Wednesday, 15 August 2012

Ian Fleming on James Bond's all-Scottish parentage

In O.F. Snelling’s book Double O Seven James Bond: A Report (1964) there is a very interesting footnote tucked away in the chapter named ‘His Image’. This first study of the literary James Bond was published just before Ian Fleming’s then new novel You Only Live Twice went to press. As Snelling acknowledges in his Author’s Note Bond’s premature obituary notice towards the end of the novel provided many of the answers to the questions posed in his book. So short of re-writing the entire book before publication, Snelling added in a few footnotes where he felt it was necessary to provide the new details found in You Only Live Twice.



In discussing James Bond’s parentage, Snelling states that,

‘James Bond’s mother was Swiss. His father was Scottish: a Highlander from near Glencoe. Neither Bond or his creator lets drop much more about his family background.’

                                                            

There is a footnote after the first sentence quoted from that passage. It reads:



‘Bond is Scottish. On both sides, as I shall explain in my next book.’ Ian Fleming to John Creusemann, in an interview in the Daily Express, 2 January 1964.’ (Extracts, ‘007: James Bond A Report,’ O.F. Snelling, Panther, London, 1965, p. 22)



This is very interesting as when the obituary of James Bond was given in You Only Live Twice (1964), we find that he is actually of mixed parentage, and not Scottish on both sides as Fleming had apparently originally intended in the beginning of the year. In the obituary, which appeared in The Times we are told,



‘James Bond was born of a Scottish father, Andrew Bond of Glencoe, and a Swiss mother, Monique Delacroix, from the Canton de Vaud.’ (You Only Live Twice, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1966, p. 178)



Bond is therefore of Scots-Swiss blood and not wholly Scottish as Fleming declared he was going to be in the Daily Express interview Snelling quoted in his footnote. Fleming would have surely had the novel written at this stage, but perhaps he was still having it edited in places and perhaps this can explain why he decided to change the nationality of Bond’s mother. You Only Live Twice  was not published until the Easter of 1964, so he would still have had time from the date of the interview (late December 1963/ very early January 1964?) to have small details like this amended in the manuscript. Then again, perhaps it was a genuine mistake by Fleming and he had simply forgotten these few lines from his novel, but that would not really be like him. Fleming was nothing if not a stickler for these types of details. He liked to get the details of his characters and situations right if he could.



Did Fleming originally intend to have Bond as a purebred Scot, as the Daily Express interview quote would seem to suggest or is there another explanation? Evidently, Fleming later changed his mind and gave James Bond a mixed parentage. 


TBB Article No. 8



© The Bondologist Blog, 2007.

The Ian Fleming and Kingsley Amis References in John Gardner's The Liquidator (1964)

In the second chapter of John Gardner’s first novel, The Liquidator (1964), which was Brian Ian ‘Boysie’ Oakes first adventure there is an interesting passage that quotes some of the influences Boysie’s boss, Colonel Mostyn, subjects him to. As those who have read the novel will be aware, ‘Boysie’ Oakes is mistaken for being a ruthless killer when he saves Colonel Mostyn’s life by slaying two Germans who were going to kill him during the Second World War in Paris in August 1944. Mostyn was of course wrong to judge that ‘Boysie’ was a ruthless killer who might come in useful in the future, as he had acted out of nervousness and fear when he had shot the two Germans. Years later Mostyn, now the Second in Command of British Special Security, decides to recruit  Boysie Oakes to work as an assassin for the organisation to liquidate potential security risks. Mostyn, we are told, ‘brought his protégé to London for a long, arduous period of grooming and polishing’:

‘Mostyn personally supervised Boysie’s reading – which ranged from Cervantes and Luther to Murdoch, Amis and Ian Fleming. For weeks, Boysie was marched round the National Gallery, the Natural History Museum, the Tate, the Victoria and Albert and the Wallace Collection.’ (The Liquidator, John Gardner, Corgi Books, London, 1965, pp. 36-37)

Gardner here rather interestingly quotes the names of James Bond’s creator, Ian Fleming, and the Angry Young Man, author of Lucky Jim (1954), and future first Bond continuation author, Kingsley Amis. He places both authors in the rather esteemed company of Cervantes, Luther and Murdoch. It is rather ironic that John Gardner himself would become both authors’ immediate successor when he took over the mantle of the Bond continuation author and published Licence Renewed in 1981. It is also rather ironic that Kingsley Amis would attack Gardner’s Bond novels both privately in letters to his friend, the poet Philip Larkin, and publicly in a harsh review of For Special Services, entitled ‘Double Low Tar 7, Licence to Underkill’ for the Times Literary Supplement on 17 September 1982. Amis in many ways must have saw himself as the only true heir to Ian Fleming when he published the first continuation Bond novel, Colonel Sun, under the pen name ‘Robert Markham’ in 1968. He therefore clearly felt he was qualified, as one who had been that way before, to attack what he saw as sub-standard work that brought, in his opinion, the works of Ian Fleming into disrepute. In his Times Literary Supplement review, Amis had railed against Gardner quite personally from the start:

‘Quite likely it ill becomes a man placed as I am to say that whereas its predecessor was bad enough by any reasonable standard, the present offering is an unrelieved disaster all the way from its aptly forgettable title to the photograph of the author – surely an unflattering likeness – on the back of the jacket. If so that is just my bad luck. On the other hand, perhaps I can claim the privilege of at least a momentary venting of indignation at the disrepute into which this publication brings the name and works of Ian Fleming. Let me get something like that said before I have to start being funny and clever and risk letting the thing escape through underkill.’

Later on in the same review, Amis concludes,

‘What makes Mr Gardner’s book so hard to read is not so much its endlessly silly story as its desolateness, its lack of the slightest human interest or warmth. Ian Fleming himself would have conceded that he was not the greatest delineator of character: even so his people have genuine life and substance and many of them both experience and inspire feeling. So far from being the ‘man who is only a silhouette’ Bond is shown to be fully capable of indignation, compunction, remorse, tenderness and a protective instinct towards defenceless creatures.

[…]

By a kind of tradition, however, perhaps started by Buchan with Dominick Medina in The Three Hostages, the main character-interest in this type of novel attaches to the villain. Mr Big, Hugo Drax, Dr No and their like are persons of some size and power. They are made to seem to exist in their own right, to have been operating since long before Bond crossed their paths, rather than to have been run up on the spot for him to practise on. But then to do anything like that the writer must be genuinely interested in his material.’

John Gardner wrote about meeting Kingsley Amis at the Savoy Hotel in London in June 1984 in the section ‘The Bond Books’ on his website - http://www.john-gardner.com - in late 2001:

‘I was amazed to read recently, in Kingsley Amis’s letters, that Kingsley was convinced I was absolutely no good at producing a thriller of drama and tension. In fact he had commented to Philip Larkin that Peter Janson-Smith had thrown the manuscript of Licence Renewed back at me because it was so bad. This, of course, never happened except in the sense that I would take every manuscript back to do the necessary work to make a better book and comply with those changes I had accepted from the editor.

Amis was in fact quite amusing. I met him at a lunch party Len Deighton gave at the Savoy for Eric Ambler’s birthday. Out of devilment I said to him, “Kingsley, you’re quite right: the Bond books are terrible hokum. No good at all. Dreadful,” – he had reviewed Licence Renewed for, I think, The Times Literary Supplement, and it was a review in which he set about me with a cat o’ nine tails, the rack and the Chinese Water Torture. Kingsley looked at me in bewilderment, spluttering, “Oh no, my dear chap, no! No!”

Gardner is actually slightly mistaken in his recollections here. He had become confused about who exactly wrote which particular review. It was Philip Larkin, and not Kingsley Amis, who reviewed his first Bond novel, Licence Renewed under the title ‘The Batman from Blades’ for the Times Literary Supplement in May 1981. As was already stated, Amis actually reviewed For Special Services for the Times Literary Supplement in 1982. It is indeed interesting that Gardner and Amis met each other, and how their public and private thoughts about each other were so different. Of course when Amis was faced with Gardner, who was clearly trying to pull his leg, it would have been very unlikely that he would have said something rude like, “Oh no, no, my dear chap. Fleming’s Bond was anything but hokum. However, your incarnation brings his novels and indeed reputation into disrepute. You should be ashamed of yourself!” I suppose Gardner is trying to say that although Amis heavily attacked his Bond continuation novels in private letters and in print, he did not have the courage of his convictions to be downright rude and say face to face to him that his work was complete rubbish. It seems Gardner takes some comfort from this, that perhaps Amis’s bark was worse than his bite. Now Amis was a curmudgeonly character by all accounts, but on this evidence he clearly would not stoop so low as to attack an author to his face at a friend’s birthday party, despite his already much vaunted opinions in print. This was of course just good manners, and it wouldn’t really have been expected for Amis to have reiterated what he had written in his review of For Special Services, or to have laid bare his thoughts from his private letters to Philip Larkin. His hardened opinions about Gardner’s Bond novels probably never left him, but we have no record of what he thought of the others in the series, if he ever deigned to read any of them.

Another point of interest is the fact that all of these authors were either friends or had at least become acquainted with each other. John Gardner for instance met Kinsley Amis, his predecessor as Bond continuation author at a lunch party fellow spy novelist and friend Len Deighton gave at the Savoy for another spy novelist, Eric Ambler. Ambler, it will be remembered, was greatly admired by Fleming and Bond is actually reading Ambler’s The Mask of Dimitrios (1939) on the Orient Express with ‘Captain Nash’ in Fleming’s From Russia, With Love (1957). The public and private interactions about James Bond that occurred between these authors is fascinating and it would certainly have been very interesting to have been a fly on the wall at that lunch party at the Savoy which featured Gardner, Amis, Deighton, Ambler and undoubtedly other espionage authors of note.

TBB  Article No. 7

© The Bondologist Blog, 2007.

James Bond Novels that were Edited, Censored and Banned

Throughout the years Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels have been subjected to various forms of editing, censorship and even banning orders in some countries. The American editors of Fleming’s novels often wanted to change passages in terms of race and American culture, to correct small mistakes or to make Bond more acceptable to the native readership. The editing of the Bond novels ranged from changes in character names to changes in dialogue and description, to even changes in the actual title. Several of the novels were also banned in some countries due to their perceived violent and overtly sexual overtones. A study of the history of the editing, censorship and banning of Fleming’s Bond novels reveals some interesting new information.



The history of the editing of Ian Fleming’s Bond novels begins with the very first, CASINO ROYALE (1953). It was slightly edited in places when it was published in America to suit the sensibilities of the American audience. Andrew Lycett’s biography of Ian Fleming reveals how Fleming’s American editor toned down some of the language used to describe one of the love scenes between Bond and Vesper Lynd depicted in Fleming’s debut novel:



‘In New York, Al Hart, Ian’s editor at Macmillan, was wielding the blue pencil on Casino Royale. Ian was unconcerned about possible mutilation of his masterwork. Indeed he specifically asked Naomi Burton at Curtis Brown, “Would Al Hart like to take a bit of the edge off the torture scene? He can certainly do so if he wants to.” The incident, where Bond’s genitals were whipped with a carpet beater, remained intact, but Hart did suggest some alterations to spare the blushes of American readers. Where Ian had written, “He slipped his hands down to her swelling buttocks and gripped them fiercely, pressing the centres of their bodies together. Panting, she slipped her mouth away from his and they clung together while he rubbed his cheek against hers and felt her hard breasts pressing into him” Hart’s bowdlerised version did not quite have the same urgency: “His hand slipped down her back and pressed her body fiercely to his. Panting, she slipped her mouth away and they clung together; he brushed her ear with his lips and felt the firm warmth of her breasts against him.” Hart asked plaintively, “That’s not too emasculated, do you think?”



Ian could not care less. He told Hart that he had been kinder than Naomi Burton who had argued about “the relative impropriety attached to the front and back of a woman”. However, at this stage, Ian was more interested in sales promotion than textual exegesis.’ (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 249)



Later in Lycett’s biography of Fleming the re-launch of CASINO ROYALE under a new title in America is documented:



‘Bond provided the other main reason for Ian’s transatlantic jaunt. There were signs that the American reading public was beginning to take notice of him. In April a paperback version of Casino Royale had been published by Pocket books, with a new title, You Asked For It, and a suggestive dime-store cover showing a girl in erotic déshabillé.’ (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 275)



Since publication, some of Fleming’s Bond novels have also been banned in certain countries through falling foul of the censor. The earliest banning of a Bond novel was LIVE AND LET DIE, which was banned in the Republic of Ireland in 1954. Andew Lycett’s biography of Fleming confirms that this banning, rather like the joint condemnation from the Vatican and the Kremlin that met Eon Production’s DR. NO (1962), did the promotion of the novel no real harm:

‘The banning of Live and Let Die in Ireland in May helped the general publicity.’ (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 255)



The Republic of Ireland has a long history of banning books from publication. The Republic of Ireland’s culture was very moral and religious with Roman Catholicism being the religion of 93% of the population. The Irish Censorship of Publications Board that banned LIVE AND LET DIE are a still functioning independent board that was established by the Censorship of Publications Act, 1929 in Southern Ireland. Its function is to examine books and periodicals that are for sale in the Republic of Ireland. At the time of the banning of LIVE AND LET DIE from publication in 1954 the Censorship of Publications Acts of 1929 and 1946 governed it, but there was also a new act passed afterwards in 1967, which added an amendment limiting the period of prohibition orders of books to a period of twelve years, but the Board could then ban the book again. The Censorship of Publications Board could prohibit the buying, selling or distribution of any publication deemed indecent or obscene in the Republic of Ireland. Each of the five members of the Board had to read the publication under consideration before any decision on whether or not it was to be prohibited could be taken. For a book to be banned at least three members of the Board had to agree with the decision and only one member was allowed to dissent. When considering a book, the Board measured its literary, scientific and historical merit and also took into account the language in which it was written and the likely audience it was intended for. Some of Fleming’s literary contemporaries’ novels were also banned in the Republic of Ireland. Fellow espionage novelist Graham Greene’s novel THE HEART OF THE MATTER (1948) was banned for instance, as were works by the author of the ASHENDEN spy short story collection – W. Somerset Maugham, who influenced Fleming to write his Bond short story QUANTUM OF SOLACE. Evelyn Waugh, the author of BRIDESHEAD REVISTED, and an acquaintance of Ann Fleming, also had books that fell foul of the Irish censor. In 1950 the English poet, novelist and critic Robert Graves, who had work banned in the Republic of Ireland, described the Irish censorship laws as ‘the fiercest literary censorship this side of the Iron Curtain.’



Nowadays, however, the Republic of Ireland’s attitude to censorship has greatly changed. Since the 1990s the Censorship of Publications Board does not prohibit publications very often.  The popular Irish radio station RTÉ 2 FM plays songs from the top artists with any strong language unedited out before the watershed. RTÉ 2FM also has presenters who swear over the air long before the watershed. Such use of swear words is not generally tolerated on BBC radio for instance, and if swear words are broadcast the complaints that ensue mean an apology often has to be made. Some of the Irish tabloids, such as the Irish Daily Star also contain swear words in their headlines from time to time.



LIVE AND LET DIE (1954) also underwent censorship when it was published in America, mainly due to the depiction of the novel’s black villains, but also due to the correction of local details. As Andrew Lycett’s biography notes,



‘With a few changes for the local market, Live and Let Die was published in the United States in January to an unenthusiastic response. Only 5,000 copies were sold and Al Hart at Macmillan was uncharacteristically blunt when he said, “Mr Bond will have to do better than this.”’ (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 268)



The most visible change is the fact that Chapter 5 in the original British edition of the novel entitled ‘Nigger Heaven’ is unsurprisingly renamed ‘Seventh Avenue’ in the American edition. The American censor also heavily edited the dialogue in this chapter to the extent that a whole passage detailing an argument between a black man and his girlfriend is entirely cut, and dialogue spoken by Felix Leiter is also edited.



In the Berkley eighth printing of LIVE AND LET DIE in paperback form in October 1985 it says that ‘This Berkley book contains the complete text of the original hardcover edition,’ which is cited in the printing history as having first been published by Macmillan in 1954. The British edition featured this passage in the chapter entitled ‘Nigger Heaven’:



‘One can try,’ said Leiter. ‘But I know what you mean – better the frying-pan you know than the fire you don’t. It isn’t a bad life when it consists of sitting in a comfortable bar drinking good whisky. How do you like this corner of the jungle?’ He leant forward. ‘Just listen to the couple behind you. From what I’ve heard they’re straight out of “Nigger Heaven”.’  (‘Live and Let Die,’ Ian Fleming, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1963, p. 46)



The passage was changed considerably in the American edition:



‘One can try,’ said Leiter. ‘But I know what you mean – better the frying-pan you know than the fire you don’t. It isn’t a bad life when it consists of sitting in a comfortable bar drinking good whisky.’

They finished their drinks and Bond called for the check.’

(‘Live and Let Die,’ Ian Fleming, Berkley Books, New York, 1985, p. 41)



In the British edition Bond and Leiter had overheard an argument between a black man and his girlfriend that used the dialogue which Fleming, and indeed Raymond Chandler, were very impressed with at the time. The “Nigger Heaven” phrase that Leiter used in the British edition is also removed as it formed the chapter title in the original version. It was obviously removed, as it would have been seen as more overtly racist, offensive and derogatory to black readers and indeed to some of the American public at large. The physical descriptions of the couple and their dialogue took up over two and a half pages in the Pan paperback edition but the passage was entirely cut in the American edition. It could be said that the passage didn’t really contribute anything in terms of advancement of plot, but was just inserted by Fleming to give a dash of ‘local colour.’  Today Fleming’s descriptions and dialogue for his black characters are seen as rather patronising and even racially offensive, but such writing must be looked at from the very different social perspective of the times. In April 2003, however, Penguin Books published LIVE AND LET DIE in a new paperback edition in America, which restored the omitted text and included the original title of Chapter 5, “Nigger Heaven”. Fleming’s Bond novels had been out of print in America for a number of years before the Penguin reprints came along.



Not all of the changes in the text between the British and American editions of LIVE AND LET DIE were to do with the depiction of the black characters in the novel. Some of the changes that were made in the Macmillan edition had also to do with correcting minute mistakes that Fleming had made that would be spotted by the native population that were more familiar with such details. The interesting article ‘The Mystery Trains of LIVE AND LET DIE’ by John Cork of the Ian Fleming Foundation reveals some of the mistakes Fleming made about the trains Bond and Solitaire travel on in LIVE AND LET DIE, and the changes that Al Hart made as a result:



‘Bond and Solitaire travel on the Silver Phantom from New York in the novel, leaving the train in Jacksonville, Florida. Fleming describes the trains in Penn Station in the British edition: “Under the bare electric bulbs the horizontal purple and gold bands, the colours of the (sic) Seaboard Railroad, glowed regally on the streamlined locomotives.” [‘Live and Let Die,’ Pan Books Ltd, London, 1963, p. 95]



It seemed odd that Fleming would get a detail like this wrong. He travelled with a small notebook, which he kept to jot down just such notes. Nonetheless, Fleming's American editor, Al Hart, made some changes to the text, including to the above line. Hart altered the line to reflect the real colours of the Seaboard Air Line Railroad, including the train's proper full name. Even though the true Seaboard's colors [sic] were not as traditionally “regal” as Fleming's purple and gold bands. The American version reads as follows: “Under the bare electric bulbs the horizontal green, red, and yellow bands, the colours of the Seaboard Air Line Railroad, glowed regally on the streamlined locomotives.” [‘Live and Let Die,’ Ian Fleming, Berkley Books, New York, 1985, p. 83]



In fact, Fleming originally described the colours of the Atlantic Coast Line, a competitor of Seaboard's for the lucrative NYC to Florida market.’ (Excerpt from ‘The Mystery Trains of LIVE AND LET DIE’ by John Cork)



Another example of the many edits made to LIVE AND LET DIE concerns Fleming’s description of American cuisine. In the fourth chapter of the novel, ‘The Big Switchboard,’ Bond enjoys a meal in the British edition:



“He had a typical American meal at an eating house called ‘Gloryfried Ham-N-Eggs’ (‘The Eggs We Serve Tomorrow Are Still in the Hens’) on Lexington Avenue and then took a cab downtown to police headquarters, where he was due to meet Leiter and Dexter at 2.30.” (‘Live and Let Die,’ Ian Fleming, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1963, p. 34)



In the American edition the passage appeared slightly differently:



“He had a typical American meal at a restaurant called ‘Glorifried Ham-N-Eggs’ (‘The Eggs We Serve Tomorrow Are Still on the Farm Today’) on Lexington Avenue and then took a cab downtown to police headquarters, where he was due to meet Leiter and Dexter at two-thirty.” (‘Live and Let Die,’ Ian Fleming, Berkley Books, New York, 1985, p. 30)



In the American version the clever marketing ploy of combining ‘glorified’ with ‘fried’ to make ‘gloryfried’ is changed to ‘glorifried,’ it is described as a ‘restaurant’ and not an ‘eating house’ and the eggs are now advertised as being ‘on the Farm Today’ instead of still being in the hens. The time that Bond was due to meet Felix Leiter and Captain Dexter is also changed from figures in the British edition to words in the American edition. These cultural changes in the American edition were made because clearly the American editors were not nearly as amazed as Fleming - ‘the Englishman abroad’ - was by the different nature of American cuisine and culture. Perhaps they thought such references would be patronising for the American readership, as it would be instantly more familiar to them. It is perhaps ironic that the change was made to the slogan of the American ‘eating house,’ as Fleming, being the brilliant journalistic observer of other countries and cultures that he was, would surely have copied it verbatim from just such a place into his notebook for later use.



Fleming’s third James Bond novel, MOONRAKER (1955) was re-titled

TOO HOT TO HANDLE when Perma Books published it in America in 1956. Perhaps this was to avoid confusion with Arthur Watkin’s stage play THE MOONRAKER, which was running at the time and was filmed under the same title in 1958. As was the case with the first American editions of CASINO ROYALE, the novel was subtitled MOONRAKER on the cover. TOO HOT TO HANDLE was notable for being the only Fleming Bond novel that was “Americanised,” meaning the exchanging of American idioms for British ones such as “jack of hearts” for “knave of hearts” in the Blades bridge scene and “elevator” for “lift.” The title was later changed back to MOONRAKER in America in 1960.  Fleming and his publishers themselves went through various title suggestions for the novel, such as THE INFERNAL MACHINE, WIDE OF THE MARK and THE INHUMAN ELEMENT, before finally settling on the simple, yet effective, MOONRAKER.



On only two separate occasions did Ian Fleming intervene and change elements of the text and circulation of his Bond novels after publication. In his biography of the author, John Pearson reveals how Fleming was forced to revise a character name in DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER (1956) when the friend he had taken it from objected:



‘…[Fleming] found that his little habit of amusing himself by bestowing the names of friends or relatives on characters in his novels had this time involved him in a difficulty. […] But when Diamonds Are Forever was published one of the victims objected strenuously to Fleming’s private joke. This was Anne’s cousin, the present Lord Arran, the columnist, who in those days was known as “Boofy” Gore. As a surprise for him Fleming borrowed the nickname and attached it to a particularly unsavoury character in the book. Great displeasure had resulted, and this was the only occasion when Fleming is known to have apologised and changed the name of one of his characters in subsequent editions.



He had not meant to be unkind. Although he was the most selfish and egocentric of men in the way he planned his life and pursued his objectives, he could take much trouble over the people he cared for.’ (‘The Life of Ian Fleming,’ John Pearson, The Companion Book Club, London, 1966, pp. 300-01)



In Andrew Lycett’s biography of Fleming there is an elaboration on the “Boofy” Gore episode:



‘Ann was game enough to jump to her husband’s defence and help defuse a potentially tricky legal problem when, on Easter Day, she received an apopleptic call from her relative by marriage, “Boofy” Gore, later the Earl of Arran. Gore had been alerted by Lord Lambton to a passage in Diamonds Are Forever which ran, “Kidd’s a pretty boy. His friends call him ‘Boofy’. Probably shacks up with Wint. Some of these homos make the worst killers. Kidd’s got white hair though he’s only thirty. That’s why he works in a hood.” Ian had done his usual trick of assigning the names of friends and acquaintances to his characters. But Kidd was a particularly unpleasant character. Gore railed against Ann: Ian was his best friend, how could she have allowed him to do this? Ann replied that she was only married to Ian: she had neither written nor even read the book in question. Still fuming, Gore contacted Ann’s sister, Laura, who telephoned Ann, by then out at church for Easter Sunday matins. Fionn fielded her aunt’s abuse: “Your mother may like pansies but other people don’t. Don’t forget Boofy has a million friends and Ian has none.” (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, pp. 288-89)



Andy Lane and Paul Simpson’s book THE BOND FILES (2000) actually gives the character name change Fleming was forced to make in DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER:



“In the first edition of the book, Kidd was given the nickname ‘Boofy’ as a reference to a friend of Ian Fleming – ‘Boofy’ Gore – who later became Lord Arran. Gore was reportedly very unhappy that his nickname had been purloined, and Fleming had it changed in later editions to ‘Boofuls’ Kidd.” (‘The Bond Files,’ Revised and Updated Second Edition, Andy Lane and Paul Simpson, Virgin Publishing Limited, London, 2000, p. 23)



In the 1962 eight printing of DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER in Pan paperbacks, however, and therefore presumably in all of the previous Pan editions of the novel, Kidd is still referred to by Leiter in the text as ‘Boofy,’ and not the nickname ‘Boofuls’ which Fleming had it changed to. Presumably the change of Kidd’s nickname was made only in the later reprints of the novel in hardback by Jonathan Cape beyond the first edition, and Pan Books Ltd. took its’ text from the Jonathan Cape first edition which contained the ‘Boofy’ nickname. Then again, perhaps Arthur ‘Boofy’ Gore forgave Fleming and permitted him to allow the paperback edition to use his nickname, or, more probably he had no control over the paperback editions or perhaps he did not notice that they had reverted to using his nickname again.



There was a slight amendment made to later editions of Fleming’s FROM RUSSIA, WITH LOVE (1957). Fleming’s original manuscript had the title ‘From Russia, With Love,’ but later published editions of the novel had no comma in the title and a lower case ‘w,’ so that the title appeared as ‘From Russia with Love.’ The film version used this slightly amended title when it was released in 1963.



Fleming’s sixth Bond novel, DR. NO (1958) also underwent some amendments when it was published in different editions. DR. NO was serialised in America under the title NUDE GIRL OF NIGHTMARE KEY. Hutchinson Educational Ltd. published a special ‘junior’ edition entitled DOCTOR NO under their Bulls-Eye Books range in 1973, which was adapted from the Fleming source novel by Patrick Nobles. The violence, in what critics saw as Fleming’s most sadistic novel, was carefully toned down and the sexual content was removed entirely. As well as a simplified text, the Bulls-Eye edition of DOCTOR NO also included drawings of Bond’s guns, and sketch maps of the West Indies showing both Jamaica and a plan view of Crab Key. Other junior editions from Hutchinson Educational included Fleming’s LIVE AND LET DIE and THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN.



DR. NO was also the first Fleming Bond novel to contain a censored swear word (the f-word) in dialogue. In the particular scene Quarrel, on Bond’s instructions, is twisting the arm of the Chinese ‘freelance’ photographer, Annabel Chung in order to procure information, who for the second time has taken Bond’s photograph. Bond is trying to make the stubborn Chung see sense and relent to Quarrel’s pressure:



“Tell,” said Bond softly. “Tell and it will stop and we’ll be friends and have a drink.” He was getting worried. The girl’s arm must be on the verge of breaking.



“____ you.” Suddenly the girl’s left hand flew up and into Quarrel’s face. Bond was too slow to stop her. Something glinted and there was a sharp explosion. Bond snatched at her arm and dragged it back. Blood was streaming down Quarrel’s cheek. Glass and metal tinkled onto the table. She had smashed the flashbulb on Quarrel’s face. If she had been able to reach an eye it would have been blinded.” (‘Dr. No,’

Ian Fleming, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1965, p. 38)



In this instance it gave the scene more bite and added to the sense of the Chinese photographer’s clear venom at her captors.



In GOLDFINGER (1959) there is another rare four-letter word  (again the ‘f-word’) spoken by Bond in an understandably angry exchange with Goldfinger as a circular saw is about to cut him in half. In the scene in Chapter 15 of the novel, entitled ‘The Pressure Room,’ there is the following passage:



“Bond decided it was time to stop talking. It was time to start winding up the mainspring of will-power that must not run down again until he was dead. Bond said politely, ‘Then you can go and ____ yourself.’ He expelled all the breath from his lungs and closed his eyes.



‘Even I am not capable of that, Mr Bond,’ said Goldfinger with good humour.” (‘Goldfinger,’ Ian Fleming, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1965, p. 150)



The swear word was already edited out before publication, and it is an understandable piece of censorship. Perhaps it was even censored out like this on Fleming’s manuscript. Four letter words have never featured very heavily in Fleming’s novels and this was only the second time Fleming had used the ‘f-word’ in his dialogue. Although Fleming and his creation were certainly not prudish about strong language, these kind of swear words feel out of place in the literary Bond’s world, and are thankfully used sparingly by the author so that in the rare instance when they are used, they are all the more effective as a result. In Raymond Benson’s continuation Bond novels there has been a greater use of strong language. For instance, Benson’s second Bond novel, THE FACTS OF DEATH (1998) contained a passage where Felix Leiter used the ‘f-word’ heavily.



In THE JAMES BOND DOSSIER (1965) Kingsley Amis states that ‘The Spy Who Loved Me was banned in Australia and the Central African Federation.’ (‘The James Bond Dossier,’ Kingsley Amis, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1966, p. 85). The Central African Federation was brought into existence by the Conservative government in Britain in 1953 by combining the territories of Rhodesia and Nyasaland in southern Africa. It was also less commonly known as the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland and it came to an end in 1963. Australia still has high levels of book censorship compared to other democratic nations, such as in Europe and in North America. Many books are apparently banned in Australia through fears that they may offend certain segments of the population. Books containing erotica (which THE SPY WHO LOVED ME could possibly be said to qualify for with the cinema seduction scene with Derek) and illegal drug use are the most readily banned in Australia. In a footnote in THE JAMES BOND DOSSIER, Amis says that Punch disliked the book for being ‘pornographic,’ and he believed that the ‘hideous seduction scene in a cinema’ was what they were referring to. Amis actually thought that the scene could not be more anti-pornographic and, in defence of Fleming, noted that the term is commonly misused to mean ‘concerned with physical sex.’ (Ibid, p. 59) THE SPY WHO LOVED ME (1962) was most probably banned in these countries due primarily to the comments that arose from Fleming’s use of the first-person female viewpoint of the heroine, Vivienne Michel. Towards the end of the novel, after having just made love to Bond, she infamously suggests that,



‘All women love semi-rape. They love to be taken. It was his sweet brutality against my bruised body that had made his act of love so piercingly beautiful.’ (‘The Spy Who Loved Me,’ Ian Fleming, Jonathan Cape, London, Fifth Impression, 1963, p. 197).



It is somewhat strange that the novel did not follow the fate of LIVE AND LET DIE and receive a banning order in the Republic of Ireland also. The Censorship Board provided under The Censorship of Publications Act of 1929 and 1946 in the Republic of Ireland could prohibit the sale and distribution of a book that was not only ‘indecent or obscene’ but also that advocated ‘the unnatural prevention of conception or the procurement of abortion or miscarriage or the use of any method, treatment or appliance for the purpose of such prevention or procurement.’ Perhaps the abortion described by Vivienne Michel was the reason that the novel was banned in several countries around the world.  In THE SPY WHO LOVED ME, Vivienne Michel tells the reader how she was forced to have an abortion by her German lover, Kurt Rainer, when she tells him that she is pregnant with his child:



‘The business of my abortion, not to mince words, was good training for my new role. The concierge at my hotel looked at me with the world-weary eyes of all concierges and said that the hotel doctor was on holiday but that there was another who was equally proficient. (Did he know? Did he guess?) Dr Susskind examined me and asked if I had enough money. When I said I had, he seemed disappointed. The gynaecologist was more explicit. It seemed that he had a chalet. Hotels in Zurich were so expensive. Would I not care to have a period of rest before the operation? I looked at him with stony eyes and said that the British Consul, who was my uncle, had invited me to recuperate with his family and I would be glad if I could enter the clinic without any delay. It was he who had recommended Dr Susskind. No doubt Herr Doktor Braunschweig knew the Consul?



My hocus-pocus was just good enough. It had been delivered with my new decisive manner and the gambit had been thought out beforehand. The bifocals registered shock. There were coolly fervent explanations and a hasty telephone call to the clinic. Yes, indeed. Tomorrow afternoon. Just with my overnight things.



It was as mentally distressing but as physically painless as I had expected, and three days later I was back in my hotel.’ (‘The Spy Who Loved Me,’ Ian Fleming, Jonathan Cape, London, Fifth Impression, 1963, pp. 81-2).



After the largely negative critical fall-out which resulted from Fleming’s attempt to “examine Bond from the other end of the gun barrel” in which he had for the first time written a Bond novel in the first person narrative of the heroine, and in which Bond only appeared two-thirds of the way through, he tried to stop any further print runs of the novel. This was one of the few times that Ian Fleming actually acted as his own censor. As Lycett’s biography of Fleming reveals:



‘To his publisher Ian admitted that his “experiment” had “obviously gone very much awry”. As a result he asked [Michael] Howard [a director at Jonathan Cape] to help him ensure that The Spy Who Loved Me had “as short a life as possible”. Calling on Jonathan Cape to accept its share of their inevitable joint financial sacrifice in “as friendly a spirit as you can muster”, Ian requested that there should be no reprints and no paperback version of his controversial book. Ann’s reaction suggested what a trying partner she could be. Having badgered Ian and made him feel guilty about the book, she wrote to Evelyn Waugh the following day, telling him in confidence of her husband’s resolve. But, true to character and conscious of the need to keep the Bond cash cow producing, she could not resist adding flippantly, “I am doing my best to resolve this foolish gesture because of the yellow silk for the drawing-room walls.”’  (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 402)



After Fleming’s death in August 1964, Lycett reveals how Fleming’s wish not to have THE SPY WHO LOVED ME republished beyond its Jonathan Cape hardback editions and Book Club editions was abandoned:



‘The Fleming backlist was exploited for all its worth: after the idea of issuing The Spy Who Loved Me in paperback arose, Hugh Fisher, one of the title’s trustees, was unhappy about appearing to ignore Ian’s express wish that it should be assigned to the literary scrapheap. When Peter Janson-Smith, as Ian’s agent, produced solid evidence that Ian had not meant what he said, Fisher nevertheless felt duty bound to resign.’ (‘Ian Fleming,’ Andrew Lycett, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 446)



THE SPY WHO LOVED ME also appeared in a condensed form in Stag Annual men’s magazine, published by Atlas Magazines in 1964 under the title MOTEL NYMPH. It featured rather salacious illustrations of Vivienne Michel, Bond and the other characters from the novel. THE SPY WHO LOVED ME was finally published in paperback form by Pan Books in Britain in 1967, the year in which Fleming’s last three published Bond short stories also appeared in Pan paperbacks under the shortened title OCTOPUSSY.



Ian Fleming also stated that he did not want the film producers, Harry Saltzman and Albert R. ‘Cubby’ Broccoli to use any more than the title of the novel for any future film. He did not want any of the plot of his novel to be filmed, but wanted an original story to be written for the title. This was what happened when THE SPY WHO LOVED ME was filmed in 1977, of course. There were, however, two small links to the Fleming novel in Roger Moore’s third outing as James Bond, despite Fleming’s wishes. Fleming’s primary villainous thug in the novel, Sol ‘Horror’ Horowitz has steel-capped teeth, a feature which Karl Stromberg’s steel toothed henchman, Jaws, was to inherit. Another scene that was borrowed slightly from the novel was where Major Anya Amasova finds Jaws in her wardrobe on the train. In the novel, Vivienne had found ‘Horror’ hiding in her wardrobe.



In Soviet Russia it was not just the literary James Bond that was banned, but the cinematic incarnation also. As Vladislav Pavlov wrote in his article entitled ‘Behind Enemy Lines, The Russian Perspective’ in the ‘James Bond 007: Goldfinger’ Titan comic strip book:



“Penetration of the Iron Curtain was always quite a difficult task, even for a fictitious spy. The tightly sealed borders and propaganda machine sifted out all the material venerating the ‘capitalistic way of life’ and anti-Soviet ideas, leaving no chance for the forbidden fruits of the ‘decadent West’ to ripen. So it’s no wonder that anything concerning the notorious James Bond was officially banned in the USSR.”



At the beginning of the article there is an interesting quote from the state pedalled propaganda against Ian Fleming’s creation:



“James Bond lives in a nightmarish world where laws are written at the point of a gun, where coercion and rape is considered valour and murder is a funny trick.” (Yuri Zhukov, Pravda Newspaper, September 30, 1965)



Vladislav Pavlov reveals that despite this propaganda from the state organs against James Bond he was still a figure that was well known:



“the very names of Ian Fleming and his creation were well-known, and occasional articles, similar to Zhukov’s one, would appear in the Soviet media attacking 007, vilifying him, juggling with facts for the benefit of the regime. As a result, in this maze of propaganda, lies and distorted mirrors, the Russian people would catch occasional glimpses of Bond’s shadow.”



The article also makes it clear that there was an intellectual underground that took the risk and were able to get hold of Ian Fleming’s banned Bond novels:



“Some people studying English or those involved in the publishing business were also on occasion lucky enough to lay their hands on a few smuggled paperbacks, including Fleming’s novels. […] In short, to be published in the USSR, a novel had to be politically neutral, with no anti-Soviet ideas or, better still, actually criticise the American ‘way of life’. James Bond’s escapades did not match these criteria, so, for the huddled masses, 007 remained the proverbial forbidden fruit.”



With the advent of the era of perestroika and glasnost ushered in by Mikhail Gorbachev censorship in Russia was beginning to cease to exist. As Pavlov writes:



“Moreover, the first Russian editions of Ian Fleming’s novels appeared in bookshops, the short stories often published discreetly as leaflets. Due to the then lack of copyrights law, the market was all but deluged with various editions. Some translations were rough-and-ready; other editions contained incorrect information in Ian Fleming’s biography. Nevertheless, the reader was finally able to fully enjoy the James Bond novels, discovering him to be very different from the image drawn in the angry and slanted articles of the past.”



According to this article there is still work to be done in promoting the literary Bond in modern Russia as “the non-Fleming Bond novels are still out of favour with Russian publishers, except for Kingsley Amis’ Colonel Sun, and a couple of ‘books of movie’ by John Gardner and Raymond Benson.” (Extracts from ‘Behind Enemy Lines, The Russian Perspective,’ Vladislav Pavlov, ‘James Bond 007: Goldfinger’, Titan Books, London, 2004)



This study of the history of the banning, editing and censorship of Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels has revealed the changing nature of these practices throughout the years. It is interesting to consider how what were probably Fleming’s two most controversial novels, Live and Let Die and The Spy Who Loved, suffered the most stringent censorship and banning. The modern reader can indeed be grateful that Fleming’s Bond novels can now be read freely in almost all countries unedited and uncensored, as the author initially intended. Ian Fleming, it seems, had the last triumph, and his free speech and independent thought, no matter how controversial and unpalatable it was initially deemed, prevailed in the end. 

TBB Article No. 6

© The Bondologist Blog, 2007.

James Bond in Contemporary World War II and Cold War Events

The literary James Bond has been involved in some of twentieth century’s most pivotal historical events, as a trail through the novels will reveal. It seems that Bond was involved in some way with the secret service from before the beginning of the Second World War itself. The Head of S (the section of the Secret Service concerned with the Soviet Union) in the first Bond novel Casino Royale (1953) reveals to his Number Two who he thinks will get the project for the ruination of Le Chiffre at the baccarat table:

“One of the Double O’s - I guess 007. He’s tough and M thinks there may be trouble with those gunmen of Le Chiffre’s. He must be pretty good with the cards or he wouldn’t have sat in the Casino in Monte Carlo for two months before the war watching that Roumanian team work their stuff with the invisible ink and the dark glasses. He and the Deuxieme bowled them out in the end and 007 turned in a million francs he had won at shimmy. Good money in those days.” (Casino Royale, Pan Books Ltd., 1965, pp. 24-5) 

M later says to Bond during his briefing for the mission,

“I’m going to ask the Deuxieme to stand by. It’s their territory and as it is we shall be lucky if they don’t kick up rough. I’ll try and persuade them to send Mathis. You seemed to get on well with him in Monte Carlo on that other Casino job.” (Casino Royale, Pan Books Ltd., 1965, p. 26) 

Later on in Casino Royale are Bond is recovering in hospital from the horrific torture with the carpet beater that he received at the hands of Le Chiffre he recounts to Mathis how he earned his Double O status during the war for the secret service:

“‘Well, in the last few years I’ve killed two villains. The first was in New York – a Japanese cipher expert cracking our codes on the thirty-sixth floor of the RCA building in the Rockefeller centre, where the Japs had their consulate. I took a room on the fortieth floor of the next-door skyscraper and I could look across the street into his room and see him working. Then I got a colleague from our organization in New York and a couple of Remington thirty-thirty’s with telescopic sights and silencers. We smuggled them up to my room and sat for days waiting for our chance. He shot at the man a second before me. His job was only to blast a hole through the windows so that I could shoot the Jap through it. They have tough windows at the Rockefeller centre to keep the noise out. It worked very well. As I expected, his bullet got deflected by the glass and went God knows where. But I shot immediately after him, through the hole he had made. I got the Jap in the mouth as he turned to gape at the broken window.’

 Bond smoked for a minute.

‘It was a pretty sound job. Nice and clean too. Three hundred yards away. No personal contact. The next time in Stockholm wasn’t so pretty. I had to kill a Norwegian who was doubling against us for the Germans. He’d managed to get two of our men captured – probably bumped off for all I know. For various reasons it had to be an absolutely silent job. I chose the bedroom of his flat and a knife. And, well, he just didn’t die very quickly.

‘For those two jobs I was awarded a Double O number in the Service. Felt pretty clever and got a reputation for being good and tough. A double O number in our Service means you’ve had to kill a chap in cold blood in the course of some job.’” (Casino Royale, Pan Books Ltd., 1965, pp. 141-2) 

In the ‘Chronology of James Bond’s Adventures’ in James Bond: The Man and His World by Henry Chancellor it dates these two assassinations as happening between 1941-44, and it also claims that Bond was 17 when he claimed he was 19 and entered the RNVR as a Lieutenant, then the secret service between 1937-41. 

Dr. No (1958) gave one of the first mentions of Bond’s involvement in the armed forces during World War II before his entry into the world of espionage. When Dr. No’s men on the boat give their warning to Bond, Quarrel and Honey Rider over the loudhailer on the beach at Crab Key we are told:

“The machine gunner trained his gun into the tops of the mangroves behind the beach. There came the swift rattling roar Bond had last heard coming from the German lines in the Ardennes. The bullets made the same old sound of frightened pigeons whistling overhead.” (Dr. No, Pan Books Ltd., 1965, p. 77)

The Ardennes Offensive, or ‘the Battle of the Bulge’ as it is popularly called began on 16 December 1944 and ended on 16 January 1945. It was the last German offensive on the Western Front during the Second World War. The ‘bulge’ refers to the unsuccessful attempt by the Germans to drive a wedge into the Allied lines. After their invasion of Normandy in June 1944, the Allies moved rapidly across northern France into Belgium during the summer, but they lost their momentum in the autumn. General von Rundstedt’s Panzer Armies took advantage of the bad weather, which was hampering Allied aircraft and launched two parallel attacks with the aim of retaking the great port of Antwerp. The Fifth Army under General von Manteuffel had advanced by 24 December 1944 to within four miles of the Meuse River. However, by Christmas the inadequacy of German supplies and Allied resistance had halted the German offensive and ensured that this was to be the farthest point of the German drive. The Germans thereby made an orderly withdrawal between the 8 and 16 January 1945, having failed in their last desperate attempt to regain the initiative on the Western Front.

Further details of Bond’s wartime activities are given in M’s obituary for Bond in The Times in You Only Live Twice (1964):

“By now it was 1941 and, by claiming an age of nineteen and with the help of an old Vickers colleague of his father he entered a branch of what was subsequently to become the Ministry of Defence. To serve the confidential nature of his duties, he was accorded the rank of lieutenant in the Special Branch of the RNVR, and it is a measure of the satisfaction his services gave to his superiors that he ended the war with the rank of Commander. It was about this time that the writer became associated with certain aspects of the Ministry’s work, and it was with much gratification that I accepted Commander Bond’s post-war application to continue working for the Ministry in which, at the time of his lamented disappearance, he had risen to the rank of Principal Officer in the Civil Service.” (You Only Live Twice, Pan Books Ltd., 1966, p. 179)

There is something at odds here. In Dr. No we were led to believe that Bond’s wartime activities must have been in the army as the Ardennes mention suggests. But the You Only Live Twice obituary confirms that Bond was a Royal Volunteer Naval Reserve (RNVR) man. As Kingsley Amis points out in The James Bond Dossier (1965):

“But, even if Bond had learnt how to handle a bazooka in the Ardennes sector in 1944 (what was a Commander from Naval Intelligence doing there, by the way?), he had fairy-tale luck when he was allowed to snatch one off a U.S. soldier and fire it at Goldfinger’s hijacked train. Here reason makes a late come-back and, though Bond hits with his first and only shot, he inflicts no more than superficial damage.” (The James Bond Dossier, Kingsley Amis, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1966, p. 18-9)

In Thunderball (1961) Bond is sent to Shrublands to make to recuperate from his hard drinking and smoking. When Bond goes to see Mr. Joshua Wain in Consulting Room A he asks, “Bond to remove all his clothes except his pants.”

We are told that,

“When he saw the many scars he said politely, ‘Dear me, you do seem to have been in the wars, Mr Bond.’

Bond said indifferently, ‘Near miss. During the war.’”

After completing his inspection of Bond’s body, Wain informs him that there is:

“‘some right sacroiliac strain with the right ilium slightly displaced backwards. Due to a bad fall some time, no doubt.’ Mr Wain raised his eyes for confirmation.

Bond said, ‘Perhaps.’ Inwardly he reflected that the ‘bad fall’ had probably been when he had had to jump from the Arlberg Express after Heinkel and his friends had caught up with him around the time of the Hungarian uprising in 1956.” (Thunderball, Chapter 2, Pan Books Ltd., 1963, p. 21)

In October 1956 the Hungarians had revolted against the communist rule, but Khrushchev sent Red Army tanks onto the streets to swiftly and ruthlessly crush the uprising. Later on in the novel Thunderball  when Bond and Felix Leiter are welcomed on board a United States Navy submarine, the captain, Commander Peter Pederson, U.S.N., says to his guests,

“‘Well gentlemen. Welcome aboard. Commander Bond, it’s a pleasure to have a member of the Royal Navy visit the ship. Ever been in subs before?’

‘I have,’ said Bond, ‘but only as a supercargo. I was in intelligence – RNVR Special Branch. Strictly a chocolate sailor.’

The captain laughed. ‘That’s good!…’ (Thunderball, Chapter 20, Pan Books Ltd., 1963, p. 195)

Ian Fleming was of course also in Naval Intelligence during the Second World War, being the Personal Assistant to the Director of Naval Intelligence. He too held the rank of an honorary commander in the RNVR, and like Bond he was teased for being a ‘Chocolate Sailor’ who was more of an 'ideas man' who sat behind a desk in the Admiralty planning missions rather than out in the middle of the action as he would have liked to have been.

In the short story ‘Quantum of Solace’ from the For Your Eyes Only (1960) collection we are told what Bond’s mission had been:

“Bond had been in the colony for a week and was leaving for Miami the next day. It had been a routine investigation job. Arms were getting to the Castro rebels in Cuba from all the neighbouring territories. They had been coming principally from Miami and the Gulf of Mexico, but when the US Coastguards had seized two big shipments, the Castro supporters had turned to Jamaica and the Bahamas as possible bases, and bond had been sent out from London to put a stop to it. He hadn’t wanted to do the job. If anything, his sympathies were with the rebels, but the Government had a big export programme with Cuba in exchange for taking more Cuban sugar than they wanted, and a minor condition of the deal was that Britain should not give aid or comfort to the Cuban rebels. Bond had found out about the two big cabin cruisers that were being fitted out for the job, and rather than make arrests when they were about to sail, thus causing an incident, he had chosen a very dark night and crept up on the boats in a police launch. From the deck of the unlighted launch he had tossed a thermite bomb through an open port of each of them. He had then made off at high speed and watched the bonfire from a distance. Bad luck on the insurance companies, of course, but there were no casualties and he had achieved quickly and neatly what M had told him to do.” (‘Quantum of Solace,’ from For Your Eyes Only, Pan Books Ltd., 1965, p. 85)

This assignment saw Bond trying to stop Fidel Castro’s communist rebels from overthrowing the brutal regime of the pro-American dictator of Cuba, Fulgencio Batista. The rebel forces under Castro had launched their ultimately successful attacks against the regime in the autumn of 1958 and Batista was forced to flee with his family to the Dominican Republic on 1 January 1959. This left the rebel leader Fidel Castro in charge of Cuba, where indeed he remained as leader until ill health forced him to hand the reins of leadership to his brother (as Acting President of Cuba) on 31 July 2006.

Another assignment from the For Your Eyes Only short story collection is mentioned in passing in ‘The Hildebrand Rarity’:

“It had been nearly a month before when M had told Bond he was sending him to the Seychelles. “Admiralty are having trouble with their new fleet base in the Maldives. Communists creeping in from Ceylon. Strikes, sabotage – the usual picture. May have to cut their losses and fall back on the Seychelles. A thousand miles farther south, but at least they look pretty secure. But they won’t want to be caught again. Colonial Office say it’s safe as houses. All the same I’ve agreed to send someone to give an independent view. When Makarios was locked up there a few years ago there were quite a few Security scares. Japanese fishing-boats hanging about, one or two refugee crooks from England, strong ties with France. Just go and have a good look.” M glanced out of the window at the driving March sleet. “Don’t get sunstroke.”

Bond’s report, which concluded that the only conceivable security hazard in the Seychelles lay in the beauty and the ready availability of the Seychelloises, had been finished a week before and then he had nothing to do but wait for the Kampala to take him to Mombasa.” (‘The Hildebrand Rarity,’ from For Your Eyes Only, Pan Books Ltd., 1965, p. 156)

The continuation author John Gardner kept on the tradition of reporting Bond’s involvement in contemporary events in Icebreaker (1983):

“In more official terms, Bond was what the American Service speaks of as a ‘singleton’ – a roving case officer who is given free rein to carry out special tasks, such as the ingenious undercover work he had undertaken during the Falkland Islands conflict in 1982. Then he had even appeared – unidentifiable – on a television newsflash, but that had passed like all things.” (Icebreaker, Coronet Books, Hodder and Stoughton Ltd., 1984, p. 21)

The Falklands War was a brief, undeclared war fought between Argentina and Great Britain in 1982 over the control of the Falkland Islands. Argentina had claimed sovereignty over the Falkland Islands since the early nineteenth century but Britain consistently rejected Argentina’s claims, having administered the islands since 1833. In early 1982 the Argentine military junta under Lieutenant General Galtieri launched an invasion of the Falkland Islands. Argentine troops invaded the Falklands on 2 April 1982, rapidly overcoming the small garrison of British marines at the capital of Stanley. The British government under Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher assembled a naval task force with which to retake the islands. Perhaps Bond could have fitted among this contingent? The British naval force and the land-based Argentine air force fought intensive battles, the Argentineans sinking the HMS Sheffield and the container ship Atlantic Conveyor with Exocet air-to-sea missiles in the process. Argentina failed to stop the British from making an amphibious landing near Port San Carlos, on 21 May 1982.The large Argentine garrison at Port Stanley surrendered to the British on 14 June 1982 and this effectively ended the Falklands conflict. Argentina’s defeat in the war discredited the military government to the extent that it led to the restoration of a civilian government there in 1983. In Britain, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher converted the widespread patriotic support for her tough stance on Argentina into a landslide victory for the Conservative Party in the 1983 General Election. It seems fitting then to end this study of the literary James Bond’s involvement in contemporary events here as the Falklands War was seen by many as Britain’s last great outpouring of patriotic fervour for a war in a far-flung part of the dwindling Empire.

TBB Article No. 5

© The Bondologist Blog, 2007.

Arthur C. Clarke's "Mysterious" Involvement in Ian Fleming's Moonraker (1955)

Arthur C. Clarke (1917-2008), author of over one hundred books of fiction and non-fiction and broadcaster, seemingly had connections with Ian Fleming’s third James Bond novel, Moonraker (1955). In James Bond: The Man and His World: The Official Companion to Ian Fleming’s Creation(2005) by Henry Chancellor there is the following passage in the ‘Inspirations’ section for the novel Moonraker:




“The story of the Moonraker rocket targeting London and Bond’s attempts to stop it was originally conceived for a film. ‘The reason why it breaks so badly in half as a book,’ Fleming explained to Joyce Briggs, Rank’s script editor at Pinewood, ‘is because I had to more or less graft the first half of the book on to my film idea in order to bring it up to the necessary length.’ Ian’s film idea had been about a German V-2 rocket, which he had updated to an early intercontinental nuclear weapon – an extremely topical subject, as both the Americans and the Russians were rushing to develop this new technology. As he was not an expert in this field, Ian went to great lengths to make sure his Moonraker rocket was correct, writing to Arthur C. Clarke and the British Interplanetary Society to check his facts about range and accuracy.”

(Henry Chancellor, James Bond: The Man and His World: The Official Companion to Ian Fleming’s Creation, John Murray, London, 2005, p. 56).



Arthur Charles Clarke, born in Minehead, Somerset was to science fiction what Ian Fleming was to spy fiction, an innovator who changed the genre forever. Just as John Buchan and "Sapper" influenced Fleming’s spy novels, so the works of H.G. Wells and Olaf Stapledon influenced Clarke, and like Fleming with his literary predecessors, he was their literary heir. In 1937 Clarke joined the British Interplanetary Society, for which he twice served as Chairman, in 1946-7 and 1950-3 respectively, just before Fleming was referred to him when writing and researching Moonraker. The British Interplanetary Society was a small, advanced group, which met regularly to contemplate ways in which Man could be sent to the Moon. In London, from 1937 to 1941 Clarke was an Assistant Auditor with the Exchequer. During the Second World War, Clarke joined the Royal Air Force, serving from 1941-46, eventually becoming a radar instructor and technical officer on the first Ground Controlled Approach radar. In 1945, before leaving the RAF with the rank of Flight Lieutenant, and more than a decade before the first orbital rocket flight, he published a technical paper, “Extraterrestrial Relays”, in Wireless World, which became one of his most influential pieces of writing as in it he was the first to propose (and describe) a geosynchronous communications satellite. He discussed the possibility that radio signals could be bounced off a satellite with a geosynchronous orbit, calculating that, at a height of 23, 000 miles above the Earth, an object could sustain a fixed position over one particular place on the Earth. Clarke was paid £15 for his article, which anticipated the age of satellite communications. Clarke’s lawyer, who insisted it was too outlandish to be taken seriously, dissuaded him from patenting this idea. Clarke subsequently wrote a book on this subject, with the subtitle How I Lost a Billion Dollars in My Spare Time.[1]   After the war Clarke entered King’s College London, completing his BSc. degree with a First in Physics and Mathematics in 1948.

In the early 1950s Clarke discovered the southern oceans through scuba diving and in 1954 he moved to Sri Lanka, where he remained until his death in March 2008. This interest represents another connection with Ian Fleming as he was also a keen scuba diver who wrote evocative underwater scenes in novels like Live and Let Die (1954) and Thunderball (1961) and several of his short stories like ‘The Hildebrand Rarity’ and ‘Octopussy.’ Clarke wrote several celebratory non-fiction books about the ocean, namely The Coast of Coral (1956) and Indian Ocean Adventure (1961), which was written along with his diving partner, Mike Wilson. The fiction of this period, such as The Deep Range (1957) also reflected his new interest in the ocean. Clarke’s interest in scuba diving enabled him to experience something of the weightlessness of outer space. He established a deep-sea diving school in Sri Lanka, and he became an honoured resident of the island and Chancellor of Moratuwa University. The diving school, at Hikkaduwa, south of Colombo, was destroyed in the December 2004 tsunami and then rebuilt. It was Clarke’s collaboration with the film director Stanley Kubrick, however, which really led to his extraordinary fame as a science fiction writer and expert. When Kubrick asked him to expand his early short story ‘The Sentinel’ (1951) the result was the film script of the enormously successful 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). Clarke simultaneously fleshed out the story into a novel. In later years, Clarke became a household name beyond the realm of science fiction after the release of his two series, Arthur C. Clarke’s Mysterious World (1980) and Arthur C. Clarke’s World of Strange Powers (1985). His appearances in these television series brought him to a wider audience, which shared his fascination with the contemplation of events and circumstances, which seemed to be scientifically intractable. Clarke also provided the commentary for the American CBS television network on the lunar flights of Apollos 11, 12 and 15. Clarke was appointed CBE (Commander of the Order of the British Empire) in 1989 and knighted in 1998. Clarke had become a semi-hermit in Colombo and during his latter years he was partially immobilised in a wheelchair after contracting polio as a young man. 



Andrew Lycett’s biography of Fleming contains further details and gives a conflicting account of Arthur C. Clarke’s involvement which seems to contradict Chancellor:



“To check technical details of rocketry, Ian called on Writers’ and Speakers’ Research, the small agency set up by Joan Bright and Joan Saunders, wife of another of his wartime NID colleagues. They proposed he should get in touch with Arthur C. Clarke. But, since Clarke was away in the United States, the British Interplanetary Society suggested another scientist to cast his eye over the manuscript.”

(Andrew Lycett, Ian Fleming, Phoenix, London, 2002, p. 257.)



As Chancellor’s book lists “Lycett, Andrew, Ian Fleming, Wiedenfield & Nicolson, 1995” in the Bibliography of James Bond: The Man and His World at page 243, his information on Arthur C. Clarke and Moonraker appears to have possibly been corrupted from this original source, or perhaps it is from a letter Fleming received from Arthur C. Clarke or the British Interplanetary Society, or even a copy of the letter Fleming may have sent to Clarke. Chancellor’s book also contains a photograph of space-related clippings collected by Fleming. One particular picture of various satellites and spacecraft has the following text printed below it:



“This selection of cross-sections of satellites and other spacecraft features in a clipping collected by Fleming. This is precisely the sort of technology that would appeal to the Bond villain, and the later Bond films developed this further.”

(Henry Chancellor, James Bond: The Man and His World: The Official Companion to Ian Fleming’s Creation, John Murray, London, 2005, p. 123.)



The next two pages contain a side view and plan view photograph of a flying saucer. The text printed below the flying saucer reads:



“Fleming once interviewed the French inventor Henri Coanda, a scientist who had successfully designed and built a flying saucer, called a ‘lenticular aerodyne’ (above). It was powered by achieving a vacuum around the edge of the wing – see opposite from above.”

(Henry Chancellor, James Bond: The Man and His World: The Official Companion to Ian Fleming’s Creation, John Murray, London, 2005, pp. 124-5.)



It is clear from these connections and the clippings he kept for inspiration, that Fleming had an interest in space-age technology. The Space Race between the superpowers of the United States and the Soviet Union was burgeoning alongside the Arms Race at the time Fleming was writing Moonraker, so in this sense the novel was very topical and played on the very real fears of nuclear annihilation held by society at large. Although both Lycett and Chancellor give conflicting accounts of Arthur C. Clarke’s involvement in Fleming’s research and writing of Moonraker, Clarke, or perhaps some other notable scientist or expert of the time appear to have a small cameo in Fleming’s novel. When James Bond visits the Ministry of Supply to study Major Tallon’s record there, Fleming describes the expert Bond was assigned on rocket technology:



“Then he had had an inadequate half-hour in the Operations Room of the Ministry with Professor Train, a fat, scruffy, undistinguished-looking man who had been runner-up for the Physics Division of the Nobel Prize the year before and who was one of the greatest experts on guided missiles in the world.



Professor Train had walked up to a row of huge wall maps and had pulled down the cord of one of them. Bond was faced with a ten-foot horizontal scale diagram of some thing that looked like a V2 with big fins.



“Now,” said Professor Train, “you know nothing about rockets so I’m going to put this in simple terms and not fill you up with a lot of stuff about Nozzle Expansion Ratios, Exhaust Velocity, and the Keplerian Ellipse. The Moonraker, as Drax chooses to call it, is a single-stage rocket. It uses up all its fuel shooting itself into the air and then it homes on to the objective. The V2’s trajectory was more like a shell fired from a gun. At the top of its 200-mile flight it had climbed to about 70 miles. It was fuelled with a very combustible mixture of alcohol and liquid oxygen which was watered down so as not to burn out the mild steel which was all they were allocated for the engine. There are far more powerful fuels available but until now we hadn’t been able to achieve very much with them for the same reason, their combustion temperature is so high that they would burn out the toughest engine.”



The professor paused and stuck a finger in Bond’s chest.

“All you, my dear sir, have to remember about this rocket is that, thanks to Drax’s Columbite, which has a melting point of about 3500 degrees Centrigrade, compared with 1300 in the V2 engines, we can use one of the super fuels without burning out the engine. In fact,” he looked at Bond as if Bond should be impressed, “we are using fluorine and hydrogen.”



“Oh, really,” said Bond reverently.



The Professor looked at him sharply. “So we hope to achieve a speed in the neighbourhood of 1500 miles an hour and a vertical range of about 1000 miles. This should produce an operational range of about 4000 miles, bringing every European capital within reach of England. Very useful,” he added drily, “in certain circumstances. But, for the scientists, chiefly desirable as a step towards escape from the earth. Any questions?”

(Ian Fleming, Moonraker, Pan Books Ltd., London, 1963, pp. 71-2.)



In this passage it is evident that Fleming has copied almost verbatim the words of possibly Arthur C. Clarke, or if Lycett’s account is correct, some other eminent scientist or expert in the field from the British Interplanetary Society. Clarke was certainly qualified to give expert advice to Fleming on the technical details of rocketry in Moonraker. In 1961 he won the Unesco Kalinga Prize for his numerous factual books on popular-science, and later he won the American Association for the Advancement of Science Westinghouse Award in 1969. This technical knowledge also informed the narrative of his science fiction. In 1986 the Science Fiction Writers of America made him a Nebula Awards Grand Master. The ‘Professor Train’ sequence from Moonraker, with its technical exposition on rocketry for Bond and the reader, is like a blueprint for the Q/Bond scenes with Q the boffin giving Bond the run-down on his various gadgetry and Bond being very flippant, rather as the literary Bond is here at one point. There is a hint of this where in the quoted passage above Bond reverently replies, “Oh, really” to Professor Train’s imparted technical information. Perhaps this scene from Moonraker was as much of a influence on the Q/Bond relationship in the films as the Major Boothroyd ‘Armourer’ character from the novel Dr. No was, who eventually developed into Q, the head of Q Branch in the subsequent films after Dr. No (1962), as played by Desmond Llewelyn. The relationship between Bond and an expert is certainly similar in this sequence.



While it is unclear exactly whether Arthur C. Clarke was involved in helping Ian Fleming get the technical details correct in Moonraker, it is certainly an interesting fact that Fleming was referred to him as an expert and may well have decided to embellish his information in a character called ‘Professor Train’ in an amusing, but also informative sequence from his third Bond novel which may have been a literary influence for the later Q/Bond sequences from the Bond films. It also shows Fleming’s dedication to his writing and his desire to represent technical and scientific information in an accurate and believable way, to ease the reader into Bond’s more outlandish world, in much the same way as he used famous brand names to also ease the reader into Bond’s world. It remains a “mysterious” chapter of the already fascinating history of the Moonraker novel, and the discrepancy between the accounts of Lycett and Chancellor does not provide a definite confirmation of Arthur C. Clarke’s involvement in Ian Fleming’s Moonraker. The truth surrounding his involvement in Moonraker therefore remains a mystery worthy of Arthur C. Clarke’s Mysterious World.



[The Sir Arthur C. Clarke biographical details are taken from the Obituaries for the author printed in The Times (pp. 76-7), Thursday 20 March 2008, and The Independent (pp. 50-1), Thursday 20 March 2008.]




This article is dedicated to the memory of Sir Arthur C. Clarke who was born in Minehead, Somerset on 16 December 1917, and died in Colombo, Sri Lanka on 19 March 2008, aged 90.


TBB Article No. 4

 © The Bondologist Blog, 2008



[1] Macintyre, Ben, ‘A man on the Moon? It was all thanks to H.G. Wells,’ The Times, Friday 21 March 2008, p. 23.