Books I've never read (but everyone else has)
Casino Royale is a shady, smarmy, episodic piece of Awesome.
So in 1953, an ex-British navy intelligence officer had a book published about the adventures of a secret agent that would habitually save the world, indulge in meaningless sex, and enjoy the occasional witty (if not slightly morbid) repartee. I'm talking about Ian Fleming's James Bond, secret agent 007 with a license to kill. The thing is... all of these aspects we associate with James Bond are a product of the movies, not the actual novels.
Fleming's James Bond is far closer to Timothy Dalton's Bond in The Living Daylights and License to Kill, than to Connery's devil may care secret agent of Diamonds are Forever. Bond is open about his amorous desires for sex, and Fleming describes the curvature of women's breasts and buttocks in sufficiently titillating fashion (although far less erotically than anything you'd find in a modern pot-boiler murder mystery or see on your average episode of CSI: Miami). However, Bond himself is largely monogamous. In Casino Royale he desires one women and sleeps with one women (similar to Dalton in The Living Daylights). Bond does not have a large assortment of gadgets from MI5. He has a gun, a car (that he bought himself and maintains himself), and his own wits. He has personal quirks and habits. He has NO friends, only people he's liked working with.
By the way, the car that James Bond takes such pride in driving in Fleming's novels is a 1933 Bentley.
Not the Astin Martin db5.
The films did get two things right: James Bond is the best shot in the service, and he has a particular sense of style. One of the great things about Casino Royale is that Bond gives an excellent reason for his meticulous drink ordering and specific desires for food. So much is out of his control; he spends so much time following half-worked out hunches based on the flimsiest of evidence, not to mention that people are constantly trying to kill him, that being particular about his drinks is one of the few things in life he can take great satisfaction in.
Hence the signature James Bond drink: The Vesper.
- "A dry martini," [Bond] said. "One. In a deep champagne goblet."
- "Oui, monsieur."
- "Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?"
Casino Royale is the first James Bond novel. The first chapter is entitled, The Secret Agent, important so that we know exactly what we're reading. It's a book inspired by Dashiell Hammett stories, W. Somerset Maugham's Ashendon, and the adventure stories of Fu Manchu. Interestingly, despite these obviously boyish influences, Fleming believed he was writing stories for adults. Well thank God that didn't happen. James Bond is a character that men like because he is SO profoundly male (The books make him far more chauvinistic than the films, which is the one part of the stories that feels dated). Bond partitions everything in his mind. He gets a massage so he can think about Baccarat. When he's playing baccarat he's not thinking about the beautiful agent Vesper Lynd. When he's with Vesper, he has difficulty thinking about anything else and must find a different corner of his mind for her in order to do his job. I don't think this is necessarily a healthy aspect of Bond's character, but it is a sacrifice he must make - a little bit of his humanity - in order to serve the greater good of society at large.
The book focuses around a high stakes game of Baccarat that Bond must play with the Russian spy Le Chiffre. Le Chiffre is one hell of a card player, but he was financing French Brothels with Soviet funds. Laws were changed, he lost a fortune, and must get the money back in the coffers of the USSR, before they kill him. Bond must keep this from happening because Le Chiffre is a dangerous threat to the English Secret Service, having killed numerous agents.
A quick note about Baccarat: It is played at a table similar to black jack.
The goal of the game is to get as close to 9 as you can. 10's and Face cards are worth 0. All other cards are face value. When you add up your cards (you start with 2 and can have 1 additional card) you only use the digit in the one's column. So a 3, a 4, and an Ace adds up to 8. While a 6, a 5, and an 8 equals a 9 (6+5+8 = 19, but you ignore the 10's column, technically called the modulo because you've divided the number by 10 and only count the "remainder"). Betting is complicated, and you can bet against the bank, on a player, blah blah blah. But now you can know why Bond wins when he wins.
As Bond prepares for the game against Le Chiffre he meets Vesper Lynd
The real craft of Fleming was his pacing. His story moves along at break-neck speed, taking his reader into a world that is largely unknown: the world of the gentleman secret agent. He never talks down to his readers. Instead he assumes you are smart enough to keep up, while at the same time he takes the time to explain the details and minutiae of Bond's world. Bond gives an excellent explanation of the rules of Baccarat, so that we are able to follow what is happening during the game. At the same time, the novel is told from a limited third person point of view. We have complete access to Bond's thoughts and motivations, but that is all. This is standard for detective stories, but in the complex world of Bentley's, cards, and espionage it is a vital way of feeding the reader exposition while maintaining that brisk pace.
If you're looking for a good lark, I highly recommend this cloak and dagger thriller. It's a great paperback ride. I wouldn't recommend it for a book club or a subject of discussion, but if you just want to escape into a a glamorous adventure, then look no further.
Thanks for reading,
The Giant
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