I picked up Ian Fleming's "Thunderball" at a yard sale last week for fifty cents. Interestingly enough, the original price on the cover from 1962 was fifty cents so the book held its value!
This is a James Bond book and I've never read one of those before. I was surprised how different it felt. It opens with Bond hung-over from a late night game of bridge. Bridge? He was at work at his office doing paperwork when he gets called into M's office. Paperwork? Who knew James Bond had a desk...
Anyway, M thinks Bond is smoking too much and needs to go to a health spa for a week to eat healthy food and get better. For real? Not as the beginning to a mission but just to dry out and avoid bridge games with those whacky old ladies at the garden club. Sheez. Of course, things get crazy after that but James Bond felt so much like a loser in this book. I just thought being a cold-hearted killer would be a bit more fun.
But at 183 pages, its hard to get mad when you're in and out of the story lickety-split. If anybody wants to borrow it, let me know...
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