In the course of researching and writing his novel, Waiting for Sunrise, William Boyd acquired a library of some 200 books. These provided Boyd with the necessary facts about the places, people and events that formed the backdrop to the novel's narrative, or otherwise inspired him. Among the books were Frederic Manning's First World War novel, Her Privates We, and AJP Taylor's history, The First World War. Then there were the spy classics The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, by John le Carré, Ashenden, by Somerset Maugham, and William Boyd's favourite Bond novel, From Russia, With Love. Reading Waiting for Sunrise, it's hard to find aspects of From Russia, With Love, but there are certainly passages which wouldn't be out of place in a Bond novel.
The events of Waiting for Sunrise begin in Vienna in 1913, as stage actor Lysander Rief seeks the advice of a renowned psychiatrist. In the doctor's waiting room he meets a beguiling woman, Hettie Bull, and they soon begin an affair that ends with Rief arrested on a charge instigated by Hettie Bull's (other) lover. With help from two intelligence officers, Munro and Fyfe-Miller, Rief escapes to Britain. But he soon finds himself caught up with the start of the Great War, and an encounter with Munro and Fyfe-Miller leads him to assume a false identity in Switzerland as a spy seeking a key to intercepted coded messages. Back in London, Rief turns his attention to a traitor leaking information on ordnance and field positions, as indicated by the deciphered codes, and learns that the truth might be uncomfortably close to home.
William Boyd said that From Russia, With Love captured “some of the paranoia of the Cold War”. One could suggest, too, that Fleming's novel, with its Istanbul-set sequences, inspired some of the mood of the events in Austria and Switzerland, both novels conveying, for instance, the essence of a tourist city's murky underbelly. I also thought of Bond's gripping journey on the Orient Express when I read the description of Lysander Rief's escape from Switzerland to France on an express steamer around Lake Geneva. Boarding the steamer doesn't stop Rief feelings of suspicion and danger, just as similar threats accompany Bond's journey.
There was one other aspect in Waiting for Sunrise that I thought particularly Fleming-esque: detailed descriptions of meals. For instance, before he's about to leave for the front line in northern France to begin his mission, he lunches with Munro and has an excellent coq au vin, a carafe of Beaujolais, a selection of cheeses, a tarte tatin, and a Calvados. Later, in a café in Geneva, Rief dines on the menu de jour, comprising a clear soup, blanquette de veal, cheese and an apple tart. The wine, we learn, was rough and on the sour side. Back in England, at a hotel in Hythe on the Kent coast, Rief notes the evening menu – classic English fare of a saddle of lamb, devilled kidneys, and Dover sole. James Bond would no doubt approve.
As in the Bond books, the descriptions of food in Waiting for Sunrise add detail to the settings, juxtapose the everyday with the extraordinary, and, in Fleming's view, stimulate the readers' senses. William Boyd's own James Bond novel will be published in September 2013. Judging by a previous novel of his, Any Human Heart (in which Fleming makes an appearance), and now Waiting for Sunrise, Boyd is well prepared for the task of bringing life to James Bond's world.
According to Elizabeth Hale, author of 'James Bond and the Art of Eating Eggs', published in the journal Gastronomica (2012, vol. 84), Bond's egg consumption symbolises Bond's “identity as an individualist, as an ordinary but discerning consumer, and as an agent of life and death”. Given how prolifically eggs feature in the Bond novels, it is little wonder that the subject of Bond's egg consumption has attracted academic comment. Elizabeth Hale's paper makes a useful contribution to our understanding of the food of James Bond, still largely ignored in the films and only recently subject to analysis (also click here for details of a recent seminar on Bond's food).
As Elizabeth Hale reminds us, eggs appear in every James Bond novel. And Bond eats them every which way – scrambled, boiled, fried, baked, poached, as well as made into omelettes and sauces. Judging from how frequently they're mentioned, scrambled eggs appear to be Bond's favourite. He eats them for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and indeed in the first draft of Live and Let Die, Bond eats scrambled eggs so often that a proof-reader suggested that Bond's habits would be a security risk. Fleming changed the menus accordingly, but even then Bond's consumption might seem excessive; for instance, he eats scrambled eggs for dinner on the train from Pennsylvania, then chooses them again for breakfast the next morning. So closely is scrambled eggs associated with Bond, that Bond's recipe for the dish appears in the 1963 short story, '007 in New York' (although an earlier form of the recipe appeared under Fleming's name without mention of Bond in a 1961 cookbook, Celebrity Cooking for You). However, Bond must eat other forms of eggs almost as much. At home, Bond has a boiled egg for breakfast, and during his later adventures, he appears to develop a particular taste for poached eggs.
The origin of Bond's egg habits can naturally be found in Ian Fleming, who was just as avid a consumer. This much is clear from the correspondence of both Ian Fleming and his wife, Ann. Writing to Ann from New York in 1946, Ian refers to the fried eggs he's been enjoying, while in a letter written in 1948, Ann, describing Ian's and her time at their Jamaican residence, Goldeneye, mentions that they had scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee for breakfast. Eggs must have been cooked often, as she recalls that Ian would start a typical day by telling their maid, Violet, how he wanted his eggs. In further reminiscences, Ann reveals that on picnics in Jamaica, the couple and guests would take boiled eggs, and in a note written during their travels in France in 1953, Ann wrote that Ian would always order his omelette “trés baveuse”, or very runny. Ian Fleming said that “scrambled eggs never let you down”, but in a letter that he wrote in 1955 while at Goldeneye to Ann, he admitted that he ate a breakfast of bad scrambled eggs. It reveals something of Ian's love of eggs that just in a small selection of Ann and Ian's correspondence, four types of cooked eggs are mentioned.
This background to Bond's egg consumption is recognised in Elizabeth Hale's paper, which focuses on two Bond novels to illustrate the nature of Bond's individualism and identity, and the symbolism of eggs. In On Her Majesty's Secret Service, Hale suggests, eggs are a source of Bond's power – he fortifies himself for the tasks ahead by eating scrambled eggs – and highlight Bond's plain, but discerning, habits, in this case against the gluttony and luxury of Piz Gloria. In addition, Blofeld's plan to destroy food production (including eggs) in England is an attack on Bond's identity as an Englishman. In Thunderball, eggs are symbolic of Bond's role as a man and killer. Hale points to the moment when Bond receives his orders to combat SPECTRE and recover the stolen atomic bombs. Bond returns home, discards the diet of muesli and other health foods he's been living off since his spell at Shrublands, and orders his housekeeper May to prepare bacon, eggs, coffee and toast. Bond requires eggs and other 'dead foods' to retain his masculinity and maintain his resolve to defeat evil.
Elizabeth Hale's analysis is interesting and offers much, I hesitate to say, food for thought. Perhaps the ultimate 'hidden meaning' is that Bond's egg consumption reflects Ian Fleming's own complex relationship with eggs. Bond's diet mirrors that of his creator, but it also freed Fleming, at least in his imagination, from the restrictions (including a ban on eggs) imposed on his diet during his later years when his health was failing.
References
Amory, M, 1985 The letters of Ann Fleming
Biddulph, E, 2009 “Bond was not a gourmet”: an archaeology of James Bond's diet, Food, Culture and Society 12.2, 131-40
Biddulph, E, 2010 Licence to Cook: recipes inspired by Ian Fleming's James Bond
Chancellor, H, 2005 James Bond: the man and his world
Hale, E, 2012, James Bond and the Art of Eating Eggs, Gastronomica 84, 84-90
Gilbert, J, 2012 Ian Fleming: the bibliography
Following from the film’s eight BAFTA nominations, Skyfall has been nominated for five Academy Awards. Roger Deakins has received a nomination for cinematography, Thomas Newman has a nomination for best score, Adele's title song has been nominated, and Skyfall has also been recognised for sound mixing (Scott Millan, Greg Russell and Stuart Wilson) and sound editing (Per Hallberg and Karen Baker).
The James Bond films have rarely been nominated. Even Casino Royale, which won one BAFTA (for sound) and received a further eight nominations, was ignored by the Oscars. Before Skyfall, the last Bond film to be Oscar nominated was For Your Eyes Only (1981), which was considered for Best Song. The film completed a short run of three consecutive Bond films to receive nominations. Moonraker (1979) was nominated for visual effects, while The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) was considered for best song, best original score and best art direction. Before then, Diamonds Are Forever (1971) was nominated for best sound. Two films have won Oscars. John Stears won the Oscar for special visual effects for his work on Thunderball (1965), while Norman Wanstall won a best sound effects Oscar for Goldfinger (1964).
While it seems unlikely that, until Daniel Craig’s tenure as Bond, the producers and directors seriously regarded the Bond films as contenders in the principal award categories, they may have felt some disappointment that the series hadn’t received more nominations for technical and music categories. However, analysis of previous winners in those categories suggests that action adventure films (a category into which the Bond films can be comfortably placed) have rarely won, or even been nominated, and that the chances of Skyfall taking home the prize in its five categories at the 2013 award ceremony are unfortunately somewhat on the low side.
We can see this when we examine the types of films that won the Oscars for categories in which the Bond films have competed or are competing – best visual effects, sound editing, score, song, art direction (now production design), and sound mixing. Considering just the awards for the years in which Bond films were released (giving us a sample drawn from 22 years of award ceremonies), nine of the winners in the category of production design were historical epics or period dramas; both musicals and science fiction/fantasy films, which are also typically lavish productions, each won the Oscar three times. Action adventure films have won just twice. Not surprisingly, ten winners of the Oscar for visual effects in the sample were science fiction/fantasy films, and clearly the spaced-themed plot of Moonraker helped with its nomination in this category. For best score and song, the winners are dominated by contemporary dramas (romances, as well as those dealing with more serious issues), which won 10 and 11 awards respectively. Family films that include a substantial musical element, almost exclusively Disney films, have also had success in the song category with five winners. Among the sample, cinematography has seen eight winners from period films, and seven from contemporary dramas. Just one film was an action adventure. Both sound editing and sound mixing offer a mixed picture. In editing, there are five action adventure films in the sample, joining five science fiction/fantasy films, two period epics, two dramas, and two comedies, among others. Sound mixing had two action adventure winners, but six dramas, six musicals and five period epics.
The association between film type and award category can be seen clearly in the correspondence analysis plot below. This multivariate technique groups categories that are statistically associated; in this case, the closer a film type is to the award category on the plot, the stronger they are associated with each other. In the top left quadrant, then, we see that the award categories of score and song are congregated around comedies, family films and drama, indicating a strong association. In the bottom left quadrant, period dramas, and to a lesser extent musicals, are strongly associated with cinematography (photo), sound mixing and production design. Action adventure films are closest to sound editing in the bottom right quadrant along with science fiction and fantasy films, which are as expected strongly associated with visual effects.
Based on these data, the best chance for Skyfall is in sound editing. In cinematography, the main competition will be the period dramas of Lincoln and Anna Karenina, while in sound mixing, Les Misérables and Lincoln will be the films to watch. The winner of best score seems likely to come from Argo or Life of Pi, while Life of Pi or Ted may have the best chance for best song. However, given its five nominations, its billion-dollar receipts, and critical acclaim, Skyfall is no ordinary Bond film, and it may yet win in all its categories. I certainly hope it does, and I await the award ceremony in February with great interest.
According to a report in the Evening Standard, the term 'hunting rifle', used by Kincade in Skyfall to describe a firearm owned by James Bond's father, Andrew, has ruffled the feathers of British gamekeepers. Apparently, no such term is used by country folk, who regard the term as an Americanism.
While solecisms such as this are an inevitable product of writers being unfamiliar with the subject matter, the implication of Kincade's remark, that Andrew Bond engaged in shooting and other country pursuits while in Scotland during James Bond's early childhood, is intriguingly paralleled by Ian Fleming's own experiences.
Its exact location is not made clear in the film, but Skyfall Lodge is presumed to be in Glencoe. The lodge sequence was filmed there, and we know from M's obituary of Bond in the novel You Only Live Twice that Andrew Bond came from the region. This was also the region where Ian Fleming spent part of his childhood. Glenborrodale Castle in Ardnamurchan, some 50km further west of Glencoe, was taken by Fleming's father, Valentine, for family holidays.
Given the Flemings' Scottish roots – Ian's grandfather, Robert, came from Dundee – the holiday destination is unsurprising, but the young Ian did not enjoy his time there. In a letter to the then Ann Rothermere, Ian Fleming wrote in 1946 that he spent some of the unhappiest years of his youth at Glenborrodale. Curiously there is an echo of this in Skyfall. As the lodge burns down, Bond says, 'I always hated this place.'
While at Glenborrodale, Ian's father, Valentine, took part in the sort of country sports enjoyed by Andrew Bond, and perhaps James, such as shooting grouse and deer stalking, judging by the stag in the Fleming crest (referenced by the stone stag on top of the gateway of Skyfall Lodge). Ian joined in the activities, but he didn't enjoy them, claiming that he would rather catch no salmon than shoot no grouse. On another occasion, at Black Mount, also near Glencoe, Ian Fleming, aged 16, shot his first stag; usually, though, he preferred to listen to records than going 'out of doors killing something.'
The experiences of the young Ian Fleming are paralleled to some extent by the James Bond of Skyfall. Some of the similarities may well be coincidental, but they nevertheless add depth to the background of the cinematic Bond. As with other aspects of James Bond's life – his tastes, his views, his hobbies – the clue to Bond's past can be found in the life of Ian Fleming.
References
Amory, M (ed.), 1985 The Letters of Ann Fleming, Collins Harvill
Lycett, A, 1995 Ian Fleming: the man behind James Bond, Turner
At this time of year, my thoughts naturally turn to the story of a remarkable man who redeemed a troubled soul, conquered evil, and saved the world. I refer, of course, to James Bond and his Yuletide adventure in the Swiss Alps. As we approach Christmas, what better way to end our celebration of 50 years of the James Bond films than to watch On Her Majesty's Secret Service.
As for that perfect Christmas accompaniment, the answer's in the film. “Eggnog on Christmas Eve. Just like home”, says 'English girl' (played by Joanna Lumley) as the 'Angels of Death' enter the festive spirit with a few drinks before opening their deadly gifts from the Count, otherwise known as Blofeld. So, to complete our Bondian Christmas, and to provide a suitable period flavour, I've adapted an eggnog recipe from 500 Recipes for Cocktails and Mixed Drinks (Hamlyn, 1964) by Felix Brenner, which is broadly contemporary with the 1969 film.
The recipe is for two servings:
1 egg
1 tablespoon icing sugar
90 ml milk
45 ml whisky
45 ml dark rum
90 ml double cream
½ tablespoon brandy
nutmeg
Separate the egg. Put the sugar and yolk into a bowl and whisk together. Stir half the milk into the mixture, add the whisky, mix, then stir in the rum. In another bowl, whisk the egg white until stiff peaks are formed. Add the rest of the milk, cream and brandy to the eggnog mixture, then carefully fold in the white until the mixture is frothy. Spoon the eggnog into glasses and grate a little nutmeg over the top. Serve and enjoy.
For more ideas of drinks to have while watching a Bond film, I recommend David Leigh's Complete Guide to the Drinks of James Bond. Have a wonderfully Bondian Christmas, and here's to an exciting 2013, the 60th anniversary of the literary James Bond.
There have been many claims to the true inspiration for James Bond. Largely seeing action in the Second World War, these have included 30 Assault Unit's Robert Harling, commando Patrick Dalzel-Job, and Colonel D T 'Bill' Hudson, a Secret Operations Executive (SOE) agent, who inspired Ian Fleming, according to Hudson's 1995 obituary in the Times, because he was 'tall and handsome, enjoyed an active social life and charmed the women of many nations', a description which could equally have applied to Fleming!
The latest hat, or rather hats, to be thrown into the ring, are those of some of the commandos who served in SOE. In his book, Ian Fleming and SOE's Operation Postmaster (2012, Pen and Sword) Brian Lett puts forward a number of individuals who took part in a daring mission to hijack two Axis ships harboured in Fernando Po, a Spanish island off the coast of West Africa. But for Brian Lett, SOE inspired more than Fleming's literary hero; it formed the basis for the secret service for which Bond worked, provided that service with its chief, and gave Bond his gadgets, among other claims. In short, the Bond books were Fleming's heavily disguised tribute to SOE. This post isn't the place to discuss all the claims in detail, but it is worth reviewing some of Lett's more plausible, as well as his less convincing, assertions.
Lett makes the reasonable suggestion that Fleming looked to SOE when locating the headquarters of the secret service. Fleming described Bond's office as 'a gloomy building overlooking Regent's Park'. The Secret Intelligence Service has never been based in that part of London, and so Fleming's location seems puzzling. However, when we consider that the headquarters of SOE was at 64 Baker Street, a stone's throw from Regent's Park, then Fleming's description could be regarded as a deliberate mistake. After all, until 1994, SIS/MI6 didn't officially exist (whereas SOE had been disbanded in 1946), and Fleming had to be careful about what information he divulged.
A similar argument could be made for Fleming naming Bond's chief as M, rather than C, the head of SIS. Presumably Fleming wasn't permitted to acknowledge the head of SIS as C, and so may have taken M, the code name of SOE's head of operations and training, as a plausible alternative. Ignoring other possibilities – M may have been a nod to Somerset Maugham's fictional spy chief R, a reference to Fleming's mother, or simply a representation of the character's name, Sir Miles Messervy, following MI5 chief Maxwell Knight's habit of signing documents 'M' and Fleming's similar use of the letter 'F' – Lett further suggests that the character of M was based on the first M of SOE, Major General Sir Colin Gubbins. While Fleming was certainly acquainted with Colin Gubbins and was aware of his role in SOE, Fleming's own chief, Admiral John Godfrey, still seems a more likely model for M.
Station codes were another aspect of SOE that Fleming may have adopted. In the Bond novels, codes such as A for Austria or Australia, C for Canada or the Caribbean and S for the Soviet Union appear to have been Fleming's invention, as conventionally SIS applied a two-digit number to identify countries (Germany was 12, for example). However, as Brian Lett points out, Fleming's codes more closely resemble SOE country codes; F Section identified non-Gaullist France, X Section was Germany, T Section was Belgium and Luxembourg, and N Section was the Netherlands.
West Africa, the location of Operation Postmaster, was identified as section W, and the code was also used for the codes of individual agents. Commandos were given code names beginning W0 (thus, Captain Gus March-Phillipps, the operation leader, as W01, and his second-in-command, Lieutenant Geoffrey Appleyard was W02). For other, non-commando agents, the zero was dropped; for example, Major Dismore, based in SOE's Lagos office, was W39. Lett suggests that the W0 code, identified agents as 'licensed to kill', and inspired Fleming to create his own zero-based agent codes. It doesn't take much imagination, Lett argues, to turn W07 into 007. I am less convinced by this suggestion. Lett makes much of Postmaster's agents having a 'licence to kill', but in reality, didn't all commandos and other military personnel by definition have such licence? They were fighting a war, after all. In any case, there is no strong ground for doubting Ian Fleming's own explanation that the double-0 prefix was used on the Admiralty's top-secret signals during the Second World War, and he simply lifted this for his books.
As for the identity of the real James Bond, Brian Lett has no doubt that the individual is to be found among the commandos of Operation Postmaster, in particular agents Gus March-Phillips, Geoffrey Appleyard, Graham Hayes and Anders Lassen. Again, as Fleming was certainly aware of the operation and possibly of the men that took part in it, the idea cannot be dismissed entirely. But Fleming ran his own band of commandos, 30 Assault Unit, which doubtless too was filled with very brave and heroic men. It is unlikely that we'd be able to identify a single individual, or even a small group of individuals, as the 'real James Bond'. That is not to deny that Bond had commando origins; as Fleming acknowledged, Bond was 'a compound of secret agent and commando types' he had met during the war. And, of course, Fleming himself is part of that magical compound.
Brian Lett's book is a well-written and exciting page-turner about a daring coastal operation that succeeded against the odds. The story of the brave and resourceful individuals who took part in it deserves to be told. Fleming had his own small role in that operation, and the book is a must-read for Fleming aficionados for that reason. Fleming's SOE connection gives rise to potential links between Bond and SOE, but while some of these are intriguing and even plausible, others are very speculative and in need of further evidence. The search for Bond's origins (if indeed we need to search for them) continues.
Now I know how James Bond felt in the film of For Your Eyes Only when he was kicked off the rock below St Cyril's after almost reaching the summit. All these years I have been diligently collecting Fleming and Bond related books and other printed material, thinking that my collection was pretty comprehensive. But after reading Jon Gilbert's excellent book, Ian Fleming: the Bibliography (2012, Queen Anne Press), I realise I still have a mountain to climb before the collection is anywhere near complete.
As Gilbert reveals, for any Bond aficionado wishing to explore the stories and influences behind the author and character, there is much more to read than the novels and books about the James Bond phenomenon. The Bibliography is an essential place to start, not only for an exhaustive catalogue of Fleming's writing in all its forms, but also as a source of information for the background and inspirations for Bond's adventures.
The majority of the Bibliography is taken up with a detailed examination of all editions of every one of Fleming's Bond novels and other major works. Each section begins with an account of the background to the novel in question, the research carried out by Fleming, and the key influences. We also learn about textual differences between the original manuscript, the subsequent typescript, the uncorrected proof, and the first and later editions. Then there are the curious typos and factual errors, the alternative titles, the variant bindings (I was disappointed to learn that some of my precious first editions were not quite as first as I thought), the paperback editions and reprints, reviews and advertising.
The remaining parts of the book deal largely with Fleming's other writing, principally his journalism and contributions to books by other authors. Such material is well worth exploring, since it reveals much about his wide-ranging interests which found their way to lesser or greater extents into the Bond novels. Fleming wrote a number of introductions and forewords to books about the Bondian subjects of international crime, gambling, and spying, and there was more Bondian material in his journalism. His articles for magazines and newspapers encompassed matters as diverse as underwater treasure hunting, crime (again), golf, guns, casinos, travel, cars, Russia and the Cold War and scrambled eggs.
Of particular interest to me was a reference to an article by Fleming under the title, 'Bang-Bang, Kiss-Kiss'. The piece, published in 1950, described the New York literary scene, and included profiles on, among others, Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane. It serves as a reminder of how important American crime writers were to Fleming, especially Chandler, who Fleming later befriended and about whom would write further tributes. It is clear when comparing Philip Marlowe with Bond that Fleming adopted aspects of Chandler's style and pace in his writing. The article also gives us perhaps the earliest use by Fleming of the phrase, Bang-Bang, Kiss-Kiss, which, in a variant form, would later become synonymous with the cinematic James Bond.
A section in the Bibliography on Ian Fleming's source books as important as the section on his journalism. We know, of course, about the book, Birds of the West Indies, which provided Fleming's hero with a name, and the books referenced in the Bond novels, such as How to Play Your Best Golf All the Time, and Nature Cure Explained, which Fleming had himself read and admired. But there are other books that Fleming had read or were almost certainly known to him, which contained ideas that appear to have filtered down into the Bond novels. These include Phyllis Bottome's Wind in his Fists, which is set in Austria and features villainous aristocrat and possible proto-Blofeld, Count Graf Schlick, and Sax Rohmer's The Island of Fu Manchu, a Second World War spy adventure featuring the archetypal criminal mastermind and undoubted inspiration of Dr No.
The Bibliography represents the culmination of Jon Gilbert's Fleming scholarship and expertise as a book dealer specialising in Fleming and Bond. The care and meticulousness that has gone into the volume is outstanding. The volume, some 700 pages long, is an incredible achievement and (as much as I dislike high prices for books, preventing wider access and dissemination) justifies its price tag. With a nod to Ian Fleming's intention when he began to write Casino Royale, it is the Fleming reference work to end all Fleming reference works.
