James Bond “Casino Royale” and “Live and Let Die”

I’ve been reading the original Ian Fleming James Bond novels in the original book order. Far less preposterous then the film version, but no less misogynist and racist, the books do give the reader a better glimpse of a hero that has, arguably, gone on to cast a massive shadow in both post-war literature and film. In fact, other than the Beatles, James Bond is Great Britain’s greatest export. Even watching the films is worthy of writing about, but let’s take a step even further back in time to look at Ian Fleming’s books.




Beginning in 1953 with “Casino Royale” (exasperatingly the last film in the series to date … but there is tons about that story on the internet) Royale does an early mystery genre (was spy thriller even a genre in ’53?) does best: sets up the characters, plots, and motivations. With James Bond in book form we are not given a character we have come to know from the films (no matter which actor plays him.) He is described as brutal and harsh, takes great pleasure in little details because he never knows when he might die, has a scar down the side of his face. There is very little of the debonair bon vivon, but more of a man of the edge of death.

If you’ve seen the film, then you know that the plot essentially revolves around Bond trying to outplay an international agent (in the book working for the Russians) to ruin and discredit him. The central action of the novel is in the casino and hotel, with the rather cruel torture happening just outside of the vascinity. The end seems a bit quick, but oddly leads us on to the next story (even though, at the time, Fleming had not thought to write one.)

“Live and Let Die”


1954 saw the character return and this one is kind of a powder keg if you don’t read it with the right eyes. The racism of the 1950s is really right up front as Bond journeys through the black underworld of Harlem, down to St. Petersburg, then on to Jamaica. Most of the film version is radically different than the book, but there are still a great many similarities. Bond never seems to be quite as racist as the book’s author (the, pardon me ... “nigger” descriptions are rather constant and there is even a chapter called “Nigger Heaven.”) But, I say Bond isn’t racist because he never seems to use the term and is in fact very much in awe of Mr. Big.

Mr. Big is running a rather sophisticated operation of removing buried treasure from Jamaica, getting it through customs in St. Petersburg, FL, and up into Harlem. Bond arrives in New York and is instantly embroiled in Mr. Big’s massive black spy network throughout Harlem. This is where Mr. Big puts the first squeeze on Bond, breaking his finger (Bond kills three of his guys in return.) Mr. Big’s power is largely created through his supposed voodoo connections and the superstitions of others. His affect is so powerful that even Bond gets a little freaked out (especially after his CIA pal Felix Leiter is disfigured in Florida.)

Since I used to live in the Tampa Bay area, I found the descriptions of the area remarkably similar to those I’d known in the 70’s and 80’s.


I’m currently reading “Moonraker” and it is far less ridiculous than the eventual film …