I’m quite enjoying Dan Wheatcroft’s offbeat espionage novels. I wonder if other people have the same reaction. I honestly see why some wouldn’t like them.

The Summer of 75 takes place (obviously) nine years after the previous book, The Summer of 66. Our hero John Gallagher, now an experienced counterespionage agent, gets his first overseas assignment. An East German government official, whom he met in the previous book, wants to defect. It’s Gallagher’s job to help him. The government, always tightfisted, stretches to the expense of issuing him a gun and a few bullets.

Of course there are wheels within wheels. There’s a British agent in the pay of the Russians, who very much does not want the defector to be debriefed in the west. There’s the secret police, who know a lot of secrets, but don’t know which ones are red herrings. Not only are all the characters playing games with the others, they’re second-guessing them and doing their best to manipulate reactions.

I can’t claim that I followed the plot of The Summer of 75 all the way through. As is customary with Wheatcroft’s books, it’s pretty complex, all the threads densely packed together. This is a story with very little free space in it, like the roots of a pot-bound plant.

Yet somehow, I found the book relaxing to read. I can’t account for that reaction.

There are a few odd grammar lapses. The author doesn’t know how to conjugate the verb “hang.” He says “X hung him/herself,” more than once. He also has trouble with “sat.” He writes quite professionally otherwise, so that’s peculiar.

But I enjoyed The Summer of 75 – rather more, in fact, than I enjoyed the year itself when I lived through it.

The novel, The Box, by Dan Wheatcroft, which I reviewed the other day, turned out to be a continuation of an existing series of two books about British counterespionage in decades past. I was intrigued enough to pick up the first novel, The Summer of 66, whose hero (he only appears briefly in The Box) is agent John Gallagher.

The story begins with young Gallagher, formerly of Special Branch, being transferred to the Home Office Statistical Unit, a suitably dull cover for an intelligence operation. In contrast to our ingrained images of James Bond’s world, Gallagher’s new workplace is notably dull. It looks like a slightly shopworn small business operation, not very well funded. (The not very well-funded part, at least, is true. When John eventually gets outfitted with a weapon, it’s no state of the art armament from Q, but a standard revolver. The budget is too tight to allocate him as many cartridges as he’d like.)

The first operation John is involved in concerns the problem of a suspicious number of cryptologists involved in a certain secret project having recently committed suicide. Do the Russians have a method for inducing depression and despair? The group’s investigations uncover a ring of ruthless deep-cover agents.

I’m not entirely sure why I enjoy these books as much as I do. They have noticeable weaknesses. The prose isn’t top-shelf (misplaced modifiers are sometimes among the problems). I can only describe the plotting as dense – we’re bombarded with information, and it’s often difficult to follow the many story threads.

But I think it’s that very denseness that makes the books compelling – for me. There’s an authentic sense of real life here – the way I myself feel when multiple stimuli threaten to overwhelm me. (Author Wheatcroft confesses in his bio to being on the autism scale. Since I believe I’m low-level autistic myself, that may be what attracts me.)

A genuflection is made to the altar of gay rights in this book, but the author demonstrated himself un-Woke in The Box, so I let that go by.

I’m not sure if normal readers will enjoy The Summer of 66 as much as I did. But I certainly did enjoy it.