Blending fact with fiction is no easy task. Lean too far into history, and a novel becomes a
lecture. Lean too far into fiction, and readers lose their sense of authenticity. Thomas Green’s
The Island achieves that elusive balance.
The book anchors itself in the turbulence of the late 20th century: Soviet decline, Japanese
economic dominance, and CIA maneuvers. These backdrops are factual, carefully researched, and recognizable. Yet Green never allows them to overwhelm the story. Instead, history acts as a stage on which fictional characters move, love, betray, and fight.
Take Boris Nekrich, for example. He is not a historical figure, but his disillusionment mirrors the fate of countless operatives left adrift after the Cold War. Similarly, the financial schemes in Japan reflect genuine anxieties about global markets at the time. By tying personal stories to historical movements, Green ensures that the novel feels both real and riveting.
This balance gives The Island its power. Readers walk away entertained—but also enlightened, with a deeper sense of how history shaped lives in ways textbooks rarely capture.
