage level: The family’s widowed mother must now get a job, which somehow entails exposing her face and wearing Gucci sunglasses. That’s it: The son goes into exile, determined to learn how to wage war against America. A couple of decades later, having roamed from Bahrain to Afghanistan to Germany, he is ready and able.
The Saracen becomes a doctor and, after experimenting shockingly on human guinea pigs, perfects a new, improved strain of plague that is vaccine-proof. On a parallel track, our guy — who will ultimately be known as Pilgrim (no clue as to whether this is meant to evoke John Wayne) — is recruited at the highest level (enter the president of the United States) to ward off a terrible but mysterious threat to the nation, a threat that turns the last part of the book into a race against the clock.
Mr. Hayes aligns his characters very ingeniously for this final part of the story, to the point where even that initial New York murder has something to do with it, and all the loose ends begin to come together. By this point, the Saracen and Pilgrim are a couple so clearly made for each other that the reader can hardly wait for them to meet. The setting, like all this book’s settings, is too picturesque for words. Mr. Hayes seems to have done backbreaking travel to some of the world’s most beautiful places in the name of research for his peripatetic story.
by Janet Maslin, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Sonny Figueroa
[ed. I don't usually read mysteries/thrillers (like... never), but really enjoying this one. Can't put it down.]
Yes, the 600 or so action-packed pages are headed toward a showdown between a brave and ultra-brilliant American secret agent and an equally fearless jihadi terrorist. But neither is written as a stereotype; the two don’t meet until the end of the story; and this book has the whole globe to trot around before that. There are more than enough subplots and flashbacks to keep readers riveted. The American agent’s wild array of past exploits could fill a book of their own.
Despite Mr. Hayes’s long history as a movie guy (his credits include “Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior” and “Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome” ), “I Am Pilgrim” is not a film treatment bloated into book form. It’s a big, breathless tale of nonstop suspense, and it has something rarely found in big-budget movies of the same genre: the voice of a single writer instead of the patchwork nonsense created by endless collaborators and fixers. Mr. Hayes delivers his share of far-fetched moments, and no doubt he’d like to see “I Am Pilgrim” filmed some day. But he’s his own worst enemy in that regard. His novel will be hard for any movie version to beat.The screenwriter in Mr. Hayes mandates that “I Am Pilgrim” begin with a big, lurid crime scene. So our narrator, who goes by many fake names, is summoned to a hotel room in Lower Manhattan in the aftermath of Sept. 11. There, in the midst of the chaos, is a once-hot-looking woman who has been killed in a way that erases all signs of her identity. It’s almost as if the killer had followed guidelines described in the secret but worshipfully regarded forensics manual our guy wrote, under the fake name Jude Garrett, for a secret subsidiary of the C.I.A.
With lightning speed, and with logic best not examined too closely, Mr. Hayes greatly widens his book’s canvas after this New York scene. We find out about how, our main man, now 32, spent his early years on an estate in Greenwich, Conn.; was faking his identity, even as a boy; and has earned his reputation as a lethal spy but fears that he must give up a “a thing most people call love, I suppose.” As he puts it, “I wanted to walk along a beach with someone and not think about how far a sniper can fire.” Maybe that’s possible in a sequel, but he won’t be taking any slow, romantic strolls this time.
Cut to Saudi Arabia, where the mind of a teenage terrorist is being formed. Allowing for the fact that few mainstream Western writers have much insight into such characters, Mr. Hayes does what he can to breathe life into the ideas of hatred and vengeance as life-altering motivations. (He has also written screenplays for Mel Gibson.) So this boy, who will come to be known as the Saracen, has his fate determined by his father’s. “Only in a police state does a child pray for nothing more serious than a crippling accident to have befallen their parent,” Mr. Hayes writes. Grammarians who howl at popular fiction like Dan Brown’s books can find a lot to work with here, too.
After Mr. Hayes writes, more movingly than gruesomely, of how the boy is affected by his father’s public beheading (his crime: disparaging the royal family), he raises the rage level: The family’s widowed mother must now get a job, which somehow entails exposing her face and wearing Gucci sunglasses. That’s it: The son goes into exile, determined to learn how to wage war against America. A couple of decades later, having roamed from Bahrain to Afghanistan to Germany, he is ready and able.
The Saracen becomes a doctor and, after experimenting shockingly on human guinea pigs, perfects a new, improved strain of plague that is vaccine-proof. On a parallel track, our guy — who will ultimately be known as Pilgrim (no clue as to whether this is meant to evoke John Wayne) — is recruited at the highest level (enter the president of the United States) to ward off a terrible but mysterious threat to the nation, a threat that turns the last part of the book into a race against the clock.
Mr. Hayes aligns his characters very ingeniously for this final part of the story, to the point where even that initial New York murder has something to do with it, and all the loose ends begin to come together. By this point, the Saracen and Pilgrim are a couple so clearly made for each other that the reader can hardly wait for them to meet. The setting, like all this book’s settings, is too picturesque for words. Mr. Hayes seems to have done backbreaking travel to some of the world’s most beautiful places in the name of research for his peripatetic story.
by Janet Maslin, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Sonny Figueroa
[ed. I don't usually read mysteries/thrillers (like... never), but really enjoying this one. Can't put it down.]
