Ian Fleming suppressed The Spy Who Loved Me after brutal reviews — but this James Bond novel reveals a surprisingly modern take, argues Freddy Lowe.
One of the Internet’s best James Bond tweets comes from an anonymous user who wrote this in 2026:
‘I am so glad I read James Bond novels as a teen and consequently thought that a man who wanted enthusiastic consent to sex and was interested in the woman enjoying herself was standard.'
‘In a world of Dereks and Kurts and Sluggsys, be the James Bond.'
Freddy Lowe
Casual observers of the series would be forgiven for finding this sentiment preposterous, given the fictional spy’s not exactly stellar reputation with women. But hardcore Bond fans – especially fans of Fleming’s original novels – will find this tweet quite familiar. Fleming’s depiction of masculinity is one of the most compelling – and surprising – elements of the Bond novels, and not just in terms of consent. No Bond story expresses this better than The Spy Who Loved Me.
Fleming’s 1962 novel bears no resemblance to the Roger-Moore-starring film of the same name. Legend has it that Fleming received such vitriolic reviews for the work that he insisted any adaptation would use the title and nothing else. It is such a shame he was bullied into disowning it, because it is one of the best things he ever wrote – in my opinion, surpassed only by Casino Royale and possibly On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.
The novel is narrated by a young Canadian woman, Vivienne Michel. Vivienne is a funny and relatable protagonist who learns very quickly that the world is full of horrible men, and so gives up being the meek, submissive girl and starts travelling the world on a motor scooter. Things go well until her life is threatened by a pair of gangsters – in circumstances I will leave unspoiled. By a stroke of luck, James Bond comes on the scene (only in the novel’s final third), and restores not only Vivienne’s agency but her faith in men.
Through Vivienne’s perspective, Fleming describes a world where masculinity has gone very awry: almost all male characters are obnoxious, leering, violent people with no respect for women’s bodily boundaries. Then Bond is introduced as an antidote to these men, as someone who embodies tenderness, care, and outer-directedness to the woman’s needs and safety. The whole story is a fable juxtaposing Bond’s model with the others.
Vivienne’s history of boyfriends is a disheartening one. Her first boyfriend is Derek, who demands sex at a cinema, of all places, where she would literally rather do anything else. During sex, she wishes Derek would say ‘something sweet and loving, but he was intent and purposeful, manhandling me almost brutally’ – and then he leaves her because he is engaged to someone else. Her second boyfriend, Kurt, is a Nazi sympathiser who’s hardly any better. Then she meets the gangsters – codenamed Horror and Sluggsy – who explicitly threaten to rape and kill her.
But what makes The Spy Who Loved Me surprisingly modern is that male harassment is not confined to obvious comic-book villains. Vivienne also endures unwanted advances from employers, even ones who otherwise treat her well, and she admits on her travels, while having an otherwise great time, that ‘of course I had to put up with a good deal of wolf-whistling’. So entrenched is this culture of hyper-masculinity that she even worries people won’t believe her about Horror and Sluggsy’s sexual assault, because ‘why had I dressed up like that, to kill, if I expected to be alone?’ (When she asks Bond if he believes her, he says, ‘Of course. Every word.’)
Of course, the novel is not a sob story. Vivienne’s coming-of-age arc deserves a whole essay in itself, and as she gets older, one of the skills she learns is giving as good as she gets. But against this backdrop of male depravity – enter 007. He provides a welcome antidote to all of these men and a far more compelling model of masculinity.
The first thing that makes him stand out is very basic but worth stating: the sex is consensual and enthusiastic. This is the main difference between Fleming’s Bond and Connery’s Bond. Fleming’s Bond never forces sex on people like Connery does in the adaptations of Goldfinger and Thunderball.
Bond is also described as being ‘tender’ and ‘gentle’ with Vivienne. References to Bond’s ‘tenderness’ proliferate in Fleming’s novels; in Thunderball, a doctor lets him visit Domino Vitali’s hospital room (against the rules) because ‘it is what she needs – some tenderness’. The Spy Who Loved Me is no different. He kisses Vivienne ‘gently’ on the lips (to which she responds with unambiguous enthusiasm), and she later describes him as being ‘tenderly fierce’. This is a direct contrast with the other men, especially Derek’s decidedly untender actions at the cinema.
The second thing that makes Bond different is his outer-directedness. He is totally focused on Vivienne. As the novel’s best line reveals, ‘When danger came, he could have saved his own skin. But he had fought for my life as if it had been his own.’ The novel is full of men who ‘save their own skin’ metaphorically: Derek, who leaves her after sexual satiation, and Kurt, who abandons her in even more selfish circumstances. Bond’s relationship with Vivienne exposes him to far more danger than either of those men faced, and yet he refuses to leave her until she is safe. He takes responsibility for the women he encounters and pays attention to them.
This includes even very small acts. One of the best scenes is when Vivienne cooks Bond bacon and eggs while they are at gunpoint (I promise it’s less weird in context), and his simple words of genuine gratitude are something she has not had from any man before.
He even writes Vivienne a letter at the end to make sure she will be safe after he leaves. I won’t spoil its contents here because it is such a beautiful finale, but it totally contradicts the fictional spy’s sordid reputation. Without giving anything away, he doesn’t just save her life; he does it in a way that restores her agency.
Of course, The Spy Who Loved Me does not turn Bond into a lovable old darling. His famously dark, cruel edge is still very present, although it is rarely directed at Vivienne; in fact, she frequently describes the ‘reassuring smiles’ he gives her. But Fleming still makes no secret of his professionally mandated brutality. Some people have even read the novel as Fleming’s cautionary tale against the essential cruelty of Bond’s profession. This is certainly true – one character, Captain Stonor, correctly warns Vivienne against making a habit of romanticising spies, because they are by their nature cruel and vicious – but two things are true at once in this novel. Fleming exposes the sordidness of espionage and showcases Bond’s superior treatment of Vivienne on an individual level.
Similarly, this is not to argue that the novel is a searingly modern, trailblazing feminist manifesto. It still has gallopingly outdated lines, including one inexplicable moment when Vivienne writes, ‘all women love semi-rape’. This line is unfathomable because the novel is very explicit elsewhere that rape is appalling. Whatever Fleming was getting at, the wording has aged like milk to say the least.
Nevertheless, anyone thinking about Fleming’s treatment of women should treat The Spy Who Loved Me as compulsory reading. Through James Bond’s relationship with Vivienne Michel, Fleming draws a model of masculinity that stands out in the story’s backdrop of male depravity. Bond is tender with women. He treats enthusiastic consent as the baseline. He is hyper-focused on what Vivienne needs and wants. He pays attention, gives reassuring smiles, believes her testimony, writes supportive letters, and fights viciously to preserve her life. The novel gives us a fantasy of complex male heroism that sacrifices neither respect for women nor the male hero’s gritty stoicism.
This is partly why Fleming appeals so much to readers like me and the tweeter quoted above. At its core, The Spy Who Loved Me is a gripping adventure, a powerful love story, and a moving coming-of-age narrative. But it also tells us one clear thing: in a world of Dereks and Kurts and Sluggsys, be the James Bond.
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