Less pulp fiction and more inside the head of James Bond, we are literally alone for much of the book with Bond and his thoughts. This helped him to avoid staleness and the sensual bluntness that breeds mistakes. He always knew when his body or his mind had had enough and he always acted on the knowledge. James Bond suddenly knew that he was tired. Then the soul-erosion produced by high gambling–a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension–becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it.

The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning. The description is both vivid and gripping, as Bond speaks to us as an expert player: This apparently self-knowing and weakened Bond is a sign of things to come. Despite the glitz and glamour, it’s all slightly seedy at decaying 3am – Bond is able to step away, to literally melt into the background scene, grudgingly reluctant to see Le Chiffre carry on winning. It also has a brilliant opener – the alliteration (a power of 3 my inner GCSE English teacher spotted delightedly) is so atmospheric.Īs a reader you are plunged straight into the thick of things, the action, even the smoky and somewhat stale backdrop. Bond is weary and has stopped, to watch Le Chiffre continue to win. The novel begins with Bond in a casino, observing Le Chiffre at play. No brainer those of you who already knew that, might say – tell us something we didn’t already know? But read on and enjoy more reverse culture shock… Expect the Unexpected Now in revisiting this book for Bond’s 70th, I’m shocked – I liked it, I even enjoyed most of it! Albeit that there are some challenging and downright unpleasant parts for a woman reader, I liked a Ian Fleming Bond book!

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