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The Story Behind: The Living Daylights

Writer Tom Cull takes us on a journey into Fleming’s short story of assassination on the streets of Berlin; the fulcrum of Cold War tension.

The Living Daylights had a few working titles including Trigger Finger, but first appeared in The Sunday Times colour supplement in 1962, under the title Berlin Escape. Written in two weeks at the end of September, before On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and after the disappointing reception of The Spy Who Loved Me, this short story was a serious, back-to-basics effort, which took Bond to his secret service roots. Not for nothing did Bond own a Double-0 status and this was Fleming’s way of proving it: by the no-nonsense briefing from M, target practice at the Century Range in Bisley, then off to Berlin to assassinate a deadly KGB sniper codenamed Trigger.

Original Magazine Trigger Finger

It is a taut, tough and brutally realistic window into a fraught Cold War Berlin, which by 1961 was still emerging from economic and political divisions from a war that destroyed 50% of the city and left 8 million dead. Two very different political ideologies were pitted against each other between the Soviet socialist sector in the East of Berlin and the Allied sector in the West. The Soviets dismantled much of the industries and transport that existed, which encouraged a thriving black market economy and culminated in the ultimate segregation – the Berlin Wall. When Fleming visited Berlin for part of his Thrilling Cities volume, he described the Eastern Sector where ‘death and chaos and, worst of all, present drabness hang most heavily in the air.’

Fleming knew Germany well from his education and travels, but to reflect the state of play on the ground during the Cold War with the right verisimilitude, he turned to a trusted colleague and friend, who was every bit as skilled as Bond; Anthony Terry.

Terry had worked under Fleming for the Mercury Foreign News Service in Vienna, Bonn, Paris, and most importantly, Berlin. Terry had been one of MI6’s most successful agents during WW2 and his knowledge of Berlin provided a wealth of intelligence, or ‘gen’ as Fleming would commonly say. He ran his foreign correspondents at the newspaper much like he had whilst in Naval Intelligence, and the lines were often blurred as to whether he was seeking news stories or genuine intelligence to relay back to his former employers. One such recipient was the MI6 officer Nicholas Elliot, who was at Durnford School with Fleming and became famous for the disappearance of Lionel ‘Buster’ Crabb and the defection of Kim Philby on his watch.

Terry’s detailed knowledge of Germany provided Fleming with local news and gossip on Berlin for his regular Atticus column (chronicling a range of obscure incidents, interesting facts and mild gossip) at The Sunday Times, as well as much of the location information for the chapter on Berlin in Thrilling Cities. Letters between the two frequently flowed between Kemsley House and wherever Terry was at the time in Germany. Fleming’s more light-hearted letters, still revelling in the cloak and dagger aspects of the work, were met with Terry’s precise (and lengthy) replies; the hallmarks of an intelligence officer.

In a letter sent to Fleming in 1956, Terry wrote responses to questions (with alternative scenarios) for Fleming to use for his next story, even including tram numbers and building addresses. The detail was remarkable. Fleming responded in a letter to Anthony Terry on 17th July 1956:

‘You really shouldn’t have taken so much trouble. You have practically written a thriller and I was fascinated by all the gen.’

Fleming had moved to 4 Mitre Court, just off Fleet St., after finishing with The Sunday Times, and continued to correspond with Terry – this time more as friends than as business associates. On 31st October 1961 Fleming, without hesitation, wrote to Terry for advice on his next story, to be set in Berlin. For example, he asked about which sectors Kochstrasse and Wilhelmstrasse were in order to accurately portray the apartment buildings where Bond and Trigger are respectively holed up waiting for Agent 272 to make a run for it between the East and West sectors.

Hardback book cover for Octopussy and the Living Daylights by Ian Fleming, designed by Michael Gillette.

The crux of the drama takes place over the three days and nights where Bond waits patiently to take the shot from 40a Wilhelmstrasse, one block away from Checkpoint Charlie. This crossing point between the East and West sectors was designated for foreigners and members of the Allied forces and later became a renowned symbol for the Cold War. Today it is a tourist attraction, but in 1962, when The Living Daylights was written, this might have been the first introduction to it for his readers, despite several incidents there. The story eerily foreshadowed the death of an East German teenager Peter Fechter on 17 August 1962, six months after the story was first published. Fechter was shot by East German guards when trying to cross the wall into the West and bled to death a few metres inside the Soviet sector.

A tedious enough task as it was for Bond, he suffers further from the company of straight-laced staff-man Captain Paul Sender, nervously watching over him all the time with only a bottle of Dimple Haig and a copy of Verderbt, Verdammt, Verraten (a fabrication of Fleming’s) as respite.

Through Sender’s character, Fleming inserts a dig at Wykehamists (former pupils of Winchester College) on several occasions. Bond paints him as a tea or a Horlicks man and learns all he needs from his tie:

Bond knew the type: backbone of the Civil Service; over-crammed and under-loved at Winchester; a good second in PPE at Oxford; the war, staff jobs he would have done meticulously; perhaps an OBE.’

He even has a ‘Wykehamist snore’.

As the action unfolds, the noise of the orchestra cleverly masks the KGB’s gunfire as they try to prevent the agent whom Bond has been sent to protect, escape to the West. It is commonly suggested that this idea was inspired by Pat Reid’s true-life escape from the Colditz prisoner of war camp, where two escapees ran across a courtyard under the cover of orchestra noise. The conductor of the Colditz orchestra was Reid’s fellow POW Douglas Bader, who happened to be a golfing partner of Fleming later in life.

Bond assumes his target, ‘Trigger’ is a man but it turns out to be the beautiful woman he had spotted with the orchestra earlier carrying a cello case. The inspiration for this character was clear:

‘Of course Suggia had managed to look elegant, as did that girl Amaryllis somebody.’

This is a reference to Fleming’s sister Amaryllis Fleming, who was a celebrated cellist and had been mentored by the Portuguese concert cellist Guilhermina Suggia.  Amaryllis was a very popular member of the Fleming clan. In Fergus Fleming’s biography Amaryllis Fleming, he mentions that Ian had even offered her royalties from From Russia, with Love, so it was fitting that she should have been immortalised at some point within one of his stories. She solemnly returned the favour by playing Bach’s Sarabande in C-minor at Fleming’s funeral.

Paperback book cover for Octopussy and the Living Daylights by Ian Fleming.

Yet perhaps another inspiration, not directly indicated, came from a real-life Russian sniper – one who was responsible for fifty-four confirmed kills, including enemy snipers during the Battle of Vilnius. Roza Shanina was a beautiful, blonde Russian sniper and was among the first female snipers to receive the Soviet Medal for Courage. Roza only lived to be 20 years old, killed in battle in 1945, but her legend as ‘the unseen terror of East Prussia’ lived on. Might Fleming have had her in mind for ‘Trigger’ too? It’s certainly possible… Fleming’s ‘Trigger’ was luckier than Roza. Bond could not bring himself to kill her, instead shooting her Kalashnikov from her hands. When quizzed by Sender as to why Bond let her off, he remarks:

‘Certainly broke her nerve for that kind of work. Scared the living daylights out of her. In my book, that was enough.’

Ours too.

Tom Cull runs Artistic Licence Renewed. He knew iconic Bond cover artist Richard Chopping well as a child and Tom’s great grandfather hired a young Ian Fleming to work at the family bank Cull & Co. between 1933 and 1935.

The Story Behind: Ian & Maud

The diaries of Maud Russell, A Constant Heart, shed interesting light on Ian Fleming’s War years. Here Josephine Lane examines their contents and shares insights into this intimate and significant relationship.

 On the 8th February 1944, Maud Russell wrote in her diary,

‘Yesterday I. came to dinner, looking well and busy with a dream, the dream being a house and 10 acres on a mountain slope in Jamaica after the war.’

‘I.’ was none other than Ian Fleming, who went on to realise this exotic dream in 1947 by buying an old donkey racetrack in Jamaica where he built GoldenEye, the home which sheltered him from the bitter British winter and where he wrote his James Bond novels every year from 1952 until his death in 1964.  Russell’s recently published war diaries reveal that it was her gift of £5,000 that enabled Fleming to build this creative sanctuary which nurtured the rise of his fictional hero. But who was Fleming’s generous benefactor and what significance does their relationship with each other hold?

Born in 1891 to German Jewish parents who had settled in London in the 1880s, Maud Russell was a society hostess and one of the foremost French art collectors of her time. She married Gilbert Russell, a stockbroker and cousin of the Duke of Bedford, during the First World War and they lived between the beautiful Mottisfont Abbey in Hampshire and their house in Cavendish Square in London. Gilbert introduced Maud to many politicians and members of the aristocracy while her interest in the arts encouraged a host of artists, writers, society figures and musicians into their social circle. Amongst them was Ian Fleming who Maud described as having the ‘handsome looks of a fallen angel.’ Although Maud was quite a few years older than Ian, their relationship blossomed from casual acquaintances to intimate friends and likely lovers.

A Constant Heart: The War Diaries of Maud Russell 1938-1945 is skilfully and affectionately edited by Maud’s granddaughter Emily Russell and reveals an intimate portrait of an intelligent and independent-minded woman who was surrounded by influential people of the day. The book is bursting with references to key figures of the time, such as this auspicious entry about a new acquaintance she met when dining with Lord Louis Mountbatten in 1942, ‘At lunch there was his nephew Prince Philip of Greece, a nice looking man, who speaks perfect English and is in the Navy. It struck me afterwards that he would do for Princess Elizabeth.’

Maud’s passion for art led her to be acquainted with several exceptional artists of the day and the diaries record lunches with Matisse, for whom she sat in the 1930s, members of the Bloomsbury Group and the photographer Cecil Beaton. She was also close friends with the artist Boris Anrep who specialised in the art of mosaic and whose work can be seen in the foyer of the National Gallery; a project funded by Maud. Undoubtedly her most important artistic relationship during this period was with Rex Whistler whom Maud commissioned to undertake a stunning and vast trompe l’oeil in what is now known as the Whistler Room at Mottisfont Abbey.

As well as documenting meetings with interesting figures from the 1940s, the diaries open a captivating window into a very unique perspective of life during the Second World War. They are a stark reminder of the great uncertainty and the daily anxiety faced when victory against the Axis powers was by no means guaranteed and international freedom was at grave risk. ‘I was in a rage all day and mad to think we have so miscalculated the German forces as to be in danger of losing Egypt… I roared myself hoarse.’

But few fights were more personal than Maud’s own endeavour to help her Jewish relatives living in Germany. On the 9th–10th November 1938 there was an atrocious, nationwide attack on the Jews in Germany, which came to be known as Kristallnacht – the Night of Broken Glass. Approximately 1,000 synagogues were burned, 7,000 Jewish businesses were destroyed, 91 Jews were murdered and tens of thousands more were arrested and interned in concentration camps. The situation was critical and Maud not only campaigned for visas for her relatives but actually flew to Cologne in December, risking her own safety to help her family. ‘I had arrived on the day when all Jews in Germany were ordered to stay indoors between 8am and 8pm so I wondered whether my appearance might arouse comment, but it didn’t.’ The courage and fearlessness of such actions inspire limitless admiration.

‘I think these months are enormously significant and interesting but I wish I was living on another planet.’

The diaries also bear witness to the death of Maud’s beloved husband Gilbert, who died of asthma in 1942. These passages are incredibly moving, as Maud unravels her grief and processes her loss;

‘The main, the fullest, the richest and the most feeling part of life ended with him. I gave him all the tenderness I possessed. There was little over.’

Reading through the diaries it becomes clear how vital her relationship with Ian Fleming was, particularly during this difficult time, ‘His solid friendship helped me these days. He understood how I felt about G. I think he was very distressed about Gilbert himself.’ Indeed, it is likely that Gilbert Russell engineered Fleming’s role in Naval Intelligence during the War and in turn Ian helped Maud to obtain a post in the Admiralty after Gilbert’s death in her bid to forge a new life.

‘He loves his NID work better than anything he has ever done, I think, except skiing.’

The diaries reveal an intimate closeness and fond affection between Ian and Maud, who meet at least once a week throughout the war. An outcome of this is the extraordinary insight the diaries provide into Fleming’s wartime activities. Amongst other things she notes that Fleming broadcasts directly to the Germans, tours the coastal defences, witnesses the Dieppe raid from a destroyer and visits Spain and Portugal to discuss intelligence matters with Roosevelt’s special envoy. A particularly shocking anecdote is recorded in November 1941,

‘He has been on some dangerous job again. He cannot ever tell me what they are.  A house in which he was dining was blown from under him. He and his friends were left marooned on the third floor, the staircase and most of the floors below were blown away. Eventually there was a tap at the window, a fireman’s head appeared and they left the house by the fireman’s ladder. The story was told as if there hadn’t been any danger.’

‘We discussed how either would know if the other was killed.  Not knowing at once gives an empty blank feeling.’

There are hints throughout the diaries that Ian and Maud’s relationship was more intimate than mere friendship. Maud provided Ian with his identification tag during the War (which he stipulated be made of gun-metal) and Emily Russell reveals that she found an envelope labelled ‘I.’s’ containing a lock of black hair, amongst her grandmother’s possessions. However, most telling of all is this touching and raw recollection, ‘He talked about marrying me, I had qualities he wants to find. I said, ‘No, ages makes it impossible.’ He said, ‘If I was five years older.’ ‘No,’ I said, ‘If you were at least 10 years older.’ For he is sixteen and a half years younger than me. If he were 10 years older I would marry him, but it’s no use a woman of 52 trying to keep pace with a man of 36. After a few years he might fall in love and want me to release him. I should do it and be alone again after much pain and drama, a good deal older, and in still greater need of compassion. He is very good to me.’

A Constant Heart is a fascinating book, documenting a period of great international importance from a very personal perspective. Maud Russell’s concise and witty records set within an awe-inspiring social circle are a joy to read and her relationship with Ian Fleming is both moving and surprising. Little was known about Maud’s role in Ian’s life before the publication of these diaries and it is a pleasure to encounter Fleming from her perspective as a kind and thoughtful friend. And perhaps her influence runs deeper still. Without her generous gift of £5,000 who knows whether Fleming would have had the peace, quiet and solitude to dedicate himself to devising the deeds of agent 007. But when one learns that he addressed his correspondence to her as ‘Dear M.,’ perhaps it could be argued that her impact was even more fundamental to the literary lore of James Bond.

A Constant Heart: The War Diaries of Maud Russell 1938-1945 is published by Dovecote Press. Photographs courtesy of Dovecote Press and Emily Russell.

Kim Sherwood: Researching The Alpine For Double Or Nothing

‘I know that you don’t have a driver’s licence, but how much experience do you have behind the wheel?’ asks the man in charge. ‘Literally zero,’ I tell him. Lorne Mitchener, the Sales Manager at Thruxton Circuit – the fastest race track in the UK – takes this with admirable calm, as they’re about to let me get behind the wheel of an Alpine. He asks if I’m OK with speed and I flat out lie. No one here needs to know I’ve been sick in a Jaguar and a Tesla before. How did I get myself into this position?

It started with Double or Nothing, my first novel expanding the world of James Bond. The Ian Fleming estate asked if I could include the Alpine A110S in the novel, as it’s a favourite of the managing director and Ian Fleming loved to include interesting cars in his books. I took one look at this beautiful car and decided that was the easiest editorial note in the world. Johanna Harwood (003) was now the proud driver of a matt thunder grey Alpine A110S.

Paperback book cover for Double or Nothing by Kim Sherwood.

There was only one hitch – I can’t drive. So a rally driver took me out in the car in Edinburgh to give me a taste. This was a covert mission as I wasn’t yet announced as the new author of James Bond. When I got in the car, I thanked the driver, explaining my driving illiteracy. We had a thrilling afternoon bombing around as I made notes on the sound of the engine and sensation of the low suspension. Then the driver asked me what I was doing there, exactly. ‘Um… I’m writing a book about cars.’ A beat. ‘But you just told me you can’t drive.’ ‘Right.’ Thinking furiously. ‘It’s a very limited book about cars.’

The fact that I can’t drive but I’m writing in the Bond universe proved such a rich irony that we’ve now got to a point where journalists open interviews by saying: ‘So, it’s a famous fact about you that you can’t drive…’ Well, I don’t know if it’s a famous fact, but when Alpine got wind of this, they offered to teach me how to drive at Thruxton Race Circuit. What better way to learn to drive than in a £70,000 work of art?

The day began with racer and F1 commentator Peter “Snowy” Snowden taking me out in the Alpine to get a feel of it on the track. As we passed 125mph, I piped up that I do actually sometimes get car sick… He told me we weren’t going fast yet, and would I be happy with a little more speed? Well, when in Rome/Andover. Reader, I loved it.

As Snowy hurtled between points, showing me how the car can open up on the track, nimble as a dancer and fast as a rocket, I realised this wasn’t driving. This was interdimensional travel and I just had to enjoy the ride. I’ve never grinned so much while holding on for dear life. Inside the vehicle, you’re so low to the ground every revolution of the wheel spins your stomach and rattles your bones. But outside, Snowy told me we would look smooth: just like a swan, serene on the surface, furious underneath. (The Serene & The Furious probably wouldn’t make such a successful franchise.) Snowy also turned out to be a Bond and Aston Martin aficionado, so our drive turned into the fastest interview I’ve ever done. Check out the videos on my Instagram!

Then it was my turn. Lorne put me behind the wheel of a Toyota GT86 first, to see how my feet fared (I also didn’t disclose that my feet are not to be relied upon at the best of times – if it’s between me and a villain in a foot race, the villain is winning). The moment I eased off the brakes and let the car coast forward felt like flying. Soon I was weaving between cones, and I suppose my feet did alright because the Alpine A110S arrived next. Now, if you’re panicking at this point, let me reassure you I was learning to drive for the very first time in a race car but not on a race track. I was very far from anyone I could hit. Apart from my family. When Lorne told me to drive over to them, he did have to add: ‘… but don’t drive into them.’

The Alpine was an entirely different beast from the Toyota. The car wanted to hurtle forward with the slightest touch. I was nervous at first but Lorne distracted me with questions about growing up in London and then before I knew it I was rounding corners at top speed. Possibly too much top speed.

‘That’s a really well-taken corner,’ said Lorne. ‘But you do need to apply the brakes.’ Right. Learning as I go! I didn’t want to get out of the car. Driving gave me a new appreciation not only for the incredible car stunts in the Bond film franchise, but most especially for Johanna Harwood’s relationship with her car. It is an extension of herself: agile, responsive, tough, bat-out-of-hell, beautiful. 

I was already dancing with victory when Lorne said they had one more surprise for me. They couldn’t let me go without getting me in an Aston Martin. If the Alpine A110S is a dancer, the Aston Martin Vantage AMR is all muscle. You’ll be relieved to hear I wasn’t driving. That responsibility was given to James Steventon. He also didn’t bother braking around the corners, and as we tested the fabric of space and time, I told him he looked remarkably relaxed, while every single muscle in my body was tensed.

‘That’s the trick,’ he said. ‘I’m half asleep right now. You have to be loose to have fast reflexes.’ It was eye-opening for me as a writer, and a dream come true for me as a Bond fan. And the thrills weren’t over yet. At the end of the day, Lorne told me that if I actually learn to drive, I can get behind the wheel of any car I want and take it on the track. I’m already arranging lessons. But for now, the next time a journalist asks me if I can drive, I’ll tell them: ‘Yes, but only sports cars…’

Discover Kim’s Double O series – Double or Nothing, A Spy Like Me and the soon to be released Hurricane Room.

The Story Behind: The Ian Fleming Doctor Bird

Meet Jim Wright, author of The Real James Bond, the biography of the ornithologist whose name was appropriated by Ian Fleming for his 007. Jim gives us an insight into the story of the Fleming Doctor Bird.

Wonder why the colophon for Ian Fleming Publications features a bird, and what kind of bird it is? For the answer, look no farther than For Your Eyes Only, arguably the best short story in the 1960 compilation of the same name. Fleming begins the tale in a most atypical fashion. He spends the first 105 words waxing poetic about the bird that would become integral to the colophon and Ian Fleming Publications’ logo:

‘The most beautiful bird in Jamaica, and some say the most beautiful bird in the world, is the streamertail or doctor hummingbird. The cock bird is about nine inches long, but seven inches of it are tail – two long black feathers that curve and cross each other and whose inner edges are in a form of scalloped design. The head and crest are black, the wings dark green, the long bill is scarlet, and the eyes, bright and confiding, are black. The body is emerald green, so dazzling that when the sun is on the breast you see the brightest green thing in nature.’

Paperback book cover for For Your Eyes Only by Ian Fleming.

Appropriately, the Red-billed Streamertail also takes centre stage on the front cover of Ian Fleming Publications’ new reissue of For Your Eyes Only. Webb & Webb Design Ltd. surely must have taken Fleming’s description to heart when they created the cover. If you look closely, you can see one of those long tailfeathers arching behind the first “0” in 007.

The hummingbirds of Jamaica were a big Fleming favourite. After he built GoldenEye on a bluff overlooking the Caribbean in the late 1940s, he planted hibiscus and bougainvillea flowers to attract these dynamic little fliers – especially the Red-billed Streamertails that grace the property to this day.  Fleming’s stepson Raymond O’Neill once commented about GoldenEye: ‘Hummingbirds buzzing all around you – it was absolute paradise.’

The plantings and a local tree known as a Poor Man’s Orchid also likely attracted the two other hummers known only to this island nation: The muscular Jamaican Mango, with its iridescent green and purple feathers, and the Vervain, just a wisp or two larger than neighbouring Cuba’s Bee Hummingbird, the smallest in the world.

The Streamertail is also called the Doctor Bird, most likely as a result of its stiff black crest and elongated tail feathers, which were said to resemble the old-fashioned top hat and long tailcoats that Jamaican doctors once wore. Another theory maintains that the name originates from the way these birds pierce the flowers with their bills to extract nectar like a doctor with a syringe. Not only are these scissor-tailed hummers beautiful to watch, but they make distinct sounds with both their wings and their bills. Even with their oversized tail feathers, they weigh just 6 grams, but you can hear them coming 50 yards away.

When Fleming and Ann Charteris Harmsworth married in March 1952, he described ‘a marvellous honeymoon among hummingbirds and barracudas.’ Later that same year, back in Britain and increasingly homesick for Jamaica, he told his friend and literary critic Cyril Connolly that ‘the Doctor Birds are waiting in the Crown of Thorns bushes and the butterfly fish on the reef.’ Another literary friend of the family, Peter Quennell, talked of visiting GoldenEye and seeing Doctor Birds appear “in a spark of celestial brilliance.”

Unlike most of the wild birds that make cameo appearances in the 007 thrillers, the Streamertails at the beginning of For Your Eyes Only are not gunned down by a villain. Perhaps it’s because they are never within shooting range. Perhaps the birds are too small for a villain to shoot. Or perhaps Fleming could never bring himself to kill such a beautiful bird, even on paper.

Find out more about Jim and his book here.

The Story Behind: Printing Our 007 Paperbacks

If you’ve ever wondered what goes into making a physical book, come with us as we head to CPI Books for a behind the scenes look. Grab your hi-vis vest and take a tour along their production line as they produce our Ian Fleming Bond paperback collection.

CPI are a large firm who print around 450 million books a year in sixteen sites around the world. A big delivery of paper has just been delivered when we arrive and we review different weights, densities and colour options. Together we choose a paper which has good opacity, excellent ink absorption and is thick enough to feel substantial but not too heavy as to slow the fast pace of Bond’s adventures!

The paper is now fed in ready to receive the iconic words of Ian Fleming. Hundreds of text pages are printed per minute and the entire first run of Casino Royale is completed in less than two hours.

The interior text pages are assembled in sets of two, with both books printed simultaneously on the same sheet of paper. Books are printed in sections – called ‘signatures – of eight, twelve or sixteen. Our paperbacks are printed in signatures of eight.

Next: our book covers. CPI produces these at their specialist cover printing site and ships them to the page print site to be collated into books. To achieve the modern vibrant effect we want, CPI use a high level of ink density and finish the paper with a soft touch matt lamination. There’s also a wide range of metallic effects on offer, in a dazzling spectrum of colours. This is just one of the many options CPI give to make a book look extra special, including embossing, debossing, spot varnish and sprayed edges. Metallic printing requires special rolls of foil and we use one of the golds for one of our Bond covers – can you guess which one?

As with the text pages, two covers are printed on one sheet, with the front side of one cover opposite the back inside of the other.

The paperbacks need to be glued together and to do this, individual plugs of dry glue are melted in a vat and applied to the spines

Next we watch the book take shape with the cover applied. Glue and ink need time to dry and the factory floor is designed so that by the time the books have travelled to the next part of the assembly line they are cool enough for the next stage.

The assembled books are stacked with their covers cut to size and are checked for quality. Now to trim the inside text pages.

Books are now completely cut to size and approved by Quality Control. All that’s left is to box them up and ship out to our retailers, ready to go on their shelves!

Paperback book cover for Casino Royale by Ian Fleming.

Statement: Changes To The New Editions Of Ian Fleming’s Bond Stories

A statement from the Fleming Family.

In 1953 when Ian Fleming began to write his second James Bond novel, Live and Let Die, a youthful Queen Elizabeth had just ascended the throne, Winston Churchill was Prime Minister and Jamaica, where much of the plot is set, was still nine years away from gaining its independence from the British Empire. In short, the world was a very different place than it is now.

Published a year later in Britain, Fleming’s text drew little comment from his editors. Yet, ahead of publication in the US in 1955, Al Hart, editor at Fleming’s US publisher, Macmillan, suggested a number of changes to Live and Let Die. Some of these corrected minor factual errors. Others deleted or changed passages or words Hart felt were racially troubling, even then. Fleming approved all the changes and the version of Live and Let Die published in America was therefore different from the British edition, and from his letters, it seems Fleming preferred the amended US version.

In 2017, when Vintage published a hardback edition of Live and Let Die, a version of the US text was used with an introduction explaining the changes. We have retained these changes.

When Fleming’s books came home to Ian Fleming Publications Ltd, the Fleming family company that owns the literary copyright in his books, we announced plans to publish them under its own imprint for the first time. Our first decision was to mark the 70th anniversary of the original publication of Casino Royale, the first 007 novel, by publishing new editions of all the Bonds.

With that decision, came a discussion. As the author’s literary estate and now publishers, what responsibility did we have, if any, to review the original texts? We consulted with a number of external parties but ultimately decided that, rather than making changes in line with their advice, it was instead most appropriate to look for guidance from the author himself. The original US version of Live and Let Die, approved and apparently favoured by Ian, had removed some racial terms which were problematic even in mid-1950s America, and would certainly be considered deeply offensive now by the vast majority of readers.

We took that as our starting point, but felt strongly that it was not our role to comb out every word or phrase that had the potential to offend. We thus decided to apply the sensibilities of the original US edition of Live and Let Die consistently, across all the texts. Some racial words likely to cause great offence now, and detract from a reader’s enjoyment, have been altered, while keeping as close as possible to the original text and the period.

The changes are very small in number. Indeed some books, including Casino Royale, remain completely unaltered. We are certain Ian Fleming would approve these edits, just as he approved the changes to the US edition of Live and Let Die, and we encourage people to read the books for themselves.

In James Bond, Ian Fleming created one of the most famous literary characters in history. His books deserve to be read and enjoyed as much now as when they were written. We believe the new Bond editions will extend their pleasure to new audiences. We are certain that is something Ian Fleming would have wanted.

The Story Behind: The Casino Royale Graphic Novel

Love Casino Royale? Discover the graphic novel. Adapted by Van Jensen, with stunning artwork by Dennis Calero and a cover by Fay Dalton, this visual delight is a fantastic addition to the James Bond library.

When Ian Fleming’s Casino Royale was first published in 1953, it struck a chord with its readers. Britain was reeling from World War Two, rationing was still in force and the nation’s global importance was on the wane.  Audiences reached for Casino Royale to indulge in escapism and to believe in the vision that, behind the scenes, Britain was still a major player. The fanciful yet brutally real world Fleming created was entertainment in its purest form.

 The first time we meet James Bond, he is not what one might expect.  We join him in a French casino at 3am where the air is stale and the mood is sombre. Far from being the slick superhero familiar to film audiences, he is a dark and brooding character on the edge of his nerves. The faded glamour of the casino at Royale-les-Eaux perfectly enhances the ‘dirty business’ of spying and creates a low-lit and moody setting for the tense power play that unfolds across the baccarat table. 

Bond’s mission is to attack the Soviet machine, SMERSH, by bankrupting one of their agents, the avaricious and ruthless man known as Le Chiffre. The two men go head-to-head in a battle of wits but little does Bond know that his enemy holds the trump card all along. The calm elegance of the casino contrasts perfectly with the violent battle between the two men, and the unpredictable charm of luck runs through the heart of both the cards and the game of espionage.

Adapting Casino Royale into a graphic novel is no mean feat. Readers of the original will attest that the thrill of the experience comes as much from the pace of the plot as Fleming’s lively style. The graphic novel as a medium demands that images conjure the atmosphere and that the nuances of character must be shown in expression and language rather than relying solely on description. So, the first challenge of this project was to create a script that would encapsulate the essence of Fleming’s novel without overloading the artwork with too much text.

With this in mind, writer Van Jensen began by selecting Casino Royale’s most crucial scenes and dialogue to construct a comprehensive and accurate script. Alongside this, there would be two further elements to make the project as faithful to the original as possible. The first of these comes directly from Fleming, whose narrative voice presides and his unique turn of phrase is preserved in order to accentuate the actions and atmosphere. For example: ‘Like an octopus under a rock, Le Chiffre watched him from the other side of the table’, or the novel’s famous first line: ‘The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning’. Fleming’s gift for sensual description and characterful attributions to inanimate objects, such as describing playing cards as, ‘inert like two watchful pink crabs’ are key to successfully evoking the spirit of the original.

The second element is what Jensen has coined ‘Bond View’, in which, during the course of a scene, we see Bond’s analytical mind highlighting dangers and commenting on the people, objects and setting around him. These additional captions appear in white text outside of the word balloons, arranged close to their subject in the panel. Again, they take their cues from Fleming, translating Bond’s world-view into a visual form. This includes the quick calculation of risks, the habits and observations of a trained secret agent, and the preferences and opinions of Bond the man.

Of course, all of this rests on top of new original art by Dennis Calero. A master of shadows and dramatic lighting, his style sings to the tense, atmosphere of the novel, and the paranoid and careful life of a spy at work. The moment Bond sets foot in Royale-les-Eaux, he is under scrutiny and in danger, and the visual tone is a constant reminder of this. When combined with colouring by Chris O’Halloran, the book achieves a visceral quality that fits perfectly with Fleming’s Bond. Violence is felt as well as seen, the sensory overload of the casino is palpable, and the narrative crescendos explode into mesmerising spectacle.

The graphic novel of Casino Royale is a faithful adaptation, with a new dimension and fresh energy.  Although the original story was conceived in a very different time for a very different audience, this version aims to transcend the years and deliver the same tension and power that enraptured readers all that time ago.

 

 

Opinion: The Importance Of Colonel Sun

Writer Tom Cull discusses Kingsley Amis’ Colonel Sun, the story behind the novel and its relationship with the film, Spectre.

‘So James, I am going to where you are, the inside of your head.’

So says Ernst Stavro Blofeld in the 2015 film Spectre. He proclaims that he is the architect behind the many ghosts of Bond’s past and if this line echoes for you, then you probably recognise it from the very first James Bond continuation novel, Colonel Sun, written by Sir Kingsley Amis CBE under the not-so-secret pen name of Robert Markham.

In 1968, four years after Ian Fleming’s death, Ian Fleming Publications (then Glidrose) asked Amis if he would be interested in writing a new 007 novel. He was already a popular author and shrewdly – on the commissioners’ part – was known to be a Fleming fan.

Amis understood the high and low art paradoxes that existed in Fleming and the literary snobbery that befell him within some of his social circles. Amis’ own steadfast appreciation of wine and beer; classical music and pop, the Classics and science fiction, motivated him to take time out to write a semi-serious literary criticism of Bond entitled The James Bond Dossier.

‘There’s a whole series of absurd critical judgements on Fleming’s books that need to be set right. Bond has been turned into a lush-living, snobbish, lecherous, sadistic corrupting Fascist… But if you read with care, you will notice for instance, that there is a strong, consistent moral framework to the books: Toughness, loyalty and persistence are the touchstones.’

This, coupled with Amis’ choice to teach Le Carré’s The Spy Who Came In From The Cold to students at Tennessee University demonstrates a lack of genre snobbery on his part. By delving this deeply into Fleming’s oeuvre, he was essentially attending a sort of Bond finishing school for authors. His first official mission would come quickly: Colonel Sun.

What works about Colonel Sun (originally called Dragon Island) – and which is true of the best continuation novels – is that Amis does not overtly impersonate Fleming, fall into pastiche or simply try too hard to match the originator’s style. Amis understood his own limitations in writing Bond as he documented in What Became of Jane Austen and other Questions in 1968. He couldn’t match Fleming for his great knowledge of technical minutiae, but he held detailed knowledge on diverse subjects – Lee Enfield rifles for instance – and more importantly, he understood the ideology of Bond.

You may wonder also if Amis’ own brand of humour worked its way into the novel as Fleming’s did. In part yes, but it is different from Fleming’s. Whereas Fleming’s dialogue often had a sense of the absurd and theatrical, Amis’ conversations have a more conversational rhythm and lightness of touch, seen for instance during Bond and Ariadne’s debate on Capitalism vs. Communism. The character of Litsas offers most of the light relief, as did many of Fleming’s supporting characters, but Bond does not play for laughs.

We also find a lower tech Bond, good with his fists and basic weaponry; Amis’ Bond was for men, not boys. Many of Fleming’s tropes are still there though. He plays golf (at Sunningdale) with Bill Tanner; drives a Bentley; lunches at Scott’s, that sort of thing.

Yet, Amis acknowledged the need to provide the reader with reassuring touch points to avoid any immediate dissonance with a fervent audience. Few of these things Amis did in his private life either:

‘Golf – a game I hope fervently to go to my grave without once having had to play – was there in the first sentence.’

M is given an expanded role and the backdrop is a reassuringly exotic: the Greek Islands. And like all of Fleming’s best novels, we get a brilliantly insidious master villain – the Chinese Colonel Sun Liang-Tan. Kingsley’s son, the novelist Martin Amis approved:

‘Apart from the odd repetition or slightly inept term, the style is excellent. Just like Fleming.’

Paperback book cover for Colonel Sun by Kingsley Amis.

The torture in Colonel Sun is arguably the book’s pièce de résistance. Sun literally gets inside Bond’s head. In the chapter titled ‘The Theory and Practice of Torture’, Bond is strapped to a chair in a cellar and Sun provides Bond with what is almost an education on torture methods.

‘When an American prisoner in Korea was deprived of his eyes, the most astonishing thing happened. He wasn’t there anymore. He’d gone, though he was still alive.’

Readers who felt squeamish during Fleming’s Casino Royale torture scene will certainly want to brace themselves here.

‘So James, I am going to penetrate to where you are, to the inside of your head. We’ll make our first approach via the ear.’

But what caused Amis to station his Chinese super-villain in Greece? For one, Amis was conscious of not re-treading old Fleming ground, so Jamaica and the USA were out. Yet he needed to match Fleming’s expert attention to detail, so a sojourn to the friendly islands of Ios and Naxos gave Amis enough time to gen up on the scenery and local food and drink, to add enough of what he coined ‘The Fleming Effect’. Bond eats manouri cheese; drinks light Mamos retsina and also Votris, the ‘only drinkable’ Greek brandy according to Litsas.

As for choosing a Chinese villain, Amis was again keen to avoid re-hashing any of Fleming’s villains, save perhaps for Dr. No who was Chinese-German, as Amis recanted:

‘Red China as a villain is both new to Bond and obvious in the right kind of way.’

Obvious perhaps, because by 1965 relations were strained between China and the rest of the world – and in particular Russia during the Sino-Soviet split, resulting in border clashes. Amis would have been conscious of this and also of how attitudes in Britain during the ’60s were changing. Another shift from the Fleming formula was to team 007 up with a female Russian agent. A whisper of From Russia with Love but with the notion that the Cold War against the Soviet Union was thawing as Bond suggests to Ariadne:

‘If they’re telling you there that the United States is world enemy number one, they need to catch up on their studies. The Kremlin knows perfectly well that the main threat isn’t the West any more, but the East. Surely that’s not news to you?’

Amis was brave enough to mould his own Bond while paying homage to its creator. With Colonel Sun, he set the benchmark for future continuation novelists and proved that Fleming’s Bond universe does welcome guests.

Tom Cull runs Artistic Licence Renewed. He knew iconic Bond cover artist Richard Chopping well as a child and Tom’s great grandfather hired a young Ian Fleming to work at the family bank Cull & Co. between 1933 and 1935.

Celebrating: The Life Of John Pearson 1930-2021

John Pearson was a longstanding and vital part of Ian Fleming and James Bond’s literary legacy. Ian and John worked together at The Sunday Times, both men learning their craft side-by-side and sharing experiences which would prove vital in later life. When Ian Fleming died in 1964 it fell to John to write what would become for many years the definitive biography: The Life of Ian Fleming. First published in 1966, it was a deeply personal and expansive history of the creator of James Bond. John was able to gain unprecedented access to Ian’s family, friends, colleagues and peers as well as – vitally – drawing from his own friendship with the late author. The resulting book was a success; so successful, in fact, that John later claimed he was able to live in Italy off the back of it.

His work on The Life of Ian Fleming made him the ideal candidate for James Bond: The Authorised Biography. Published in 1973 (after the first Bond continuation novel, Colonel Sun, and before John Gardner’s long run of original 007 novels starting in 1981) this playful book uses the premise that James Bond is a real person, with Ian Fleming’s novels adapting actual events from this agent’s colourful life. It is a loving homage to both Fleming and 007. The journalist Malcolm Muggeridge complimented Pearson’s first novel, calling it “… exciting, wryly funny and perceptive” and perceptive is the ideal word to describe John, whose observations of Fleming and Bond would dismantle some of the myths that had grown up around both whilst further understanding of their entwined identities.

A great chronicler of people, Pearson would go on to write tomes on everyone from Barbara Cartland, the Kray brothers, to Lord Lucan. His chronicle on Lucan would be adapted into a TV mini-series and his Painfully Rich: The Outrageous Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Heirs of J. Paul Getty would form the basis of Ridley Scott’s 2017 movie All the Money in the World.

In 2020, Queen Anne Press partnered with John on Ian Fleming: The Notes, a collection of the research the author compiled whilst researching The Life of Ian Fleming. More than merely a time capsule, this book gives a wonderful insight into John’s writing process, reminding us crucially that there is always a person behind the words one reads on a page.

John died on 13th November 2021 leaving an incredible legacy. Ian Fleming Publications is proud of the work done with John Pearson. He will be sorely missed.

The Writer, The Spy And The Silver Beast: John Gardner’s 007

John Gardner’s first published book was the autobiographical Spin the Bottle (1964), and while he never returned to non-fiction writing, he set out to bring reality, the real world, and a sense of verisimilitude into his work – especially to his fourteen original James Bond novels.

Gardner cited his eleventh Bond novel, 1991’s The Man from Barbarossa, as the best of his 007 adventures. Crucially, this is the story most grounded in then-current events, with Bond thrown into the very timely Middle East conflicts, as well the book correctly anticipating the close of the Cold War. Despite the thrilling, inventive narratives in his stories, Gardner was no fantasist. In his hands, the world’s most famous secret agent fought for Queen and country in a world readers could relate to.

Book cover for The Man From Barbarossa by John Gardner

Having previously worked as both a stage magician and Royal Marine officer amongst other jobs, John Gardner was a hands-on man and it was important to him that the gadgets in his 007 stories be grounded and plausible. In the acknowledgements to 1981’s Licence Renewed Gardner states

“I would like to point out to any unbelievers that all the hardware used by Mr. Bond in this story is genuine. Everything provided by Q Branch and carried by Bond – even the modification to Mr. Bond’s Saab – is obtainable on either the open, or clandestine, markets.”

For his tech research, Gardner spent his own time and money speaking to those in the know and actually getting to handle and experience the equipment on the bleeding edge of covert operations.

“One of the things that he wanted to do right from the word go,” explains John Gardner’s son, Simon, “was to make sure that at least 90% of the gadgets were real and could be obtained.

“At the time he was using a place on South Audley Street called Communication Controls Systems Ltd (CSS) and those were the ones he did a lot of work with. He wanted to show that someone like Bond would have, as he put it, ‘trade craft’. I think he wanted to try and get Bond to become a real person as opposed to this kind of fantasy character: he was trying to bring him back to the reality of espionage. There were a lot of fans who didn’t like that. They simply wanted to see the Bond of the films… He said, if I’m going to do Bond I want to try and do it as much my way as possible, which means that the trade craft has to be right and the gadgets have to be believable. That was his starting point.”

It is the aforementioned Saab that is one of John Gardner’s most famous contributions to the 007 canon. Motoring and James Bond’s licence to drive has always been an essential and beloved part of the adventures and the decision to put him into the Swedish automobile classic turned a lot of heads in 1981. The very first sentence Gardner writes Bond into in Licence Renewed, has him driving the mid-size, four-cylinder car.

“James Bond shifted down into third gear, drifted the Saab 900 Turbo into a tight left-hand turn, clinging to the grass shoulder, then put on a fraction more power to bring the car out of the bend.”

007’s car of choice was named ‘The Silver Beast’ and was of course equipped with special hidden features, such as bulletproof glass, rotating licence plates, tear gas ducts, steel-reinforced bumpers, hidden compartments for handguns, a mobile phone and much more. In the prose, Gardner namedrops CCS as the company who personalised the car for Bond but to further underline that the world of James Bond was now ‘our world’, Saab went ahead and created The Silver Beast themselves. This one-of-a-kind machine made the regional news, with John himself showcasing its bespoke additions.

Not only was this a wonderful marketing opportunity but it spoke to how so many fans of 007 see the character – as aspirational. You may not be taking on globe-trotting missions, but you can drink the drink, wear the suit and now buy the car!  

Gardner was tasked with bridging the gap between an idealised pop culture version of James Bond circa the early 1908s and a readership that was very different to 1953 when Casino Royale was published. In total he would write fourteen original Bond novels, plus two movie novelisations, landing him a spot in the Guinness World Records. “History is moving pretty quickly these days” said Ian Fleming and – like so many situations Bond finds himself in – John Gardner was in the right place at the right time, making him the perfect author for 007 in 1981.