The James Bond Saga

Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30769, 5 June 1965, Page 4

The James Bond Saga

The Man With The Golden; Gun. By lan Fleming.! Jonathan Cape. 221 pp. ! This book brings the adventures of James Bond up to a baker’s dozen. It is a twist of fate that it should appear posthumously for, despite his innumerable! denials. lan Fleming became! so identified with his creature; in the public mind that it would have been judged unthinkable that one should; have outlived the other. But! the myth of Janies Bond I lives on: and with the confer-! ring of the ultimate accolade; of a serious (sic) academic! study on the part of Kings-j ley Amis, not to mention films, clothing and male deo-' Idorants would appear to be about to become part of a world peopled formerly only, by Sherlock Holmes and possibly Philip Marlowe.

Given up for dead after his destruction of the loathsome Blofeld. Bond returns after two years absence, brainwashed by K.G.B. (initials are as much a part of the Fleming stock in trade, as they are of the Pentagon's) into the belief that he must assassinate the redoubtable Admiral Sir Miles Messervy —“M,” or “Mailedfist” as he likes to sign his cables. Failing in his attempt Bond is re—or perhaps “un” brainwashed and given the opportunity to redeem himself by putting an end to one Francisco “Pistols” Scaramanga —a former circus acrobat, mobster, free-lance killer, possessed of a third nipple about two inches below his left breast and a gold-plated, long-barrelled, single action Colt .45: his is indeed the fastest gun in the West Indies. With the scene set once again in the Caribbean (clearly Fleming's favourite trouble spot) events take their expected course, along with much double-talk, name dropping and dramatic confrontations. although critics will be pleased to note that sex and sadism are relatively, and noticeably, absent. In fact the whole business is pitched in a rather lower key than one Fleming-readers have become accustomed to but touches of the w'ell known techniques, so well displayed in "Moonraker’ and “From Russia With Love” remain. Certainly well up to the old standard are the early descriptions of the screening procedures of the Secret Service, which carry i ring of conviction if not oi truth, as does the psychologi cal dossier on Scaramanga compiled for “M” by “C.C." a former Regius Professor al Oxford. These are the details which lift Fleming above the ordinary run of the mill thril lev writers. They are details of that craftsmanship which cause the addicted thriller reader to return to the James Bond saga, even if at times he does so somewhat shame Ifacedly.