A Gold Star
The passing away of most scriveners is met with a shrug. Oh, well. We all have to go sometime. The death of popular authors is taken to heart. Not much their own departure, but the demise of the popular characters they created.
The authors leave them hanging, as it were. As if in limbo, waiting to be put into further stories. Alas, they will never be penned. Unless another scribe can be found to fit into the literary cadaver’s shoes!
Finding the right person, able and willing to be the carbon copy of the deceased is no easy matter. In more than one instance, the replacement was rejected by the waiting fans. Ought the author’s estate give up and regard it as a lost cause? Or continue its quest? Happily, in the case of James Bond, Ian Fleming’s estate struck the mother load in Anthony Horowitz. He has done himself proud in his rendition of 007. He did in The House Of Silk and does so again in Forever And A Day.
At present and for a while yet, Horowitz is drawing on outlines of stories Fleming penned in the 1950s and 60s. This reviewer trusts that the time will come when he updates with more modern plots.
In fact, Forever And A Day is set further back. It even predates Casino Royale, which introduced the hero full-blown. What was the Secret Intelligence Service before?
During WII, it was the Special Operations Executive. Sadly, it was riddled with spies of its arch-enemy, the Gestapo. It was determined that its replacement would be cleaner. A secret branch was created to ensure that. A retired British colonel, “M” was put in charge and given free rein.
M chose special agents, armed them with a license to kill. Assassinations were their speciality. When one agent is murdered in the south of France, a promising special agent is assigned to take care of it.
Enter James Bond (007) who does the job. In the process, he sinks a ship carrying heroin heading towards the UK, along with the French drug lord. He meets then loses Sixteen, a spy for hire.
I’m not slow to criticise novels deserving it. Yet, I’m fast to praise those well worth it. A Gold Star to Anthony Horowitz whose counterfeit Ian Fleming is undetectable.