The Spy Who Loved Me – Ian Flemming
Shesh! Book reviews galore. Looks like I’ve been having too many boring drives home. Anyway, on to a new book: one of Ian Flemming’s James Bond stories.
This one is “The Spy Who Loved Me”. It was another short read at 6 discs, or about 5 days of commuting. If you’ve never had the honor, you should really read one of Ian Flemming’s Bond books. The first thing you’ll note is that the movies have just about nothing to do with the stories they are named after. Sure, there is a character named James Bond who is a spy; a damsel in distress, some evil characters, but that’s where things depart.
In this case, we have the story of a young French Canadian who is working her way across country doing odd jobs as she goes to pay the way. As our story starts, she is working at a vacation motel at the end of it’s season. On the last night, some unsavory gentlemen appear as does James Bond (by pure chance). Bond’s debonair manner and gunplay ensue as he and our night clerk try to figure out and foil our villains’ evil plot without getting killed. Being a short book, all the adventure really takes place at this one motel There’s no evil mastermind plotting to destroy the world or counterespionage intrigue. Just a great little compact story of an adventuresome night spent at a motel.
And for that, it’s a great little story. Sure, it’s a bit dated with the girls being called dolls and whatnot, but it’s still a pretty good story overall. Unlike a number of other Bond books, this one doesn’t have as much blatant bigotry you’ll find in some of Fleming’s other novels. Instead, you get a good little story with some tight action sequences and a good finish. I enjoyed it.
While nothing earth-shattering will happen here, but it’s still an enjoyable little pulpy adventure. I give it a B.