So this one... Like most of his books, war is the background, both world wars in this case. The main subject of the book, Robert, is a psychologist, successful author, travels extensively with his work, lives alone in his London flat, and not entirely happy with his life. But unable to pinpoint his melancholy, his feeling of just drifting through his life. The arrival of a letter from France, from a much older fellow doctor who claims to have known Robert's father on the Western Front during World War I sets Robert onto his own path of self analysis. He himself saw his fair share of action, tragedy, danger and trauma during the second war, and having all this thrown up in front of him leads him to France and the uncovering of his and his father's past.
It has many good points and I did feel engaged while reading it, there is no doubt about his crafting and beautiful writing, but somehow for me it just was not enough. It did not come together in a satisfying complete way. Not sure if I will read any more Faulkes.