The James Bond Bedside Companion (41 page)

STYLE AND THEMES

T
HUNDERBALL follows the usual Fleming formula developed in LIVE AND LET DIE and perfected in DOCTOR NO. James Bond, after initial incidents, travels to a location hoping to unearth clues to solve the current problem; finds the villain in his base of operations; and ultimately destroys the villain's objective. THUNDERBALL, as discussed in Part One, is based on an original screen treatment by Fleming, Jack Whitfingham, and Kevin McClory; therefore, this novel cannot be attributedto Fleming alone. Some changes
were
made from the original story, but the plot line came from a group effort. But the writing is pure Fleming, and only he could embellish the story as he has done in THUNDER
BALL.

The Fleming Sweep moves as well as ever. Since the plot requires Bond and his colleague Felix Leiter to solve the Thunderball case within a specified time limit, the novel has an exciting urgency. SPECTRE's deadline approaches nearer and nearer as Bond and Leiter, bit by bit, unravel what seem like invisible clues. By the time Bond leads the Manta frogmen in the underwater battle with SPECTRE, the book has reached a rapid and critical pace.

Kingsley Amis claims that THUNDERBALL is the best example of "Fleming Effect." Reading THUNDERBALL gives you a general knowledge of health resorts, the architecture and lifestyles around the Boulevard Haussmann in Paris, underwater technical maneuvering, yachts, food in the Bahamas, Polaris submarines, and emergency medical care for victims who step on sea-egg spines. THUNDERBALL is deliberate and meticulous in its detail, yet extremely readable and entertaining; it is like a textbook with a sense of humor. The underwater sequences are beautifully crafted; the imagery and textures of this favorite among Fleming set-pieces stand out:

Inside, Bond's torch shone everywhere into red eyes that glowed like rubies in the darkness, and there was a soft movement and scuttling. He sprayed the light up and down the fuselage. Everywhere there were octopuses, small ones, but perhaps a hundred of them, weaving on the tips of their tentacles, sliding softly away into protecting shadows, changing their camouflage nervously from brown to a pale phosphorescence that gleamed palely in the patches of darkness. The whole fuselage seemed to be crawling with them, evilly, horribly, and as Bond shone his torch on the roof the sight was even worse. There bumping softly in the slight current, hung the corpse of a crew member. In decomposition, it had risen up from the floor, and octopuses, hanging from it like bats, now let go their hold and shot, jet-propelled, to and fro inside the plane—dreadful, glinting, red-eyed comets that slapped themselves into dark comers and stealthily squeezed themselves into cracks and under seats.

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 17)

This eerie scene, when Bond and Leiter finally locate the sunken Vindicator NATO aircraft, contains some of Fleming's more chilling images.

The gambling
theme
is very strong in THUNDERBALL. In fact, Operation Thunderball is solved entirely on
hunches
made by Bond and Leiter. They walk blindly into the situation: Bond, after obtaining information from the customs office, assumes his only hope of finding the SPECTRE agents in the Bahamas is by checking out any suspicious newcomers to the area. Largo, with his treasure hunt, is a prime suspect; and by chance, Bond finds Largo's mistress, the elusive Domino. After speculations atop coincidences in almost every sequence, Bond and Leiter point the finger at Largo; but they realize there is no concrete evidence. Even at the end of the novel, as the Manta pursues the
Disco Volante,
their only hope is that Largo's men can be caught red-handed transporting the bombs. Their gamble pays off, of course, but not without a little help from Domino.

Bond's philosophy on luck is repeated before he wipes out Largo at
chemin de fer.
"Luck," he tells himself, "is strictly for the birds." Yet it is pure luck that enables Bond to solve the case of Operation Thunderball.

The friendship theme is also very strong. The union between Bond and Leiter is the tightest it has ever been. It seems all they want to do is drink each other under the table after gorging themselves with meals. 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 Leiter, is an uplifting moment.

CHARACTERS

J
ames Bond continues to develop in THUNDERBALL. Two more scenes at Bond's flat are included, as well as a humorous sequence involving his housekeeper May. Bond's sense of humor seems sharper, and, in the moments when he is feeling good, he is remarkably pleasant. (Quite a change from the cold, ruthless man he is in CASINO ROYALE.) Bond has also developed a particular saying, which must have been a habitual phrase used by Fleming: "So that's the score!" It is one of Bond's most oft-used expressions.

As mentioned before, Bond, in THUNDERBALL and the following books, is more aware of his own mortality. At the beginning of the story he is very unfit, and is ordered to "dry out" at a health resort. Bond reflects Fleming's own penchant for living to excess and the results are showing. The story opens with Bond, plagued by a terrible hangover, attempting to shave. He cuts himself and blames it on his dull job at the office (there have been no exciting assignments in months). But the situation is worse than he realizes: M humiliates Bond by reading aloud the medical report from the agent's last physical:

"This officer," he read, "remains basically physically sound. Unfortunately his mode of life is not such as is likely to allow him to remain in this happy state. Despite many previous warnings, he admits to smoking sixty cigarettes a day. These are of a Balkan mixture with a higher nicotine content than the cheaper varieties. When not engaged upon strenuous duty, the officer's average daily consumption of alcohol is in the region of half a bottle of spirits of between sixty and seventy proof. On examination, there continues to be little definite sign of deterioration. The tongue is furred. The blood pressure a little raised at 160/90. The liver is not palpable. On the other hand, when pressed, the officer admits to frequent occipital headaches and there is spasm in the trapezius muscles and so-called "fibrositis" nodules can be felt I believe these symptoms to be due to this officer's mode of life. He is not responsive to the suggestion that over-indulgence is no remedy for the tensions inherent in his professional calling and can only result in the creation of a toxic state which could finally have the effect of reducing his fitness as an officer. I recommend that No. 007 should take it easy for two to three weeks on a more abstemious regime, when I believe he would make a complete return to his previous exceptionally high state of physical finess."

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 1)

The medical report's forecast is proven correct, for when Bond leaves the Shrublands health clinic a few weeks later, he feels "better than he ever has before." As a result, Bond's good humor and cheerfulness are obnoxious to everyone around him. Loelia Ponsonby becomes irritated that he arrives early in the morning and leaves the office late, supplying her with more work. May, the housekeeper, tut-tuts and nags Bond that the food he is eating since leaving Shrublands will kill him. To this, Bond has a surprising response:

In the old days, James Bond would have told May to go to hell and leave him in peace. Now, with infinite patience and good humor, he gave May a quick run through the basic tenets of "live" as against "dead" foods. "You see, May," he said reasonably, "all these denaturized foods—white flour, white sugar, white rice, white salts, whites of egg—these are dead foods. Either they're dead anyway like whites of egg or they've had all the nourishment refined out of them. They're slow poisons, like fried foods and cakes and coffee and heaven knows how many of the things I used to eat. And anyway, look how wonderfully
well I am. I feel abso
lutely a new man since I took to eating the right things and gave up drink and so on. I sleep twice as well. I've got twice as much energy. No headaches. No muscle pains. No hangovers. Why, a month ago there wasn't a week went by but that on at least one day I couldn't eat anything for breakfast but a couple of aspirins and a prairie oyster. And you know quite well that that used to make you cluck and tut-tut all over the place like an old hen. Well"—Bond raised his eyebrows amiably—"what about that?"

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 7)

But, as usual, at the end of the novel Bond is wounded, exhausted, and sick from his ordeal. Ending up at the hospital (again), he slumps next to Domino's sickbed and falls asleep—his battered body beginning its familiar slow recuperation for its next bout of punishment.

Additionally, more is revealed about Bond's attitudes toward women. He is especially flirtatious with Domino:

She was getting friendly. "I expect you'll have the same effect on the old women with pincenez and blue rinses."

"Do they eat boiled vegetables for lunch?"

"Yes, and they drink carrot juice and prune juice."

"We won't get on, then. I won't sink lower than conch chowder."

She looked at him curiously. "You seem to know a lot about Nassau."

"You mean about conch being an aphrodisiac? That's not only a Nassau idea. It's all over the world where there are conchs."

"Is it true?"

"Island people have it on their wedding night. I haven't found it to have any effect on me."

"Why?" She looked mischievous. "Are you married?"

"No." Bond smiled across into her eyes. "Are you?"

"Then we might both try some conch soup some time and see what happens."

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 11)

But, the hardened Bond does not disappear altogether. When the time comes for Bond to inform Domino that her brother is dead, she blames him. Bond says in a "cold, matter-of-fact voice" that it was Largo who killed her brother. Bond still puts up a wall to hide his emotions.

During his scenes with Domino, Bond seems to be reaching for something he has never had (something he
might
have had with Vesper Lynd); perhaps Bond
is searching for a true love this time. He appears to be weary of his age-old pattern of going through women like assignments.

Felix Leiter has a larger role in THUNDERBALL than he has had thus far in the series. This time, Leiter has been drafted back into the CIA because of the urgency of Operation Thunderball. Allen Dulles (CIA chief) knows that Leiter and Bond work well together, so the Texan has been assigned to the Bahamas territory. Bond and Leiter constantly kid each other. For example, in the following scene, 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."

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 14)

Leiter doesn't seem to have any bitterness about the loss of his right hand and leg. Toward the end of the book, 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."

(THUNDERBALL, Chapter 22)

Domino Vitali is probably the most appealing heroine since Tatiana Romanova. Bond, to himself, calls her a bitch on first encountering her, but he certainly falls for her the next time he sees the girl. Despite his negative feelings about women drivers, Bond thinks Domino "drives like a man." She takes a "man's pleasure in the feel of her machine." Bond believes she has a "gay, to-hell-with-you face that would become animal in passion." Domino has soft charcoal slits for eyes and a proud, sensual mouth. She has a determined chin and a jaw line with "royal command"—Domino holds herself with self-righteous authority. Bond compares her to a "beautiful Arab mare who would only allow herself to be ridden by a horseman with steel thighs and velvet hands—and then only when he had broken her to bridle and saddle."