May. 21st, 2004

layla: grass at sunset (Default)
Revisited one of my old obsessions today ... I had a 20% off Borders coupon, so of course I had to use it, and picked up a copy of Casino Royale, the first of Ian Fleming's Bond novels.

I read almost all of them in college, but it's been so long that I remember very little, except to groan, "It's a trap you fooooool" at opportune moments. I never liked the movies much, but I do like the books. They're much more realistic, for one thing ... at least the early ones; I seem to recall some really over-the-top stuff happening later on. What really surprised me, the first time I read the books, is how likeable the book version of Bond is. He may be all suave and sophisticated on the surface, but underneath, he's one messed-up sonovabitch who's stuck doing Britain's dirtiest work, and the worst part is, he knows it. I seem to spend half the time wanting to smack the snot out of him for being so insufferably arrogant, and the other half wanting to give him a hug and make the hurting stop.

... which seems to be what happens to any woman who comes within a hundred yards of him in the books, too.

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layla: grass at sunset (Default)
Layla

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