These are fun throwaway novels. Occasionally a really well-turned phrase, interesting settings, good plots and memorable villains. The book Live and Let Die is so much better than the movie featuring Roger Moore that I almost feel pity for my generation who grew up thinking that was James Bond. The allegedly racist parts of the novel ( the parts that are shortly to be sanitized ) aren't particularly racist, with the unfortunate exception of Chapter 5 (lamentably titled "Nigger Heaven"). This chapter is actually rather tone deaf: Fleming did not appear to know Harlem all that well, he attempts to write in a sort of dialect... He tried. It's presumably with the aim of creating what would feel like a thrilling, exotic atmosphere to his 1950s-era readers in England, but it's beyond his ability as a writer to do it convincingly. Notes: * "I smoke about three packs a day." The James Bond of the novels remains far more interesting than the modern smoke-fre...
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