The Sympathizer [antikvár]

CHAPTER 1 I AM A SPY; a sleeper; a spook, a man of two faces. Perhaps not surprisingly; I am also a man of two minds. I am not some misunderstood mutant from a comic book or a horror moviC; although some have treated me as such. I am simply able to see any issue from both sides. Sometimes I flatter myself that this is a talent; and although it is admittedly one of a minor nature, it is perhaps also the sole talent I possess. At other times, when I reflect on how I cannot help but observe the world in such a fashion, I wonder if what I have should even be called talent. After all, a talent is something you use, not something that uses you. The talent you cannot not use, the talent that possesses you—that is a hazard; I must confess. But in the month when this confession begins, my way of seeing the world still seemed more of a virtue than a danger, which is how some dangers first appear. The month in question was April, the crudest month. It was the month in which a war that had run on for a very long time would lose its limbs, as is the way of wars. It was a month that meant everything to all the people in our small