You Only Live Twice might be my least favorite of Fleming’s James Bond stories. The characters are one-dimensional parodies (even by Fleming standards), Fleming spends far too much time describing the gardens surrounding the Castle of Death, and Blofeld and Bunt are hopelessly incompetent! Instead of an epic showdown to last the ages, we get a tottering old fool in the form of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, a shadow of his former imperious megalomania, and his half-witted wife Irma Bundt purchasing a castle in Japan in order to allow people to more easily commit suicide? Seriously, the man who first held the world at ransom with two stolen nuclear weapons in Thunderball then attempted to inflict mass starvation through engineered famine in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service goes on to raise the stakes by…populating his garden with every manner of poisonous flora and man-eating fauna so that depressed Japanese salarymen can still kill themselves in a spectacular manner (as, apparently, dictated by the Shinto religion?) while not doing so with the more “favored” methods such as throwing themselves under a pile driver or in front of a speeding train.
Even the “last, great, deciding battle” with Blofeld is lackluster: Bond gets lucky and the fight is over within a page or two. It’s bad. Like, it’s really bad. There’s no real sense of danger. There’s no real suspense. It’s just Fleming gushing about how wonderfully civilized the Japanese are since The War and how much he’s learned about poisonous plants over the course of his life.
Skip this one and read Thunderball or On Her Majesty’s Secret Service again.
If you’re looking for completion, go ahead and grab it on Amazon (affiliate link)