To be clearer, the misogyny in the novel is somewhat overwhelming. Indeed, having access to the internal monologue of Bond’s thoughts proves an unwelcome intrusion into a world shrouded not so much by moral doubt as by confused gender politics. And, much to my dismay, I discovered that Fleming’s Bond is perhaps even more shallow than the one frolicking across the world on the silver screen. So I was interested to see what depth, if any, the book lent the character. I’ve seen my share of the films, and was blown away by the reinvention of the series by 2006’s Casino Royale prequel, starring Daniel Craig as a more human and emotional Bond. I recently had the opportunity to read Casino Royale (1953), the novel by Ian Fleming that started the franchise that has since spawned over 20 films and established one of the most famous characters in all the world: James Bond.
