…Didn’t get dressed till 8.43, ooh I could do with a D…
…Went to Granny’s this morning while Mum went to work [it being half-term].
While there I read 94 pages of Goldfinger, before finishing it this afternoon
THEN we went to the cinema to watch Basil The Great Mouse Detective…
My attempt to get into Ian Fleming’s Bond novels only lasted a couple of months.
After soldiering through a pathetic, paltry three (this one, Live and Let Die and From Russia With Love) I gave up. I stupidly and naively thought they would bear more resemblance to the films than was actually the case.
The only reason I got through 94 pages of Goldfinger so fast was because I couldn’t wait to reach the laser beam bit. Instead all I found was a circular saw and, later, some lesbians. Had there really been that many lesbians in evidence when I’d watched the film a few weeks earlier? I was confused.
A few days after this entry, unable to reconcile the differences between the books and their big screen cousins, I decided to devote my life to the devouring of the latter rather than the former. I haven’t read another Fleming novel since.