Delightfully English.

An atheist doctor? A former priest with wavering faith? An exotic, isolated setting with whiskey-sodden British expats? Check all these. In “The Honorary Consul” the local characters are as vivid as the expat Brits, something not always the case with Greene. (Although, I think he did a good job in his African novels of not assuming to know what the African characters were thinking.) Two of the three Englishmen here aren’t really expats at all. Born in Paraguay to a British father and a local mother, Doctor Plarr is our atheist. Born in Argentina to British parents, Charlie Fortnam is the honorary British consul in a small town on the Paraná River in Northeast Argentina. The only other Brit in town is Doctor Humphries, a grumpy teacher of literature whose background we are not sure of, but he was probably born in England. I found it true even in the early 21st century that Anglo-Argentinians held fast to a 'colonial era' English accent and customs, like five o’clock gin and tonics, not maintained among British descendants in my part of the world. So the idea of a locally born Englishman not quite fitting in that Greene introduces rings true.

The setting seems to be based on Formosa (I've got that wrong it was Corrientes a bit further south), the capital of the oppressively hot Formosa province - a million miles away from the cosmopolitan capital Buenos Aires, where Doctor Plarr’s Paraguayan mother grows fat on dulce de leche. I don’t know how long Greene was in Argentina, the novel is dedicated to Victoria Ocampo, an Argentine writer he stayed with. He refers vaguely to the political troubles in Argentina in the early 70s, the period just before the return of Perón. (Quickly followed by his death, his wife taking over  and the subsequent military dictatorship.) Over the Paraná River, is Paraguay - under the control of the American-backed dictator, General Stroessner. In a mix up Charlie gets kidnapped by Paraguayan rebels hoping for an exchange of prisoners; the American Ambassador was the real target. The British government isn’t eager to get involved, Charlie is a sixty-year-old ‘honorary’ consul and alcoholic - worse still he has recently married Clara, a young prostitute - not a becoming image at all. He lives by growing maté and importing cars and then selling them on - flaunting the diplomatic rights he doesn't actually have.

The intellectual conversations at Clara’s (former) brothel between Plarr and local writer Doctor Saavedra are amusing - and Saavedra comes off as a joke, a man obsessed with machismo - until we see that he lives in poverty and Plarr gives him grudging respect for devoting his life to literature. Greene’s idea of Argentine machismo is accurate in its knife fights but also seems mixed up with the Mexican version which is more pervasive than the Argentine one.

The kidnappers are known to Plarr, who is involved because his British father is a political prisoner in Paraguay. Plarr lacks the faith and personal morality of the head kidnapper, his ex-classmate former priest Rivas, but is a doctor committed to the poor - he resembles Dr Colin the atheist doctor treating lepers in Greene’s “A Burnt Out Case”. In both novels, Greene seems to be debating with himself the merits of the man of faith and the practical man who tries to save lives rather than souls. The saving of souls is a much more tortuous business because it raises the possibility of personal damnation. The pace never drops off much in this book - it didn’t get bogged down in Catholic theology and moral debate (although there is certainly a sufficient amount of these). There is a fair deal of humour too. I was just in the right mood for this novel - so a subjective five stars.

F.E. Beyer is the author of Buenos Aires Triad

“Life isn’t like that. Life isn’t noble or dignified. Even Latin-American life. Nothing is ineluctable. Life has surprises. Life is absurd. Because it’s absurd, there is always hope.”

This story arises from the horrible seventies in South America. Dr. Eduardo Plarr, a Paraguayan exile? expat? refugee? is living in Argentina, having had to leave his English father in Asunción as a young boy, because of his father’s efforts to resist the reprehensible General Strossner - the vicious torturing dictator supported by the USA - who ruled Paraguay from 1954 to 1989 - with uninterrupted repression and cruelty.

A memory from Eduardo's childhood:
“...he listened to the noise of keys which were turned and bolts which were pushed to -his father was making the house secure, but he was afraid all the same. Perhaps someone had been locked in who should have been locked out.”

He finds himself in the Chaco - across the Parana river from Paraguay, firmly believing in his inability to believe in anything.
“I have reached a premature old age when I can no longer mock a man for his beliefs, however absurd. I can only envy them.”

He lives with dubious boundaries, balancing chauvinistic rationalization and self-loathing:

“On the stairs...he tried to remember what that question of hers had been which he had never answered. It could not have been very important. The only questions of importance were those which a man asked himself.”

Being questioned by police:
“I have to think of all the possibilities, doctor. Even a crime of passion is possible.”
“Passion?” the doctor smiled. “I am an Englishman.”
“Yes, it is unlikely - I know that.”

The characters are as only Greene could create - hilarious and heartbreaking, banal and so beautiful. Eduardo’s interactions with these folks, and his sardonic observations of them, are marvelous. Noting the poor furnishings of a fellow (not immediately terminal) Englishman:
“...not the kind of surroundings in which anyone with free will - if such a man existed - would have chosen to await death.”

Of the same man, who is cutting about a common acquaintance:
“... he recognized the malice which remained alive and kicking in the old man long after discretion had died from a lifetime’s neglect.”

Despite himself, Dr. Plarr gets involved in an action, a botched kidnapping, carried out by old compatriots of his from Paraguay, intended to free some political prisoners.

Unfortunately, because the accidentally kidnapped person, the Honorary Consul, isn’t important to anyone, a happy outcome is doubtful. Being “honorary” carries its own issues:
“I wish we had a simpler flag than the Union Jack. I hung it upside down once on the Queen’s birthday.”
Smile.

The kidnappers are full of courage, passion and righteous anger; their insights causing me to catch my breath:

“...malnutrition is much safer for the rich than starvation. Starvation makes a man desperate. Malnutrition makes him too tired to raise a fist. The Americans understand that well... Our people do not starve - they wilt.”

Another brilliant and memorable Graham Greene novel. He is simply unmatched in his explication of our hypocrisies, the governments we allow, and the stories we tell ourselves to live with our inaction in this savagely inequitable world.

I recently saw the film version of the great Graham Greene novel, The Honorary Consul, and thought I was add some thoughts to my rating. This novel is one of my favorite Greene novels because it has many of the elements that I admire in other masterpieces such as The Quiet American: men grappling with beliefs, a love triangle, a flawed but ultimate noble protagonist, an exotic location (Buenos Aires), political intrigue.

It’s a long time since I read any of Graham Greene’s work, the last being the glorious Travels with my Aunt which I read just before heading off on eight weeks of travel in Europe with my favourite aunt, and during which we encountered no smugglers, bandits, revolutionaries or political thugs, , though it was set partly in Latin America where Greene set The Honourary Consul and other works.

Greene was such a great storyteller that he was able to write a gripping narrative while dealing with great themes of political repression; the effects of isolation (physical, social and emotional); political disillusionment and corruption; the existence (or not) of god and the possibility (or not) of love.

He takes his time to set the scene and introduce his characters in their ‘torpid Argentinean city whose only visible cultural institution is the brothel’, and although there is in fact a great deal of action, he plays out the line of the story slowly, until the last 3 chapters when it seems as though inevitable execution of the mistakenly-kidnapped hostage is imminent.
Once the inevitable death has happened, the emotional tone shifts from fear and resignation to sorrow and tenderness. Masterfully set up, masterly resolved.
I can understand why it was on of Greene’s favourite works.

“A voice announced the station and the news bulletin, and news of Charley Fortnum took first place. A British Consul – the speaker left out the qualifying and diminishing adjective [honorary] – had been kidnapped. There was no mention of the American Ambassador…. The omission lent Charley a certain importance. It made him sound worth kidnapping.”

Set in northern Argentina in the early 1970s, a group of rebels mistakenly kidnaps Honorary British Consul Charley Fortnum, mistaking him for the American Ambassador. They demand the release of political prisoners in return for his safety, not realizing that he is not important enough to give them much leverage. Protagonist Eduardo Plarr is a local doctor whose father is English, and mother is Argentinian. He grew up in Paraguay and attended school with one of the kidnappers, ex-priest León Rivas. Plarr is having an affair with Fortnum’s wife, a former prostitute. He has not heard from his father, believed to be a political prisoner, in many years.

The kidnappers end up together in a hut with Charley and the doctor. The reader is drawn along to find out what happens to Charley. It does not look good for him. The British government officials do not appear to be very concerned and do not want to succumb to extortion. Though Plarr claims to not love or care for anyone, he takes extreme actions out of compassion.

“Doctor Plarr thought: the desperadoes! That is what the papers would call them. A failed poet, an excommunicated priest, a pious woman, a man who weeps. For heaven’s sake let this comedy end in comedy. None of us are suited to tragedy.”

Primary themes include love, justice, and faith. As in many of Greene’s books, there is much discussion of religion. The story is full of irony. Despite being full of rather unlikeable people, this novel inspires deep thinking and, possibly, even hope.

Graham Greene has two bonafide/genuine masterpieces in "The Quiet American" & "The End of the Affair," but by all rights "The Honorary Consul" takes a very honorary place alongside "The Power and the Glory"; that is, lesser giants. It too is about these incredibly Hollywoodesque (or legends of) important people making choices & suffering the inevitable... In perfect prose, in lucid detail and exquisite, meaningful dialogue, "Consul" is intriguing and exciting at all times. The characters are very much alive, and their roles all exude pathos at diverse (and therefore interesting) levels. Greene is a total pleasure to read. That said, it may be the weakest novel of his (I've read) by far. "Brighton Rock" was way more unexpected, the aforementioned classic masterpieces ("Quiet" and "Affair") are complete and utterly, (devastatingly!!!!) hugely beautiful. "Power and the Glory" seems more magnificent--not as asphyxiated with themes of Catholic Church-bashing as this novel is (esp. at its concluding pages). Alas, "Consul" offers the best of Greene, though not THE VERY best of Greene. But as consolation, you pretty much always know that you can't go wrong going Greene.

You know you are dealing with a brilliant writer when his 13th most popular novel blows you away. Like “Our Man in Havana,” “The Honorary Consul” focuses on two underwhelming expats in a Latin American country who are sucked into overwhelming situations. “Havana” is one of Green’s “Entertainments,” but I found just as many laugh out loud funny passages in “Honorary.”

At the same time, “Honorary” plumbs the depths of the human experience even more than “The End of the Affair.” What does it mean to love someone? How can we know God exists?

My favorite passage? The protagonist, Dr. Plarr observes, “I have reached a premature old age when I can no longer mock a man for his beliefs, however absurd. I can only envy them” (p. 260).

Green also forces us to confront moral ambiguity. I challenge you to tell me who are the “good guys” and the “bad guys” in this wonderful story. I am having trouble deciding what Greene to read next!

Τελευταία φορά που διάβασα βιβλίο του αγαπημένου Γκράχαμ Γκριν, ήταν τον Δεκέμβριο του 2015, οπότε, όπως είναι φυσικό, μου έλειψε πάρα μα πάρα πολύ. Αυτό είναι το ένατο βιβλίο του που διαβάζω και δηλώνω για ακόμα μια φορά εξαιρετικά ικανοποιημένος και αναγνωστικά χορτασμένος, τόσο από την πλοκή, όσο κυρίως από τη γραφή και τη γενικότερη ατμόσφαιρα.

Η όλη ιστορία διαδραματίζεται σε μια φανταστική επαρχιακή πόλη της Αργεντινής, κοντά στα σύνορα με την Παραγουάη, όπου μια μάλλον ερασιτεχνική επαναστατική ομάδα απαγάγει κατά λάθος έναν ασήμαντο Άγγλο επίτιμο πρόξενο, αντί του Αμερικανού πρεσβευτή. Όπως και να’χει, η εν λόγω επαναστατική ομάδα απαιτεί την άμεση απελευθέρωση δέκα πολιτικών κρατουμένων, ειδάλλως τα μέλη της θα εκτελέσουν τον επίτιμο πρόξενο, έναν ασήμαντο ανθρωπάκο εξήντα και βάλε ετών, που έχει παντρευτεί μια κοπελίτσα από οίκο ανοχής. Ένας Άγγλος γιατρός, που είναι και εραστής της κοπέλας, θα παίξει πολύ σημαντικό ρόλο στην όλη διαπραγμάτευση, αν και η λογική λέει ότι θα έπρεπε να μείνει αμέτοχος, όντας ουσιαστικά ερωτικός αντίζηλος του προξένου…

Πρόκειται για ένα πραγματικά εξαιρετικό μυθιστόρημα, κράμα πολιτικού θρίλερ και κοινωνικού δράματος με κάποιες υπαρξιακές αναζητήσεις, το οποίο αναδεικνύει και την έκρυθμη κατάσταση που επικρατούσε στις χώρες της Νότιας Αμερικής, κατά τη δεκαετία του ’70. Η γραφή του Γκριν είναι πανέμορφη και εξαιρετικά οξυδερκής, με φοβερές περιγραφές και διαλόγους γεμάτους νόημα, ενώ φυσικά ο κυνισμός του είναι έντονος σε πολλά σημεία. Επίσης, ο συγγραφέας αγγίζει θέματα όπως η πολιτική, ο Καθολικισμός και το τίμημα των επιλογών που κάνει ο καθένας, δίνοντας στον αναγνώστη λίγη τροφή για σκέψη. Για λεπτομέρειες δεν τσιμπάει πέμπτο αστεράκι.

Angst. Too much of it. Apparently angst bores me, whether it be Catholic angst, angst about being incapable of love, angst about being a failure or anything else this motley crew of idiots, incompetents, buffoons, alcoholics and pompous arses find to angst about.

Which is a shame, because when the plot is advancing it's a fairly good story, though the plot turns on an imbecilic decision by one of the protagonists. There's a good, taut, 150p novel struggling to escape all the angst but ultimately drowning in it.

One could believe this humorous novel, but in fact, not really. In a country in revolution, Doctor Plarr lives in a small dead town, looks after its patients all day long, and converses in the evening with his only English relations, Doctor Humphries and the honorary consul Charley Fortnum. Charley Fortnum is a grotesque and alcoholic character who is useless for his country and makes a living from what the English state gives him. One fine day, he was accidentally kidnapped instead of the ambassador. But who would want to release prisoners of war in exchange for the release of this unknown and useless little honorary consul?
The concept of the work is cynical and funny, but the story is rather sad. We see a doctor, Plarr, who struggles between his English and South American origins, lives a rather dreary life, and cares for more and more patients. Not believing in anything and unable to forge a real relationship with women. The honorary consul takes advantage of the system and stays alive thanks to his daily bottle. The revolutionaries are heading towards an impasse and continue their struggle, running out of steam. The embassy has nothing to do with these recriminations and attaches more importance to minor scandals (the honorary consul marries a 20-year-old prostitute.)
It's not pretty, but Graham Greene is on target when he highlights South America's miseries and revolutionary inconsistencies by kidnapping an absurd character.

Amongst the better works by Greene. A thriller set in Argentina with dash of theology and Greene's soothing/likeable narration makes this book a good read. Does not move you to tears and doesn't make you laugh out loud but does make you turn pages without giving in to cheap thrills as good books should.