The James Bond Bedside Companion (30 page)

A major theme in the book is that of gambling—not only in the casino, but also in the form of risk-taking in crisis situations. When Vesper wishes Bond good luck before his baccarat game, he replies that he doesn't believe in luck—he needs to depend on life without it. "I only bet on even chances, or as near them as I can get," Bond says. Contrary to this assertion, Bond gambles on some rather
uneven
chances throughout the story. When he is down to his last sixteen million francs, Bond takes the risk of challenging Le Chiffre again. This time he loses everything. Felix Leiter, however, saves the day with the CIA's gift of thirty-two million francs. Bond takes another chance in pursuing the Citroen after Le Chiffre abducts Vesper. He knows very well the risk he is taking—he even considers letting the kidnappers go, which would serve Vesper right for allowing herself to be tricked and captured. But Bond ultimately follows them and winds up trapped in the villain's clutches as well.

Another theme in the novel is the constant questioning of what is Good and what is Evil. As Bond is recovering in the hospital after his ordeal with Le Chiffre, he relates a philosophy to his French friend Mathis:

"For those . . . jobs I was awarded a Double 0 number in the Service . . . A Double 0 number in our Service means you've had to kill a chap in cold blood in the course of some job . . . that's all very fine—the hero kills two villains; but when the hero Le Chiffre starts to kill the villain Bond and the villain Bond knows he isn't a villain at all, you see the other side of the medal. The villains and heroes get all mixed up.

(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 20)

Here, Bond is doubting his profession to the extent that he considers resigning once he returns to London. Mathis laughs at Bond and assures him that he's only imagining things. Once he has recovered, Bond will want nothing more than to go after SMERSH simply for the principle of saving his loved ones from evil. Mathis is proven right.

CHARACTERS

B
ond is
entirely humorless in this first novel, and he treats his job with conviction and importance. He wants nothing to do with Vesper Lynd at first, and only toward the end of the novel does he loosen up in her presence. His male chauvinism is at its strongest in CASINO ROYALE. Bond isn't happy with being assigned a partner in the first place, and his frustration is further enhanced when he learns that the partner is a woman. When Vesper is kidnapped by Le Chiffre, Bond loses all patience and thinks:

These blithering women who thought they could do a man's work. Why the hell couldn't they stay at home and mind their pots and pans and stick to their frocks and gossip and leave men's work to the men? And now for this to happen to him, just when the job had come off so beautifully: for Vesper to fall for an old trick like that and get herself snatched and probably held to ransom like some bloody heroine in a strip cartoon. The silly bitch.

(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 15)

Nevertheless, Bond winds up falling in love with Vesper, and his thoughts turn completely around:

But somehow she had crept under his skin, and over the last two weeks his feelings had gradually changed.

He found her companionship easy and unexacting. There was something enigmatic about her which was a constant stimulus. She gave little of her real personality away, and he felt that, however long they were together, there would always be a private room inside her which he could never invade. She was thoughtful and full of consideration without being slavish and without compromising her arrogant spirit.

(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 23)

After thinking this, Bond walks into his room to find his bath prepared. He says to Vesper, "Darling, the bath's absolutely right. Will you marry me?" Though this is said in jest, at the end of this chapter Bond decides:

That day he would ask Vesper to marry him. He was quite certain. It was only a question of choosing the right moment

(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 24)

But, once Bond discovers that Vesper was in reality a double agent working for the Russians, he pushes away the love he felt and hardens his heart. (He sheds tears as well.) Making a call to headquarters to inform the authorities that she was a traitor, he says, "Yes, dammit, I said 'was.' The bitch is dead now."

The "bitch," Vesper Lynd, makes a startling impression on Bond. She has black hair and blue eyes, and she carries herself with confidence and professionalism. As a character, she is fairly interesting but is not as three-dimensional as subsequent female figures in Fleming's books; she is one of the author's lesser female efforts. Vesper is cold and sterile, in much the way that Bond is. Maybe this is inherent in women working for the law. (Gala Brand in MOONRAKER, a policewoman, is also very stiff.) Vesper does seem braver in moments of danger than other heroines, but she falls apart toward the end of the novel once she realizes that SMERSH is on to her. Her character is out of step with the other Bond-girls in that she manages to wrap Bond around her little finger in the last third of the story. He falls for her, and falls hard. She begins dictating the rules of the relationship: he sees her when she's ready to be seen, and he leaves when she orders him from her room. Her suicide is a bit melodramatic—surely if Vesper had told Bond the truth about herself, he might have gotten her to safety. But the ending as Fleming wrote it emphasizes the melancholy, cynical, and bitter mood of the novel.

Le Chiffre is an ugly and perverted villain, and one of Fleming's lesser creations. His role in the story is small, but his nastiness is underscored enough to make a lasting impression on the reader. The image of the man sitting at the baccarat table and using his Benzedrine inhaler in public is quite repellent. The torture scene is particularly effective, as he calmly assures Bond that the game of "Red Indians" is now over. Repeating the phrase, "My dear boy," as he speaks, the character begins the typical fatherlike treatment of the "bad boy" Bond. (Supposedly, Fleming picked up the "My dear boy" expression from his friend Noel Coward, and used it as a joke.) Le Chiffre is the only villain in the series to be killed by his own people.

M's role in this first novel is a small one. The reader learns that he is Bond's superior, and that the agent respects him a great deal. The only character traits mentioned are that M is very businesslike and rather crusty.

Two familiar characters of the series, René Mathis of the Deuxieme and Felix Leiter of the CIA, are introduced in this story. Mathis is an old acquaintance of Bond and is the primary ally. His character is interesting simply because he is the only one in the book who has a sense of humor. Mathis is very helpful, and he seems to understand what Bond is going through during the recovery process in the hospital. He succeeds in lifting Bond's spirits when the agent is morose and bedridden.

More important, though, is Bond's encounter with
Felix
Leiter, the CIA agent from Texas who will accompany the Englishan on further adventures. Leiter is amiable and boyish, and Fleming succeeds in giving the character a personality that is distinctly American. Leiter performs the important function of fulfilling Bond's need for male friendship. Not much else is revealed about Leiter's character in CASINO ROYALE, but he is an immediately likeable figure. Fleming was wise in using Leiter as the "cavalry to the rescue" when Bond loses all his money at the baccarat table.

HIGHLIGHTS AND OTHER INGREDIENTS

A
notable element of CASINO ROYALE is the opening chapter, which creates a compressed view of James Bond's special world. A mood is established that surrounds the central character throughout the novel. At the end of this chapter, Bond slips into bed with his gun under the pillow—a nice touch, and a wonderful hint of the stringent discipline with which Bond will approach his job.

The highlight of the novel is, of course, the baccarat game. Fleming is particularly masterful in describing gaming contests, and the sequence is exciting. Even if the reader is unfamiliar with baccarat, Fleming makes it easy to follow the rudiments and subtleties of the game. The author intensifies the suspense of the sequence by allowing Bond to lose three consecutive hands before Leiter comes to his rescue.

The carpet-beater torture scene is both ingenious and revolting. Bond is tied naked to a chair with an opening in the seat. Le Chiffre sits next to Bond with a carpet beater in his hand. The paddle is placed under the open seat of Bond's chair, and Le Chiffre holds the handle over his knee. With a flick of the villain's wrist, the carpet-beater slams into Bond's buttocks and genitals. The reader can feel Bond's senses being ravaged by the pain; indeed, the agent will never undergo such a fiendish torture again (except, perhaps, for the one in COLONEL SUN). Critics have accused Fleming of being overly sadistic here, an indictment that is a testament to the scene's disturbing effectiveness.

One criticism of the novel could be that Fleming is rather pretentious in his use of the French language and the trappings of the elite, rich world of gambling casinos, expensive food, and beautiful women. But then, all of the Bond novels have this—it is a basic element of the author's style. Another criticism is that Bond himself is much too stonelike in this adventure. Subsequent novels improve on this, and Bond does
become more human—even developing something of a sense of humor, which is totally absent here. Perhaps he takes Mathis' advice at the end of Chapter 20 to heart: to surround himself with human beings.

After all is said and done, one can argue that CASINO ROYALE is an extremely impressive first novel. A distinctive style is immediately apparent, and the narrative moves with uncompromising speed and conviction. It is one of the best of the adventures, capsulizing Bond's world into an intense, fascinating, and moody piece of fiction.

F
leming's second novel, LIVE AND LET DIE, improves upon CASINO ROYALE in many ways. First, the Fleming Sweep is at full force; here is perhaps the best example of this stylistic element. Second, Fleming uses even greater detail in descriptions of environments. More care seems to have been taken in revising and polishing. Finally, LIVE AND LET DIE contains one of Fleming's best plots, full of very exciting sequences. The novel is a little dated today (especially in its treatment of blacks) and is weak in terms of characterization. But the story is hard-hitting and violent in a way that none of the others are.

The story concerns Mr. Big, a powerful black businessman believed to be a member of SMERSH. Recently, gold coins from a seventeenth-century pirate hoard have been turning up in pawn shops and banks in Harlem and Florida. The source is thought to be a treasure hidden in Jamaica by the English pirate Bloody Morgan. M suspects that the pirate treasure is being used to finance the Soviet espionage system in America, and that Mr. Big is the man behind the smuggling operation. James Bond's investigation takes him from New York to Florida, where he and CIA agent Felix Leiter discover Mr. Big's United States port of entry for the smuggling. After Leiter is severely mutilated by a shark, Bond travels to Jamaica alone. He makes an underwater swim to locate Mr. Big's hideout, but is discovered by Mr. Big's men. 007 and the heroine, Solitaire, are tied together and dragged through the water behind Mr. Big's boat; but before their bodies are torn to shreds by a coral reef, a limpet mine previously planted by Bond destroys Mr. Big's boat. The pirate hoard is recovered and M grants Bond a "passionate leave," which will naturally be spent with Solitaire.

STYLE AND THEMES

L
IVE AND LET DIE is longer than CASINO ROYALE, but moves just as quickly. The chapters are again short and compressed, almost always ending with hooks to lead the reader to the next Fleming builds suspense with a masterly touch as Bond follows Mr. Big's frail to the Isle of Surprise. Since it is known very early that Mr. Big is the villain and is certainly behind the gold smuggling operation, the suspense comes in Bond's piecing the clues together; getting out of one scrape and into another; and moving forward toward the final confrontation with Mr. Big. The Fleming Sweep never achieves a more engaging rhythm and flow than here.

I
f CASINO ROYALE was abundant with detail, LIVE AND LET DIE takes the descriptive writing a step further by incorporating more exotic locales. Fleming's chronicle of the underwater world in Chapter 19 is vivid and awesome. Critics have always mentioned that the author's descriptive powers are most effective in describing gaming contests and life in the sea. Fleming's picture of America in the fifties is also very interesting and sometimes amusing:

It was no waste of time to start picking up the American idiom again: the advertisements, the new car models, and the prices of second-hand ones in the used-car lots; the exotic pungency of the road signs: SOFT SHOULDERS—SHARP CURVES—SQUEEZE AHEAD—SLIPPERY WHEN WET; the standard of driving; the number of women at the wheel, their menfolk docilely beside them; the men's clothes; the way the women were doing their hair; the Civil Defense warnings: IN CASE OF ENEMY ATTACK KEEP MOVING—GET OFF BRIDGE; the thick rash of television serials and the impact of 1'V on billboards and shop windows; the occasional helicopter; the public appeals for cancer and polio funds; THE MARCH OF DIMES—all the small fleeting impressions that were as important to his trade as are broken bark and bent twigs to the trapper in the jungle.