B.W. Leavitt How to Train a Spy has come at the right time when the audience is tired of action sequences, over the top gadgets and invincible secret agents. The audiences of today are demanding something authentic, a fiction that has its basis in the truths and difficulties of contemporary intelligence operations, the way of doing things and the emotional realities of the work. Leavitt does precisely that, with detailed precision and captivating storytelling.
Instead of focusing the story on a life-long operative or a high-level agent, the novel presents the reader with a new character of Brian Lewis, a correctional officer who finds himself in the secret world of intelligence. His espionage career does not come easy, but it is a disorienting, fearful and personal thing. This style is an indication to the readers at the first page that this story is not going to be of the same model as the genre. Rather, it demonstrates how an average individual can be changed into an efficient agent by means of training, self-sacrifice, and bravery.
Its devotion to verisimilitude is also strengthened with the training sequences in How to Train a Spy. Brian also goes through an intensive, multi-level training involving weapon handling, surveillance tactics, psychological conditioning, covert communications, escape procedures, and the multifaceted control of undercover identities. These scenes are not represented as thrilling montages or automatic proficiency advances. They are intentional, demanding and entirely based on the actual intelligence procedures. The learning of the Farsi language in a few days and the mini-sub escape training done by Brian are presented with accuracy to remind the audience that espionage is an art- not a game of chance or movies.
A very interesting new thing developed in the novel is the theme of the covert traveling and masquerading. The trip of Brian to Russia and later Iran is full of meticulously planned seat assignments, encrypted messages, red herrings, and hidden messages in ordinary parts of the world. These measures indicate the real aspect of the work of espionage, that intelligence work relies on subtleties, planning and being always alert.
The very mission, the infiltration of a black site by Brian under the control of Russians in Iran, makes the novel even more realistic. Instead of using mystical feats or excessive confrontations, the story is presented with a strategy, surveillance, and risk taking. Brian collects the intelligence required to reveal an unfolding electromagnetic weapon when he goes through the facility with care, keeping the perfect Russian persona, and with the help of his assigned wife Jasmine, an Iranian agent. Their collaboration is the essence of the covert job: not confident, stressed, and rooted in trust that is developed through incredible circumstances.
The real difference that How to Train a Spy makes compared to other spy films of its genre is the focus on the emotional and psychological experience of being a spy. The fact that Brian loves his family, has an internal conflict, and is under the strain of secrecy gives the book added depth which is usually lacking in traditional spy fiction. The faked death, the emotional heart-to-heartbreak escape, and the traumatizing unpredictability of his return to the United States reveal an emotional realism that is hardly ever witnessed in the genre. Readers are also reminded that actual undercover operations have long-term implications, and the highest cost of spying is usually paid in-house.
B.W. Leavitt provides a thought-provoking, intriguing, and compelling variation of the espionage fiction in How to Train a Spy. Fusing real intelligence facts with the vulnerability of a human person, he establishes a new norm in the genre one that strives to appeal to the contemporary reader as an exciting story, which is also a true one. It is more than a spy novel, it is a wonderful redefinition of the spy fiction genre.