Of human Bond age

The latest James Bond novel, from Sebastian Faulks writing as Ian Fleming, is a pastiche of characters and stories from time past, writes Sidharth Bhatia

Devil May Care
Sebastian Faulks
Penguin
304 pages
Rs395

Bond, James Bond — we all know who he is. The dashing spy with the 007 badge, which allows him the licence to kill (though who gave him the licence? And why should other governments allow him to kill on their soil?). Anyway, by now we know his likes and dislikes: vodka martinis, shaken not stirred, his Walther PPK gun, and his love for dangerous women. It is all one big cliché, albeit a well liked one.

But in truth, there are many Bonds. There is the one created by Ian Fleming, who saw him as a slightly ruthless, if flamboyant character, imbuing him with many qualities of the true English gentleman — right club, Navy affiliations, bespoke tailor, love for fine wines and that kind of thing, wouldn’t you know old chap. Fair play is obviously not one of those attributes, because in the name of Her Majesty, he is not above doing the dirty on occasion. As for his attitude towards women —quite old fashioned. This Bond is frozen in the books written by Ian Fleming at a time when the British Empire was still a fresh memory and the world needed rescuing by an Englishman (though Sean Connery was a Scot.) However, credit must be given to Fleming for forecasting the appearance of non-state actors —such as the terror group SMERSH — as major players in international politics.

The other Bond is the one in the movies. Each one has been different from the other in subtle but significant ways. Sean Connery stayed true to the books, bringing a mean edge to the charm. He was badly behaved towards women, even knocking them about and used his bare hands to kill. Humour, for him, was to be used occasionally, unlike in the case of Roger Moore, who played Bond like a cartoon character, with a perpetually raised eyebrow. In between came George Lazenby, the world’s most hated screen Bond, not the least because he directly followed Connery. In retrospect, Lazenby is not that bad, but no Bond fan ever discuss him. 

Each actor has played him according to his own interpretation, with the general opinion being that Daniel Craig is the worthiest new screen Bond. But it is important to also note that the films have kept pace with the changing world — the collapse of the Soviet Union, the emergence of new villains like media barons, the North Koreans, and so on.
Which is why it is somewhat surprising that Sebastian Faulks, the latest author writing in the name of Ian Fleming, has chosen to go back to the 1960s in his recreation of the Bond fable when he could have easily set it in the contemporary world. The Sputnik, the hippie culture, the Beatles are all in the background as Bond tackles a villain out to destroy Britain and flood the world with drugs. Verily, this is Austin Powers in reverse.

Faulks, who is no mean writer, has chosen to play it extremely safe. Everyone — from the villain to the girl to the plot — is a pastiche of characters and stories of time past. The villain cheats at sport (Goldfinger), he has a rare deformity (Le Chiffre, Scaramanga) his sidekick is an expressionless Oriental (Oddjob), and so on. The villain’s lair is the usual large hangar with an amphibious craft and lots of platforms (untold number of films) and Bond has to swim underwater (Thunderball, et al) to get there. Now where have we seen all this before? Clearly, a movie script is already being planned.

This is a pity, because with Casino Royale, after a long time a James Bond flick eschewed all the comic book tomfoolery which had become a hallmark of the Moore films. Just when we had begun to look forward to more Craig as an antidote to the pretty and angst-driven Pierce Brosnan, comes along Faulks’ Bond who, unhappily, appears a bit clueless, allowing the villain to get all the best lines. Even the girl bests him in a few scenes; our hero for the most part is literally thrashing his limbs around. And sorry for this spoiler, but there is no Q in this either. 

It is an enjoyable book, make no mistake and the formula is down pat; but that’s about it. But this reviewer for one couldn’t picture Connery or Craig in the lead role and that can only mean this is a lifeless, soulless Bond. This one is best left to Brosnan. The rest of us diehard Bond lovers will wait for Quantum Of Solace which will once again bring back the genuine article.

sidharth01@dnaindia.net