Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene

All very well, if you like vacuum cleaners. I don’t.

There was a Hoover salesman in Cuba who became a secret agent but then he drew some pictures of a nozzle and pretended it was a communist death star. His masters in Blightly liked the look of it and sent him loads of money for things that didn’t happen and for made-up agents who didn’t exist.

But then things did happen, except they weren’t real. But then they were. He was making it all up, but then he wasn’t.

I didn’t like this at all.

The author was obsessed with the infernal things. They make noises that they shouldn’t and they never pick up what they should.

I think that the writer was making fun of spies and that, but then it’s hard to say with so much suction-based evil tainting the novel.

Because of the Dyson-themed terror, I would give this novel one out of ten. I don’t know who Graham Greene is but I don’t think he’ll make it as a writer.

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