I eagerly awaited the conclusion of Deighton's 10 book Sampson saga. While it is understandable that the titles of the last two books should have been predictable as soon as "Faith" was published, it is perhaps unfortunate that the rest of the story should have dragged out to such a foreseeable conclusion.

I hate to nitpick, but there are a number of details about this book that bother me: Rudi Kleindorf's completely unexplained return from the grave being foremost in my mind. Why was he "killed" earlier, only to reappear in this novel? Gloria's relationship with Brett Rensellaer serves only to give Bernard some reassurance that he didn't completely screw up her life. Lastly, the image of the DG, hiding in a back corridor of Frank's house, secretly listening in to Brett's meeting seems ridiculous.

I'm glad Deighton wrote "Charity", but perhaps his story has gone as far as it could be taken. I don't much relish Bernard dodging through the streets of Baghdad or shooting it out with the Cali Cartel, so maybe it is time (as another reviewer has suggested) to explore some of the exploits of Samson Senior.

I approached Len Deighton's final entry in the Bernard Samson series with some degree of sadness. In the 10+ years that I have been reading the books, my empathy with the character has become more and more pronounced.( As a measure of my devotion...my wife and I named our firstborn daughter Fiona...even though we did not like the character, we loved the name...) This particular novel was decidedly elegiac; Bernard muses on growing old, losing friends and family and trying to retain his hold on what is really valuable, all while he doggedly pursues many unsavory truths. While I was very disappointed with the resolution of the Bernard/Fiona/Gloria triangle- the marriage is clearly beyond help, and Gloria is MUCH more appealing than Fiona - I enjoyed the book quite a bit,mostly due to Deighton's masterful portrait of Bernard Samson as a tired, cynical, middle-aged seeker, tilting with windmills that all too often turn out to be monsters after all. Bravo, Len and Farewell Bernard. I'll even miss Dicky.

What now, Mr. Deighton? I for one have always been intrigued by the legendary Samson Senior...might we ever get a peek at his own career exploits...?

Bernard Samson is one of my favorite espionage characters. I was delighted by this excellent completion of the Faith, Hope and Charity trilogy.

The hard part about Deighton's trilogies is that they leave the reader hanging between books, dying for the next one. Charity does not resolve everything, but it certainly takes care of a lot of the dangling questions.

The plot complications invite paranoia. It seems like nothing is ever what it appears to be. The only constant is that Bernard continues to play the role of the unwitting dupe in others' ploys. Since he is a good and thoughtful person, that pulls us away from having sympathy for the spymasters who dream up the plans to go awry so often. It raises the rather nice question of how far the means can and should go to justify the end.

Will we ever have enough of the Cold War and its espionage? Perhaps not. If so, we are fortunate that Len Deighton has written this book.

If you have not read the earlier Bernard Samson novels, I strongly urge you to begin at the beginning with Winter. You'll have two advantages that way: You will appreciate the plot development better, having known of the prior complications; and you won't have to wait for the next book to come out. If you follow this advice, I envy you. You have a lot of fun reading ahead!

This terse, fast-moving cold-war spy yarn has to do with a pair of counterspies careening around the world (the Sahara, Washington, Paris, Florida) trying to coopt a Russian engineer in order to get at a Russian installation capable of intercepting satellite intelligence transmissions. The main characters are a CIA operative, Major Mann, and the story's narrator, a nameless British agent. The plot twists are entertaining enough, but as in all of this author's better books, the real fun is in overhearing the conversations and the wry observations that reveal the characters and situations in which the coolly competent protagonists operate. Much of the pleasure in a Deighton novel lies in coming upon the author's clever turns of phrase -- as in a scene where our two agents are in the posh Florida home of a communist agent grilling the wife regarding her knowledge of his activities. She tries to maintain a facade of innocent southern gentility, but as her story is being picked apart item by item, she fiddles with her purse, which our narrator observes is "made from a couple of yards of the Bayeaux tapestry."

I first read this book as a teenager in the 1960s, graduating from James Bond. After Fleming's action-based thrillers, Deighton was bound to come across as a little elliptical, and my response then was a mixture of bafflement and admiration. I had to read the three subsequent books in the series before I realized that it's a waste of time looking for logical plots in Deighton's work. Perfect plotters are authors who are never diverted by inconsequential things. But Deighton's writing is fuelled by the inconsequential and the peculiar.

George Orwell once noted that Dickens's books are always packed with purposeless detail. Cheeses can't be just "cheeses": they have to be "Gloucester cheeses". His fictional world is very particular, very specific. In the same way, when you get to know Deighton, you are not surprised when his hero stops off at a delicatessen to buy a pound of - no, not just "butter", but "Normandy butter" - and when it goes soft in his pocket before he makes it home, we realize that this hero is a million miles from James Bond.

Departing from the usual profile, Deighton's novels are character-based rather than action-based, and that's both a strength and a weakness. There are any number of slick, factory-produced thrillers around, but a Len Deighton thriller is a hand-made product. The edges are not quite straight, it wobbles when you try to stand it upright, and the doors don't quite fit.

Those who look for a perfect solution to a clearly-stated puzzle should look elsewhere. What we get from Len Deighton is the kind of character-drawing that is traditionally the weakest element in popular thrillers. His descriptions are always arresting and invariably witty. Colonel Ross is described as having "the complexion of a Hovis loaf", and those who have seen a Hovis loaf will recognize the aptness of the image: that of a florid military type who is a little too fond of the bottle. He is also described as a gentleman - which Deighton defines as someone who never drinks gin before 7.30 p.m. and wouldn't hit a lady without first taking his hat off.

If you like that sort of thing, you'll like Len Deighton. He is the Charles Dickens of thriller writers, with the same faults and the same virtues. And The Ipcress File is replete with both. Deighton's shaky and approximate plotting is more than offset by his observant eye for the endless varieties of human strangeness.

Just one thing, though. Deighton is someone who doesn't just write, he re-writes. The care with which he crafts his prose is somehow evident on the page in the look of the sentences and paragraphs. He is a writer, and you should be a reader. So, my advice: forget the cassette. Go for the book.

I couldn't disagree more with the review here that states that this is a terrible book. Len Deighton is quite rightly considered one of the masters of the espionage novel. This is the first of his first series of books, which also included 'Funeral in Berlin', 'Billion Dollar Brain', 'Horse Under Water', and 'An Expensive Place to Die'. Deighton's mastery of dialogue is apparent, along with his ability to make the reader feel a part of the story and era. Deighton's research into contemporary Cold War espionage practices and bureaucracy is superb, as in all his books. Very believable, crisp, and gripping. Highly recommended (if you can find a copy!

Another dissent from the "1" rating below; Len Deighton's first four books (this one, Funeral in Berlin, The Billion Dollar Brain, An Expensive Place to Die) are all very enjoyable. It's true that Deighton appears to draw about equally from Raymond Chandler and Graham Greene, but those are great places to steal from. (Unfortunately, I think Deighton went steeply downhill after these books.)

I was flattened by Deighton's "Bomber" and was so excited to read one of his about fighter pilots. I was disappointed by this book, maybe my expectaions were too high. More of a historical romance really, read: Harliquin with more research. The detail of the Mustangs was bullet-proof when Deighton gets around to it but there just wasn't enough action in the novel. Slow-paced and torturous to finish in the end, the climax losses it's shock because by that time you just don't care who survives. There is almost too much depth in the characters in that it becomes a real bore. If you like stories about wartime life not involving a lot of combat then this would be a great book, but it wasn't for me.

I'd enjoyed Len Deighton's books before: I read "Bomber" as a teenager and was deeply impressed. I'd also read his fiendishly involved spy stories ("Only When I Laugh, The Ipcress File"), so I was favourably disposed to this one, a WWII story about a couple of American pilots in 1944 UK, and their lives and loves, and deaths. I enjoyed the story - as others have observed, the technical detail about fighter planes is incredible; it gives authority and power to the writing, without swamping the reader. Not only planes, but other details of American and British lives in 1944 southern England. Just as vital to the plot is the relationship between Colonel Bohnen and his estranged son, Jamie Fairbrother, a pilot. I found the male characters deeper, more carefully drawn and more interesting than the women, but that may be a failing in all Deighton's books. One of the most interesting scenes for me was when the fathers of the 2 lovers meet: Victoria Cooper's father is a psychologist, and makes these observations on parenthood: "After fifteen years or more of caring for a child, parents find it difficult to relinquish their role. There's a temptation to cripple the child and thus keep the child dependent...All parents are tempted to destroy their own children, Bohnen. It's a fact of life."

The dogfight scenes are riveting and highly satisfying, with Deighton wandering into the pilots' feelings and thoughts as they fly and fight. Little political comment, though, or overview of the war, despite Colonel Bohnen's high-up position.

The ending was a shock, but I felt it did little to add to the story - it was a gimmick. And the dialogue is pretty flat. But a satisfying read overall, so 3 stars.

Len Deighton is one of the great writers of aviation fiction and nonfiction. He spends a great deal of time researching his stories and it shows in the final product. His novel 'Goodbye Mickey Mouse' is not a great book, but it is a good book. Deighton, in writing the book, seems to have been as interested in portraying the love lives of American aviators in England as he was in depicting the air war over Europe from the point of view of P-51 Mustang pilots. The result is a somewhat trite love story--brash American fighter pilot tamed by straightlaced English lass. The other love story in the book is a bit more interesting because it is more original. The title character, Mickey Morse, falls for an older married English woman, and this threatens his dream of becoming a celebrated fighter ace. There are some good plot twists in the book, and most of the characters are interesting, but the best segments of the book are when Deighton focuses on the flying and the military politics. This is where he shines as an author. The romance element is no better-or worse-than what you find in any book on a newstand rack and read to pass time on a plane or on a trip. The most intriguing character is the main character, Mickey Morse (known as Mickey Mouse), who grew up at a gas station in Arizona and is trying to improve his chances in life by becoming a famous fighter ace. He hopes to get a job working in the air industry after the war. However, he is blinded by love for the older married woman, with serious repurcussions. His friend, Jamie Farebrother, is the privileged son of a business tycoon who has become a general to help run the war effort. His father, who is estranged from the son but trying desperately to develop a relationship, is also an interesting character. The British characters are less well-drawn, which is rather surprising because Deighton is British. They tend towards cardboard cutouts and stereotypes. Even Jamie Farebrother's love interest Victoria is lacking in depth. That having been said, "Goodbye Mickey Mouse" is one of the best books I've read for getting a feeling for what life was like on a fighter base during the war. As a historian researching the American air war over Europe, specifically the 8th Air Force, the book provided me with some valuable insights. To be fair, I am not a big fan of romances and that element of the book didn't appeal to me; however, I think most people might enjoy the way Deighton develops the romances in the novel, and the way he weaves them together. Some of the plot twists are a bit improbable, but hey, this is fiction, where the author, especially if he is established, can get away with that kind of thing. Overall, an entertaining book, well researched, but lacking in depth of characterization as well as probability.