Ian Fleming's second Bond novel. You may recognize the title from that less than favorite 1973 film featuring Roger Moore for the first time, but believe me when I tell you this is something else entirely. If Casino Royale was status porn for the gentleman wannabe, Live and Let Die is a rude awakening with real stakes, dire consequences and gritty frustrations all circling an ever more hopeless mission for Bond and his poor, poor pal Leiter who gets off lucky once, but not twice. Gold coins are turning up all over America, rare, pirate coins from the Caribbean, and they're being sold on the black market to finance the Soviet spy agency SMERSH, so MI6 and the CIA have teamed up to investigate. Of course it doesn't bother Bond to have another chance at revenge for what SMERSH did to his girl Vesper last time. And he never minds partnering with his pal and CIA counterpart Felix Leiter. This time their trail leads directly to the villain Mr. Big whose criminal syndicate of African American minions is vast and frightfully loyal, except for one captive girl, the obviously beautiful fortuneteller named Solitaire. Fleming sets up the perfect procedural, like any good episode of CSI or Law and Order. The technicalities and formalities of the early chapters set up a fascinating case with all its inevitable complications. We're reintroduced to our lead secret agent, 007, who like Fleming, has a natural tie to Jamaica that justifies this second adventure even more organically than his first. By the time he hooks up with Leiter from the CIA, there's a casual swagger about these two old friends teaming up to fight the Russians again in secret battles around the world. Their visit to Harlem to confront Mr. Big straightaway belies their hubris, even as the lights go dark and their entire table revolves into a secret room for their first capture. Classic. They pretend to be little more than treasury agents investigating the coins (not spies fighting Soviets) and the seductive Solitaire, prospective "wife" of Mr. Big, is brought in to verify, using her mystical gifts. With coldness in her eyes, she covers for them. Why? Of course she's instantly in love with Bond, for whom she sees a vision that he will rescue her. Bond barely survives Act One as it is, racing out of Harlem with little more than a broken finger (Leiter as well is saved by jazz) and Act Two sees him continuing to run for his life. This time with Solitaire in tow. He spends virtually the entire novel simply getting in and out of tough situations as the network of negro porters and pullman across the US, under the enchanted voodoo influence of Mr. Big, slowly closes in around him. If any of these twists or traps seems predictable, they nonetheless work by sheer quantity, as the ever looming threat grows more and more inevitable, and comes with greater and greater cost. Each escape brings with it only more suspense as we start to see danger every time Bond turns a corner, walks through a door or changes outfits. The meals in Bond's American visit are paltry compared to the fare of his first foray, but no less as intricate under Fleming's pen. He almost seems to enjoy torturing Bond with such dismal circumstances as a sloppy late night diner, or the antiseptic oldsters of southern Florida retirement communities, both to poke fun at America and to subvert his own Bond formula. Not all secret missions are fancy suits and fine dining. Fleming never skips a beat as he ratchets the tension all the way to the finale. After Leiter goes solo to explore a suspicious bait and tackle shop in St. Petersburg, his body comes back torn to shreds and missing an arm. "He disagreed with something that ate him." Bond nearly suffers the same fate, following the same clue, and loses Solitaire as well, forcing him to take the fight all the way to Jamaica. Jamaica, Ian Fleming's home turf. He wrote all of his stories there at an estate named -- wait for it -- Goldeneye, after retiring from the Royal Navy. Many settings from Live and Let Die feature an uncanny sense of tangible realism, rife with first hand details he picked up during visits along the American coast, such as the Silver Phantom train sequence. Everything from the plant and animal life to the local cuisine and jalousie windows enhances the verisimilitude of this exotic spy adventure. Fleming counters this precision realism though with villains named Mr. Big and The Robber, as well as Solitaire to hype up the fantasy elements eluded to by the voodoo mysticism and fortunetelling. A Harlem striptease on the front end is mirrored by an octopus attack on the back end to pull the pulpy spy thriller package together perfectly. Lines like, "Good evening, Mister James Bond... The fly has indeed been a long time coming to the spider," are as ridiculous as they are brilliantly entertaining, and it's no wonder the Bond movie franchise turned out the way it did. Our gadgets for this adventure include little more than a glass cutter, a wetsuit and some limpet mines. Shark repellent was due to arrive the next day, but didn't make it in time. Bond spends a week training and healing in Jamaica before he makes his move on Mr. Big and his tanker full of secret coins. The mission goes as badly for Bond as it is suspenseful for us. Unlike Casino Royale, which wrapped up the main plot about a hundred pages early in order to subvert our expectations, Live and Let Die teeters on the brink right up until the last pages. Fleming is horrific in his detail. They are to be keel hauled over the coral's sharp edges until the blood attracts the sharks. Bond's last hope is not a plan of escape so much as a method of putting themselves out of their misery. He'll force Solitaire underwater and drown her before rolling her body over his to drown himself. Luckily, there's twelve more books in the series, so it doesn't come to that. The bad guy is killed. Bond stakes his claim on the treasure find of the century. And yes, he gets the girl. You gotta love these little sentimental asides, this one pondered during some mild turbulence: "There's nothing to do about it. You start to die the moment you are born... So take it easy. Light a cigarette and be grateful you are still alive..." It goes on for a full page like this! Conclusion: Live and Let Die is regarded as one of Fleming's best Bond novels. Three different movies borrowed material from it. Fleming drew most heavily from his life's experiences in writing it, from scenes and settings to character names. And it follows what I consider the Rocky formula. Rocky Balboa lost in his first movie, and it was a tragic yet inspiring film anyway. Bond may have won at Baccarat in his first outing but lost the girl in the end and was inspired instead to revenge. Both were mixed victories at best. But in Rocky II, Rocky Balboa kicks Creed's butt and wins. Likewise here, Bond has a more decisive and traditional victory in spite of the odds, and it's all the more gratifying for taking two books to get there. If Casino Royale took liberties with pacing and story structure, Live and Let Die follows a tried and true formula, leaving each chapter with a hook to turn the page right up until the intense climax. It's a fast, fun read full of swagger and pulpy fun. If you make it this far into the series, I guarantee you'll lose interest in the debate about which actor played the best Bond. Forget Daniel Craig, or even Sean Connery. Ian Fleming's portrayal is a cold, hard, diamond, cut to a sharp point and mounted in gold. Don't Forget to Like and Retweet!
Other Bond Novels Casino Royale Moonraker Diamonds Are Forever Raymond Chandler Detective Novels The Big Sleep Farewell, My Lovely
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