I heard of this book and wanted to read it long before I ever found a copy. It is quite difficult to find a print copy of this 1962 James Bond (or J*mes B*nd as it is written in the book) novel at a reasonable price. Hardly surprising since it was first printed only as an insert to the "Harvard Lampoon," then as a limited edition paperback by Signet...extremely limited once the real Ian Fleming legally quashed the printing and prevented the two parodists responsible for the book, Michael Frith and Christopher Cerf, from ever writing about Bond again, in perpetuity. Well, that was then, and this is now, and while the writers may still be banned from the Fleming Universe, the book is now available in electronic form, without a $$$ price tag attached.
It's relatively easy to satirize a genre, a particular title, or a specific author, because you take the conventions of that genre, the plot highlights of a title, or the eccentricities of a writer's style and exaggerate those points to an outlandish degree. Parody is much more difficult because the goal is to write a funny book but in the exact style of the writer, no matter how grotesque the plot elements or supporting characters. During the spy craze of the 60s some of the writers seeking to fill wire spinners with lurid paperbacks tried to imitate Fleming's style, but they found he was a very tough nut to crack. His style is straightforward, almost pedestrian, and rises to literary heights only when writing about food, sports, guns, villains, cars or torture...some might claim, for example, that Bond's golf game with Auric Goldfinger is the highlight of "Goldfinger," and the whole world knows the phrase "shaken, not stirred" when it comes to Bond's choice of alcohol. All Fleming's characters, even Bond, pale before his freakish villains--dwarfish sociopaths, sharp metal teeth, football-shaped heads, eyes like staring china dolls, and monomaniacal perverts. In "Alligator," the writers perfectly capture Fleming's style, especially when writing about food, sports, guns, villains, cars and torture.
There are many similarities between "Alligator" and "Goldfinger," beginning with the villain, Lacertus Alligator, a short unpleasant man with a misshapen head, metal teeth and a passion for purple. In "Goldfinger," Bond immediately judges Goldfinger a troublemaker because he is short, ascribing most of the ills of the world to the actions of short people. In "Alligator," B*nd also gives short shrift to Alligator for the same reason: "I never trusted short people. Their mothers always tell them about how well Hitler and Napoleon did and they grow up thinking they can do the same thing." And as with Goldfinger, B*nd first meets Alligator across a card table, only this time the villain is not cheating at Canasta in Miami, but Go Fish! ("Yes, sir, I am familiar with the game, a variation of Authors, is it not?") in a London club. It will be obvious to the reader that Alligator's deaf Bulgars are standing behind B*nd and indicating that Alligator should ask for Threes by holding up three fingers, but B*nd will not catch on until we have several chapters of Flemingesque card-game narration. And I should also point out that Alligator has the habit of spraying everyone he meets with a purple vegetable dye (harmless, but annoying), mimicking the shellacking Goldfinger gives the unfortunate Miss Masters.
The costly (to Alligator) confrontation at Go Fish! is only the overture to the main action, a crime on a grand scale. Instead of breaking open a piggy bank like Fort Knox, Alligator commits a crime far more grandiose (and believable): he steals landmark London buildings including Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament -- with the members of Lords and Commons on Board -- and the Prime Minister, Queen and Lord Snowdon and floats them to Bermuda. And he paints them purple, including the people. Of course, no one realizes they are in Bermuda or that Alligator is behind the theft; the ransom note blames T.O.O.T.H. (The Organization Organized To Hate), and B*nd is sent to investigate, a trail that eventually leads him to Alligator.
All through the book, the writers take Bond's mannerisms and eccentricities and transfer them to B*nd, using Fleming's deadpan and matter-of-fact style. He orders confidently and ludicrously from every menu he sees, tells chefs and bartenders how to make his food and drinks, and drinks enough for the entire 00-Section. He womanizes like his Fleming counterpart, but sometimes wonders if his chief is right about it causing him to lose his focus, usually as he fails to notice something that should be obvious.
If you're not a fan of Ian Fleming or a devoted reader of the James Bond novels, most of the nuances of the book will be lost on you. Likewise, if you know Bond only from the films, you will be left wondering what is going on. Though the novel does succeed somewhat on its own as a comic adventure novel, to be fully successful it really needs a reader conversant with the peculiarities of the Bond novels, which are quite different from the films. But if you are a Fleming fan and a dyed-in-the-wool Bond reader, then you have to read this book...and now you can.
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