The James Bond Bedside Companion

by Benson, Raymond

  Another interesting revelation about Bond's character, which hasn't been discussed before, is his feeling toward his Scottish heritage. When the prime minister offers to grant Bond a knighthood, Bond refuses on the grounds that he "is a Scottish peasant, and will always be a Scottish peasant." The image of being Sir James Bond is not attractive to the agent at all. Fleming seems to be going to great pains to emphasize that Bond is only a civil servant doing his duty, and that the glory and glamor of the job is a secondary benefit (or nuisance).

  "Pistols" Scaramanga is hardly adequate for a Bond villain. He's a second-rate, small-time crook who happens to have gotten lucky with his shooting. After making a reputation for himself in the Caribbean as a crack-shot assassin, Scaramanga has become a cocky, egotistical hood who thinks he's better than he really is. Scaramanga, in fact, is very low in intelligence. All the other Bond villains are extremely intelligent, if somewhat mad, individuals. A Bond villain with no brains is no villain at all; hence, Scaramanga is more a henchman, comparable to Oddjob or Wint or Kidd, than an interesting adversary.

  A major fault in the novel is that Scaramanga's prowess with a gun is never demonstrated. We are told that Scaramanga is a deadly shot. But the only instances in which he uses the gun are to shoot two birds, a defenseless hood during a meeting, and a few animals. From Scaramanga's dossier, one comes to expect some kind of classic gunfight between Bond and the villain, but it never happens. The duel in the swamp is flawed because Scaramanga is lying on his back, wounded. His hidden derringer ploy is too predictable to satisfy the promises the novel makes early on.

  Felix Leiter seems to be the same old amiable character. Although there is no traditional drinking scene between Bond and Felix (a disappointing first), the sequences in which the Texan appears are good. As usual, Leiter pops up in the nick of time at the novel's end, clearing the way for Bond to clean up the business at hand. And again, as usual, Leiter is hurt and can't participate in the final battle. Leiter escapes this adventure by breaking his one good leg, and reveals somewhat mixed feelings as he leaves the hospital on crutches. He tells Mary Goodnight:

  "Okay, Miss Goodnight. Tell matron to take him off the danger list. And tell him to keep away from me for a week or two. Every time I see him a piece of me gets broken off. I don't fancy myself as The Vanishing Man." Again he raised his only hand in Bond's direction and limped out.

  (THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, Chapter 15)

  But generally, Leiter's appearances provide the usual breath of fresh air.

  Mary Goodnight hardly qualifies as a Bond heroine since her appearances in the story are so brief and inconsequential. She has nothing to do with the plot, and seems to have been included as an afterthought. It is nice to know that she still exists, after the building up of her character in the previous two novels. (It's a little odd that she began her role in the series with dark hair and ends it with blonde.) But her eagerness to help and her bubbly manner (her only defined characteristics) do add a little brightness to an otherwise stale story.

  Some new information about M is revealed in THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN. It is learned that M is Sir Miles Messervy, for one thing. One curious aspect is the compassion M shows Bond after the foiled assassination attempt. This seems entirely out of character for M and is almost unbelievable. It is more likely that if an agent had just attempted to murder him, the old chief would immediately terminate the agent's employment, as well as press charges. After all, M was ready to fire Bond at the beginning of YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE because the agent had adopted a few bad habits since the death of Tracy. Now, with Bond an ever greater security risk, M is content with de-brainwashing Bond with the help of Sir James Molony, and immediately placing the agent back into the system with a tough assignment. M's reacceptance of Bond is sudden, and like the rest of the assassination sequence, too hurried.

  HIGHLIGHTS AND OTHER INGREDIENTS

  The meager highlights of THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN include the assassination sequence simply for its originality and offbeat premise; and the resolution to the previous novel's cliffhanger, which is necessary and interesting.

  The train shootout is practically the only other exciting passage. The biggest thrill comes when a "naked, pink body" is seen tied to the railroad tracks in the distance, and Scaramanga announces to the passengers that the woman up ahead is Mary Goodnight. This is pure Fleming, and is the only real shot in the arm in the entire novel. The subsequent gun battle is over very quickly, and the death of Scaramanga is somehow unsatisfying. It's too bad that Fleming's last novel, as published, did not reach the standard the author had set for himself and the series. One can only wonder how differently the book might have turned out if Fleming had lived long enough to finish it properly.

  OCTOPUSSY (1966)

  OCTOPUSSY is a collection of short stories by Ian Fleming published posthumously in 1966. The original hardcover consisted of two stories, "Octopussy," and "The Living Daylights." The subsequent paperback edition included a third story, "The Property of a Lady," originally written for Sotheby's. All three stories are typical of the Fleming mold, but none of them are as successful as those in FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.

  "OCTOPUSSY"

  The story concerns James Bond's investigation of Major Dexter Smythe, a fifty-four-year-old retired Serviceman. Bond visits Smythe in Jamaica to question him about his work during World War II. Bond is aware that Smythe has committed a crime, and he gives the man ten minutes to think about confessing. The narrative flashes back to Germany in 1945. Smythe has discovered details of a Nazi treasure hidden on a mountain. Smythe arrests an innocent guide, Hannes Oberhauser, and forces him to lead him up the mountain. Once at the designated spot, Smythe shoots the guide. After a great deal of work, Smythe finds the gold and transports it back to his camp. Years later, Smythe has been able to sell bits of his gold and has become a wealthy man. But his paradise disappears when James Bond comes inquiring. Smythe finally confesses. After Bond leaves, Smythe swims out to visit his pet octopus, whom he has affectionately named "Octopussy." He finds a scorpionfish and wonders if the octopus will eat it. But the fish stings Smythe in the belly. Rather than submit to a courtmartial, he elects to remain in the water until the scorpionfish's poison takes effect.

  "Octopussy" is a marginally interesting story concerning the actions of Major Dexter Smythe, whom James Bond entices to commit suicide rather than face life imprisonment for murder and robbery. It contains no real excitement or thrills, and Bond is merely a supporting character in what is basically a morality tale. Bond acts only as a catalyst to force Smythe into remembering the details of his crime, which in a flashback, are the only highlights of the story.

  The style here seems more fleshed out than in THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN; therefore, one may presume that the story was written before the last novel in the series. There is some semblance of the Fleming Sweep—the story manages to move quickly despite the absence of action sequences. The usual rich detail, missing from GOLDEN GUN, is present in "Octopussy," and saves the story from failing totally. The tale's structure relies on the flashback technique of which Fleming was so fond: the story begins with Major Smythe remembering his meeting with Bond earlier that morning (presented in a flashback); a further flashback details the events of Major Smythe's crime.

  "Octopussy" is similar to "Quantum of Solace" in that it is a morality tale of sorts. In "Octopussy," Fleming seems to be saying that greed will ultimately bring one misfortune —a minor variation on an age-old theme.

  James Bond does not play a major role in "Octopussy," and seems a little out of place. What is Bond doing investigating the twenty-year-old death of a mountain guide? Bond says Oberhauser was his friend, which is why he is interested in the case; but this kind of work seems out of line for a top member of the Double-0 Section. Nothing new is learned about Bond's character. He is very businesslike and official. In fact, the character is viewed objectively from Smythe's point of view as another Service official doing his job.

 
; It is curious that Bond would hint for Smythe to commit suicide. Bond, as learned in YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, feels that suicide is cowardly. Therefore, what Bond suggests is a contradiction to his beliefs. Perhaps he feels that suicide would be the best thing for a man like Smythe; a lengthy and damaging trial might kill him anyway.

  Dexter Smythe is the protagonist of the story, and "Octopussy" is his tale. Smythe is a weak man with big ideas. His mistake is that he truly believed he could get away with the crime he committed. Smythe is not an evil man at all. Stealing gold belonging to Hitler's army might not have seemed a crime to him; the ugly crime, of course, is his murder of the mountain guide Oberhauser.

  Octopussy, the affectionately named pet that Smythe feeds daily, could be a symbol of the treasure which is just beyond reach. Smythe teases the animal with a scorpionfish at the story's end, and the octopus grabs Smythe instead of the fish. The treasure has backfired and attacked the hunter, perhaps because this particular treasure should have been left untouched. (Major Smythe's plot to find and steal the Reich's gold also backfired—the "Devil" came to collect Smythe's dues years later.)

  The flashback sequence on the mountain is the only real highlight of the story, and the murder of Oberhauser comes as a surprise. But otherwise, "Octopussy" is a limp fish.

  "THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS"

  In this story, Bond is assigned to cover the escape of a British agent from East Berlin by assassinating a Russian executioner named Trigger before the killer can shoot the British agent. Bond stations himself in a building overlooking the no-man's land between East and West, armed with a .308 caliber Winchester rifle. Trigger will presumably attempt to fire at the British agent from the opposite building. While watching the street, Bond is struck by the beauty of a blonde girl carrying a cello case. Finally, on the third evening, the British agent appears on the street. Bond takes aim at the window from which Trigger's gun is now pointing. As the agent runs, Trigger leans out of the window to shoot. The executioner is none other than the blonde cellist. After a second's hesitation, Bond fires, wounding Trigger rather than killing her. The British agent makes it across to safety.

  "The Living Daylights" is by far the best story in the collection, and is similar to the short stories of FOR YOUR EYES ONLY in that it has a good plot, plenty of action, good characterizations, and Fleming's choice stylistic elements.

  The plot is straightforward. The Fleming Sweep takes the reader through the tale at a quick pace; it is compressed and intensely written. The usual rich detail abounds: descriptions of the shooting range at the story's opening, sights of Berlin, and the assassination attempt are vivid. The story is further enhanced by a surprise ending.

  Thematically, the story deals with the dirty side of Bond's profession. Bond has never liked killing as an assignment; but do his duty he must. Bond questions the morality of the job at one point Captain Sender, the Serviceman in West Berlin, gives Bond a bit of trouble:

  Bond narrowly averted a row with Captain Sender because, that evening, Bond took a stiff drink of the whiskey before he donned the hideous cowl that now stank of his sweat. Captain Sender had tried to prevent him, and when he failed, had threatened to call up Head of Station and report Bond for breaking training.

  "Look, my friend," said Bond wearily, "I've got to commit a murder tonight. Not you. Me. So be a good chap and stuff it will you? You can tell Tanqueray anything you like when it's over. Think I like this job? Having a Double-0 number and so on? I'd be quite happy for you to get me sacked from the Double-0 Section. Then I could settle down and make a snug nest of papers as an ordinary staffer. Right?" Bond drank down his whiskey, reached for his thriller—now arriving at an appalling climax—and threw himself on the bed.

  ("The Living Daylights," OCTOPUSSY)

  Bond's attitude is what makes the story interesting and involving. Of course, Bond really doesn't believe what he is saying. He would go crazy in a soft desk job. But this passage reveals that even Bond can succumb to feelings of distaste for his particular line of work

  The agent is at his toughest in this story. He is hard, determined, and intent on accomplishing the job, whether he likes it or not. Nevertheless, his weakness for women almost causes him to fail. Throughout the three days of waiting for the moment of execution, Bond watches, from a distance, a pretty blonde who plays with a women's orchestra on the other side of the border. When this blonde is revealed to be Trigger, the Russian hit woman, Bond hesitates before shooting his rifle. When Sender chastises Bond for only wounding Trigger, Bond shrugs it off, saying, "Okay. With any luck it will cost me my Double-0 number." At this point, Bond doesn't care. Complacency is a new trait for James Bond!

  The story also reveals M's attitude toward this kind of work. Whenever M sends Bond on a nasty assignment such as the execution of someone, he hardens and is brusque with Bond:

  The clear blue eyes remained cold as ice. But Bond knew that they remained so only with an effort of will. M didn't like sending any man to a killing. But, when it had to be done, he always put on this fierce, cold act of command. Bond knew why. It was to take some of the pressure, some of the guilt, off the killer's shoulders.

  ("The Living Daylights," OCTOPUSSY)

  Highlights of the story include the Bond/M scene and the actual shooting sequence. The story builds to a tense climax as the third night of watching for Agent Number 272 approaches. The surprise ending, when Trigger is revealed as the blonde cellist, is a nice twist. All in all, "The Living Daylights" equals most of Fleming's better works.

  "THE PROPERTY OF A LADY"

  In this story, a double agent working for the KGB, Maria Freudenstein, has been planted in the heart of the British Secret Service. The Service is aware of her double agent status, and has been giving her false information to pass on to the Russians for the past three years. Now, however, it seems that the famous Russian jeweler Fabergé once made a valuable emerald sphere for Freudenstein's grandfather, and the jewel has just been sent to her from Russia. M informs Bond that Freudenstein is soon holding an auction at Sotheby's. He suspects that the Russians are paying Freudenstein for a job well done by sending the artifact and allowing her to auction it at a high price. Bond suggests that the Russians may have a plant at the auction to bid up the price so that Freudenstein can sell the piece for the maximum amount. It's also very possible that this plant could be the resident director of KGB operations in London—the identity of whom the Service has been after for quite some time. Bond proposes to attend the auction and attempt to identify this person so that an arrest can be made. As the bidding begins, Bond watches the auctioneer carefully, attempting to determine the identity of the unseen bidder. Someone keeps pushing up the bid, until it finally exceeds 150,000 pounds. When Bond's contact at Sotheby's bids a maximum 155,000 pounds, Bond notices a man in the back of the room removing his dark glasses—which must be a signal to the auctioneer that the bidder is finished. Bond follows the man from the room and tails his car, not surprisingly, to the Soviet Embassy. His hunch, then, was correct.

  The addition of "The Property of a Lady" to OCTOPUSSY seems to have been an afterthought. It is hardly worth the effort, for this story is perhaps the weakest one Fleming ever wrote. Written in 1963, the suspenseless plot is resolved with little effort on Bond's part.

  The premise of the story is rather farfetched. For three years, a double agent named Maria Freudenstein has been fed false information by the British to pass on to the Russians; only a handful of people in the Service know this fact. It seems that if Freudenstein had been working on the inside of the service for three years, she would have picked up reliable information on her own—unless, of course, she's extraordinarily stupid.

  The story does manage to move quickly, but spends unnecessary time explaining auction methods and the history of rare jewelry. There is absolutely no suspense in the story, and the mystery of the identity of the resident director from the KGB is solved so quickly and easily that there is no climax in the narrative.

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sp; Nothing new is learned about James Bond. The story opens with Bond in a foul mood, doing routine office paperwork, and basically complaining of that familiar malaise: boredom. If "The Property of a Lady" is an example of one of Bond's routine assignments, Bond must lead a dull life indeed when he's not pursuing someone like Ernst Blofeld or Auric Goldfinger (which only occurs once a year in a major novel).

  M shows that he, too, is susceptible to the fear of boredom. When Bond is summoned to M's office, he unexpectedly finds M with a stranger, a Dr. Fanshawe, who is an expert on jewelry.

  Bond wished that M. had given him some kind of a brief, hadn't got this puckish, rather childishly malign desire to surprise—to spring the jack-in-the-box on his staff. But Bond, remembering his own boredom of ten minutes ago, and putting himself in M's place, had the intuition to realize that M. himself might have been subject to the same June heat, the same oppressive vacuum in his duties, and, faced by the unexpected relief of an emergency, a small one perhaps, had decided to extract the maximum effect, the maximum drama, out of it to relieve his own tedium.