This novel drags for the first third, but then the good ol’ 1950s spy thriller cheesiness really kicks into gear and we’re off for another entertaining Bond adventure. Though he was slightly less of a douche-canoe this time and there was a lot more action than in Casino Royale, I actually found the baccarat game more thrilling to read about.
I’m still struggling to divorce the books from the movies. Thanks to being raised by a Bond-loving father, I fear my mental image of Bond will continue to shift between the actors who have played him. Oh well. Alternately picturing Daniel Craig, a young Sean Connery, etc., won’t do me any harm.
In the meantime, watch out for trapdoors and don’t disagree with sharks.