Despite Fleming's patriotism and notable contributions to Britain's war effort, the picture Mr Shakespeare draws is of an entitled, selfish misogynist.
He was about five feet ten inches high, of full habit, and, without prejudice, I must be allowed to say, was a man whose whole appearance was sinister and repugnant.
Like the author, Alina and Laura are from Mexico City, but meet in their 20s while living in France, bonding over their distaste for " the human shackles" of parenthood.
The mad passions of a hunted animal stirred within him, and he loathed the man who was seated at the table, more than in his whole life he had ever loathed anything.
It is a wonder he has promised to come, for he is a man averse to society, and mostly keeps entirely with the clergy on these confirmation tours, or circuits, or whatever they call them.
Perhaps the invisible rays that struck me while I sat at work on the Dome are something like those which attract and repel people at first sight, concerning which so much nonsense has been written.
This nasty edge wasn't always helpful, but it served a purpose, writes Mr Isaacson: many would “end their litany of horror stories by saying that he got them to do things they never dreamed possible.”
The one hated it, because she had experienced all the horror of it; the other, because not having experienced it, she looked upon it as something strange and at the same time disgusting and offensive to human dignity.