Christmas with Bond

How does James Bond celebrate Christmas? Ian Fleming’s novels contain few clues. Just one adventure – On Her Majesty’s Secret Service – has events coinciding with the festive period. According to John Griswold’s chronological analysis of the novels, the events of The Man With the Golden Gun cover the period from November 1963 to February 1964, but there is a break in the narrative during December and most of January, and therefore no mention is made of Christmas.

The references in OHMSS suggest that Bond, when not engaged in a mission, has a fairly traditional Christmas Day. He berates his secretary, Mary Goodnight, for working, rather than spending the day stirring the plum pudding and going to church (Chapter 20). But while Bond is aware of these concepts as elements of the Christmas celebrations, Goodnight’s response – that the pudding is prepared months earlier and that it was the wrong time for church – highlights the possibility that Bond does not get too involved with the organisation of the festivities or does not habitually attend the Christmas services.

Bond has his Christmas meal at M’s house on the edge of Windsor Forest. M’s housekeeper, Mrs Hammond, serves turkey (presumably with seasonal vegetables), followed by plum pudding. M thinks the Christmas meal traditions to be ‘damned sentimental rubbish’ and almost has an apoplexy at the sight of crackers on the table. Bond’s view on the menu, and the crackers, is not recorded. In terms of drinks, Bond has a glass of Marsala and most of a bottle of bad Algerian wine, neither of which impressed him.

That is as far as the evidence from the novels takes us. However, as Ian Fleming gave so many of his own traits to Bond, it is reasonable to assume that the sort of celebrations Fleming had were also shared by Bond. The letters of Ann Fleming provide some information. Christmases were often spent at Shane’s Castle, Lord O’Neill’s home in Dublin. One year there, the Flemings and other guests played Scrabble, bridge and table-tennis. In another letter, we learn of the Stilton, tangerines and smoked salmon that the house guests ate. Ian Fleming’s drink of choice was vodka. Alternatively, Christmas was spent on the ski-slopes. Staying at St Moritz into the January, the Flemings saw in the new year at a table covered with crackers and paper hats.

So, for the perfect Bondian Christmas, take to the slopes, eat a traditional Christmas meal, washed down with vodka, and play Scrabble. Happy Christmas!

References:
Amory, M (ed.), 1985 The letters of Ann Fleming, Collins Harvill, London
Griswold, J, 2006. Ian Fleming’s James Bond: annotations and chronologies for Ian Fleming’s Bond stories, Author House, Milton Keynes

No sensayuma: humour in the James Bond books

As Tee-Hee points out, James Bond of Ian Fleming's novels has no sense of humour. But we do not have to take Mr Big's giggling henchman's word for it. The fact is confirmed by many commentators and people connected with the world of James Bond. For instance, Ben Macintyre (2008, 204) regarded the book Bond 'almost entirely devoid of humour...unlike his film counterpart'.
 

Roger Moore delivered some of the funniest lines in the film series

Indeed, the humour present in the films is considered to be a significant innovation in terms of the Bond character, and has been credited variously to Richard Maibaum, Johanna Harwood and Berkely Mather, the screenwriters of Dr No (1962) or Terence Young, the film's director. What's more, the screen Bond in turn influenced Fleming, who altered his Bond to something that more closely resembled Sean Connery's portrayal.

Admittedly, in Fleming's first novel, Casino Royale, the humour is somewhat lacking, but in subsequent novels, the jokes are very much in evidence. Bond's humour, like his martini, is typically very dry. Facing Tee-Hee, Bond follows his aphorism, 'Those who deserve to die, die the death they deserve', with, 'Write that down. It's an original thought' (Live and Let Die, chapter 8). In Moonraker (chapter 25), when his secretary, Loelia Ponsonby, asks him how much of an emergency before she calls him for duty, Bond says, 'Any invitation to a quiet game of bridge'. And Bond tells Nash, who has him powerless at the point of a pistol, 'I'd like to know what it's all about. I can spare you half an hour' (From Russia, With Love, chapter 26).

Sometimes, the dry humour becomes wry and ironic with restrained mockery. When another of Mr Big's henchman shoves the muzzle of a gun into Bond's stomach, Bond tells him, 'You oughtn't to miss at that range' (Live and Let Die, chapter 6). In The Man with the Golden Gun (chapter 6), Scaramanga tells Bond that some people who hadn't heard of him are dead. Bond replies, 'A lot of people who haven't heard of me are dead'.

Of course, Bond is British, and what could be more British than saucy postcard humour? Tiffany Case flirtatiously tells Bond (Diamonds are Forever, chapter 9), 'If you don't like my peaches, why do you shake my tree', to which Bond replies, 'I haven't started to shake it yet. You won't let me get my arms round the trunk'. Cue a Sidney James cackle. And the exchange between Tatiana Romanova and Bond in his hotel room (From Russia, With Love, chapter 10), was virtually transferred verbatim to the film version: Tatiana – 'You must put something on. It upsets me'. Bond – 'You upset me just as much'. And later: Tatiana – 'I think my mouth is too big'. Bond – 'It's just the right size. For me, anyway'.

While it is true that Bond's witty quip after he dispatches a villain does seem to have been introduced in the films – in the novels, there are no groaners like, 'He was on his way to a funeral', or 'I think he got the point' (after being harpooned) – no one can claim that Bond lacks humour. But many do, and that is one false meme that has become very successful, being transmitted even by those very familiar with the novels.

Bond may have acquired a Scottish background after Connery first appeared as Bond (although this is hardly surprising, given Fleming's own Scottish roots), but there is no evidence that Bond gained a (different) sense of humour after 1962. Bond is his wittiest in You Only Live Twice, but none of his one-liners are delivered after Bond exercises his licence to kill.

The man who wouldn't be Bond

There is a lot of confusion about which actors were considered for the role of James Bond in Dr No (1962), even among those closest to the casting process. In his autobiography, When the snow melts (1999, Boxtree), Cubby Broccoli writes that James Fox was put forward for the Bond role, but declined 'because of strong religious scruples'. Correspondence with James Fox suggests that this was not the case.

I wrote to James Fox in 2006 and asked him about his brush with James Bond. His reply indicated that he had had no involvement with the film's producers in 1961 (casting took place between June and August that year). In fact, James Fox first met Broccoli in 1981, not 1961. This followed a period of a break in acting and (by Fox's own admission) 'terrible films'. Broccoli 'gave me a large Jack Daniels', James Fox recalls.

Bond meets his match - every time.

The release of a James Bond film is traditionally accompanied by huge press interest, promotion of featured products, magazine and TV specials, and the leading actress’ claim that her character is different from the Bond girls that preceded her – this time, she’s Bond’s equal.

With Quantum of Solace (2008) in the cinemas, Olga Kurylenko said of her character, Camille, ‘She very strong and independent, but at the same time vulnerable’. Eva Green thought that, in Casino Royale (2006), Vesper Lynd was ‘an equal match’ to Bond. Die Another Day’s (2002) Jinx, played by Halle Berry, was ‘very intelligent, she was Bond’s equal’. Denise Richards thought Dr Christmas Jones in The World is not Enough (1999) ‘very smart’ who ‘plays well off of (sic) Bond’. For Michelle Yeoh, starring in Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), it was important that ‘Wai Lin was as intelligent as Bond’, and not ‘another of his side-kick floozies’. Izabella Scorupco’s Natalya Simonova in Goldeneye (1995) was ‘so intelligent’ and ‘without her Bond is not going to be able to accomplish his mission’.

Many claimed that the strong, intelligent woman appeared in the earlier films, too. Honor Blackman relished her role as Pussy Galore in Goldfinger (1964). The academic Camille Paglia viewed the character as ‘one of the most commanding, authoritative women in popular culture of the time’. It was especially the physical aspects of the role that, like Cathy Gale, Blackman’s character in The Avengers, meant that she ‘fought like a man, fought better than a man’. Diana Rigg, playing Tracy in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969), thought her character ‘much more dimensional than most of the other women who’ve ever been in the Bond pictures’. Lois Chiles regarded Holly Goodhead in Moonraker (1979) as being ‘capable of doing everything that Bond could do’. Octopussy, played by Maud Adams in 1983, was billed as Bond’s equal: ‘We’re two of a kind’, Octopussy tells Bond. In interviews, Adams stressed her character’s role as an adventurer, smuggler and businesswoman.

The implication of the emphasis that the principal actresses give to the intelligence, emotional and physical strength and resourcefulness of their characters is that the Bond girls before them were regarded as having none of those qualities. The previous-Bond-girls-were-bimbos meme has been very successful. It is widespread, being reproduced by the press and commentators wherever the films show. It is cyclical, being propagated with the release of each film and, because it carries the weight of the entire series, has greater survival value than the memes (the criticisms, reviews and quotations) accompanying each individual film, which generally last only the long as the film plays in the cinemas. And, without the need to refer to specific cases, the meme replicates faithfully.

But the meme also adapts well to the changing cultural or memetic environment. The notion of what constitutes equality between men and women now is different from that during the 1960s. The sexual revolution of the Sixties paved the way for improved opportunities for women in the Seventies. In the Eighties, concerns about HIV/AIDS influenced the way sexual relationships were depicted, and the Nineties onwards have brought, at least in most Western countries, full(er) equality in pay, opportunities, pensions, and law. The Bond girl character has reflected those changes, but yet the ‘the-previous-Bond-girls-were-bimbos’ meme survives.

Was James Bond religious?

Recent years have brought a number of books and articles on Bond’s religious beliefs and the morality of his adventures. These include Ian Fleming’s Seven Deadlier Sins and 007’s Moral Compass by Benjamin Pratt and the paper, ‘Christian culture, morality and James Bond’ by Frank Smith. The authors tend to be religious themselves and seek to give Bond a Christian mission. A fair reading of Fleming’s novels, however, reveals no obvious religious belief.

What little evidence religious writers present to advance their case is at best ambiguous and at worst subject to biased interpretation. One passage central to the argument for a religious Bond is his discussion with René Mathis in Casino Royale on the nature of good and evil. Bond says, ‘Now in order to tell the difference between good and evil, we have manufactured two images representing the extremes...and we call them God and the Devil’ (Chapter 20). Benjamin Pratt refers to the passage, but describes God and the Devil as personifications of real presences, rather than what Fleming may have been implying – human inventions.

Then there is Bond’s feelings of revulsion after a rich meal with Mr Du Pont in Goldfinger, which Bond attributes to the ‘puritan’ in him (Chapter 2). The use of the word puritan is interesting, and Pratt cites its as evidence of Bond’s Calvinist beliefs. It could, of course, be nothing more than a figure of speech, coming to mean, more generally, someone who is strict in morals and looks upon kinds of pleasure as sinful. Given that Bond ‘takes ridiculous pleasure’ in his food and drink (Casino Royale, Chapter 8), the use of the word hardly identifies Bond as a fire-and-brimstone bible-thumper.

Ian Fleming suggested that Bond was a latter-day St George, slaying the dragon and rescuing the maiden. But to extrapolate from this, as some have done, that Fleming intended his novels to be modern parables for the Christian reader, is wishful thinking.

Fleming’s church attendance is not recorded in the various bibliographies or his correspondence to his wife Ann, suggesting that religion did not play a significant in his life, if at all. He admitted in a letter to a Reverend Leslie Paxton that he was ‘some kind of sub-species of a Christian’ (if Fleming is professing religious belief, then this is a strangely mealy-mouthed expression of it), but this follows Paxton’s sermon against James Bond. Fleming was curious about what had been said, and the admission could be little more than a friendly gesture. Much is made of Fleming’s Calvinist grandfather, Robert, but this alone is not enough to give Fleming – and Bond – a religious identity. If Fleming occasionally alludes to religious words and concepts, then their use is a product of his cultural environment and the ideas – the memes – he inherited from his parents and social network. Naturally, Bond gained a similar background.

That's not to say that Bond is not moral (his musings in Casino Royale show otherwise), but morals are not evidence for religious belief. If Bond is a Christian, then he is a cultural Christian. He may look forward to the carols in the church at Christmas, or hobnob with the vicar at a summer fête, but he’d only be reaching for his bible when he wants to retrieve the gun hidden in it.

The men who would be Bond - Ian Fleming's choice?

Ian Fleming’s Bond was ‘hard, ruthless, sardonic, fatalistic’; in short, ‘a bit of a bastard’. The producers of the Bond films felt that Fleming’s Bond was too much the English Gentleman. Cubby Broccoli found much to admire in Fleming’s work – the ‘virile, resourceful hero, exotic locations’, and the sophisticated sex – but Bond, for him, still a lacked a certain hardness. This view was not altogether unreasonable. After all, Fleming’s Bond does not slap women, unlike Marlowe, but feels protective towards them; he thinks about marrying Vesper Lynd, Gala Brand and Tiffany Case, and succeeds with Tracy di Vicenzo. So, Broccoli sought to give Bond ‘a coarser shading’ and more masculinity that downplayed the kinder, paternalistic aspects of the character.

Stories linking names with Fleming’s preferred choice, Richard Burton and James Mason, for instance, are largely apocryphal. Fleming’s own preferences for the actor to play Bond would appear to confirm the producers’ view that Fleming’s Bond was not tough enough. Fleming supposedly favoured David Niven or Roger Moore for the role. Niven in particular was well-known for playing upper-class, suave, charmers, and his post-war output up until 1961 had consisted largely of romantic comedies or melodramas. As Phileas Fogg in Around the World in 80 Days (1956), Niven strayed into the world of the globe-trotting adventurer, but this was a rare excursion out of his usual sophisticated urban territory.

We must be careful, however, not to read too much into Fleming’s preference. Fleming was, after all, a friend of Niven’s, and his suggestion can be taken in the spirit of amiable duty. It did not necessarily reflect how he thought Bond should be played. It was in this sense of friendship that Fleming suggested Noel Coward for the role of Dr No, and gave starring roles alongside James Bond to many of his acquaintances in his novels. Indeed, David Niven appeared in the novel, You Only Live Twice, though as a cormorant belonging to Kissy Suzuki, one of the fisher folk of the Ama tribe. These were minor in-jokes that gave a knowing thrill to Fleming’s social circle. But these references demonstrate a generosity that would have put Niven at the forefront of Fleming’s mind for the role of James Bond.

Ian Fleming had other names in mind. According to his friend, Sir John Morgan, he admired Edward Underdown, a character actor usually seen in supporting roles. Underdown was born in 1908 and first appeared on the stage in 1932. Curiously, Fleming dismissed the possibility of Trevor Howard as Bond on the ground of age. This was despite Howard being Underdown’s senior by five years.

Underdown usually took roles in a range of melodramas, thrillers or wartime pieces. Fleming might have seen him as Inspector Johnson investing a murky London murder in Street of Shadows (1953), or as Harry Chelm in the African-set adventure, Beat the Devil (1953), also starring Humphrey Bogart. Perhaps fresher in Fleming’s mind was The Camp on Blood Island (1958), a tense drama following the fortunes of prisoners of war – including Underdown as Dawes – at the hands of a sadistic Japanese camp commander. Or there was Information Received (1961), a crime drama.

Despite his appearances in a range of exciting films, Underdown was regarded as a rather dull leading actor: worthy, but lacking the sex-appeal that Broccoli and Saltzman sought. Indeed, his subsequent casting in Thunderball (1965) as Air Vice Marshal only serves to demonstrate his fate to play secondary authority figures.

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