(Bond’s reflection on the “sweet tang of rape” really threw me.) But I was nonetheless intrigued by Vesper Lynd’s character and the sway she holds over Bond in this title. There are well-known aspects of Fleming’s approach to writing women that don’t age well and that I must confess sometimes gave me pause as I read. I must now confess to feeling rather chagrined after reading Casino Royale and being so pleasantly surprised by it on several levels. So for decades, I’d been estranged from a reading experience that has no doubt inspired countless writers to do great things. He had wonderful cars, high-tech gadgets, and an envious lifestyle but exhibited little of the depth, nuance, and ability to surprise that I’ve enjoyed so much in the work of other spy writers such as John Le Carré, Daniel Silva, and Olen Steinhauer. He seemed immune to fear and impervious to pain and possessed enough skill and luck to come out ahead in just about any skirmish, no matter how threatening his adversary. The film Bond I know was a charming but rather smug, one-dimensional character. So I took the plunge and got hold of Casino Royale, the 1958 debut title of the series. The wall came down entirely when I came across a reprint of a fascinating 1963 article written by Fleming on how to write a thriller. It was the somewhat formulaic nature of the stories and lack of character depth in those movies that led me to the erroneous assumption that the books were probably not especially good.īut my resolve began crumbling when I heard Ken Follett credit the series as part of his inspiration to take up writing. I loved the movies of the Sean Connery and Roger Moore era but, unimpressed by a later book in the series (written by one of four authors who took the helm after Fleming died), decided that Bond was a character best enjoyed on the screen. Up until last week, one notable blind spot in my reading life was Ian Fleming’s James Bond series.

The casino royal graphic novel