There have been 36 official James bond novels, 12 of which were written by Ian Fleming. While some of the books penned by other authors have been readable, I’ve never been particularly overwhelmed by any of the post-Fleming work. The best of them read like really good fan fiction; the worst are the ones where the author tries to reinvent the character and his world. To use an analogy to the films (based on popular opinion, albeit not one I share), the Fleming books are Sean Connery, the rest are bad Roger Moore .
Devil May Care by Sebastian Faulks was published on May 28th, 2008, on what would have been Ian Fleming’s 100th birthday. Hiring Faulks to write it was the first good move on this project; the man is a critically- acclaimed literary author rather than a pulp hack. Not that I have an issue with pulp hack, and not that bringing someone more accustomed to literature to an action-adventure franchise is without certain risks. What Faulks brings to the project is an eye for detail, a sense of pacing and character, and an obvious understanding of Fleming’s work. Rather than settling for homage, or trying to transform Bond into his own image, Faulks write in his own style yet keeps Fleming’s sensibilities. Faulks writes a tennis match between Bond and the mastermind villain, for instance, that is gripping. I could not imagine it translating well to film, at least not without losing much of its intensity. That a scene could be written about tennis, making it as exciting as any car chase or gun battle, but while retaining the feel that it’s genuine Bond, is an accomplishment.
The next thing that was done right on this project was keeping the story in the 1960s, where Bond stories should be set. The villain has a rare medical condition — likely made up, but presented so well that it feels entirely credible — that leaves him with an interesting deforming. The villain also has interesting motivations and goals, which is always important as Bond works best as a character when he has someone worthy to play off of. The “Bond girl” of the piece, to lift terminology from the films, is as layered and compelling a character as the villain. Most attempts to insert a strong, female character into the mysogenistic world of Bond have failed, either by having the character turn into a fainting maiden in the end or making her a ball-breaker (although this works perfectly for Judi Densch in the films, she’s also M and not by any stretch a typical “Bond girl”). Some female characters have even overshadowed Bond, which smacks of Mary Sue-ism.
The plot fits right in with the best of Fleming. While it resonates with current events, it’s not any sort of nudge-nudge wink-wink allegory; it’s more of an historical look at what was going on in the Middle East in 1967, and one can see how that resonates with the current situation in Iran and Iraq. There’s a twist at the end that I should have seen coming, and it was well-foreshadowed, but would work well even if you did figure it out on your own.
This book is tight. This book is better than some of the Fleming stuff. I dare say, this might actually be the best Bond novel ever written and that’s something I’m incredibly reluctant to say even though it’s true. It’s definitely worth checking out.
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