I did love the ekranoplan, also known as ‘The Caspian Sea Monster’. Faulks was not lying when he called it an exotic Cold War vehicle. I wouldn’t mind at all seeing it in a future Bond film. I liked the sequences involving it a lot more after getting a proper look at it online- which you can as well by looking here. http://davidszondy.com/future/Flight/GEV.htm
I did love the ekranoplan, also known as ‘The Caspian Sea Monster’. Faulks was not lying when he called it an exotic Cold War vehicle. I wouldn’t mind at all seeing it in a future Bond film. I liked the sequences involving it a lot more after getting a proper look at it online- which you can as well by looking here. http://davidszondy.com/future/Flight/GEV.htm
Thanks for the link. I wish I would have seen that prior to reading the book.
"A blunt instrument wielded by a Government department. Hard, ruthless, sardonic, fatalistic. He likes gambling, golf, fast motor cars. All his movements are relaxed and economical". Ian Fleming
I enjoyed the book. Not my favorite, but still a fun read. I dont think he quite captured Ian Fleming, but how could you? His short and punchy sentences were a good match at times, but othertimes I felt like Bond was a bit silly. Still a good read, a good story and an odd villian. I liked the heroin back story and how he involved all of Bond's friends in the story. The chapter that especially got me was the one with Leiter and Pistachio together...shocking.
I saw the whole 004 thing coming from miles away, that certainly was not difficult to pick up on.
Also, I read a review in the Economist saying that they were surprised to hear Bond criticizing 60's culture. I really felt the reviewer was looking at the literary Bond through cinematic Bond goggles. I think the literary Bond would be a little more traditional and like to stick with his era, but for sure the cinematice Bond 'moves with the times.' ANyways, theres some thoughts for you, take them for what they are worth.
The main problem is that DEVIL MAY CARE was so heavily hyped that expectations were for it to be "the best Bond adventure ever".
It wasn't.
It was okay and I liked it well enough, but I'm actually getting more enjoyment from listening to the audiobook version by Jeremy Northam than I did by reading it.
Next time, though, they need to get a proper thriller writer.
Like many other folks on this board, I rushed out and purchased DMC the day of its release. I can't recall the last time I was so excited to get my hands on a book.
Having finished reading it weeks ago and have enough time to digest the story and writing, it seems the pre-publication hype was a bit much. Faulks said he followed Fleming's routine and wrote the book in six weeks. He should have spent another six weeks on it.
The story seems rushed in many areas (such as the traveling across Russia). Also, the story is somewhat campy and lacks the dark urgency found in Fleming's originals.
I'm an author and have long wanted to take a crack at Bond! Hopefully, the next writer they get to handle our favorite spy will do a better job.
I went to Chapters to look for other spy novels recommended by members of this board and all I could find at the time was Devel May Care. So I reluctantly picked it up.
I can sum up my feelings for this book and its difference from the Fleming works very easily. When you were getting near the end of most of Flemings novels it was extremely difficult to put them down. Some of Flemings books caused me to have nights with only a few hours sleep because I had to keep reading to see what came next.
This novel got picked up and put down often and with little regard. I never once experienced that urge that I just had to keep reading Devil May Care. Not a completely terrible book, but certainly not a good one either.
The book in my minds eye reads like it was written for an older Roger Moore type Bond. I was waiting for Faulks to write "...and then the pigeon did a double take."
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 26,790Chief of Staff
Not a completely terrible book, but certainly not a good one either.
I have to say that that sums up the book perfectly for me too. It's almost like Faulks tried too hard with this book - sometimes he gets it, sometimes he doesn't.
Not a completely terrible book, but certainly not a good one either.
I have to say that that sums up the book perfectly for me too. It's almost like Faulks tried too hard with this book - sometimes he gets it, sometimes he doesn't.
I think that's actually the problem that all of the Bond continuation authors have had. They have a lot to live up to and they want to make sure they don't mess things up. I understand trying to emulate Fleming's writing style and all but it can be difficult for an author to do that. And a creative process such as writing a novel becomes overly difficult and the quality suffers if you try too hard. I think that the only way a continuation author can write a Bond novel to rival the originals is if they just relax, get in the mind of the character, and let things come to them. I don't think Fleming took his stories overly seriously and neither should the continuation authors.
LoeffelholzThe United States, With LovePosts: 8,994Quartermasters
edited July 2008
Well, I have finally finished this one. Because I was actually flying from L.A. to Illinois on the day this book was released, I had to wait until the next day to get my hands on it, and I began reading it straightaway.
I have a couple of projects in progress at the moment, so I wasn't really able to give DMC a dedicted, top-priority read; in fact, I put it down for days and weeks without picking it up, until I had a few spare minutes to read a chapter...then I would put it down again. This is symptomatic of rampant problems with the book---if I'd been hopelessly in its grasp all along, I'd have made time, as I did with, say, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows---or, indeed, any of John D. MacDonald's utterly brilliant Travis McGee books.
I was initially nervous, months ago, when I'd read the writeup about Faulks' strident adherence to Fleming's six-week writing regimen---as if that in itself were the answer to some riddle about what makes a literary Bond adventure great(!). If I were ever so impossibly fortunate as to secure an opportunity to write a James Bond Thriller, I'd take it very seriously indeed...and, after nervously crapping water for several days/weeks of planning, I'd probably take six months to make sure I got it right.
Conversely, Faulks seems to have approached this project with an arrogant flippance which, in all frankness, is apparent on nearly every page. "I'm really above this sort of thing," he seems to imply, "And so I've tossed this off for you in a month and a half. Aren't I something?" 8-) I haven't seen anything this underwritten since I studied my homeowner's insurance policy declaration form.
Not that it comes off as incompetent, of course. Mind you, he's clearly a good enough writer to get the job done, as evidenced by the critical acclaim for his other, more "serious" stuff. It just seems as if Mr. Faulks really doesn't give a damn here. This is still more proof---as if we needed any more---that only Ian Fleming can write "as Ian Fleming." 8-) Perhaps IFP should leave continuation novels to a "less serious" writer who will take this legendary property more seriously.
Some things are forgivable, such as the constant shoehorning-in of references to past adventures, but it's a pity that, either a) Faulks felt that such a thing was necessary, or b) IFP thought it necessary, and mandated it. Fleming himself was very judicious and sparing with this technique; it's a pity this cue wasn't followed as diligently as the 'six week' rule
Nor am I sure that anything was necessarily gained by making the novel a cold war period piece. Yes, we're given the Russian experimental plane. Yes, we're told about the Stones getting busted for drugs, and the overall rise of the drug culture...but it still somehow read (to me) rather like one of John Gardner's better books (I think I prefer either Licence Renewed or For Special Services to this one).
There are things I enjoyed, such as the tennis match and the trek out of the Soviet Union, but even these seem like slighly hollow echoes of what has come before. For my money, Colonel Sun remains the best of the non-Fleming Bonds. Devil May Care might have the best non-Fleming title---but ultimately, it's only a so-so Bond book that could have been so much better.
I wish the next fellow good luck in what is obviously a most daunting and difficult endeavour...but I hope he has the good sense not to claim to be writing "as Ian Fleming." 8-)
Check out my Amazon author page!Mark Loeffelholz
"I am not an entrant in the Shakespeare Stakes." - Ian Fleming
"Screw 'em." - Daniel Craig, The Best James Bond EverTM
I have not read the book yet, and based on the reviews on this forum I may not. However, I have a couple comments about this 6 weeks to write the book. Yes, Fleming wrote his novels during his two month holiday he took every year at Goldeneye, but he then spent months going over the manuscript making changes adding specific items like brand names for the guns, clothing, etc. In addition, since he had some experience in the espionage field (how much subject to argument) writing some of the scenes would be far easier for him than a lay person.
No one has been able to replicate Fleming, IMO Amis came closest with Colonel Sun and Gardenr's License Renewed wasn't bad. Perhaps Fleming was a one of a kind and perhaps only he understood James Bond and maybe everyone else should quit trying.
I have not read the book yet, and based on the reviews on this forum I may not.
I was disappointed with the book, as many who posted here were, but it was definitely worth reading. I think many of us just had our hopes set to high before reading the book. You will have more reasonable expectations as a result of reading the reviews here and will probably enjoy it more.
"A blunt instrument wielded by a Government department. Hard, ruthless, sardonic, fatalistic. He likes gambling, golf, fast motor cars. All his movements are relaxed and economical". Ian Fleming
I was very lucky to go on holiday the day after Devil May Care was released; as a result I was able to read it at my leisure. I was lucky enough to read a brilliant, thrilling Bond novel, which provided an interesting spin on Fleming while remaining true to its heart. But enough about Hurricane Gold: what about Devil May Care?
Well... I like the title. And the cover.
I tried to like it. I really did. I was so excited to read it. A Bond hardback! A Bond hardback written by someone who wasn't a computer programmer! Exciting! But it was just, well... rubbish. Put it this way: after two hours of reading it on the plane, I put it in my carry on luggage again. I took out a different book, and I read that entire book before I picked up DMC again. That's not right. I even managed to consume Zero Minus Ten on a forty minute train journey from London.
My biggest, 100% massive problem with this was that Bond in DMC is more passive than a Gaydar bottom. Really. I don't think he lets a single original thought enter his head in the entire novel. He goes on holiday because M tells him to, he has a drink with a woman because she asks him to; he can't even get a hotel room without phoning up Felix Leiter and asking his advice. Scarlett turns up, says "I've been lying to you all along about my identity, but how about you trust me completely and provide me with loads of assistance?" and Bond says "Yay! Take me to the tennis club!" Then he doesn't notice the villain's a big cheat, and only bests him because the girl did notice and cheated back. He goes to Iran, and is taken somewhere by Darko Kerim, sorry, whatever his name is which ISN'T Darko Kerim, no siree, and then he's captured, and he's taken off somewhere, but he escapes, and is captured again, and then is forced to do something, and it all ends up in Russia. Bond just sort of waits around for someone to tell him what to do, or force him to do something.
The ekranoplan is completely thrown away, destroyed in the least exciting dogfight in history, and a dogfight which Bond has nothing to do with. Bond instead is given the task of stopping something from crashing, in a really tenuous plot device seemingly created so there will be a HUGE NUCLEAR THREAT which will THREATEN THE WORLD. And then he and Scarlett wander across Russia for what seems like months, repeatedly stealing clothes and cars from peasants because fortunately, the Soviet Union didn't have any kind of police force to stop this kind of thing. But never mind: here's Mathis (for no apparent reason)! Here's Felix Leiter (for no apparent reason)! Do you see, fanboys? Isn't that all you want?
And it all culminates in an absolutely ludicrous twist which effectively undoes 70% of what we've just read ("Oh yes, I just made all that stuff up about the villain hating Britain with a passion. Wasn't it a lucky coincidence when he kept going on about hating Britain with a passion?").
Argh, have I taken it all too seriously? Is it too much to expect that a Bond novel should be well written, well plotted and interesting? Sebastian Faulks should really have shut up about how this took six weeks for him to write, because (a) it smacks of horrific arrogance ("yeah, I can toss out crap like this without any effort at all") and (b) one is forced to compare it with the work that Fleming took six weeks to write. Work like From Russia With Love, and On Her Majesty's Secret Service. You know, classics. More interesting than Charlotte Grey, anyway.
I cannot say enough bad things about this novel. I would prefer to read High Time To Kill or SeaFire again. Charlie Higson should be handed the continuation novels, right now, and Faulks should be locked in a basement and never allowed near Bond again.
P.S. I haven't even mentioned the contrived paddle steamer on the Seine OMIGOD HE FELL IN THE PADDLE!!1!!1! ending.
Charlie Higson should be handed the continuation novels, right now, and Faulks should be locked in a basement and never allowed near Bond again.
Brilliant suggestions, JSW---Both of them :v
Check out my Amazon author page!Mark Loeffelholz
"I am not an entrant in the Shakespeare Stakes." - Ian Fleming
"Screw 'em." - Daniel Craig, The Best James Bond EverTM
No one would dare commission another author to pen a Harry Potter adventure. Why keep subjecting our favorite secret agent to this literary torture?
One of the reasons, I believe, many still refuse to acknowledge Fleming as classical literature is because of the continuation fodder that's been published since Fleming's death.
I say it's time for Bond to be allowed to retire peacefully from Her Majesty's Secret Service (at least on the written page).
Full agreement.As 7289 says,as long as there's money to be made off of Ian Fleming, books like Devil May Care will probably continue to be published.It's the Ian Fleming estate(once called "Glidrose", but now known as "Ian Fleming Publications")that has control over all of the James Bond novels--from the relatively recent reprints of Fleming's original thirteen Bond books, to Kingsley Amis's Colonel Sun, to Christopher Wood's novelizations of his screenplays for The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker,and finally to the various John Gardner,Raymond Benson and Charlie Higson James Bond continuation novels.
Reportedly,IFP went to Sebastian Faulks for their 007 centenary novel.Despite it's less than stellar quality,Faulks's Devil May Care has sold very well, so its doubtful IFP will consider ending their program of 007 continuation novels anytime soon.
I'd be willing to bet that many of us Bond fans could knock out a better effort than fellows like Faulks - motivated only by wads of the "green stuff".
Saved reading this until I was on Holiday and was really really dissapointed. It was like a tribute act that blatantly flouted it's references in a very heavy handed way.
I was really looking forward to a dissillusioned Bond towards the very end of his career. The plotting was lumpen, the 'twist' so obvious that I cant imagine that anybody failed to spot it a mile off. There was little to no genuine tension and a composite and laughable Villain. In contrast Silverfin which I read on the same vacation was a breath of fresh air. The difference felt to me that Silverfin was written by someone who cared about Bond, and that Faulks was 'slumming'. A real wasted opportunity as I'm sure if Faulks had taken it more seriously he could have made a fine contribution to the cannon. What it did was make me even more impressed that Fleming's Bond far from being a mere cipher as his critics often claim, is teeming with interior life, doubts and struggles, and is a much more fully realised and complex character than the nearly man that Faulks gave us.
Having read all of the Bond novels I felt I should give this a try although most of the reviews I saw were negative. I thought the book got off to a good start, the first two chapters drew me in and I was excited to continue reading and find out what was going to happen. Then the story goes off course, as many have said, the villain and his henchman were comic book cut out villains. Both freaks of nature, who, as far as I could understand, had no reason to embark on their criminal careers and hatred of England. Many parts of the book were boring, the escape from the plane and the long trip back to safety had me turning pages before finishing in hopes the next page might have something interesting. One additional complaint, at times in this novel, Bond is stupid, and Bond should never be stupid. he can make mistakes, but not stupid blunders. Returning to a location, he just escaped from with guards chasing and shooting at him, hours later to take pictures and not expecting their might be people waiting for him is ridicules.
I did like the female character, Scarlett, although I would have preferred we did not get the goofy twist involving her identity at the end.
One thing this book did reinforce what I already knew, their will always be just one Ian Fleming.
Best Bond authors in order, note, their is a big gap between Fleming and the rest.
Fleming
Amis
Gardner
Faulks
Benson
superadoRegent's Park West (CaliforniaPosts: 2,654MI6 Agent
edited March 2009
I didn’t know this thread existed. Since it’s been a few months since I read DMC, I’ll just add my random feedback based on what I still remember, and apologies if some are repetitions of what others have posted so far. I’ll list them in order of personal significance.
The caveat the author gave early on should have been a sign of a major cop out, that he was not aiming to write as Fleming, which he should have further expounded to mean that he would not attempt to write near that caliber, which makes me better appreciate the least rated continuation authors, who at least managed to capture facets of the Bond character, here and there.
With such a significant event like the Fleming Centenary, couldn’t the Fleming estate use a more thoughtful screening process in selecting an author for this work, which happens only once in a century? The true and tried pastiche writers, Christopher Wood, Charlie Higson and Raymond Benson, could have done better, let alone the “pulp celebrities” like Ken Follett and Frederick Forsythe. Were they being cheap? Considering how much they charged for the “Bentley motors” limited editions, they could have splurged a bit more for a good author.
The narrative did not feel like it was the early 60’s. The period references were there in ample amounts, so I can’t figure out why it didn’t feel that way. In the same way, the episode in Iran didn’t make me think that the setting was in 1960’s Iran, not that I’ve been there. However, I haven’t been to Istanbul either and yet there’s no comparison with the exotic feel that Fleming created. It’s such a big miss, since in addition to the rural setting that IMO could have been better rendered, Iran at that time was at it’s opulent peak as a cosmopolitan jewel of the region, just as pre-WWII Berlin and Havana during the 1950’s.
Naming the Bond girl “Scarlet,” how unoriginal. At anytime Bond calls her by name, one would expect him to follow it up with “ …I don’t give a damn!” Making her a banker however (don’t remember if that was just her cover or her actual profession) was not in line with the Fleming Bond girl formula, in whose world women were truly the weaker sex in terms of professional mobility unless the girl was in the underworld (Pussy and Tiffany, for example). However, the saving grace was how Scarlet was rendered in my mind’s eye as very attractive. Lastly on this, the ruse that Scarlet was a twin was very predictable, and shame on Bond for not picking up on it.
The villain was too much of a Drax rehash, just as the henchman was Oddjob redressed if that character can be reinterpreted, though blander.
After the attempt on Bond while driving to the airport in his Bentley, wasn't he concerned in the slightest to make precautions that his flat (and May in it) was safe and sound before taking off? I don't remember if he even bothered to call the incident into headquarters. With the way the ambush was orchestrated, he cannot afford to assume that his flat wasn't staked out.
Bond’s foray into the USSR was done more like the accounts of student backpackers who lost their wallets, then getting lost on the continent. Considering the context of Bond’s role and history with the USSR at the height of the cold war, I’m disappointed about the tame treatment that was given to this episode, seemingly meant as a filler that only managed to slightly delay the abrupt skip to the story’s conclusion.
"...the purposeful slant of his striding figure looked dangerous, as if he was making quickly for something bad that was happening further down the street." -SMERSH on 007 dossier photo, Ch. 6 FRWL.....
Though I am waiting until it comes out on paperback, May 18th, I think that what made Fleming such a good writer is that he was writing about what he knew. In college I had to write a short story and that's the one thing that my teacher said to me when I asked about what I should write about. How can you ask someone to write a story about shooting guns if he's never done so. Sure you can research all you want and somethings can be writen about this way but somethings you need real world experiance...
Bond: You don't think I enjoyed what we did this evening, do you? What I did tonight was for King and country! You don't think it gave me any pleasure, do you?
Fiona: But of course, I forgot your ego, Mr. Bond. James Bond, who only has to make love to a woman and she starts to hear heavenly choirs singing.
I read DMC when it first came out and I wasn’t particularly excited by it. I had a lot going on at the time and it took me a couple of weeks to read. However, I have recently purchased the Penguin paperback and thought I’d give it another go.
Firstly, the book itself: Penguin has re-formatted all the Bond novels to the contemporary fiction size. This means it sits bigger than all my other novels and doesn’t look neat on the shelf. I know that’s trivial, but there you have it. The cover is dull; the picture of the heroine has an unworldly look to it, like a cartoon. And then there’s the print size, so large it looks like a children’s novel. Someone totalled the budget, but it does seem a waste of almost 400 pages of paper when, with a smaller typeface, the novel would hardly stretch to 250, approximately the length of most of Fleming’s efforts. It might be cheaper too.
Okay so that’s got my initial gripes out of the way. What of the story itself? Well, Sebastian Faulks is a good writer. Take that on authority: Birdsong is a phenomenally good novel. But I don’t really know what he’s trying to do here. DMC lacks a decent plot and, even worse, suffers from pages of pointless dialogue. Quite why Faulks keeps his character’s talking when the reader just wants to cut to the next scene I will never know. He creates or uses a host of characters many of whom, like Felix Leither and Rene Mathis and J.D. Silver, are superfluous to the plot. They may add some local colour, but they don’t really help Bond solve the case.
What always made Fleming’s writing good was his regular refusal to abandon his lead character; even when others are helping 007, Fleming rigidly stuck to describing the mission from Bond’s point of view. This allows the reader to experience the tension and the fear from Bond’s position. As DMC reaches its climax, Faulks effectively tells us there won’t be a nuclear war because Bond’s allies have obtained all the information and manageD to tell London. This rather removes the tension from Bond’s battle on the A-10 aeroplane. Additionally we also learn there is a mole inside the enemy camp; what a pity they didn’t use him earlier! It’s a bit of a cop out. Faulks doesn’t appear to have thought through how to tie up all his loose ends.
He’s equally bad when it comes to his main characters. Like Fleming, he doesn’t describe much about Bond, choosing instead to offer a series of semi-reflective paragraphs interspersed into the story. We get the impression of a rather tired, aging agent, who has just about had enough of the special services and looks at himself “with a distaste he made no attempt to soften.” Faulks is rather good here and also later on when playing out Bond’s protracted courtship of Scarlett Papava. He gives us a real feel for Bond, even if he isn’t fleshing out his heroine or indeed his villians.
The character of Scarlett was unbelievable the first time I read the book and it doesn’t improve. It’s a clumsy interpretation, nothing like Fleming’s women, being seductive and resourceful and helpless all at once. The first time of reading I, like Bond, wondered about her expertise with guns; it is soon very obvious she is a spy and Faulks telegraphs her appearance as 004. The MacGuffin of Scarlett’s “twin” is equally preposterous and here Faulks shares one of John Gardner’s traits: M doesn’t tell Bond everything he needs to know, effectively putting both his agents at greater risk.
Even shallower are Faulks’ villians, Dr Julius Gorner (I don’t like the name, it isn’t anywhere near sinister enough) and Chagrin. Gorner is clearly based on Dr No, with his red China connections and his white glove covering a deformed hand – an ape’s paw. But Gorner doesn’t have any menace about him. Sure, he skulks around Marseilles, he’s asexual, he’s a Nazi and a Soviet turncoat and he offers drug addicted women to be raped by drug addicted slaves, but being nasty doesn’t make him memorable. Even an elaborate scheme to cheat at tennis merely makes him appear like a spoilt brat. Chagrin is a psychopathic murderer who is hardly fleshed out at all. Gorner offers a few lines to explain his bodyguard’s tendencies in a manner familiar to Bond readers from GF, where Goldfinger has to talk for Oddjob as the man in mute.
Bond’s chief ally is Darius Alizadeh, our man in Persia, and Faulk’s draws a better character here, giving him a proper back story and some good dialogue. Faulks has clearly based Darius on some of Fleming’s more colourful creations, like Kerim Bey, Tanaka and Colombo. He uses him to explain much of the politics of the time and this is an excellent device. Somewhat startlingly he also includes a strange chapter where he and Bond visit an exotic nightclub full of naked women. It’s startling because there isn’t any sex.
Indeed there isn’t a lot of sex in the book at all and most of what there is seems quite morbid, designed to titillate and revolt in equal measure. Similarly the action, when it does come, has none of the lengthy drawn out detail and almost masochistic descriptions a la Fleming. Instead we have short, sharp, punchy sentences that pass by without any real exhilaration.
So what do we have here? Faulks claimed he woke at eight every morning and wrote two thousand words a day for six weeks, exactly how Fleming wrote. He doesn’t however share Fleming’s ability to inject pace and fear into the story. These things are sadly lacking. He also struggles to come up with anything original. Indeed the whole book has a sort of composite feel to it, with inspiration coming from both the books and the films. The plot is a rehash of TSWLM (the film); the Arkenadan is a sort of stealth boat for the ‘60s; the tennis match replicates a round of golf; Gorner is complied from Dr No, Goldfinger and Yannis; Chagrin is a cross between Grant and Reynard, including a heightened pain threshold; we have a man sucked out of a plane; we have fights on a plane; Bond goes diving underneath a secret warehouse; the list goes on, but I will stop now...
It isn’t a very good novel. It’s also very disappointing that a writer as good as Faulks has not grasped what essentially makes Fleming so readable: the attention to detail, to things and people and happenings, to senses and smells and thoughts, above all he paid attention to Bond’s realisations and there just isn’t enough of that in DMC. When it’s there, Faulks does okay, but too often he forsakes it for shoddy action or dull dialogue.
Sorry, Sebastian; it’s time to try again I’m afraid.
superadoRegent's Park West (CaliforniaPosts: 2,654MI6 Agent
Considering the relatively good reviews and awards Faulks received and if his writing is generally much better than this, either he made a sincere, yet weak attempt to give justice to Fleming's Bond, or he found the whole exercise, esp. the ludicrous and fanatical regard for the Bond mythos that he decided to ape his treatment with a formula...and in the end laughed his way to the bank and the awards ceremony.
"...the purposeful slant of his striding figure looked dangerous, as if he was making quickly for something bad that was happening further down the street." -SMERSH on 007 dossier photo, Ch. 6 FRWL.....
Comments
Thanks for the link. I wish I would have seen that prior to reading the book.
I enjoyed the book. Not my favorite, but still a fun read. I dont think he quite captured Ian Fleming, but how could you? His short and punchy sentences were a good match at times, but othertimes I felt like Bond was a bit silly. Still a good read, a good story and an odd villian. I liked the heroin back story and how he involved all of Bond's friends in the story. The chapter that especially got me was the one with Leiter and Pistachio together...shocking.
I saw the whole 004 thing coming from miles away, that certainly was not difficult to pick up on.
Also, I read a review in the Economist saying that they were surprised to hear Bond criticizing 60's culture. I really felt the reviewer was looking at the literary Bond through cinematic Bond goggles. I think the literary Bond would be a little more traditional and like to stick with his era, but for sure the cinematice Bond 'moves with the times.' ANyways, theres some thoughts for you, take them for what they are worth.
It wasn't.
It was okay and I liked it well enough, but I'm actually getting more enjoyment from listening to the audiobook version by Jeremy Northam than I did by reading it.
Next time, though, they need to get a proper thriller writer.
Having finished reading it weeks ago and have enough time to digest the story and writing, it seems the pre-publication hype was a bit much. Faulks said he followed Fleming's routine and wrote the book in six weeks. He should have spent another six weeks on it.
The story seems rushed in many areas (such as the traveling across Russia). Also, the story is somewhat campy and lacks the dark urgency found in Fleming's originals.
I'm an author and have long wanted to take a crack at Bond! Hopefully, the next writer they get to handle our favorite spy will do a better job.
How about a fictional tale about a murderer who takes advantage of the Frisco fire to wreak havoc?
Roger Moore 1927-2017
Thanks for the kind words . . . !
That's not a bad story idea you came up with!
I can sum up my feelings for this book and its difference from the Fleming works very easily. When you were getting near the end of most of Flemings novels it was extremely difficult to put them down. Some of Flemings books caused me to have nights with only a few hours sleep because I had to keep reading to see what came next.
This novel got picked up and put down often and with little regard. I never once experienced that urge that I just had to keep reading Devil May Care. Not a completely terrible book, but certainly not a good one either.
The book in my minds eye reads like it was written for an older Roger Moore type Bond. I was waiting for Faulks to write "...and then the pigeon did a double take."
I have to say that that sums up the book perfectly for me too. It's almost like Faulks tried too hard with this book - sometimes he gets it, sometimes he doesn't.
I think that's actually the problem that all of the Bond continuation authors have had. They have a lot to live up to and they want to make sure they don't mess things up. I understand trying to emulate Fleming's writing style and all but it can be difficult for an author to do that. And a creative process such as writing a novel becomes overly difficult and the quality suffers if you try too hard. I think that the only way a continuation author can write a Bond novel to rival the originals is if they just relax, get in the mind of the character, and let things come to them. I don't think Fleming took his stories overly seriously and neither should the continuation authors.
I have a couple of projects in progress at the moment, so I wasn't really able to give DMC a dedicted, top-priority read; in fact, I put it down for days and weeks without picking it up, until I had a few spare minutes to read a chapter...then I would put it down again. This is symptomatic of rampant problems with the book---if I'd been hopelessly in its grasp all along, I'd have made time, as I did with, say, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows---or, indeed, any of John D. MacDonald's utterly brilliant Travis McGee books.
I was initially nervous, months ago, when I'd read the writeup about Faulks' strident adherence to Fleming's six-week writing regimen---as if that in itself were the answer to some riddle about what makes a literary Bond adventure great(!). If I were ever so impossibly fortunate as to secure an opportunity to write a James Bond Thriller, I'd take it very seriously indeed...and, after nervously crapping water for several days/weeks of planning,
Conversely, Faulks seems to have approached this project with an arrogant flippance which, in all frankness, is apparent on nearly every page. "I'm really above this sort of thing," he seems to imply, "And so I've tossed this off for you in a month and a half. Aren't I something?"
Not that it comes off as incompetent, of course. Mind you, he's clearly a good enough writer to get the job done, as evidenced by the critical acclaim for his other, more "serious" stuff. It just seems as if Mr. Faulks really doesn't give a damn here. This is still more proof---as if we needed any more---that only Ian Fleming can write "as Ian Fleming." 8-) Perhaps IFP should leave continuation novels to a "less serious" writer who will take this legendary property more seriously.
Some things are forgivable, such as the constant shoehorning-in of references to past adventures, but it's a pity that, either a) Faulks felt that such a thing was necessary, or b) IFP thought it necessary, and mandated it. Fleming himself was very judicious and sparing with this technique; it's a pity this cue wasn't followed as diligently as the 'six week' rule
Nor am I sure that anything was necessarily gained by making the novel a cold war period piece. Yes, we're given the Russian experimental plane. Yes, we're told about the Stones getting busted for drugs, and the overall rise of the drug culture...but it still somehow read (to me) rather like one of John Gardner's better books (I think I prefer either Licence Renewed or For Special Services to this one).
There are things I enjoyed, such as the tennis match and the trek out of the Soviet Union, but even these seem like slighly hollow echoes of what has come before. For my money, Colonel Sun remains the best of the non-Fleming Bonds. Devil May Care might have the best non-Fleming title---but ultimately, it's only a so-so Bond book that could have been so much better.
I wish the next fellow good luck in what is obviously a most daunting and difficult endeavour...but I hope he has the good sense not to claim to be writing "as Ian Fleming." 8-)
"I am not an entrant in the Shakespeare Stakes." - Ian Fleming
"Screw 'em." - Daniel Craig, The Best James Bond EverTM
No one has been able to replicate Fleming, IMO Amis came closest with Colonel Sun and Gardenr's License Renewed wasn't bad. Perhaps Fleming was a one of a kind and perhaps only he understood James Bond and maybe everyone else should quit trying.
I was disappointed with the book, as many who posted here were, but it was definitely worth reading. I think many of us just had our hopes set to high before reading the book. You will have more reasonable expectations as a result of reading the reviews here and will probably enjoy it more.
I was very lucky to go on holiday the day after Devil May Care was released; as a result I was able to read it at my leisure. I was lucky enough to read a brilliant, thrilling Bond novel, which provided an interesting spin on Fleming while remaining true to its heart. But enough about Hurricane Gold: what about Devil May Care?
Well... I like the title. And the cover.
I tried to like it. I really did. I was so excited to read it. A Bond hardback! A Bond hardback written by someone who wasn't a computer programmer! Exciting! But it was just, well... rubbish. Put it this way: after two hours of reading it on the plane, I put it in my carry on luggage again. I took out a different book, and I read that entire book before I picked up DMC again. That's not right. I even managed to consume Zero Minus Ten on a forty minute train journey from London.
My biggest, 100% massive problem with this was that Bond in DMC is more passive than a Gaydar bottom. Really. I don't think he lets a single original thought enter his head in the entire novel. He goes on holiday because M tells him to, he has a drink with a woman because she asks him to; he can't even get a hotel room without phoning up Felix Leiter and asking his advice. Scarlett turns up, says "I've been lying to you all along about my identity, but how about you trust me completely and provide me with loads of assistance?" and Bond says "Yay! Take me to the tennis club!" Then he doesn't notice the villain's a big cheat, and only bests him because the girl did notice and cheated back. He goes to Iran, and is taken somewhere by Darko Kerim, sorry, whatever his name is which ISN'T Darko Kerim, no siree, and then he's captured, and he's taken off somewhere, but he escapes, and is captured again, and then is forced to do something, and it all ends up in Russia. Bond just sort of waits around for someone to tell him what to do, or force him to do something.
The ekranoplan is completely thrown away, destroyed in the least exciting dogfight in history, and a dogfight which Bond has nothing to do with. Bond instead is given the task of stopping something from crashing, in a really tenuous plot device seemingly created so there will be a HUGE NUCLEAR THREAT which will THREATEN THE WORLD. And then he and Scarlett wander across Russia for what seems like months, repeatedly stealing clothes and cars from peasants because fortunately, the Soviet Union didn't have any kind of police force to stop this kind of thing. But never mind: here's Mathis (for no apparent reason)! Here's Felix Leiter (for no apparent reason)! Do you see, fanboys? Isn't that all you want?
And it all culminates in an absolutely ludicrous twist which effectively undoes 70% of what we've just read ("Oh yes, I just made all that stuff up about the villain hating Britain with a passion. Wasn't it a lucky coincidence when he kept going on about hating Britain with a passion?").
Argh, have I taken it all too seriously? Is it too much to expect that a Bond novel should be well written, well plotted and interesting? Sebastian Faulks should really have shut up about how this took six weeks for him to write, because (a) it smacks of horrific arrogance ("yeah, I can toss out crap like this without any effort at all") and (b) one is forced to compare it with the work that Fleming took six weeks to write. Work like From Russia With Love, and On Her Majesty's Secret Service. You know, classics. More interesting than Charlotte Grey, anyway.
I cannot say enough bad things about this novel. I would prefer to read High Time To Kill or SeaFire again. Charlie Higson should be handed the continuation novels, right now, and Faulks should be locked in a basement and never allowed near Bond again.
P.S. I haven't even mentioned the contrived paddle steamer on the Seine OMIGOD HE FELL IN THE PADDLE!!1!!1! ending.
@merseytart
Brilliant suggestions, JSW---Both of them :v
"I am not an entrant in the Shakespeare Stakes." - Ian Fleming
"Screw 'em." - Daniel Craig, The Best James Bond EverTM
Bond’s Beretta
The Handguns of Ian Fleming's James Bond
One of the reasons, I believe, many still refuse to acknowledge Fleming as classical literature is because of the continuation fodder that's been published since Fleming's death.
I say it's time for Bond to be allowed to retire peacefully from Her Majesty's Secret Service (at least on the written page).
Sadly, as long as there is a pound to be made ....
Bond’s Beretta
The Handguns of Ian Fleming's James Bond
Reportedly,IFP went to Sebastian Faulks for their 007 centenary novel.Despite it's less than stellar quality,Faulks's Devil May Care has sold very well, so its doubtful IFP will consider ending their program of 007 continuation novels anytime soon.
Let me see, where did I put that old Remington?
Bond’s Beretta
The Handguns of Ian Fleming's James Bond
I was really looking forward to a dissillusioned Bond towards the very end of his career. The plotting was lumpen, the 'twist' so obvious that I cant imagine that anybody failed to spot it a mile off. There was little to no genuine tension and a composite and laughable Villain. In contrast Silverfin which I read on the same vacation was a breath of fresh air. The difference felt to me that Silverfin was written by someone who cared about Bond, and that Faulks was 'slumming'. A real wasted opportunity as I'm sure if Faulks had taken it more seriously he could have made a fine contribution to the cannon. What it did was make me even more impressed that Fleming's Bond far from being a mere cipher as his critics often claim, is teeming with interior life, doubts and struggles, and is a much more fully realised and complex character than the nearly man that Faulks gave us.
I did like the female character, Scarlett, although I would have preferred we did not get the goofy twist involving her identity at the end.
One thing this book did reinforce what I already knew, their will always be just one Ian Fleming.
Best Bond authors in order, note, their is a big gap between Fleming and the rest.
Fleming
Amis
Gardner
Faulks
Benson
The caveat the author gave early on should have been a sign of a major cop out, that he was not aiming to write as Fleming, which he should have further expounded to mean that he would not attempt to write near that caliber, which makes me better appreciate the least rated continuation authors, who at least managed to capture facets of the Bond character, here and there.
With such a significant event like the Fleming Centenary, couldn’t the Fleming estate use a more thoughtful screening process in selecting an author for this work, which happens only once in a century? The true and tried pastiche writers, Christopher Wood, Charlie Higson and Raymond Benson, could have done better, let alone the “pulp celebrities” like Ken Follett and Frederick Forsythe. Were they being cheap? Considering how much they charged for the “Bentley motors” limited editions, they could have splurged a bit more for a good author.
The narrative did not feel like it was the early 60’s. The period references were there in ample amounts, so I can’t figure out why it didn’t feel that way. In the same way, the episode in Iran didn’t make me think that the setting was in 1960’s Iran, not that I’ve been there. However, I haven’t been to Istanbul either and yet there’s no comparison with the exotic feel that Fleming created. It’s such a big miss, since in addition to the rural setting that IMO could have been better rendered, Iran at that time was at it’s opulent peak as a cosmopolitan jewel of the region, just as pre-WWII Berlin and Havana during the 1950’s.
Naming the Bond girl “Scarlet,” how unoriginal. At anytime Bond calls her by name, one would expect him to follow it up with “ …I don’t give a damn!” Making her a banker however (don’t remember if that was just her cover or her actual profession) was not in line with the Fleming Bond girl formula, in whose world women were truly the weaker sex in terms of professional mobility unless the girl was in the underworld (Pussy and Tiffany, for example). However, the saving grace was how Scarlet was rendered in my mind’s eye as very attractive. Lastly on this, the ruse that Scarlet was a twin was very predictable, and shame on Bond for not picking up on it.
The villain was too much of a Drax rehash, just as the henchman was Oddjob redressed if that character can be reinterpreted, though blander.
After the attempt on Bond while driving to the airport in his Bentley, wasn't he concerned in the slightest to make precautions that his flat (and May in it) was safe and sound before taking off? I don't remember if he even bothered to call the incident into headquarters. With the way the ambush was orchestrated, he cannot afford to assume that his flat wasn't staked out.
Bond’s foray into the USSR was done more like the accounts of student backpackers who lost their wallets, then getting lost on the continent. Considering the context of Bond’s role and history with the USSR at the height of the cold war, I’m disappointed about the tame treatment that was given to this episode, seemingly meant as a filler that only managed to slightly delay the abrupt skip to the story’s conclusion.
Fiona: But of course, I forgot your ego, Mr. Bond. James Bond, who only has to make love to a woman and she starts to hear heavenly choirs singing.
Firstly, the book itself: Penguin has re-formatted all the Bond novels to the contemporary fiction size. This means it sits bigger than all my other novels and doesn’t look neat on the shelf. I know that’s trivial, but there you have it. The cover is dull; the picture of the heroine has an unworldly look to it, like a cartoon. And then there’s the print size, so large it looks like a children’s novel. Someone totalled the budget, but it does seem a waste of almost 400 pages of paper when, with a smaller typeface, the novel would hardly stretch to 250, approximately the length of most of Fleming’s efforts. It might be cheaper too.
Okay so that’s got my initial gripes out of the way. What of the story itself? Well, Sebastian Faulks is a good writer. Take that on authority: Birdsong is a phenomenally good novel. But I don’t really know what he’s trying to do here. DMC lacks a decent plot and, even worse, suffers from pages of pointless dialogue. Quite why Faulks keeps his character’s talking when the reader just wants to cut to the next scene I will never know. He creates or uses a host of characters many of whom, like Felix Leither and Rene Mathis and J.D. Silver, are superfluous to the plot. They may add some local colour, but they don’t really help Bond solve the case.
What always made Fleming’s writing good was his regular refusal to abandon his lead character; even when others are helping 007, Fleming rigidly stuck to describing the mission from Bond’s point of view. This allows the reader to experience the tension and the fear from Bond’s position. As DMC reaches its climax, Faulks effectively tells us there won’t be a nuclear war because Bond’s allies have obtained all the information and manageD to tell London. This rather removes the tension from Bond’s battle on the A-10 aeroplane. Additionally we also learn there is a mole inside the enemy camp; what a pity they didn’t use him earlier! It’s a bit of a cop out. Faulks doesn’t appear to have thought through how to tie up all his loose ends.
He’s equally bad when it comes to his main characters. Like Fleming, he doesn’t describe much about Bond, choosing instead to offer a series of semi-reflective paragraphs interspersed into the story. We get the impression of a rather tired, aging agent, who has just about had enough of the special services and looks at himself “with a distaste he made no attempt to soften.” Faulks is rather good here and also later on when playing out Bond’s protracted courtship of Scarlett Papava. He gives us a real feel for Bond, even if he isn’t fleshing out his heroine or indeed his villians.
The character of Scarlett was unbelievable the first time I read the book and it doesn’t improve. It’s a clumsy interpretation, nothing like Fleming’s women, being seductive and resourceful and helpless all at once. The first time of reading I, like Bond, wondered about her expertise with guns; it is soon very obvious she is a spy and Faulks telegraphs her appearance as 004. The MacGuffin of Scarlett’s “twin” is equally preposterous and here Faulks shares one of John Gardner’s traits: M doesn’t tell Bond everything he needs to know, effectively putting both his agents at greater risk.
Even shallower are Faulks’ villians, Dr Julius Gorner (I don’t like the name, it isn’t anywhere near sinister enough) and Chagrin. Gorner is clearly based on Dr No, with his red China connections and his white glove covering a deformed hand – an ape’s paw. But Gorner doesn’t have any menace about him. Sure, he skulks around Marseilles, he’s asexual, he’s a Nazi and a Soviet turncoat and he offers drug addicted women to be raped by drug addicted slaves, but being nasty doesn’t make him memorable. Even an elaborate scheme to cheat at tennis merely makes him appear like a spoilt brat. Chagrin is a psychopathic murderer who is hardly fleshed out at all. Gorner offers a few lines to explain his bodyguard’s tendencies in a manner familiar to Bond readers from GF, where Goldfinger has to talk for Oddjob as the man in mute.
Bond’s chief ally is Darius Alizadeh, our man in Persia, and Faulk’s draws a better character here, giving him a proper back story and some good dialogue. Faulks has clearly based Darius on some of Fleming’s more colourful creations, like Kerim Bey, Tanaka and Colombo. He uses him to explain much of the politics of the time and this is an excellent device. Somewhat startlingly he also includes a strange chapter where he and Bond visit an exotic nightclub full of naked women. It’s startling because there isn’t any sex.
Indeed there isn’t a lot of sex in the book at all and most of what there is seems quite morbid, designed to titillate and revolt in equal measure. Similarly the action, when it does come, has none of the lengthy drawn out detail and almost masochistic descriptions a la Fleming. Instead we have short, sharp, punchy sentences that pass by without any real exhilaration.
So what do we have here? Faulks claimed he woke at eight every morning and wrote two thousand words a day for six weeks, exactly how Fleming wrote. He doesn’t however share Fleming’s ability to inject pace and fear into the story. These things are sadly lacking. He also struggles to come up with anything original. Indeed the whole book has a sort of composite feel to it, with inspiration coming from both the books and the films. The plot is a rehash of TSWLM (the film); the Arkenadan is a sort of stealth boat for the ‘60s; the tennis match replicates a round of golf; Gorner is complied from Dr No, Goldfinger and Yannis; Chagrin is a cross between Grant and Reynard, including a heightened pain threshold; we have a man sucked out of a plane; we have fights on a plane; Bond goes diving underneath a secret warehouse; the list goes on, but I will stop now...
It isn’t a very good novel. It’s also very disappointing that a writer as good as Faulks has not grasped what essentially makes Fleming so readable: the attention to detail, to things and people and happenings, to senses and smells and thoughts, above all he paid attention to Bond’s realisations and there just isn’t enough of that in DMC. When it’s there, Faulks does okay, but too often he forsakes it for shoddy action or dull dialogue.
Sorry, Sebastian; it’s time to try again I’m afraid.
fav part :the Russia part
Devil May Care by Sebastian Faulks