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Yes, for a good illustration of the complexity of Doyle's complex racial attitudes, look at the Sherlock Holmes story "The Yellow Face," which has been rightfully called one of the noblest treatments of Black characters in Victorian literature, and then at the later Holmes story "The Three Gables," which features the n-word and various derogatory comments about a black man's appearance and smell.
That is indeed very violent. Ultimately I think Fleming devised this scene to let Bond get his own back, in the context of the larger narrative. Beforehand, Bond had walked into Mr. Big's trap and sat helplessly in front of the villain's gun-desk while Felix was taken out to be beaten and Bond's finger was snapped. If Bond did not gain some retribution afterward he would look impotent. Though Bond cannot yet revenge himself on Mr. Big he does the next best thing and gets back at Tee-Hee, the giggling sadist who did the dirty work. I don't regard Fleming as truly sadistic, but the deaths of Tee-Hee and the Robber definitely verge on sadism.
I'd agree. That said, there were some nationalities he downright hated (as shown in Goldfinger's treatment of Koreans), some he was merely catty about (the French), and others who he admired and hated simultaneously (the Germans--Fleming even makes Milton Krest and Major Smythe half-German, as if Teutonic blood explained their villainy).
Incidentally, while I'm on record as finding fault with the '06 Casino Royale's adaptation of Fleming, it's still a thousand miles superior to the film of LALD, which managed to junk most of what was great in the novel (though on the plus side, the film has an enchanting Solitaire, an epic boat chase, and a marvelous Baron Samedi). Almost as if in recognition of what a missed opportunity the film was, later Bond movies made prominent use of the unadapted parts of the book: the Robber and Felix being fed to the sharks were used in Licence to Kill, while the keel-hauling was used in FYEO. Effective as the scene was in there, it doesn't match the hellish grand guignol of the original and its ticking time-bomb scenario. As for the film of LALD, why did anyone think a heroin giveaway was more exciting than Bloody Morgan's pirate treasure? Why was Kananga's deah something out of Looney Tunes? Yaphet Kotto was an excellent actor, but he wasn't physically imposing enough to play Fleming's Mr. Big. Geoffrey Holder was, but the film unwisely separated Mr. Big from Baron Samedi and imposed all that Kananga nonsense. Mankiewicz had a talent for witty dialogue (at the expense of everything else), but he left out most of Mr. Big's great speeches, further reducing the character's stature. How wonderful it would have been to hear Holder say:
You're right, a reprisal was very much called for here, and I may well be reading into the scene something that isn't there. I think what struck me as being off about it was simply the extent of the sadism and that the only other scene I could recall in the series where Bond displays a similar degree of viciousness in his violence (apart from Blofeld, which is a whole different matter) is with the weaselly German in Moonraker, which did feel like a racially charged thing to me—though I may well be misremembering that. I guess I'll find out soon enough when we get there. As I'm approaching the end of Live and Let Die, however, I'm finding what racially-tinged content there is in the book would fall under the category of "casual racism." Not that that excuses it, but it's important nonetheless to acknowledge there are degrees. And as you mention below, I'm sure there are far worse instances yet to come.
As much as I enjoy the film Live and Let Die, you're right there were many missed opportunities. Splitting Big and Baron Samedi into two villains was one of them, and the plot involving the theft of pirate treasure to finance SMERSH operations was another. That storyline could and very well should be used in some future Bond film. And yes, Big received some tremendous lines in the book. You can actually find hints of some of his dialogue in some of the film series' grandest villains: most prominently, Goldfinger and Telly's Blofeld.
On Solitaire's disappearance: "...before he slept, he had made up his mind. He would go after the Robber as soon as it was light and strangle the truth out of him." To my memory this seems to be THE most vengeance-minded Bond story. Violent revenge appears to be on Bond's mind every step of the way.
A little contrived having Felix go off without Bond to investigate. I don't buy that Felix wouldn't take Bond with him, however early in the morning. But it does get us to a great turn of events.
Again, the heavy hand of the writer comes in with this convoluted gesture of sending Bond on a fool's errand to the hospital so they can dump Leiter at the cottage.
The payoff is tremendous though. What guts to horrendously maim a character with such potential as Felix Leiter, and only halfway through the second book. The sick joke on the note is the bloody icing on the cake. Bond thinks about all the adventures he's shared with Felix, which makes sense as they'd been through a lot together already between CR and now this voodoo case, but the phrasing still strikes me as peculiar as this is only the second book of twelve. I'm glad the scene found its way to screen in LTK, and with David Hedison, the Leiter of L&LD, in the part. By that point we've really had a history of the character on screen, and having a familiar face in the role helps bring the gravity Fleming intended home.
Some dark humor in the aquarium man's throwaway thought on buying sharks: "Costs a lot to feed 'em." Yes, the cost is great indeed.
Wonderful ending line: "Bond took out his gun and cleaned it, waiting for the night." Oh yes, vengeance will be had.
15. Midnight Among the Worms
I like that, contrary to what one might expect, Bond fills himself with a hearty, even quite rich, meal before setting out to take down the Robber: "the biggest steak, rare, with French fried" (French fries), "a quarter of a pint of Old Grand-Dad," and "two cups of very strong coffee." When people are nervous, afraid, in grief, etc., they lose their appetite. Yes, Bond's friend has just been maimed. Yes, he has a job ahead of him. But he eats to put himself in the right frame of body and mind for the job, and he eats well.
I love how thoroughly and thoughtfully Fleming describes Bond's entry into the warehouse, even having Bond remove his shoes for noise cover.
"...occasionally a piece of living jewellery would materialize and briefly goggle at him before he moved on." So good!
I really like Bond's encounter with the scorpion fish for a couple of reasons: for one thing it's a great plot-necessary way for Fleming to put Bond into a dangerous situation with a poisonous fish, and secondly, it demonstrates Bond's knowledge in worldly things helping him out on a mission (better to put your hand in the tank of the poisonous fish that doesn't strike than one that does). And of course Fleming's description of Bond spearing the fish is superb. Fleming really is most in his element with nature writing.
And the way the feeding of the great white is compared to the grunt of a giant pig. Fantastic.
"For a moment blind rage seized him." A kill attributed to rage. Though of course we know Bond went there with vengeance in mind in the first place, and Fleming even concludes the chapter by saying: "A small payment had been made on account of Solitaire and Leiter." Even so, Bond is not inhuman. Fleming writes that he "grimly shut his mind to the horror beneath the floor..." There was no pleasure in what he did. Emotion, yes, but no pleasure. It was, as Fleming writes, "payment." Just revenge appears to be an acceptable, even vital, part of Fleming's and Bond's moral fabric.
16. The Jamaica Version
I really like the opening of this chapter. We remain with Bond at two in the morning, immediately following on from his encounter with the Robber. He stops at a bar, orders a double bourbon, and goes in the washroom to inspect his throbbing hand. Fleming says a lot just by giving us this brief scene and in actually saying very little about it: the way Bond's eyes are described as "red with strain and lack of sleep," how there was "no talk left in Bond," how he just sits there, looking into his glass, thinking about Leiter and the Robber and in his head hears " the sickening grunt of the feeding of the shark."
The portrait continues with Bond checking into a motel. Fleming strips his marvelously descriptive prose down to a stark minimum, showing us Bond going through the motions of dumping his things, showering, cleaning his teeth, climbing into bed. All of it written very numb-like. Then our final thought before sleep: "It was the first night since he had arrived in America that did not threaten a fresh battle with his stars on the morrow." Beautiful.
Kind of a sad moment where Bond phones the hospital before boarding his flight to Jamaica and wishes he hadn't when he learns Leiter is still unconscious, no news. They really are friends.
Then on the plane, Bond thinks about flying over Cuba, where Solitaire is held, and thinks of her hearing the plane and that "perhaps her instincts would make her look up towards the sky and feel that for a moment he was nearby." I don't know if I'm reading more into this than is here, but these reflections on Leiter and Solitaire actually feel rather sweet of Bond. You don't typically think of Bond as being a sweet person or of ever having sweet thoughts, especially with all the kicking of people to their deaths with his steel-capped shoes, but I'll be damned if Bond isn't portrayed as being sweet here.
Then we have this very interesting segment where the plane runs through a tropical storm, sending Bond into a hyper-reflective train of thought not unlike a scene you might find in Fight Club, appraising "the Eau de Cologne in the washroom," "the 'orchid for your lady' now trembling in the refrigerator," "least of all the safety belts...nor the cute little rescue-lamp that glows red." You half expect Brad Pitt to lean in and add, "An exit door procedure at 15,000 feet. You are not your precious Chesterfields. You are not your Bentley 4 1/2 Litre." Then Bond's thoughts turn darker and the sentences extend in length, mirroring his stream of consciousness, and he imagines everyone crashing into the sea and dying. And then he gets philosophical: the sea is "their destiny anyway, so why worry?" and "You start to die the moment you are born. The whole of life is cutting through the pack with death." This idea of "your stars" guiding your fate comes into play again, something which aligns nicely with all the voodoo business—forces greater than ourselves governing the state of things. Curious thoughts for Bond to be having, but at the end of it all, his conclusion is very true to the typical Bond we know: "So take it easy. Light a cigarette and be grateful you are still alive as you suck the smoke deep into your lungs." Cherish the moments. Take pleasure in life. You never know when your stars will call your life quits. And ultimately, another profoundly Bondian thought wipes the philosophizing slate clean: "To hell with it."
17. The Undertaker's Wind
Jamaican breakfast: "red bananas, purple star-apples, and tangerines...Blue Mountain coffee..guava jelly," and of course, scrambled eggs.
After introducing Strangways, sporting a hardcore black eye-patch, in the previous chapter, Fleming brings Quarrel into play as well. Always good to have trusty allies on hand—especially now after losing both Solitaire and Felix.
No surprise Fleming brings the story to Jamaica (he'd mentioned the place enough in Casino Royale). The descriptions here are gorgeous and written with his firsthand knowledge of the scenery: "The green flanks of the uplands, all feathered with bamboo interspersed with the dark, glinting green of breadfruit and the sudden Bengal fire of Flame of the Forest, gave way to the lower forests of ebony, mahogany, mahoe, and logwood."
Bond lazes about in the warm water, a nice moment of relaxation, yet his mind is on the Isle of Surprise and the dangerous stretch of sea that stands between it and himself.
This "rolling calf"—"the ghastly animal that comes rolling toward you along the ground, its legs in chains and flames coming out of its nostrils"—sounds perfectly terrifying.
Nice sequence here of Bond training with Quarrel for the great swim across Shark Bay.
Bond cuts his cigarettes down to ten a day for the swim. I believe this is the first indication of just how much Bond smokes.
News of Felix arrives and heartens Bond. Face being rebuilt, parts of one arm and one leg needing amputating. Looking out the window, Bond quickly sends his well wishes.
Lovely conclusion to the chapter with Bond walking onto the veranda and looking up at "his stars." Fleming lays all the stakes out for the reader: the mystery of the treasure, the battle against Mr. Big, and ultimately "the destruction of a tentacle of SMERSH." Bond has no idea what fate his stars will spell for him.
18. Beau Desert
Thoughts on barracuda, shark repellent. Journey to Beau Desert, the bayside plantation that will serve as their final base of operations. More descriptions of gorgeous Jamaica scenery. Combat equipment. Report on the Secatur, confirmation Solitaire is with Big. Discovery that the ship will be sailing in the morning, leaving only tonight for Bond's attack. Wouldn't want it any other way, now would we? Bond preps by taking a Benzedrine tablet with half a glass of whiskey. "Here's luck."
I saw a lot of signs in Casino that made it quite obvious that Fleming was a first time fiction writer, making rookie mistakes. So much telling instead of showing (shocking for such a descriptive scribe) and a lack of smart structure. He should've known that the best way to interject Le Chiffre and SMERSH's files into the book was by addressing those topics with a scene in M's office where Bond got his brief, and not by literally jamming all the content into a very random chapter lacking proper foundation. Minor gripes, often, but the pacing of his writing early on could've been easily fixed in areas. The last eight chapters of Casino could've especially been truncated or focused. Cut down Vesper's crying fits and breakdowns from twenty instances to a reasonable eight and we're halfway there.
I'm not into L&LD enough yet to judge if some of these issues still carry over into Fleming's second effort, but I'll be keeping my eyes peeled.
I actually like that Fleming worked backstory on Le Chiffre and SMERSH into government documents. I feel they lended an air of authenticity to Fleming's storytelling upfront. The Vesper chapters, however, likely could have been better condensed and moved along.
My issue with chapter 2 is that Fleming starts it off by cleverly integrating the files with M's talk with superiors, then he just drops that angle and spews a bunch of exposition out for pages on end with no real sense of style. It's interesting to read for fans who care about the minute character details, but I can't imagine casuals being interested in any of it.
Tremendously visual sequence here: Bond's midnight streak across the bottom of Shark Bay, racing on foot across this incredible underwater world.
And then this thrilling encounter with the octopus. A very unexpected threat—you rarely think of octopi as serious threats to humans—but that's why it works so well, and Fleming would return to the idea of octopi as threats in Octopussy and Dr. No.
I just love all the details that add to the reality of Bond's mission: Bond having to pull hard against the magnetic mine to prevent it from clanging against the hull, then having to adjust to his new buoyancy, now bereft of the added weight.
20. Bloody Morgan's Cave
Awesome description of Mr. Big having "harnessed the forces of the sea for his protection" by inciting the barracuda to a feeding frenzy with offal. It feels larger than life—this idea of channeling the sea as a weapon—and very evocative of classic Bondian villainy.
I like that Fleming provides a reason for why Bond has to infiltrate the island, even if Strangways could alert the authorities and have the Secatur intercepted on the high seas: "to stop Solitaire at all costs from sailing in the doomed ship."
Another incongruous setting for the villain: as Bond is manhandled through the cave, he is suddenly brought before a card table full of papers where Big sits in a fine suit, as if in an office, looking bored yet polite. Perfectly unexpected.
The fight with the octopus was what led to Bond's air bubbles escaping, thus alerting Big to his presence. So the fight wasn't just a gratuitous thrill (not that that wouldn't have been unwelcome anyway); all the same, Fleming makes the encounter relevant to the plot.
21. 'Good Night to You Both'
A show of bravado from Bond, drenched in blood and on the verge of fainting, as he smiles and half winks one eye at Solitaire. Pure Bond. Even without a plan, he lets the girl have some hope.
Mr. Big is so physically impressive Bond must remind himself he is only a man.
A reasonable explanation for why Big doesn't kill Bond and Solitaire outright: his infallibility has been called into question by Bond's scores against him, and he must now make a show of their deaths. They will die at six o'clock. Give or take a few minutes.
Great response from Bond: "Let's give those minutes. I enjoy my life."
I love how Big's plan is to throw Bond and Solitaire OFF the mine-rigged ship that will spell his own doom. Something wickedly excellent about the irony in that.
Though the book really has steered clear of acknowledging the supernatural as a real thing, when Solitaire breaks down over all the death she sees, Bond snaps at her angrily, afraid she might give something away. A great moment in and of itself, but it also speaks somewhat to Bond's tendency to be occasionally superstitious or at least open to various possibilities about what might exist beyond the natural world.
22. Terror by Sea
Bond "coldly" decides to drown Solitaire beneath himself if the sharks set on them (then try to drown himself beneath the weight of her dead body). I love how we're shown Bond thinking his way through these worst case scenarios—the impossible decisions he may have to make in his work that we're fortunately never shown.
Quite the image of Solitaire stripped naked and bound face-to-face against Bond. Like a dime novel cover. Pure pulp.
Big's instructions plucked almost word for word for FYEO. When in doubt, use Fleming.
Exhilarating sequence here with Bond and Solitaire being towed through the water, gasping for breath, locking their bodies against each other, maneuvering for Bond to see where they are.
Then the explosion, and though he's knocked unconscious, the cold water rushing into his mouth brings him to and he treads hard to keep himself and Solitaire's dead weight at the surface. Fleming is unrelenting as ever in putting Bond through the wringer.
Great moment where Big emerges from the sea, blood streaming down his head, naked but for his black silk necktie, and makes directly for Bond. Then Fleming goes to town on the villain. First two barracuda, one from either side, then a giant leopard shark, each swallowing chunks from the screaming man until Big's head is left floating in the water, staring horribly at Bond. Then that too is swallowed. Man should have kept himself together. Not like him just go to pieces like that.
Quarrel to the rescue, and surprisingly, Bond cries his first tears since childhood. Indeed, it was quite the ordeal. Surely these are tears of both relief and pure mental and emotional exhaustion. As far as Bond novels go, LALD takes a lot out of Bond, physically and emotionally (Leiter).
23. Passionate Leave
From chowing sharks and blood-clouded waters to humming birds and hibiscus flowers, we enter a Jamaican paradise.
Solitaire mixes vodka martinis. Six-to-one ratio. Like a little martini with your vodka?
We learn that directly upon their rescue, Bond had carried Solitaire inside to the bath and washed her head to toe without her knowing, then dried her and tended to her wounds and laid her down to sleep with a kiss. Awww.
Then Strangways does the same for Bond! (Well, without the kiss.)
A barracuda had taken a mouthful out of Bond's shoulder. Yikes. You wonder how Bond managed to recover for each new mission and have enough of his body left to keep getting beat up, book after book after book.
Before heading to the hospital, Bond has a giant breakfast. Must be the sixth or seventh mention of his breakfasting in this book.
High praise from M: "VERY WELL DONE" and "FORTNIGHT'S PASSIONATE LEAVE GRANTED."
This is just a wonderful closing chapter here. After all the hell Bond has gone through throughout CR and LALD, Fleming gives the man some peace and some paradise at long last. Lovely humorous closing line as well where Bond mentions his banged up arm and Solitaire innocently asks, "What about my back?" ;)
Perhaps as close as Fleming ever came to delivering an ending similar to what would become par for the course for the films: Bond and the girl embracing in a paradise, a final message from M, a little innuendo, wink, and that's a wrap.
I think I'll picture Sean as Fleming's Bond for the entire duration of this process now. He is my favorite and I think he's a great fit, so why not?
What? You were expecting me to say "Woody Allen"?
Oh all right, seriously then: sure, Sean is the default but sometimes it's Timothy Dalton & sometimes it's Fleming's caricature of Hoagy Carmichael.
In the past, with certain sections of certain books, I've gotten vibes from the different actors, but that's kind of a different thing.
But with era-appropriate hair.
I was the same, until I saw Mike Grell's Bond, which looks like an ideal fusion of Hoagy and Connery:
Speaking of Connery, Cary Bates and the renown comic book artist Jim Aparo once tried pitching a Bond comic to DC in the late 70s. Aparo's concept art was heavily influenced by Connery (that sardonically raised eyebrow!) but could pass for Fleming's too.
But to honest, when reading the books I don't have an exact visualization of Bond.
Probably because it reminds me so much of Connery in his rugged handsomeness and smoldering sort of determination. Slap a vertical scar on GF or TB Connery and we're close to the above, my preferred image of James Bond in my head.
Some of them are the only faithful adaptations of particular Fleming novels in existence (aside from the radio versions). Great as McLusky's version of Bond was, I thought Yaroslav Horak's was even better:
The thought crossed my mind too as I was typing up my notes. I really don't have an explanation for it. Fleming certainly doesn't provide one. The only thing I can think of would be Bond doing it for Solitaire. Perhaps she has a better chance of survival if Bond gets her out himself. Big might threaten her as a hostage if he's intercepted on the seas—or perhaps Strangways' "interception" would mean blowing the boat out of the water. But again, Fleming doesn't spell this out for us. Bit of an oversight the reader has to fill in or work their way around.
Oh I am too. Moonraker has long been my favorite and is my most read Fleming.
Scrambled eggs count: 4
Moonraker on the morrow. Thursdays are Hell.
Chapter 1- The Red Carpet
I find it interesting that Fleming’s first chapter in Live & Let Die is both a mirror image and a distortion of the first chapter of Casino Royale. Clearly he was working himself into a narrative framework here, where we start off the novel in medias res and get a sense for the setting, a tease of the villain and all the other extraneous data and details about Bond’s present location before Fleming peels it all back for chapter two and tells us how the spy got to where he’s at.
And sure enough, that is how Live & Let Die begins, not unlike Casino. We are thrown into it immediately with an introductory and punching line, then taken by the hand as Bond finds himself in New York again as Fleming pumps the text with a series of details about spy craft to paint the picture of how American intelligence operates and how the cities of the nation work, until we get a hint of Mr. Big, who Bond name-drops without the reader knowing the full picture or meaning of it all yet. This all follows the same pattern of the writer’s debut, where we get a feeling for Bond’s mood, spot our villain, and get information on the mission teased to us in preparation for the next chapter, which will step into the past and explain how he got to where he’s at.
One thing the first chapter of Live & Let Die mixes up, quite refreshingly, is in its first paragraph. The opening of Casino Royale is known far and wide for its very rough and dirty opening, with sentences that paint the picture of the kind of “soul-erosion” that results in the smells, textures and sense of discomfort that sends Bond craving the night air. It’s a chapter that really does everything but glorify Bond’s job as a spy, showing all the exhaustion, fear and tension it can incite, and we see these effects as they impose themselves on Bond, caking his body in thick sweat that bleeds through his shirt.
Contrast this opening with Live & Let Die, and the introductions become jarring-likely by Fleming’s design. Instead of the writer focusing on Bond’s sense of uneasiness or nausea, we encounter him jetting through the airport of New York with a “red carpet” rolled out to greet him. It’s a very upbeat and glorified chapter, showing us all the treats and special treatment that Bond has gotten on his current mission express from the American services, disparate from his time in France for the casino job where he had little but himself to count on and few perceptible privileges around to indulge in. The dream of anyone accustomed to travel, he even gets to speed right through the customs and security sections of the New York airport with little fuss.
As the chapter carries on we get big and small details about what is going on and Bond’s reactions to all of it. I particularly like the detail about how the Americans are funding Bond’s field account with money yielded from a past mission against the opposition, adding a nice flavor to the spy world Fleming is creating. You could absolutely picture something like that occurring, as it no doubt did and still is in the intelligence services of the world.
In another passage we are put inside Bond’s head as the Buick tears through New York, and the spy takes in all the sights on offer. He runs through the most interesting bits, utilizing his heightened observational keenness, and makes a clear case as to why he finds the states to be such a jarring and exotic place in comparison to his home base in London. Women driving cars with men in the passenger’s seat seem to be a big shock for him in particular, not least of which when he sees a black woman at the wheel speeding off behind him. It’s interesting to see Bond so gob-smacked, to feel like he’s in a completely different world, even though he’s just on the go in a western nation like his own. One particular detail that is quite chilling is when Bond comments about the big city being “the fattest atomic-bomb target on the whole face of the globe.” Not only did Live & Let Die prophesize the use of New York in endless streams of big blockbuster disaster films, it also conjures melancholic images of 9/11 and the consequences that can come from being such a national landmark as New York is for us Yanks.
The chapter comes to a close as Bond and Felix reunite again with great warmth, and we get a nice reference to the past casino job that the former would probably like to forget. Captain Dexter’s request to learn of what Bond knows of the mission sets up a very fluid transition into the past, as Bond makes his way out of his Chelsea flat in London and off to M’s office for his briefing on that very mission.
Chapter 2- Interview with M
Just as Live & Let Die‘s “The Red Carpet” was a sister chapter to Casino Royale’s “The Secret Agent,” the same is true for the former’s “Interview with M” and the latter’s “Dossier for M.” The main function of both is to feed us information on the mission Bond is on, and the big bad that he will be facing a bit later.
My issue with Casino’s briefing chapter was simple: I felt that Fleming rather sloppily pumped the text with the files on Le Chiffre and SMERSH instead of delivering that information in a less expositional and rough-handed fashion, through a talk between Bond and M where all we needed to know was delivered organically. I was happy to read Live & Let Die’s M briefing to find that Fleming had righted the past wrong he committed in his debut. Not only is this chapter better framed and delivered on the whole than the last, but the writer chooses to use the file on Mr. Big as a mere object in the scene, instead of as its absolute make-up. We are able to get all the information we need on the villain and the job at hand in the dialogue Bond and M have about the material, and the way Fleming frames it all makes it far more interesting to hear coming from M than it would be reading about a pirate treasure in a random file for eight or so pages. By delivering this information in a meeting between Bond and M we get the real-time reactions of them both to what is being gleamed, and it all has a greater sense of character to it because of that. In short, the briefing scene plays out as they do in the Bond films, a large point in its favor as it is the more consumable way to write a scene of this kind.
Elsewhere in the chapter Fleming does an interesting job of tying together Bond’s previous mission at the casino with the set-up for the Mr. Big job. M suggested that he take some time off months back, no doubt aware of the strain he was put through while facing Le Chiffre, and we find that Bond had been off the job from at least August to January. We also learn that the dreaded mark of the spy that a SMERSH operative scratched into his skin had been grafted over and was largely back to new. Bond’s memory of his torture and the mark assigned to him after it leads him into pondering the state of SMERSH since Le Chiffre’s slip up and all the consequence that mission bore. It seems that, with M calling Bond in for another job with so much time passed, he could be giving his agent the chance to make good on his promise to get back at the Soviet arm of vengeance. It’s quite interesting that M could be manipulating Bond’s past anger and commitment against SMERSH to this end, like a scientist wielding a decisive and finely tuned instrument.
The premise of the plot is the perfect example of how Fleming was able to take extraordinary elements and paint them in the world of the ordinary that Bond frequents. As we jet off to chapter three we know that a SMERSH operation concerning centuries old pirate treasure has kicked off that involves the United States and Jamaica in the conspiracy, possibly in a bid to strengthen the Soviet machine of fury in the star-spangled nation. Mr. Big is set up as the man behind it all, a Voodoo cult leader who has tricked his followers into believing his myth of fear built around the figure of Baron Samedi. Need Fleming say more?
Chapter 3- A Visiting-Card
Fleming starts up his third chapter by giving us a great sense of who Mr. Big is and why we should be worried about Bond through the tales of his villainous past. He’s immediately set up as a capable man with a long history of doing dangerous work well. The subtle implications of his great capacity for despair and deceit, like screwing over and killing his business partner to get the whole of the operation under his control, show us how adept Big is at silently working for his own gain. I found it an interesting and surprising detail that Big was even contacted and hired by the United States during the war, a job that put him in collision with a Russian agent he got friendly with while in France. I assume we are to take it that Big’s Russian colleague was the one that got him over to the Soviet side? If so, the Americans ultimately created their own future villain, a touch I like.
The most fascinating and powerful aspect of Big’s character is how he has manipulated a populace of people underneath him into believing he is Baron Samedi. It’s a genius power play and use of fear, and Big’s own skill at bumping off people in mysterious and ominous ways-like his old business partner-lend themselves well to the colorful acts of a Prince of Darkness like Samedi. His further acts under the Soviets, including a hit where he pushed a man in front of a subway train, create a great legend around him only spurred on by his litigious immunity from receiving punishment. He seems untouchable, by design.
In reflecting on Big, Bond does what Bond does and finds something to respect in his ability to manipulate and order people to his bidding, keeping his agents in line and loyal through the murders he commits against traitors or ill-performing disciples. Like the Samedi of legend, he digs graves and drags people to the underworld, his underworld. Bond seems to view some of Big’s mythic control as amusing, pointing out the ingrained gullibility of the black race, when in reality his time-as is ours in 2017-was full of people who held the same warped belief in a god reigning from the clouds. Big doesn’t seem to be manipulating one thick-headed race, just a thick-headed and gullible species in general.
Bond ultimately makes a great point in saying that Big and SMERSH are perfect for one another, as both are agents of fear that act quietly and with great methodology to get what they want. As the spy reflects on the man and the organization he’s part of you can feel his anger bubbling up from his time in France at the hands of Le Chiffre, and his memory of being branded by SMERSH. He is ready to prove his worth, and how much of a pain in the ass he can be to those who try to mark him for death. Mr. Big, eh? Fine, send your biggest, he seems to say. If he must send a message to them, why not do it through a “Homeric slaying” of SMERSH’s own giant figure of myth? James Bond, killing the returned and all-powerful Baron Samedi himself. How they’ll talk.
As the chapter goes on we get little details about what Bond has been doing since he arrived in New York. He’s gotten a bit of a haircut to appear more American and to fit his cover, and has been schooled in the Americanisms of “cabs” and “checks” as well as the monosyllabic responses to every question he receives. When picking out his suits, Bond chooses something fitting for him, but not too “dashing.” Like the Bond of the early films, he wants to look nice and fit in without becoming a fixture of attention himself. That does not a secret agent make.
The weirdest section of the chapter comes when Fleming, for whatever reason, includes passages from Patrick Leigh Fermor’s The Travellers Tree. This is another area where, as in many sections of Casino Royale, Fleming takes a different approach to the accepted framework of fiction writing and does his own spin on it. I guess the overall passages from Fermor are there to create an atmosphere of mood of fear and discomfort as we read descriptions of some voodoo ritual going on, but the section is quite over-long and Fleming does little to segue us into it. After a while the endless passages drone on and run together, losing the effect a more focused inclusion of the text could’ve had. I think it’s another example of Fleming failing to show us details in the narrative, relying too much on just feeding us endless streams of information through rampant telling. The desired effect is very diluted, and loses itself a bit.
The chapter finishes with redemption, when Bond comes face to face with the purported fear that Big can create and the power he holds to bring his enemies under. As a package arrives to the hotel, we get to see Bond gradually react to it: first he thinks it’s a bomb, which he responds to by jumping to the floor and seeking cover. Seconds after he derides himself for being a fool and overreacting, until he soon finds out that his fears were right on the money. Big’s message to him, of his heart beats being numbered, sets up a nice rivalry between the two as our spy very dryly describes the device as a “visiting-card,” connecting the moment to the whole theme of the chapter.
Chapter 4- The Big Switchboard
Live & Let Die continues to pick up speed as Bond plans ahead to a confrontation with Mr. Big. Fleming starts us off by showing Bond integrating himself into the scenery, trying his best to put on an American performance while enjoying the sights and the delicacies of the area. We get hints through his meeting with the New York police of a spot in St. Petersburg where Big’s boat the Secatur has often gone into port, making it clear where the action of the book will eventually take us. Through this information we get further hints of Big’s genius, as he has his operators communicate in an indecipherable Voodoo language to avoid any spying from outside forces.
The racial milieu of the time is referenced when Captain Dexter warns of a race riot after his colleague suggests they get Big on a more minor crime. The heated nature of the arrest and the man’s own power in the Harlem area would spell a great danger, especially with the anti-white viewpoint of the neighborhood.
Ultimately, Bond and Felix make plans to get in close on a trip into Big’s “backyard,” and in between their preparations for the voyage we get a few paragraphs that show us the situation from the villains’ perspective. Big, true to his name, knows that he is being watched and planned against, and sends out a notice for Bond, Felix and Dexter. It’s clear that his many eyes across the city will be watching, amping up the danger for our hero as he goes right into the lion’s den.
The chapter closes like a New York noir, as Bond compares the night to a book that would have to be “opened and read, page by page, word by word.” The rain beginning to pour over them becomes “italic script across the unopened black cover that hid the secret hours that lay ahead.” Fleming sets the tone for a seedy, danger-caked and likely regrettable night out for our heroes.
Chapter 5- Nigger Heaven
Despite the last chapter teasing more developments to come, I find the pacing slows considerably in this one and we’re left with pages that do little to establish the action ahead. We get hints that Big is planning for Bond and Felix to come to him, but beyond that the chapter is there for Fleming to indulge in some of his attention to detail about New York, and to paint the picture of Harlem. Beyond that we overhear an over-long discussion with a black couple, and essentially watch Bond and Felix do the American version of a bar hop with little spark in between.
The biggest slog of the chapter, and some of the rest of the novel, is in the exaggerated speech that Fleming gives his black characters. The use of regional dialects exaggerated on the page is a way for writers from all generations to create a certain sound for their characters’ dialogues, but this can often get very monotonous to read through. I think Fleming was partly attempting to set up the place Bond was in as he saw it by characterizing the Harlem population a certain way, but largely I think he was also trying to delineate Big from his workers and those he rules over. Whereas the vast majority of black characters we meet or overhear have an uneducated or highly cobbled together speech pattern, Big is a clear, erudite speaker who can communicate and relay information effectively. In a chapter where Bond picks on the black race once again for being too superstitious-while still admitting that the United Kingdom is full of similar fools-it makes sense that Fleming would also want to contrast this gullible populace with Big, the educated, sharp and capable man that has toyed with them all. I’d just argue that there were more interesting ways to do that.
One thing the chapter exceeds at is in framing the network Big uses to relay his information, showing us his power structure in Harlem and how protected he is. All of the characters working under him have colorful names- Whistler, Tee-Hee, McThing, Blabbermouth Foley, Sam Miami, The Flannel-giving the novel a very rich flavor aside from the overly emphasized bits above. If anything I am propelled back into it to see how Bond rubs shoulders with these kinds of characters in the next few chapters.
Chapter 6- Table Z
The centerpiece and most effective part of this chapter is how Big and his team set Bond and Felix up for a trap. The use of a sinking table for unwanted company is brilliant, but all the more so that the seizure of the unwanted parties is masked by a captivating nude dance that distracts and dazzles the audience long enough to dull their senses to what is occurring at Bond and Felix’s table. With the lights off as part of the performance, Big can get them out of there and none will be the wiser. It’s a great scene and you can only imagine the number of times that Big has used the exact same set up in the past to do in old rivals that moved in on his territory.
The dance itself is interestingly described, and Fleming may’ve been trying to capture the sort of esoteric and ritualistic captivation of the voodoo dance detailed in the section of The Travellers Tree that Bond found himself reading in an earlier chapter. The spy is clearly fixed on the dance, though it’s hard to say if that is for the sensuality of it, or by how much it reminds him of the macabre and strange dance he had a bad reaction to in the book.
The chapter leaves Bond and Felix hanging, with both men trying one last attempt to wiggle out of it, similar to Bond’s failed attempt before his torture in Casino Royale. The promise of seeing the spy meet Mr. Big for the first time in person and the conviction with which Bond wants to destroy him compels us to charge on.
Chapter 7- Mister Big
After much teasing, Fleming finally introduces us to the black-gray giant that is Mr. Big. The description of the man and Bond’s reaction to his exterior feel ripped from an old fable, where a knight comes into contact with the monster that he is obliged to slay. There’s an inhumanness about Big, that extends even beyond his ability to use supernatural means to gain power. I love the detail that Bond observes, thinking that Big “must have been bent since childhood on revenge against fate and against the world that hated him because it feared him.” While it’s difficult to say if Big had felt outcast as a boy, we do know from his file that he was always abnormally large and had carried that moniker all his life because of it. It would be interesting if it were confirmed, if only because to prove that the fear people felt for his outward appearance as a youth was ultimately turned to a fear they felt for the myth and power he represented. Working behind the tale of Baron Samedi, Big has finally found a purpose for the fear he creates in others and is no longer ashamed of it.
Through the details of Big’s room, we learn many interesting things about him. The entire set up of his office is such that he’s always surrounded by books, Fleming’s way of once again cluing us into the intellect he gives off and proves through his manipulations. Bond also notes how the room encasing him carries a neutral smell and is without a sign of vice, supporting the earlier content of his file that classified women as the villain’s only moral weakness. He even has a gun installed in his desk to leverage the status quo of every meeting in his favor, proving to Bond that, though his messages are theatrical and in touch with the Samedi character, Big is the real deal and can back up his threats with great diligence.
As the chapter comes to a close Solitaire is introduced for the first time, giving off a solitary nature fitting of her namesake. It’s hard to place her just yet; is she a bound slave, a willing associate of Big, or a bit of both? Big’s interest in her is quite disconcerting, wanting her more as an object to weed out liars in his ranks than as an actual partner. His scientific interest in seeing the product of their mixed race union is a detail of the bizarre right at home in a Fleming villain. The hints of warmth Bond seems to get from the girl appears to confirm to him that he has an ally in her, a presumption backed up when she goes along with his lie about what drove him to be in New York. Her role as a purported telepath is only minutely referenced, but is yet another element of the otherworldly or supernatural that Fleming pumps into Live & Let Die to mix with the realm of reality Bond frequents.
Chapter 8- No Sensayuma
The chapter begins with Bond essentially receiving the hard time that both he and Felix kind of deserve. They went right into Big’s territory with giant neon signs above their heads and were shocked when they ended up getting caught.
We get a great villain monologue from Big here, where he laments the acedia that he feels. He’s the king of his field in so many respects and has so much power that he quite literally couldn’t desire any more. He’s sort of like a gladiator who can best any fighter in the arena, their lack of challenge making them yearn for another purpose. The monologue also addresses a nice metaphor for Big’s schemes, whose execution and technical artistry he compares to paintings. He compares himself to Egyptian painters who toiled at their art knowing it wouldn’t be seen, and in this way we kind see that this man is already aware of the power and finesse he holds, and doesn’t need people to see it to have it confirmed. If he needed an audience to approve of him he wouldn’t be working behind the myth of Baron Samedi where he must play behind a curtain to run his affairs; he quite naturally understands that the best work can be done when one is unseen. He’s also the giant leader of a whole criminal network, and as the “don” he must remain at the back and let his soldiers fog him from view.
This chapter is partly jarring for how it portrays the first kill of Bonds in the series that we actually see. In the past novel we heard him detail his two kills that gave him his Double-O title and we know that he shared some of his missions with Vesper as they were bonding, but Live & Let Die is the very first moment where we’re actually with Bond as he takes out a man to survive. Some people I’ve talked to find this scene overly violent or shocking, but I think that’s the intention. Having not seen Bond kill before, there is a certain surprise to him going after his enemy, and secondly the man that he kills is one who got joy out of causing him extreme pain, with the promise of more. The spy was well within his rights to fight fire with fire.
The ensuing bit of action shows that Fleming can stage big sequences as tensely as the more quiet ones. Bond’s shootout in the garage and his tear away from the headquarters of Big is exciting and layered in danger, setting up a nice bit of respite from doom before more comes his way in later chapters.
Chapter 9- True or False?
The chapter begins by reacquainting Bond and Felix after their bouts for survival. I find it very amusing that Felix was able to escape a severe bludgeoning or worse simply by his love and knowledge of jazz, crafting a friendship with a common thug. It’s such a bizarre development.
That discussion then carries into Bond’s talk with M over the phone, where they use code to discuss how the mission is going. I always love sections like these in spy books, because they ground the story in the very real practices of spies transmitting information back to their home office.
We end with Bond having his third telephone discussion, a big theme of this chapter, with none other than Solitaire. It appears that she is in fact genuine about wanting to help Bond, and hopelessly begs to go along with him. Her situation-being used and abused by an organization and seeking suicide as a possible way to escape it-is very reminiscent of Vesper’s predicament in Casino Royale, purposeful on Fleming’s part or not. You wonder what Bond is thinking as he hears of her situation, and if it rekindles any thoughts of his past. I like that he tells a little lie, stating that they’ll be traveling to Washington instead of the true destination. The woman has no idea that Bond intends to continue charging at Big, instead of falling back or hiding away.
Switching to the perspective of the baddies again, we see how difficult it is going to be for Bond to sneak onto the Silver Phantom and speed out of town with every exit being blocked and/or surveyed.
Chapter 10- The Silver Phantom
As Bond races to the station to get aboard the Silver Phantom, we read on as random passersby in New York hide in wait as Big’s secret agents. His people are everywhere, from charity collectors to diner workers and train hands, again showing us how well connected he is.
This chapter is really most effective at building up Bond and Solitaire’s dynamic, and what kind of woman she is. I hate to say this, but it’s true: just the few pages of dialogue the pair share here has more chemistry and genuine care ingrained into their interaction than the whole of Vesper’s dynamic with Bond in Casino Royale. There’s a certain lightness and fun to Solitaire despite her situation that makes her very endearing, and she doesn’t fall into the pitfalls of Vesper by having a break down every second. She knows Bond’s world and what he must do to fight Big, and doesn’t get hung up about it or get in his way. She’s willing to help him, whatever he needs. It’s clear that her part in the adventure will actually make it easier for Bond, not harder, the exact opposite of the problem he had on his last mission and she’s agreeable enough to go along with what is needed.
I enjoyed reading about Bond’s imagined backstory of Solitaire’s, which he creates to explain her mystery. He’s quite visibly intrigued by her and looks forward to peeling back the layers of who she is, while most certainly viewing her as a sympathetic figure worth standing up for. It must also be said that he has a great interest in keeping her around for how badly it will offset Big, and take away his golden goose. As ever, Bond uses the woman to mix both his business and pleasure, achieving both goals at once.
It’s an interesting surprise that the chapter ends with Bond and the train porter becoming allies after the man informs the spy of coming danger. If there’s one thing that discounts Live & Let Die as a predominantly racist text, it’s in how Fleming frames so many of his black characters. Whether it’s the ebony dancers Bond and Felix crave and worship, the hired thug who actually spares Felix when they reach common ground or the very simple everyday porter looking out for his fellow man, these portraits of the race are far more encouraging and kinder than what you’d find in true racist texts, where all the black characters are portrayed as lesser or disgusting beings to push a propagandized message. As with all his writing, Fleming could show the best and worst of people from each walk of life.
Chapter 11- Allumeuse
Bond’s safe trip down to Florida soon grows quite a bit more complicated, causing him to orchestrate a change to his travel plans. It is clear that he and Solitaire must make an attempt to get off the train and cover their tracks by taking a different route, if they have any hope of surviving their voyage.
At the beginning of the chapter I was really intrigued by Bond’s discussion with Solitaire about Voodooism and Big’s use of fear tactics to gain power and loyalty. Despite not being a superstitious man himself Bond doesn’t deride or belittle the woman’s own beliefs and instead presses her for knowledge on how he can understand it better. Switching us briefly to Solitaire’s head, Fleming shows us the doubt she has in Bond’s ability to see what she has, for he has led a sheltered western life free from the omens and rituals she grew up on. The tale of her drinking a Voodoo drink alone is a black oddity, and could be the thing that she believes to have sparked her ability to read people so intensely. We see in her character the power of faith and how poisonous myths can be to an individual’s ability to perceive and act. Part of her believes the stories about Big and Samedi, causing her to doubt that he can be killed because she thinks he’s already dead according to legend. I guess that her belief in her own telepathy makes her see the world as more strange and mysterious than Bond, who writes off Big’s acts as fear mongering and not a true sign of the supernatural at play.
Bond and Solitaire’s intimate talk carries into an even more intimate embrace, as the pair grow closer together. I said in my Casino Royale analysis that Fleming could’ve written amazing erotic fiction, and that holds true here. He had the ability to avoid making these romance scenes smut or overly lurid, instead using the opportunity to build up the dynamic of these two. The scene is there less to give readers something to get hot and bothered about, and more to show us how Bond and Solitaire work off one another. It’s a scene very light and amusing, surprisingly, with Solitaire stating, “I hoped I would one day kiss a man like that,” as she pushes Bond away to get some air, and how Bond himself comments about her kissing him as if she was the man and he were the woman. The passion and frivolity is all over the scene, and their interaction feels genuine. It’s fitting that the name of this chapter is “Allumeuse,” because Solitaire is assuredly playing the part of the flirty but hard to get woman in a very self-aware fashion.
I stated in my Casino Royale analysis about how I hated the way Vesper was built up as a woman who treated her time with Bond like a game to be won, and with Solitaire in Live & Let Die I think Fleming created a far greater spin on this idea than before. Whereas Vesper was intent on charming Bond for the sake of it, to prove a point, Solitaire’s little teasing is built of real passion, a passion that she even prophesized having with Bond. All the games they play with each other are built out of a very real and mutual connection, and part of the great dynamic between them is the build up to that moment where Bond promises to take her with passion the moment his hand is healed up.
Bond and Solitaire also aren’t wasting company time to have a fling, they’re relaxing on the way to the next step in their journey and are using the time to get to know each other better. This is a far cry from how Vesper acts in Casino, who wants to play with Bond in the middle of the mission just as he’s preparing to go and play a game of baccarat that puts the strength of SMERSH’s coffers in the balance. The overall playful and genuine nature of how Bond and Solitaire’s dynamic is drawn is ultimately a refresher from the very artificial and bemusing relationship Bond and Vesper had, which I truly didn’t understand the purpose or attraction of. Like water and oil, the two were obviously not at all cohesive, even when putting the lying and double-dealing aside.
The chapter concludes with another great moment of fear from Mr. Big as he again delivers Bond a message of death through his agents (likely the waiter this time around). The text seems ripped from an old Haitian poem meant to spook people about Samedi’s power or something of that nature, but by this point the superstition is a bit worn on Bond.
Chapter 12- The Everglades
This chapter meshes a lot of the downtime of Bond’s job and the more tense bits extremely well, while also showing Fleming’s ability to be humorous. A surprising amount of this humor comes out of Bond and Solitaire’s poor dining experience as they wait for their next train. Bond’s horrified reaction to Florida’s label as the place people go to die is especially amusing (and still true to this day), as is his response to Solitaire when she frivolously suggests that they should retire to a graceful old life there. “I want a long time of disgraceful living with you first,” he says quite simply. Again, their interactions come from a genuine, playful and kind-hearted place, with neither party lying to the other.
We also get some hints of what Solitaire’s life is like under Big’s thumb, essentially a slave to his business. I like that she condemns men not by what they say (or if they lie) but instead by if they are good men. It explains why she stood up for Bond and lied for him when she knew he was deceiving Big, simply because she sensed that he was a good man there to help her.
Another perspective shift to Big’s men again shows us that Bond’s movements are still being watched, and that “The Robber” is going to make a move on him with a two-man team. When Bond and Solitaire meet with Felix we hear the sad news about the porter on the train, killed in an attempted assassination of the pair as the train came out of Jacksonville. It becomes clear how far Big is willing to go to silence his enemies, again backing up his threats with serious violence. At the end of the chapter Solitaire spaces out again as Bond and Felix talk, possibly getting a sense of misfortune to come. To save herself the anxiety, she may repress it.
Chapter 13- Death of a Pelican
This chapter’s big theme, evidenced by the title, is ominous and foreboding. We can immediately sense that Solitaire is having another vision of sorrow that is getting to her, and Bond trusts her enough to be bothered by it too. The death of the pelican at the end of the chapter, a symbol of self-sacrifice, again foreshadows a very doomed time for our heroes.
Through these gloomy events we get to see Bond and Felix bounce off each other. I didn’t have a strong reaction to Felix in Casino Royale and didn’t really get why he and Bond took such a liking to each other (similarly to Bond and Vesper), but in Live & Let Die I totally get it. The agent is extremely funny, wherever he comments about Florida’s “oldsters” making him want to jump in a tomb and pull the lid over it or how he playfully rags Bond about Solitaire’s lip-stick on his ear. But overall he’s just a supported friend to Bond and I love that they don’t let their profession get in the way of them having a laugh or enjoying each other’s company. So many of their colleagues think you must be all work and no play, but these two always leave some room to get to know each other and relish the quiet moments together. The experiences they share in this novel alone reinforce their friendship in all the other books, because you see the gradual formation of their strong bond each step of the way.
In many ways Felix is probably the only nice thing Bond takes away from the casino job and you can tell how much he appreciates having someone to work with that melds with him instead of hampering his momentum. Bond is not a team player in the field, preferring to go solo, so it says everything about Felix that the spy never complains when they are set up on a job together or when he actively volunteers for Felix to go with him.
Here they is!!
LIVE AND LET DIE
Edition I read: 1973 Pan, movie tie-in cover
Where I read it: Much of it in the bath, drinking gin & tonic, which is a good way to enjoy Bond.
James Bond
Bond has had a bit of a rest since the last book and seems fully recovered and ready for action, including action involving the opposite sex. Under it all, though, is his drive to damage Smersh.
He takes a lot of punishment, again, and the scene in which his finger is coldly broken is, for me, one of the most memorable in the book. For a movie action hero this would be pretty small beer, but here we get a realistic depiction of the pain and inconvenience involved (though, Bond being Bond, he still manages to perform various physical feats).
He likes fast cars and loves trains, like the small boy he is. Bless.
The villain
There are no physically ordinary villains in Fleming’s world. Mr Big is probably one of the closest to the norm, but Fleming never misses an opportunity to disconcert us with a description of his skin, eyes or head.
He is full of brilliant ideas, and I could happily read an entire second novel about his various criminal schemes.
I am obliged to point out that the pilot episode of Get Smart used Mr Big for its villain. He was, of course, a midget.
The girl
Solitaire is so strong and knowledgeable, and escapes from Mr Big so easily, that it's a wonder she hasn't got away before. She does seem to need a man, relying on Mr Big to get her out of Haiti and Bond to get her away from him in turn.
Her preoccupation with clothes and makeup after her near-death experience reads as a little patronising, but then if the passage were about Bond he'd no doubt be equally interested in cigarettes and a drink.
And she gets the last line. Is Fleming suggesting that she should go on top? Scandalous!
Other cast
My first reading of LALD was tinged with sadness, because I’d already read Doctor No so I knew what lay in store for poor, kind Quarrel.
I realise I have always rather pictured him played by Bill Cosby, with that air of quiet, humorous wisdom.
I had also met Felix Leiter in all his later one-armed glory, so the shock value here was lessened. But he’s such fun in the first half of the book - palling around with Bond, teasing him, and feeding him information - that it’s still sad to leave him in hospital at the end, even if the prognosis is good.
The Whisper. Tee-Hee. Poxy. These are Dick Tracy villains and I don’t find them terribly scary, but the image of Whisper at the switchboard, calling in the vast network of agents, is a striking one.
I’d forgotten all about Strangways, but what a good egg he is, quietly getting on with the mundane stuff so Bond can go and play hero. MI6 would fall over without chaps like him.
The plot
Using pirate gold smuggled in fish tanks to finance espionage. A girl with second sight. Feeding people to sharks. It should be ridiculous, but it all makes perfect sense. Seldom has my suspension of disbelief been so willing.
I’m glad some of this eventually turned up in Licence To Kill, because it’s far too good to waste.
If I were to poke one hole in the structure of the novel, I wish the damn paravane had got a mention earlier rather than coming out of nowhere.
The location
I've already said that my favourite Bond novels tend to be set in locations I'm familiar with, so the US and the Caribbean hold less appeal than CR's French seaside.
I like New York as seen from Bond's hotel room, though. Come to think of it, I always enjoy reading about Bond's hotel rooms; I love a good hotel stay myself, and Fleming really captures the promise of a new city and a new adventure.
The atmosphere of retirement community St Petersburg is weird and creepy, reminding us that sinister things happen in sunshine as well as shadow. Fleming clearly loves describing it, first through Solitaire's exposition and then through Bond's eyes.
I love the weird underwater world, with its macabre and comic touches: the stingray the size of a ping-pong table and the squid lining up in size order. Can such things really exist? Well, Fleming knew his underwater stuff, so it must be true.
Food & drink
Trust Bond to find the good stuff, and complain about the bad stuff, in a country not known for its cuisine.
Were French fried potatoes really that exotic? I’ve just looked it up and apparently we didn’t get McDonald’s in the UK until 1974, so maybe they were!
Bond is quite right about milk in scrambled eggs, ugh. Butter; eggs; salt; pepper; the end.
Miscellany
If Bond thinks US Customs is a ‘notorious purgatory’ in 1954, he ain’t seen nothing yet.
As early as page 2, Bond’s passport is taken away and he feels like ‘a negro whose shadow has been stolen by the witch-doctor’. Nice foreshadowing; his mind’s already on the case.
I thought this was SO FUNNY when I first read the book that I started saying ‘Actually’ at every opportunity. Move forward 20+ years and it’s become a verbal tic I can’t shake. Help.
I collect foreign Bonds, and own a French edition of LALD. One day I’ll attempt to read it.
From 1964, when there was only one screen Bond: