Scan barcode
A review by jakekilroy
Casino Royale by Ian Fleming
4.0
It's funny to read the origin book of a cinematic franchise that's been running 65+ years without any signs of slowing down. Yet there are character differences here that may not be all that different, but rather a separation of mannerisms. There's more charisma to the Bond of screen, whereas the Bond of page is more straightforward (at times almost curmudgeonly). There remains subtly for each version, though it's more that we don't get an internal monologue in the movies and there's less high action in the book.
One point is that Bond in book form is sexist in a way that is practically a caricature by now, and it seems to set him up for failure by way of arrogance. He never overlooks the men, naturally, seeing them as calculated as he is. But, for Bond, women are destined for his other realms (home, bistro, nightclub, etc), so being out and about in the tumble of the espionage world is probably too much for them in his eyes—and that, of course, sets up a rather monstrously sized blind spot. It makes "send in the hot girl" a legitimate strategy for Bond's many villains. It's not that he'll be wooed and distracted; it's that, to Bond, they couldn't possibly be a threat.
As a reader, you're not even invited to like Bond the way you do in the movies. Here, he's at times purposefully tedious. I recall once reading a quote from Fleming: "I wanted Bond to be an extremely dull, uninteresting man to whom things happened." Fleming even named him "James Bond" because he though it was the dullest name he ever heard (borrowed from an ornithologist). So it fits him! In the movies, Bond enters a room and you can practically hear the record scratch of swoons. In the books, at least this inaugural outing, Bond's like a traveling salesmen on a business trip (who just happens to be a spy with a kill count). He's good at what he does and he's just trying to close the deal. It's a lot of fun; it's just more A to B without the glory of his film legend.
One point is that Bond in book form is sexist in a way that is practically a caricature by now, and it seems to set him up for failure by way of arrogance. He never overlooks the men, naturally, seeing them as calculated as he is. But, for Bond, women are destined for his other realms (home, bistro, nightclub, etc), so being out and about in the tumble of the espionage world is probably too much for them in his eyes—and that, of course, sets up a rather monstrously sized blind spot. It makes "send in the hot girl" a legitimate strategy for Bond's many villains. It's not that he'll be wooed and distracted; it's that, to Bond, they couldn't possibly be a threat.
As a reader, you're not even invited to like Bond the way you do in the movies. Here, he's at times purposefully tedious. I recall once reading a quote from Fleming: "I wanted Bond to be an extremely dull, uninteresting man to whom things happened." Fleming even named him "James Bond" because he though it was the dullest name he ever heard (borrowed from an ornithologist). So it fits him! In the movies, Bond enters a room and you can practically hear the record scratch of swoons. In the books, at least this inaugural outing, Bond's like a traveling salesmen on a business trip (who just happens to be a spy with a kill count). He's good at what he does and he's just trying to close the deal. It's a lot of fun; it's just more A to B without the glory of his film legend.