Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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17 of 18 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Something a bit different..., 18 Jun 2006
More than 50 years after the publication of Casino Royale and after many dozens of books analysing Ian Fleming's work (and the films) from almost every conceivable angle, it must be hard to come up with yet another perspective. In tying Fleming/Bond into a general ramble about Britain, the loss of Empire and the political landscape of the 50s/60s/70s, Simon Winder succeeds in this, and the book is a welcome, quirky addition to the list.
Sadly, it is let down by the type of errors which seem too easily to creep into so many books of this type. For example: Vivienne Michel (in The Spy Who Loved Me) was French-Canadian and not English, as Mr. Winder claims; in Casino Royale, Felix Leiter hands Bond an envelope stuffed with Francs, not Dollars; the third car in the chase from Kent to London (Moonraker) was an Alfa Romeo, not an Aston Martin; Sean Connery was not a former Mr. Universe; and so on.
Nit-picking this may seem, but such basic errors in research and/or proof-reading undermine the author's claims to know the subject and deflect the reader from following the serious points that are trying to be made.
The author's rather naive political viewpoint also comes to the surface a little too often, and grates, but, as he expressly acknowledges, he is certainly no historian and it's not enough to seriously spoil the overall effect.
The book follows no strict chronology, so it's easy to pick up and put down without losing the flow.
It's worth a read.
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11 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
A good but flawed account, 14 Aug 2006
Simon Winder has penned a diverting, often funny, if also flawed account of how the late Ian Fleming managed, through his creation of 007, to inspire and generally cheer up the Brits in the grey years after the Second World War. There is an awful lot of painful truth in his thesis, which is that a bitter, post-colonial Britain needed to hang on to myths, and Bond was such. Winder does all this with a lot of self-deprecating humour and detail. I loved his description of how Fleming - a much under-rated writer - brilliantly opened our eyes to things like the excitments of scuba diving or foreign travel.
There are also some problems with this book, however. Winder tacks to the left in his political views as far as I can tell and although I have no problem with that, it does get a bit tedious at times to have Guardian-Man sitting on your shoulder. He writes with priggish horror about the wealth and privilege of people like the Flemings, as if inheriting wealth is some sort of mortal sin. That Fleming smoked and drank heavily is revolting to the neo-puritan mindset of the early 21st Century, but is it so necessary to have this viewpoint thrust upon us?
I also demur about some of Winder's literary judgements. Moonraker, the third Bond novel, is one of my favourites precisely because it is set entirely in England. The plot may be silly, but silliness is not necessarily a problem so long as there is enough willing suspension of disbelief to carry the novel off. The gambling scene in that novel is one of the best things Fleming ever wrote.
It is interesting too that Winder regards Britain's imperial history as largely a matter of shame, even though other writers recently, such as Niall Ferguson, have revisited this topic to argue that the Empire had its good as well as bad side. He also takes a damning view of the Tory governments between 1951 to 1964, and tends to give a fairly free pass to the 1945-51 Labour Government, but history may be harder on the latter, given the decidedly questionable legacy of the NHS, nationalisation and crippling tax rates. As Winder himself writes, Britain had to beg for help from the IMF in 1976. That state of affairs was no freak accident.
Overall, I enjoyed the book but was a bit disappointed by the flaws and some of Winder's political bias. I would still say that the best way to find out about Ian Fleming and Bond is to read his marvellously entertaining books and also read Andrew Lycett's splendid biography written about 8 years ago.
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8 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Just as a corrective to the two above ..., 2 Jul 2007
Just finished this, and I don't even begin to recognise the books described by the first two reviewers. Winder sometimes writes scathingly about both Britain and Bond, true, but it always seemed quite clear to me that in both cases his criticisms had their roots in deep affection. (Even if that affection is sometimes analogous to the love you might feel for an eccentric aunt or scary Grand-dad.)
I've no interest in Bond, really, but the book was recommended by a friend (he also loved it) who thought it deserved to be read as an idiosyncratic, opinionated, funny, wistful and highly entertaining hybrid of the personal, the cultural and the political.
I can't help but agree. Perhaps - if you're easily persuaded that someone is anti-British, or if you're obsessive enough about Bond to argue with a dissenting fan - this isn't for you.
If you breathe less rarified air, though, I recommend you give it a go.
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