I Am Pilgrim

In the end it's a secret agent racing against the clock to avert jihadist armageddon. It's great in that sense with a sort of summer blockbuster movie logic. It could have been really great if stripped down to a more workmanlike prose but stumbles under author Hayes. It's not only his penchant for nicknames like Rider of the Blue, Whispering Death, Saracen and Pilgrim, but countless bits of prose that remind me of a 12 year old writing an international thriller. It reads like the love child of Pee Wee Herman and Dan Brown.

“I stared at them, asking myself why they would have thought of me. But if I was honest, I knew the answer. I was a perfect candidate for the secret world. I was smart, I had always been a loner and I was damaged deep in my soul.”

The book is filled with these little bits that make me cringe and wish he'd just stick with telling the story.

“He catches sight of me – standing silently against the wall, just watching, like I seem to have spent half my life doing. He ignores the people demanding his attention and makes his way over. We don't shake hands – I don't know why, it's just never been our way. I'm not even sure if we're friends – I've always been pretty much on the outside of any side you can find, so I'm probably not the one to judge. We respect each other, though, if that helps.”

Ugh.