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Raymond Benson gives us an insight into the life and origins of Felix Leiter.
I love Felix Leiter. Always have. Ever since I first read Ian Fleming’s novels in the 1960s. While it was certainly the character of James Bond who lit a fire under me at a very young age, I identified with Felix. After all, Felix was a Texan. So was I. In the premiere book, Casino Royale, Bond reflects that “good Americans were fine people and that most of them seemed to come from Texas.”
Where did the author find his inspiration for Felix Leiter? We really don’t know. Felix’s first name was one of the middle names of Fleming’s longtime friend, John Felix Charles Bryce (but everyone knew him as “Ivar”). The surname came from Fleming’s Washington, DC friends, socialites Tommy and Marion “Oatsie” Leiter. Neither of them were Texans. Did Fleming know any Texans? I am not aware of any evidence to that effect.
Unless one has read Fleming’s books, a Bond fan might not know the “real Felix.” While several fine actors have portrayed the character on film, a faithful incarnation of Fleming’s Felix has never been seen.
Allow me to paint a portrait of Ian Fleming’s Felix Leiter. Felix is Bond’s closest ally in six of the novels. At first, he’s with the CIA. After Felix loses a right arm and a leg to a shark in Live and Let Die, the CIA lets him go; however, he then finds work with Pinkerton’s Detective Agency. Felix remains with Pinkerton’s until Thunderball, in which Allen Dulles (the CIA chief) puts Felix on the reserve force. Felix is again placed on the reserves in The Man With the Golden Gun.
When Bond meets him in Casino Royale, Felix is about thirty-five. He is tall and thin, and he wears his clothes “loosely from his shoulders like Frank Sinatra.” Although his movements and speech are slow, Bond gets the feeling that there is plenty of speed and strength in Felix, and that he would be a “tough and cruel fighter.” Fleming goes on to describe him in Chapter 7:
‘As he sat hunched over the table, he seemed to have some of the jackknife quality of a falcon. There was this impression also in his face, in the sharpness of his chin and cheekbones and the wide wry mouth. His grey eyes had a feline slant which was increased by his habit of screwing them up against the smoke of the Chesterfields which he tapped out of the pack in a chain. The permanent wrinkles which this habit had etched at the corners gave the impression that he smiled more with his eyes than with his mouth. A mop of straw-coloured hair lent his face a boyish look which closer examination contradicted.’
One of the ties between the Englishman and the American may be that they enjoy being barroom rivals. There is almost always an obligatory scene in which the two visit a bar and drink themselves silly. In Casino Royale, Bond educates Felix on the making of a “real” martini, and Felix remembers the formula in subsequent novels. In Thunderball, Felix seems to have studied martinis thoroughly, for he, in turn, educates a barman in a Nassau hotel on the ingredients of that real martini. Felix knows when he’s being had; the martinis at the hotel are served with inadequate portions of liquor. Felix explains to the barman: “… here’s one who’s dry behind the ears. A good barman should learn to be able to recognize the serious drinker from the status-seeker who wants just to be seen in your fine bar.”
Kingsley Amis, in The James Bond Dossier,seems to think that Felix has no personality. Nonsense! (Sorry, Kingsley.) Felix’s personality is clearly revealed in his manner of speech and the subjects about which he speaks, as well as through several of the character’s idiosyncrasies. For instance, Felix is a jazz fan, and he escapes a nasty scrape in Live and Let Die by “arguing the finer points of jazz” with his black captor. Felix tells Bond many anecdotes about America while giving him guided tours of New York, Saratoga, or Florida. He and Bond have a good laugh at the quaint citizens of St Petersburg, and they take pleasure in complaining about the commercialism of the Bahamas’ hotels.
Felix is actually a bit of a goofball! He is so buoyant that the sun always seems to shine on him when he’s around Bond. Even after his mishap with the shark, Felix retains his upbeat humor. He’s the kind of joker who comes up behind Bond (in Diamonds Are Forever), sticks his hook against Bond’s back, and says, “All right, Limey. Take it easy unless you want lead for lunch.”
Most importantly, though, is the fact that Felix reinforces the theme of Friendship running through the series. The bond between the two men is extremely heartfelt. Felix Leiter, of all of Bond’s allies, brings to the books a warmth and joviality which is missing most of the time.
When Bond first encounters Felix in Casino Royale, the Texan is amiable and boyish. Fleming succeeds in giving the character a personality that is distinctly American. But the CIA man is a mere shell of what is to come. Not much is revealed about Felix in Casino Royale, but he is an immediately likeable figure. Fleming was wise in using Felix as the “cavalry to the rescue” when Bond loses all his money at the baccarat table.
Felix is further developed in Live and Let Die, where he has a strong supporting role. His cheeriness is an excellent complement to Bond’s seriousness, almost a breath of fresh air. Felix acts as Bond’s guide to America, and much of Fleming’s sense of humor is revealed in the Texan’s speeches: “You can get through any American conversation,” advised Leiter, “with ‘Yeah,’ ‘Nope,’ and ‘Sure.’ The English word to be avoided at all costs,” added Leiter, “was ‘Ectually,’” Bond had said that this word was not part of his vocabulary.
The friendship between Bond and Felix comes to fruition in this second novel. From the first chapter, in which the American surprises the Englishman by greeting him in a hotel room, to the tragic incident in which Felix almost loses his life to a shark, the men are inseparable. They barhop through Harlem together, sharing meals, conversation, and clue-gathering. Despite their differences in background, the men hit it off as if they’ve been friends since childhood. Bond seems to depend on this alliance with a male friend—it means more to him, sometimes, than his relationship with any woman in the novels. Bond even has trouble keeping the emotion from choking his voice in Chapter 17 when he learns that Felix, after having lost half an arm and half a leg, will live after all.
‘Bond’s heart was full. He looked out of the window. “Tell him to get well quickly,” he said abruptly. “Tell him I miss him.”’
Interestingly, Fleming killed off Felix in the first draft of the novel. It was the author’s American literary agent, Naomi Burton, who objected and talked Fleming into keeping Felix alive. She recognised the appeal of the character.
One of the highlights of Diamonds Are Forever is Bond’s reunion with Felix. Bond seems to remove his cold, stone-faced exterior when he’s around the Texan. Their tight friendship is apparent in their conversation and actions. Bond again allows some emotion to reveal itself when he says goodbye to Felix toward the end of the novel in Chapter 21:
‘Bond felt a lump in his throat as he watched the lanky figure limp off to his car after being warmly embraced by Tiffany Case. “You’ve got yourself a good friend there,” said the girl.
“Yes,” said Bond, “Felix is all of that.”’
Felix accompanies Bond to Saratoga and again pops up in the nick of time in Las Vegas. Now Felix is working for Pinkerton’s Detective Agency, “The Eye That Never Sleeps.” Felix does not seem bitter at all about carrying a steel hook for a right hand or limping through life with a wooden leg. He is as good-humored as ever. Perhaps this conscious negation of his physical disabilities is one reason why Felix remains a useful friend to Bond. Their reunion on the streets of New York is a joyful moment: they immediately proceed to their usual form of entertainment, i.e., eating and drinking. Besides procuring Bond’s drinks, Felix takes the liberty of ordering the Englishman’s meal. Felix is once again very helpful as Bond’s tour guide. He “mansplains” everything Bond needs to know about the Saratoga race track, Las Vegas gambling statistics, and American life.
The character appears only briefly at the end of Goldfinger, again in the form of cavalry to the rescue. He saves Bond’s life and the Englishman admits that Felix is always good at doing so. Felix, who still works for Pinkerton’s, is the same cordial character who is so refreshing to have around. It’s too bad his appearance is so brief in the book.
Felix has one of his biggest roles in Thunderball. The alliance between Bond and Felix is the tightest it has ever been. The loyalty these two men have for each other is one of the warmest qualities of the book—the sequence in which Bond meets the CIA agent at the airport and realizes it’s none other than Felix is an uplifting moment. Then it seems all they want to do is drink each other under the table after gorging themselves with meals. Describing the “chopped tenderloin of beef” at the Royal Bahamian, Nassau in Chapter 12, Felix complains, “This is hamburger and bad hamburger. The French onion rings were never in France, and what’s more, they’re not even rings. They’re oval.”
Bond and Felix constantly kid each other, much like how I understand the relationship between Ian Fleming and his American friend, Ernest Cuneo, would have played out. For example, in the following Chapter 14, the men are using the cover of a property-seeking English businessman and his American lawyer when they meet in a hotel restaurant:
‘Bond joined Leiter at a corner table. They both wore white dinner jackets with their dress trousers. Bond had pointed up his rich, property-seeking status with a wine-red cummerbund. Leiter laughed. “I nearly tied a gold-plated bicycle chain round my waist in case of trouble, but I remembered just in time that I’m a peaceful lawyer. I suppose it’s right that you should get the girls on this assignment I suppose I just stand by and arrange the marriage settlement and later the alimony.”’
Felix doesn’t seem to have any bitterness about the loss of his right hand and leg. Toward the end of the book in Chapter 22, the Texan insists on joining Bond in the underwater ambush of Largo’s men:
‘Felix Leiter interrupted. He said obstinately, “And don’t think you’re going to leave me behind eating Virginia ham. I put an extra foot-flipper on this”—he held up the shining hook—”and I’ll race you over half a mile any day, gammy leg and all. You’d be surprised the things one gets around to improvising when someone chews off one of your arms. Compensation it’s called by the medics, in case you hadn’t heard about it…”
Leiter turned to Bond. “You goddam shyster. Thought you were going to leave your old pal behind, didn’t you? God, the treachery of you Limeys! Perfidious Albion is right, all right.”
Bond laughed. “How the hell was I to know you’d been in the hands of rehabilitators and therapists and so on? I never knew you took life so seriously. I suppose you’ve even found some way of petting with that damned meathook of yours.” Leiter said darkly, “You’d be surprised. Get a girl round the arm with this and you’d be amazed the effect it has on their good resolutions.”’
The character’s final Fleming appearance is in The Man With the Golden Gun. Although there is no traditional drinking scene between Bond and Felix (a disappointing first), the sequences in which the Texan appears are high points. As usual, Felix 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, Felix is hurt and can’t participate in the final battle. Felix escapes this adventure by breaking his one good leg. Then, in a half-kidding, half-poignant moment in Chapter 15 as he leaves the hospital on crutches where Bond is under medical care, Felix 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.’
It is my great pleasure and privilege to be inserting into Ian Fleming’s timeline a special tale featuring someone I’ve considered a friend for a long time… Felix Leiter in The Hook and the Eye.
For more insights from Raymond, check out his book, The James Bond Bedside Companion.
