Sometimes you just have to give up. Sometimes you accept that parts of popular culture, appreciated by millions of intelligent people, are not for you.
I never got Star Trek – too sententious, too predictable, too obviously reliant on tired and worn SF tropes presented as brand new. Though I had lunch the other day with the chief executive of a highly successful high tech company who adores it.
I have never got James Bond. The films seem too kitsch, too unbelievable, too walled into the early Sixties culture of dolly birds, dinner jackets, ghastly easy listening music and outdated sexism. (Though the Daniel Craig films are darker, admittedly.)
I have never got the books either. See the above. Ian Fleming, by all accounts a pretty unreconstructed type, heavy drinker, heavy smoker (which is what carried him off), modelled his hero on himself. The books are sadistic, outdated, sexist, snobbish, reactionary and, frankly, preposterous. The Star Trek end of more serious spy fiction such as Le Carre.
They have never received the critical drubbing handed out to other authors whose outdated writing is seen to transgress today’s code of political correctness. See CS Lewis (wrongly, in my view, of which more another time. He was not Islamophobic.)
See the various 1920s and 1930s work by writers such as “Sapper”, a pseudonym, creator of Bulldog Drummond, and others where the villain is almost invariably an eastern European Jew, now literally unpublishable and no bad thing. Even dear old Richmal Crompton had to have her oeuvre purged of “William and the Nasties”. (Google it and boggle.) And she had some pretty unsound ideas about colonialism.
Fleming has for some reason avoided all this PC-inspired revisionism. Now there is a new James Bond film out, perhaps someone will take up the challenge.