Well, as I mentioned last week, I dug my claws into some Ian Fleming James Bond, in large part because I’m interested in writing espionage fiction, and thought it wouldn’t hurt to get real with the most famous archetype.
As I mentioned then, I was finding Diamonds Are Forever to be better than I expected, and was finding it a good ride. The writing was stripped down (except when it came to a meal), it moved along at a nice click, and I liked that Bond wasn’t the all-knowing god he tends to be in the films.
But then, well, it started to drag a little bit. Maybe it was my knowledge of the film, which I enjoy, but it started to feel like a regular ol’ boys’ adventure story. Not a lot more. (Despite the rather cool detail that poor Felix Leiter is now working for Pinkerton because the CIA sent him to a desk after he had to have his hand replaced with a hook!)
So I decided to do a little research.
I read on some site that Diamonds was considered the weakest of his earliest Bond books, while From Russia With Love (which happens to be my favorite Bond movie) is the strongest of the earlier ones. So, ready to be wowed, I quickly finished reading Diamonds and turned to Russia.
my next book
sixties’ spy