James Bond and Me
Ian Fleming interviewed by Anne Britton (Books and Bookmen, May 1960)
Just eight years ago a character called James Bond was born.
His dossier kept by the Russian organization SMERSH described him: “eyes: blue; hair: black; scar down right cheek and on left shoulder; signs of plastic surgery on back of right hand; all-round athlete: pistol shot, boxer, knife thrower; does not use disguises. Languages: French and German. Smokes heavily (NB: special cigarettes with three gold bands); vices: drink, but not to excess, and women. Not thought to accept bribes.”
Quite a man, this James Bond, whose yearly appearance causes more discussion, jealousy, disgust and admiration than any other thriller “hero.”
His creator, Ian Fleming, has a good deal to say on the subject.
“I wrote the first book, Casino Royale, in the few months before I got married. It was better than biting my nails and thinking that getting married at forty-three was too big a step. I took the name James Bond from the author of a bird book on Jamaica, thinking it would make him sound neutral. I had no intention of writing another book with the same character. But he’s popular and until I grow out of him, I shall go on writing about him.
“The last thing I wanted James Bond to be was the hero type. Rather the opposite.” In Casino Royale he made this clear in a revealing chapter ending. “…with the warmth and humour of his eyes extinguished, his features relapsed into a taciturn mask, ironical, brutal, cold.”
“I wanted Bond to be a strong character, masculine, a composite figure made up of the commando types and spies I met during the war. He is a man who gets involved. Many of the English thriller heroes these days are ordinary men who find themselves in circumstances against their nature. Bond is not a character that readers can identify themselves with, perhaps that is his strength. Rather it is wishful identification.
“He is intended to be a blunt instrument in the hands of a Government department and his quirks are to give him added character. Take his interest in expensive food and drink: good food and wines were still scarce when I started the first book and I hoped the description of meals would make people’s mouths water. They certainly made mine water. But now, of course, Bond still has to remain gourmet.”
I asked him what answer he had to give to his critics about the outrageousness of Bond’s situations and the varying forms of torture he is forced to endure.
With just the faintest trace of irony he says, “Few people seem to realise that so many incidents in the James Bond books are based on fact. I string these together, along with a beautiful girl, to make a good story. In Casino Royale the gambling incident was very true to life.
“I was in Estoril during the war and saw the German spies gambling at the Casino. I love gambling and decided I could beat them at their own game. I failed miserably, but I made Bond succeed. Later on, the bomb throwing incident of the red and blue cameras with a reconstruction of the Russian attempt to kill von Papen in Ankara. The Russian organisation SMERSH does actually exist.
“One of the things that intrigues people is the bridge game in Moonraker. They have only to look up one of Culbertson’s books of instructions and see that game described, word for word. In much the same way the method of cheating at Canasta in Goldfinger was taken from an actual court case in Miami. I spent several years during the war in Naval Intelligence and saw far stranger things than I write about, and one only has to read the newspapers to confirm that.
“A case in point is another episode in Goldfinger when the Korean is sucked through the window of a pressurised cabin of a plane. That had actually happened a short while before.
“And then the torture. You have only to read about the concentration camps and the treatment of prisoners in Algeria to realise mine is mild stuff compared with that. People like to hide their eyes from the truth.”
Of necessity Ian Fleming is two people. For nine months of the year he is the experienced, brilliant newspaper man. For three months he closes his mind to that, goes to Jamaica and dissolves into the character of James Bond. “I try to have some kind of plot already formed, but often the ideas and incidents weave themselves into a story once I have started.
“Sometimes I feel like changing the formula, but people want the same thing again. I have regular hours of work. If one is writing professionally it is the only way. It also adds pace which is the main ingredient of a good thriller. People read thrillers in trains and planes and you must make them want to read over the page. Too many of the modern thriller heroes are cardboard cut-outs. They spend their time recapping to pad out a few more pages.”
As a writer Ian Fleming is always seeking perfection. “Even the sex bits, which do tend to be a bit vulgar, I would hate to think were badly written. I started adding more sex to shock a little. It is good for the English. We are so Calvinistic and nonconformist.”
As a man his interests are wide. He finds nature always exciting and his love of underwater fishing has crept into more than one of his books. “And travel, I will never lose the thrill of a journey, of a new country. When I’m tired I can always settle in a small French town and examine it minutely the way Simenon does.”
He does admit that to write these thrillers he must have an insatiable interest in the odd, the queer and the exciting. “But above all I believe in getting on with it, in writing what I please, not what I ought to. So often I am asked when I am going to write something better. But I have no wish to be a Serious Writer. They take themselves and their work too seriously and are always searching for a message.”
His new book, For Your Eyes Only, has another eye-catching jacket. (Wisely, Fleming discusses all his jackets with the artist, Richard Chopping. Between them they have not produced a dud one yet.) It is a volume of five stories which he describes as experiences of James Bond that would not fit into any other book. The middle one will be an enigma to many of his admirers since its style and tempo are suspiciously Somerset Maugham, but the last two, even if they are rather more restrained, will undoubtedly please Bond fans. And the underwater sequence is a joy to read.
What is it that has made James Bond such a cult—even to the extent of three fan clubs in Australia and Hollywood who write earnest letters and spend their money on Berettas? Is it the pace, the technical brilliance of the writing, the detailed but never dull description, the sheer entertainment value, the sadistic streak, the forthright attitude towards sex, or a secret delight in snobbery?
Ian Fleming cannot supply the answer, but with any luck he will go on rousing our baser instincts for a long time to come.