All of the Le Carre novels involve the theme of betrayal and exploitation in some subtle manner. This is one where the main character, as actress, has to betray and exploit herself. She - and by implication, we as readers - never know what is authentic and what is artifice in her. Le Carre demolishes the distinction. For this very quality she is taken on by the Israeli secret service, who need to construct an elaborate but plausible facade. Like all Le Carre's other novels there's an ambivalence about what is right and wrong. The characters are complex, ofttimes confusing in their motives and unsure of the efficacy and rightness of what they're doing. What makes this book unusually troubling is Le Carre's exposure of the fakeness and schism in the soul of western man.Is there anything bona fide and clear about us? Is life for us just theatre?