Like any American growing up with a father and brother, I am familiar with the James Bond movies. I even had a brief thing for Pierce Brosnan at 14. So this year I figured I should read at least one of the books. Casino Royale happens to be the first in the series and gave rise to an excellent movie adaptation.
I started off really enjoying this book. Fleming is very good at conveying mood, and he has a gift for moving the plot swiftly. I would look back and wonder how so much had happened in just a few pages without me feeling rushed. I could have really like this book and wanted to read more had it not been for the “love interest”.
I wasn’t bothered so much by the woman herself. I read old books, so I’m used to the weak heroine or the useless woman. It sucks, but I’m used to it. What unsettled me was the attitude Bond took towards her. I was expecting sexism (it was written in the 50s, after all) but it was so over-the-top, edging into misogyny. Bond veered between feelings of resentment and severe dislike for this woman trying to do “a man’s job” (his quote, how original) and wanting to fuck her. Pardon my language but that’s what it was. I shouldn’t even say “veered” really, as those feelings were uttered in the same sentence or thought throughout the book. There were referenced to Bond wanting to spank her, but as a form of punishment. He thinks to himself that because he doesn’t fully know her inner thoughts, whenever they have sex it will have “the sweet tang of rape”.
I read the whole book, but it left me feeling a little disturbed, and not wanting to read more if this is what I will get. It’s a real shame, because I wanted to like these books.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
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