It’s sad news to hear of an author like Frederick Forsyth passing this week. I remember when his book The Day of the Jackal came out, and how it was subsequently made into a movie.
For those aspiring writers, The Day of the Jackal was fascinating because it was written in such a tight, economical way. Some say it might’ve been because he was a correspondent for Reuters. But I think he was a natural novelist.
A few years ago, I read his autobiography titled The Outsider: My Life in Intrigue. It was fascinating. He was one of the youngest—if not the youngest—RAF jet pilots in the history of the Royal Air Force.
Later in the same book, he talks about a meeting he held with a South African minister called Pik Botha. Forsyth did some intelligence work for the British intelligence agency, and they were curious to know what South Africa was going to do with—I think it was—six atomic bombs then in the country’s possession. Minister Botha, according to Forsyth, told him not to worry and to reassure his intelligence contacts that all those bombs would be dismantled.
Fascinating that this information would come from a British thriller author. In the book—and I’m paraphrasing—he intimates that the British were concerned about those atomic bombs falling into the hands of certain people in South Africa. We know who they are, but I’m not going to mention them here.
Thank goodness the South African government at the time had the foresight to dismantle those bombs. One can only boggle at what could’ve happened if those atomic weapons were still armed when the country was given away to the new regime.
But that’s an aside.
Forsyth gave us many fantastic tales, and I can still remember lying in bed at night reading his wonderful novels. He also had a short story collection—No Comebacks, I think it was—published in 1982. Boy, what a number of great short stories were in that collection.
Frederick Forsyth may be gone, but for those interested in his life, his work, and in his particular kind of affection—for drama, justice, and danger—his words live on.
Farewell to a great British author.
