John le Carré is something of a revered author, a writer who had taken the spy genre and elevated it into literature. His fans are fiercely loyal and were understandably skeptical of the news that his most beloved novel was to be turned into a movie.
Does intellectual ability make us human? Or self-consciousness? Or the possession of a soul? Or tool-making? Or private property? Or genetic inheritance? Whatever definition we choose, it excludes some creatures we might want to include in the "human."
Of all the things that exist, none is stranger than nothing. But, of course, nothing is not a thing, and neither can it be said to exist. So why are people fascinated by nothing? Why should something so crazy and mind-boggling be important?
What seems to provoke disgust is the co-presence of death with pulsing life: the corpse being consumed by bacteria and worms, living things turned to dead pulp in digestion, bleeding wounds, scurrying rats in graveyards.