A Bond who leaves his fans shaken

The danger of latter-day attempts to modernise popular fictional characters is that they may end up resembling their own parodied versions. James Bond — whose attraction lies in his obvious flaws and foibles — is particularly vulnerable, as his newest book avatar has distinct Austin Powers moments. While the storyline of Antony Horowitz’ Trigger Mortis races along to the satisfaction of diehard action fans, squabbling domesticity with a live-in past love, remorse about past victims, the acquisition of a gay friend and even twinges of conscience about chain-smoking put Bond dangerously on the path to metrosexuality. What next – a chest wax and organic goji berries before downing a skinny latte with gal pals instead of getting the bad guys and bedding the good girls a la the retrosexual Ian Fleming original?

Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot was also rebooted last year by Sophie Hannah in The Monogram Murders but thankfully the pernickety Belgian reappeared with all his biases — and brilliance — intact. Sherlock Holmes has also had his share of re-engineering benedictions, including American translocation on TV. But even fictional characters must have some consistency, if only to stay true to their times, themselves and their fans. Too modernised a Bond will leave admirers shaken, not stirred.