The Day of the Jackal was gifted to me by a friend on my 16th birthday, in 1978. It was my first Frederick Forsyth book. The Day of the Jackal was immensely gripping. Absolutely unputdownable. I read it in one sitting, staying awake through the night. The novel focused on the meticulous planning and execution of an assassination attempt, rather than simply the outcome. The novel's strength lay in its exploration of how things are done, keeping the reader constantly on edge as the Jackal, an assassin, navigates his mission. Frederick Forsyth, the master story-teller that he was, created suspense and anticipation, even though as the reader I knew full well that the attempt would most likely fail. I became an instant fan of Forsyth.
So I used my meagre pocket money to go buy The Odessa File, the other Forsyth thriller that he had published a few years earlier. And what a treat it was! The thriller skilfully blended suspense, historical accuracy, and a compelling narrative about justice, and the pursuit of truth. The book delved into the horrifying realities of the Holocaust and the secret networks that helped Nazi war criminals evade justice, while also exploring themes of revenge and the complexities of dealing with the past. Forsyth had meticulously researched the story, grounding the narrative in real historical events and the chilling reality of Odessa, the fictionalized organization that helped Nazi war criminals escape justice. In the novel Peter Miller, the German reporter, is a driven and determined protagonist who is relentless in his pursuit of the truth. The story was filled with suspense, chase scenes, and dangerous encounters, keeping me on the edge during the entire read. What I loved was that the book featured a range of characters with distinct motives, from the Mossad agents seeking revenge to the Nazi sympathizers, adding layers of complexity to the narrative. The story itself explored the complexities of seeking justice for past atrocities and the lengths people would go to achieve it, while also raising questions about forgiveness and the legacy of the past. I hadn’t read anything quite like The Odessa File – I was just mesmerized.
Frederick Forsyth died on Monday, earlier this week, at his home in Jordans, a village north of London. He was 86. Forsyth was a master of the geopolitical nail-biter, writing novels embedded in an international demimonde populated by spies, mercenaries and political extremists. He wrote 24 books, including 14 novels, and sold more than 75 million copies. I have read most of his novels with The Dogs of War my absolute favourite.
Born in Ashford, Kent in 1938, Forsyth flew fighter jets during his national service, but when the Royal Air Force couldn’t guarantee that he would stay in the cockpit he set out to see the world. While working for Reuters as a journalist, he got a lucky break and got posted to Paris.
Forsyth’s Paris of 1961 was in turmoil, with right wing militants threatening to assassinate Charles de Gaulle after his offer of independence to Algeria. On 22 August 1962, Gaulle survived what would be the most serious of 30 attempts on his life. De Gaulle and his wife, Yvonne, were being driven through a Paris suburb for a flight from Villacoublay military airport, eight miles from the Élysée Palace. They were travelling in a black Citroën DS, followed by an escort vehicle and two motorcycle police officers on Triumph bikes. As the Citroën passed through the southern suburb of Petit-Clamart, a hit squad with machine guns strafed De Gaulle’s vehicle and nearby shops. The president and his wife ducked and escaped unharmed despite the car being hit several times and bullets passing within a few inches of De Gaulle’s head. The president’s car roared away to the airport. Forsyth got the inside track on the security operation from De Gaulle’s bodyguards. Later when asked if an assassination could have been successful, the writer shook his head. “It could be done,” Forsyth replied, “but only by an outsider. An assassin with no name, no face, no record, no dossier. And a professional.” The seed of an international bestseller was sown.
However, very few know that a novel by an unknown author about an assassination attempt on a man who everyone knew died of natural causes did not immediately find a publisher. But Forsyth persisted; on his 14th attempt, Jackal was accepted. Serialised in the London Evening Standard, it swiftly became a wildly successful bestseller.
I have always prized the gritty detail and breathtaking tension of Forsyth’s books. They were more realistic than the fantasy world of Ian Fleming’s James Bond, and the plots were simpler and more clear cut than the convoluted ambiguities of his left-wing rival John le Carre. Sadly there will be no more thrillers from Frederick Forsyth to stay up all night, and read. Alas!
Dr. Sandeep Goyal is the author of The Dum Dum Bullet and Konjo – The Fighting Spirit.
