From Russia With Love - Ian Fleming

Although easily digestible and passably entertaining, I am still baffled by the popularity of Fleming among otherwise quite highbrow commentators. The misogyny and racism is one thing (not too bad here compared to some Bonds I've read), but the quality of prose is shocking. One painful scene between our hero and the Russian seductress clumsily switches the perspective every other line, and interpolates explicit thoughts where a skilful writer would have implied everything through a competent use of dialogue.

And how about this for a bit of purple prose:

...Istanbul glittered at the end of the broad half-mile of bridge with the slim minarets lancing up into the sky and the domes of the mosques, crouching at their feet, looking like big firm breasts.