The James Bond Bedside Companion (26 page)

(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 4)

And a little later in the novel, we learn Bond's overall feelings concerning affairs:

With most women his manner was a mixture of taciturnity and passion. The lengthy approaches to a seduction bored him almost as much as the subsequent mess of disentanglement. He found something grisly in the inevitability of the pattern of each affair. The conventional parabola—sentiment, the touch of the hand, the kiss, the passionate kiss, the feel of the body, the climax in the bed, then more bed, then less bed, then the boredom, the tears, and the final bitterness—was to him shameful and hypocritical. Even more he shunned the mise-en-scene for each of these acts in the play—the meeting at the party, the restaurant, the taxi, his fiat, her flat, then the week-end by the sea, then the flats again, then the furtive alibis and the final angry farewell on some doorstep in the rain.

(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 22)

When it comes to the subject of marriage, Bond tells Tiffany Case that "most marriages don't add two people together. They subtract one from the other." She asks him what sort of woman he would marry.

He lit a cigarette thoughtfully. "Somebody who can make Sauce Béarnaise as well as love," he said.

"Holy mackerel! Just any old dumb hag who can cook and he on her back?"

"Oh no. She's got to have all the usual things—" Bond
examined her. "Gold hair. Grey eyes. A sinful mouth. Perfect figure. And of course she's got to be witty and poised and know how to dress and play cards and so forth. The usual things."

"And you'd marry this person if you found her?"

"Not necessarily," said Bond. "Matter of fact, I'm almost married already. To a man. Name begins with M. I'd have to divorce him before I tried marrying a woman. And I'm not sure I'd want to do that. She'd get me handing round canapes in an L-shaped drawing-room. And there'd be all those ghastly, 'Yes you did. No I didn't' rows that seem to go with marriage. It wouldn't last. I'd get claustrophobia and run out on her. Get myself sent to Japan or somewhere."

"What about children?"

"Like to have some," said Bond shortly, "But only when I retire. Not fair to the children otherwise. My job's not all that secure."

(DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER, Chapter 22)

Once, while at a social party in Nassau, Bond makes the remark that if he married, he would want an airline hostess. His friend, the Governor, asks him why.

"Oh, I don't know. It would be fine to have a pretty girl always tucking you up and bringing you drinks and hot meals and asking if you had everything you wanted. And they're always smiling and wanting to please. If I don't find an air hostess, there'll be nothing for it but marry a Japanese. They seem to have the right ideas too." Bond had no intention of marrying anyone. If he did, it would certainly not be an insipid slave. He only hoped to amuse or outrage the Governor into a discussion of some human topic.

("Quantum of Solace," FOR YOUR EYES ONLY)

As the series progresses, Fleming reveals more details concerning Bond and his women. For example, on one-night stands:

Bond had taken her to the station and had kissed her once hard on the lips and had gone away. It hadn't been love, but a quotation had come into Bond's mind as his cab moved out of Pennsylvania Station: "Some love is fire, some love is rust. But the finest, cleanest love is lust." Neither had had regrets. Had they committed a sin? If so, which one? A sin against chastity? Bond smiled to himself. There was a quotation for that too, and from a saint—Saint Augustine: "Oh Lord, give me Chastity. But don't give it yet!"

(GOLDFINGER, Chapter 5)

And once, Bond daydreams what it would be like playing the field in Heaven:

There must be a whole lot of them, going up together. Would Tilly be on the same trip? Bond squirmed with embarrassment. How would he introduce her to the others, to Vesper for instance? And when it came to the point, which would he like the best? But perhaps it would be a big place with countries and towns. There was probably no more reason why he should run into one of his former girlfriends here than there had been on earth. But still there were a lot of people he'd better avoid until he got settled in and found out the form. Perhaps, with so much love about, these things wouldn't matter. Perhaps one just loved all the girls one met Hm. Tricky business!

(GOLDFINGER, Chapter 16)

Concerning homosexuality:

Bond came to the conclusion that Tilly Masterson was one of those girls whose hormones had got mixed up. He knew the type well and thought they and their male counterparts were a direct consequence of giving votes to women and "sex equality." As a result of fifty years of emancipation, feminine qualities were dying out or being transferred to the males. Pansies of both sexes were everywhere, not yet completely homosexual, but confused, not knowing what they were. The result was a herd of unhappy sexual misfits—barren and full of frustrations, the women wanting to dominate and the men to be nannied. He was sorry for them, but he had no time for them.

(
GOLDFFINGER, Chapter 19)

Concerning women drivers:

Women are often meticulous and safe drivers, but they are very seldom first-class. In general Bond regarded them as a mild hazard and he always gave them plenty of road and was ready for the unpredictable. Four women in a car he regarded as the highest danger potential, and two women as nearly as lethal. Women together cannot keep silent in a car, and when women talk they have to look into each other's faces. An exchange of words is not enough. They have to see the other person's expression, perhaps in order to read behind the other's words or to analyze the reaction to their own. So two women in the front seat of a car constantly distract each other's attention from the road ahead and four women are more than doubly dangerous, for the driver has to hear, and see, not only what her companion is saying but also, for women are like that, what the two behind are talking about.

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 11)

One must also examine, when studying Bond's attitudes toward women, the opposite point of view as well. It is important to emphasize here that women characters find James Bond sexually attractive. Period.

James Bond is a handsome and virile specimen of the human race. He has a sexual persona strong enough to turn the most diehard lesbian, such as
Pussy
Galore, into a heterosexual. This perhaps takes the point to the extreme, but the message is clear: James Bond represents an ultimate male sexual fantasy figure for women. This is obvious in the following excerpt:

Ariadne studied Bond's profile. As always, her employers' instructions had been confined to essentials. She had been told only to induce the Englishman to go with her to a designated area where fellow-workers would take over the operation from her. What would happen to him afterwards was no concern of hers—officially. But, more and more, the question bothered her as a woman, a woman who had learnt to recognize on sight the kind of man who knew how to love. Bond was such a man. She was certain, too, that he found her desirable. She had always been a loyal servant of her cause, and not for a moment did she seriously contemplate disobeying orders, allowing Bond to take her home after dinner and do with her whatever he wanted. Anadne only wished, passionately, that it had been possible. That mouth was made to give her brutal kisses, not to become distorted in a grimace of agony; those hands existed to caress her body, not to be stamped on by the torturer's boot. These images were so painfully vivid that she could find almost nothing to say as the taxi approached the slopes of the Acropolis.

(COLONEL SUN, Chapter 6)

Of course, one cannot take the sexual conduct of the Bond novels too seriously—the books
are
fantasies. Criticizing what may seem like an overindulgence in sexual frivolity would destroy the erotic fantasy of the stories. And that is a key element in the success of the James Bond character, as well as the series as a whole.

J
ames Bond lives his life as best he can without looking back. To dwell in the past only creates cavities in the soul. Because he believes, when he's depressed, that he will not live past the age of forty-five, Bond tackles each day with a mania for experiencing whatever sensations it might offer. For a man surrounded by so much cold-hearted death, Bond loves life. He thrives on the adventure his assignments bring. Danger is a drug that stimulates Bond—his mind is clearest when his life is threatened. The worst disease a man can catch, according to both Bond and Fleming, is boredom. He dreads what he calls "the Soft Life." Once, while attempting to shake himself out of one of these particular periods which attack him every so often, Bond recalls a quotation from somewhere: "Those whom the Gods wish to destroy, they first make bored." Bond has undergone much physical pain in his time: having his testicles battered with a carpet beater; feeling the little finger of his left hand pulled back slowly until it snaps; wincing as a blowtorch scorches the side of his face; collapsing while being kicked by two men wearing heavy boots; crawling through a torture-infested obstacle course; and feeling the orifices of his head probed by thin wires—but nothing is as painful to Bond as ennui.

Therefore, Bond lives his life to the fullest. And he takes it seriously—the early James Bond is as humorless as a statue. Only in the later
novels
did Fleming imbue his character with a sense of humor. Perhaps Fleming had been influenced by the direction the character in the films was going. The Bond of the twelfth novel, YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, is much like the stoical, nonchalant characterization of Sean Connery.

This attitude of thriving on and devouring life's experiences is the most important element in James Bond's character. It is the basis for the success of all the appealing ingredients of the novels—it allows for a fantasy life to be fully realized. There is a subtle but revealing moment in ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE when the eccentric Griffon Or at the College of Arms suggests that James Bond is a descendent of Sir Thomas Bond of Bond Street. Bond dismisses the ridiculous notion, but does decide to adopt the Bond family motto: "The World is Not Enough."

This chart is based on one by Kingsley Amis appearing in
The James Bond Dossier
, published by Jonathan Cape, Lt
d
.
 
I have updated it and substituted my own "highlights" and "remarks." (Used by permission of Jonathan Clowes, Ltd., London, on behalf of Kingsley Amis.

All of the novels and stories shown are by Ian Fleming except COLONEL SUN (by Robert Markham), and the latter seven titles (all by John Gardner) – R.B.