now that i've finished harry potter - i still can't believe that potter and shelly long end up pouring their entire savings into a huge house which winds up to be a lemon...wait.
that's not right. that's the plot of the money pit.
anyway. now that potter's done i have returned to my summer of ian fleming, and diamonds are forever, while still not as good as live and let die, is giving me plenty of reasons why i like the series. while i find some of felix leiter and james bond's embarrassingly racist commentary unforgivable (it was the mid-fifties, and people were absolutely, positively stupid about such things...come to think of it many people still are) i find a unabashed glee at good, pulpy lines like ernie cureo's "Golf ain't their game. The only irons they can handle are in their pockets."
but tonight, while enjoying the best vanilla latte on this side of the state (at saratoga springs' uncommon grounds) i was hit with a wonderful chapter involving the budding love between mr. bond and ms. tiffany case. here's what mr. bond says to ms. case:
"'Not necessarily,' said Bond. 'Matter of fact I'm almost married already. To a man. Name begins with M [mr. bond's boss]. I'd have to divorce him before I tried marrying a woman. And I'm not sure I'd want that. She'd get me handling round canapes in an L-shaped drawing-room. And then there'd be all those ghastly "Yes you did - no I didn't" rows that seem to go with marriage. It wouldn't last. I'd get claustrophobia and run out on her. Get myself sent to Japan or somewhere.'"
and while i'm far from being close to feeling the exact same way, the tenor of the statement - while i sat there in uncommon grounds - let loose a torrent of (no doubt repressed) memories about a situation i was in at new oreans' tailgator's cafe with the notorious ms. K___, where a similar line of thinking came to my head. it was one of those moments that you find yourself in books, you know? the reason you keep reading.
so i was having a pleasant synergy of thoughts, ready to plot out a visit to mr. fleming's grave to give him proper respect when, mere paragraphs later, i read mr. bond's thoughts after he made ms. case angry:
"Bond put an arm round her and held her to him. 'My darling.' He knew that nothing but the great step of physical love would cure these misunderstandings, but that words and time had to be wasted."
ah, yes. the old "we shouldn't talk, let's just have sex and things will work out" mentality. i guess, in the end, mr. fleming ain't no shakespeare, after all.