Fleming's Bond is a vain, quite stupid, racist and misogynist pig. He's also reasonably rubbish at this spying lark. Seriously, he makes plenty of mistakes that should have ended up in his death. For the reader, alas he makes it out alive this time around.

Indeed, despite coming across as a vapid banality, somehow this Bond chap even manages to seduce a number of lesbians, who don't seem to be at all concerned with his casual racism. Oh, and he's the hero. The extended description of the round of golf must go down as one of the most tedious things ever put down on paper.

Even worse than the tedium, is the ludicrous plotline. Why on Earth the limp villain decides to spare Bond's life (despite having him as good as dead), is beyond this reader. I understand the need to further the narrative, but you'd think that Fleming could have come up with something a bit more believable than this.

This is a silly book with an odious main character. I see very little to recommend it.