I did not just have high expectations of this book. Given my experience with the author, I felt that it was inevitable that it would be a good read. I was not disappointed. The story is not, in itself, very complex, but it is made up of many minuscule details and quite a large cast of characters. The author managed the story by telling it solely from the viewpoint of one character, Georges Picquart. Although I am unsure whether I like him, I felt that I knew him quite well by the end of the first 100 pages. This is the point at which the story starts to get going properly. By the time I reached the last 100 pages I was not sure whether I just wanted to read it all in one go, and find out how the story ended, or string out the pleasure a bit longer.
I do not know how much of the story is pure fiction, even though I do know that it is at least broadly based on facts. My confidence in the author’s integrity makes me feel that I know a lot more about the France of 100+ years ago and a bit more about how politics in general operates.
I really enjoyed some of the little details, like the slang French word for prostitute is “horizontale”. A lot of the writing is delightful, for example: "For the first time in my life I carry hatred inside me. It is an almost physical thing, like a concealed knife. Sometimes, when I am alone, I like to take it out and run my thumb along its cold, sharp blade."
I am glad that there are still quite a few Robert Harris books for me to read in the future.
