I was flipping through a book distributor’s catalog a while back and ran across a book with the tantalizing subtitle “a cold war novel.” As I said in my review of the original Mission Impossible series, I’ve been fascinated with that time period lately. I’ve read a few nonfiction books on Soviet espionage and infiltration over the past couple of years, so I’m now branching out into fiction set in that era, which isn’t super prevalent, and my first foray didn’t disappoint.
I don’t read a lot of historical fiction since I read mostly books that are old themselves. Old books still give a sense of historical atmosphere to modern readers, but it often feels more natural than a historical fiction book that the author specifically researched for. I’ve started some less than stellar books where the author just drops historical info into the story in a way that doesn’t feel smooth or natural. Occasionally, these details even start to feel stereotypical. For example, one book I started was set in the 20s and the author constantly reminded the reader that the main character did not have a bob hairstyle like all the other young women. Not only was this redundant, but it wasn’t that historically accurate. Not every young woman in the 20s was a flapper!
I’m digressing. The point of this post is to discuss a book I loved, not gripe about one I didn’t. Suffice it to say, historical fiction can be hit or miss for me. Even historical fiction that might be wonderfully executed tends to focus on eras I don’t have a particular interest in.
WWII is probably the leading era for historical fiction. While I do like a lot of 40s fashion and music, WWII has never been a historical era that interests me more than any other. The other leading historical eras for fiction appear to be the Victorian and Regency eras of the 1800s. I enjoy Sherlock Holmes and the bit of Dickens I’ve read, but I’m not a Victorian buff overall. Regency fiction is usually Jane Austen-inspired, and I’m just not a huge fan of her. (Katherine Reay has written some Regency books, and since I’ve enjoyed her writing in this book, I might have to give one a try.) As soon as I saw that “cold war novel” subtitle, I knew I’d found something I hadn’t known I was looking for. I had to get my hands on a copy of A Shadow in Moscow as soon as possible. My local library had a copy, so I snagged it. I was immediately drawn into the book, so I bought my own copy from Barnes and Noble. Partly because I love owning the books I love and partly because Katherine Reay’s writing had features I’d like to apply to a historical fiction story I plan to write one day, and I wanted her book on hand for reference.
The Review
A Shadow in Moscow is told from the point of view of two main characters in two different time periods, a popular technique in historical fiction. Sometimes, this makes books a bit choppy as they switch back and forth between stories that may feel unrelated. However, Reay does an excellent job weaving the stories together. Not only do Ingrid and Anya’s lives become more and more intermixed as the plot progresses, but there are smaller details used to tie the different points of view together. To harken back to my Mission Impossible post once more, Reay’s scene transitions are at times like those I admired in the show. An image, action, or word is repeated in both points of view, adding cohesion even when the stories don’t directly connect. The historical fiction idea I have percolating in the back of my mind will require multiple plot threads and eras, so this is a technique I’ll be trying my hand at.
Enough about writing techniques for the time being. My review won’t be much good to anyone if it only talks about how the book is written and never what the book is about.
A Shadow in Moscow follows two women who become spies working against the Soviet Union. One is Anya, a recently graduated exchange student in the 1980s who finds the freedom—and romance—she experienced in the US hard to forget back in the USSR. The other is Ingrid, a British-German woman who adopts a Russian identity after her parents are killed in WWII. Ingrid’s story spans several decades, but the bulk takes place in the 1950s.
Both women are eventually forced to acknowledge the harm being done to themselves and those they love by the USSR. Anya decides to work with the US, and Ingrid works for Britain. As they learn the ins and outs of spycraft, they discover that the most difficult enemy to face can be their own fear, ambitions, and even loyalty.
Reay did an amazing job balancing the historical and atmospheric information she’d gathered. She never seemed to fall into stereotypes or flaunt her research for the sake of it. I never felt like she was repeating “Hey, it’s the 80s!” or the 50s, or Soviet Russia. Yet, the research was there. I didn’t catch anything that felt like an anachronism and all the historical details matched up with what I’ve learned about the cold war era.
Which leads me to one of my takeaways from the book: well-written historical fiction is the most enjoyable when it’s set in an era you enjoy learning about. Being familiar with some of the events and figures mentioned gave me a real-world framework to place the book in. And it’s just plain satisfying to say to yourself “I know all about that!” when you’re reading.
Another aspect of Reay’s writing I enjoyed was how she gave Anya and Ingrid’s parts of the book distinct styles. Each character had a voice and personality. I quickly quit minding that Anya’s scenes were written in the present tense, even though I prefer past tense in fiction.
The only thing I would have changed about the book would be the cold-open and epilogue. There was nothing wrong with these parts. They didn’t harm the book, I just didn’t find them needed.
A cold-open is when a story begins with a teaser of one of the most climactic moments later in the book. I’m not a fan of this technique. The goal of a cold-open is to hook the reader and establish tension from the start, which is a worthy goal. For me, though, reading a scene about characters I haven’t met facing a conflict I know nothing about isn’t that tense or compelling. I also think they run the risk of “spoiling” the climax when it actually arrives. A well-written first chapter—which A Shadow in Moscow has—is all the opening I need to be hooked. Of course, this is coming from the perspective of a writer who over analyzes everything. Someone who’s just casually reading and doesn’t have an editor in their head they can’t turn off might feel differently.
As for the epilogue, I’m truly not sure why it was included. Yes, showing a third generation working for US intelligence was a sweet, full-circle moment, but I felt that the way Ingrid and Anya’s stories ended had provided sufficient closure and left the book on a positive but poignant note. Like the cold-open, it didn’t detract from the book, but it didn’t add anything for me either. If anything, the fact that I don’t think the epilogue was needed is just more proof of how rewarding I found the main story and its ending.
So, there you have it. My first review of my first cold war novel. I hope there will be more to come. Katherine Reay has another book called The Berlin Letters that’s on my list to read.
As for A Shadow in Moscow, I highly recommend it. If you want a historical read that’s a bit different from the usual suspects, give it a go. It has plenty of suspense and emotion, but it’s still an overall easy and uplifting read.