The final novel of Jeffrey Archer.
I had skipped the William Warwick series because it was beginning to read like a repeat of his previous Harry Clifton series, and even my loyalty had its limits. But this one — Adam & Eve — I decided to buy; partly because he had said it would be his final novel, but also because it was thanks to him that my reading habit found a foothold. I was a late bloomer when it came to reading, and it was Jeffrey’s Archer’s books that helped me develop the stamina to complete books that were more than 200 pages long.
I loved his first few books, starting with his debut novel Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less. It was just so clever! If I was hooked then, Kane and Abel made it line and sinker. The sweeping saga of two lives that ran in parallel, building up to the inevitable and fateful crossing of their paths, was not just a frantic page-turner but also an emotional rollercoaster. The story would swing one way, and then the other, until the very end, with you rooting for the hero to somehow prevail against the shenanigans of the villain. His moral world was very black and white.
The story just got better with the sequels —The Prodigal Daughter and Shall We Tell the President? Part of the charm was that he was British; part of it was the clever weaving of the story with real world leaders and events; then there were the catchy titles that were often a playful turn of phrase; but largely it was his ability to turn the story on its head with the last sentence, and in some cases, the last word.
In keeping with his penchant for unexpected twists, it was perhaps quite ironically fitting that he passed away a day before the release of his book, and he never got to see what the world thought of what he claimed was his best effort yet. It was exactly the kind of twist that he would have been proud of.
You are probably wondering why I am writing about this book here. Why does it matter? Well, I don’t really know. I guess at one level, it is just that I enjoyed reading his last book, and wanted to write about it, even if I was angry with the ending, or maybe because I was upset. At another level, it is perhaps an attempt to pay (a brief) homage to a writer whose books I have thoroughly enjoyed, some of which I have read more than once. And then yet again, at a very different level, perhaps this might be to just reflect on how fate plays its hand in our lives.
I have repeatedly found that when I have looked to go left, life (or fate) has sent me flying right. It has happened so regularly that it has become meaningless to ask: what do I want? Does it matter? Life does its own thing anyway, so why bother? Or, does life do its thing only after I set my sights on something? Does it need to know what I am thinking before sending me off in an entirely different direction?
How about you? Has your life been more predictable? Have you gone exactly where you intended to go? Or have you also found that fate has played a heavy hand in your life, and that’s just how it is.
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