Dr. Wesley Britton is the author of three books on fictional espionage for Praeger Publishers. His fourth, The Encyclopedia of TV Spies, will be published by Bear Manor Media later this year. Many of his interviews, articles, and reviews are posted at his website. Whilst you're there take a look at this page and this page. No particular reason, you just might find them interesting...

A DOUBLE SHOT OF 007: DEVIL MAY CARE MEETS THE MONEYPENNY DIARIES

By Wesley Britton

Back in 1966, author Leslie Charteris claimed he worried about issuing new editions of his Saint books capitalizing on the growing fame of Roger Moore whose picture would adorn the new paperbacks. In his “Forward” to a new edition of Alias The Saint (Hodder & Stoughton, April 1931), Charteris wondered if he should update the old tales. He admitted the archaic telecommunications and transportation technologies in the Saint's early adventures had changed significantly. In a similar “Foreword” to the 1965 edition of Saint Overboard (Hodder & Stoughton, January 1936), Charteris said his Jules Verne-like machines used by mad scientists were outdated as quickly as the books went to print, making his futuristic aqualungs and bathyspheres commonplace and uninteresting thirty years later. So Charteris said he was reluctant to bring out new editions thinking readers would be better served by new books with new settings and new topical references.

After his editors assured him new readers would want to back track through the years and see how the Saint had evolved, Charteris claimed he changed his mind. In the various apologies opening his mid-1960s editions, Charteris said many readers should simply see his novels as historical fiction. After all, how could he alter the adventures of yesteryear satisfactorily, he wondered, and how often would the updatings need updating themselves? Would the Sherlock Holmes stories be as durable if they had been translated from the idiom of Hansom cabs to Texas to helicopters to a jet-powered anti-gravity belt? Perhaps our tastes have grown more subtle, he speculated, our monsters darker, and our panoramas larger ¹ .

Fifteen years later, such concerns would have much to do with the legacy of Ian Fleming. But, at exactly the same time Charteris was pondering what to do with his Saint books, different questions were being posed regarding the future of the literary James Bond. The central question was not yet how to update 007 but rather whether or not anyone could pick up the mantle of Ian Fleming after his death in August 1964. Ironically, the first thoughts on a continuation writer began when British journalist John Pearson began his research for his biography, The Life of Ian Fleming (1966). One of Fleming's former colleagues who Pearson contacted was thriller writer Geoffrey Jenkins who'd worked with Fleming at the Sunday Times . Responding to Pearson's query, Jenkins said that back in 1957, “ I tried very hard to get him to come out to South Africa to write a James Bond set in this country. Twice he nearly came. I wrote him the outline of a plot which he thought had great possibilities . . . bringing in a secret/spy escape route through a magic lake named Fundudzi in the Northern Transvaal , towards Mozambique.”² Following the lead Jenkins provided, Pearson found the outline in Fleming's files with handwritten notes on it, indicating James Bond's creator liked the idea and pondered writing a novel based on it. Pearson returned the outline to Jenkins and proposed that Jenkins—whom Fleming had favorably reviewed several times—be commissioned to finish the tale himself.

Both Glidrose—the company responsible for the Bond books—and Harry Saltzman of EON Productions were interested in the project. As a result, Glidrose contracted the now lost Per Fine Ounce manuscript. It would have been a continuation story for which Fleming had shown interest and contributed notes for how the South African story could have been developed. But other forces were in play. Writer Ron Payne noted, “Anne Fleming, Ian's widow, had some reservations about copyright problems if a continuation novelist were brought in. . . The novel, which would have taken 007 to South Africa, would have dealt with gold smugglers in much the same way Diamonds Are Forever dealt with the diamond pipeline.”³ However, Per Fine Ounce was rejected for the simple reason that another voice on Glidrose's editorial board—namely Peter Fleming-- preferred the next writer be Kingsley Amis and thus we got Colonel Sun .

Very quickly, it was publicly evident Ian Fleming's widow wasn't the only reader to be disappointed by Colonel Sun. But she was the one with the power to say there would be no further non-Fleming Bond titles. Before her death in 1981, there were only two exceptions. Again in 1966 , Bulgarian novelist Andrei Gulyashki was hired by a Soviet press to create a Communist agent to stand against James Bond because of Russian fears that 007 was an effective propaganda tool for the West. In 1966, the full-length The Zakhov Mission appeared in Russia before the English version was released in 1968 in a translation by Maurice Michael. Publicity for it rivaled that for Colonel Sun. If Gulyashki had had his way, 07 (they couldn't use the double-o for copyright reasons) would have ended his literary life trading barbs and fists atop a speeding train with his Soviet nemesis.

Five years later, Glidrose made a second attempt to issue a license to thrill using the official 007 logo. In August 1973, it was John Pearson who was commissioned to write the fictional James Bond: The Authorized Biography of 007. More a “pre-quel” than continuation novel, Pearson used clues and cues from the Fleming books to describe the early years of James Bond. Again, the issue wasn't “updating” the character, but rather an attempt to describe the formative years before Casino Royale.

Almost a decade went by before Glidrose wondered if there was a way to, like the films, bring James Bond into the 1980s. The questions Leslie Charteris had once posed about the Saint were now center stage. After all, the 1979 film of Moonraker had to greatly depart from the original 1955 Fleming novel because, as Charteris had pointed out, old technology wasn't as interesting decades after it had lost its cutting edge. After Anne Fleming's death in 1981, the same year Roger Moore's 007 came down to earth in For Your Eyes Only, John Gardner's License Renewed launched the new series of Bond adventures. For 15 years, Gardner kept the literary flame alive with the understanding that his books should reflect contemporary events and changes in technology. But 007 himself was frozen in time just as in the films. This didn't change when Gardner , in his turn, handed on the legacy to Raymond Benson. In an interview with John Cox, Benson later recalled that at the beginning of his contract in 1995, important questions had been raised about the continuation of an aging secret agent in commercial literature. "In the end," Benson said, "it was decided that we should stay in sync with the films and keep Bond updated. I was also told that I should do my best to blend elements of the original literary Bond with elements of the more widely known cinematic Bond. Thus, there had to be more action than what was in Fleming's books, more gadgetry, a little more humor." ⁴ Ironically, Benson concluded his interview by echoing the words of Leslie Charteris in 1966—James Bond, like Sherlock Holmes, worked best in the era that had shaped him. This would never happen in the films, Benson observed, but perhaps a new novelist would return 007 to his roots.

So it was more than appropriate that, for the Ian Fleming Centenary celebrations this year (2008), that Sebastian Faulks wrote what amounts to the first continuation novel, first, that is, in the chronological placement of the story and not the year of publication. Which places the book in an interesting position—not only will Devil May Care necessarily be compared with the original Ian Fleming saga, but also all the continuation novels that both preceded and followed it. Perhaps the most important question is--will Devil May Care, unlike most of its non-Fleming predecessors, become a book that survives after the world-wide publicity dies down? Will Devil May Care enjoy a legacy as being memorable fiction on its own merits or will it join the shelf of largely disposable titles of minimal interest beyond the ranks of 007 devotees?

First, placing James Bond back in the 1960s is both a blessing and a curse. The strengths of Devil May Care focus on the return to a human Bond questioning himself, his drive to continue, and even his sexual appetite. In the opening pages, Faulks makes it clear this is Fleming's Bond recovering from the death of his wife, his torture in Japan , his brainwashing in Russia , and his first rehabilitative mission tracking down the man with the golden gun. In one vivid scene, Fauks describes the state of his 007:

“He stood naked in front of the mirror and looked into his face, with a distaste he made no attempt to soften. `You're tired,' he said out loud. `You're played out. Finished.' His torso and arms bore a network of scars, small and large, that traced a history of his violent life. There was the slight displacement of his spine to the left where he had fallen from a train in Hungary , the skin graft on the back of the left hand. Every square inch of trunk and limb seemed to contribute to the story. But he knew that it was what was in his head that counted.

That was what M had told him. `You've been through a lot, James. Much more than any human being should. If you were a normal man—even if you were another double-O—I'd just move you on. Put you on a desk job. But because it's you, James, I'm going to let that decision come from you. Take three months' sabbatical, full pay, then come and tell me what you've decided.'"

While considering this choice, Fauks's Bond is already seeing himself disconnected from his time as he witnesses long-haired youths on the streets listening to new bands like the Rolling Stones. (One presumes he wasn't paying attention to much popular entertainment—after all, 1965 was “The Year of the Spy” with TV screens full of The Avengers, Danger Man, and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. A little film called Thunderball was in the pipeline and some actor named Roger Moore could be seen on covers of paperbacks about some character called Simon Templar.) After turning down an advance from a nubile stranger, Bond is certain it's time to quit. But, once again, 007 learns the choice was never really his to make—009 is dead, there's some new 004 who isn't ready to go it alone yet, and Her Majesty's Government needs him once again. In short, a very intriguing set-up for the next story in the epic.

But all the introspection and dwelling on which way to go in this fork in the road are only seen in the early chapters before Bond's mission begins. From that point on, especially in the first third of the book, one is reminded of how many Bondian situations have now become clichés in books ranging from the likes of Clive Cussler to Tom Clancy. New technological marvels aside, for example, within minutes of his leaving M's office, Bond is pursued by two assassins on motorbikes. When haven't we seen this before? Worse, the scene is pointlessly gratuitous. True, there'd been no action since the opening scene when a killer takes out a drug runner in Paris , and many chapters would follow with little in the way of Bond requiring either brawn or gun-sights. It's as if Faulks had a check-list to consult as he went through his manuscript—bring in Rene Mathis, Felix Leiter, bring in new buddies destined for a bullet, don't forget to describe every meal and, of course, have a villain that cheats at his sport of choice, in this case, Dr. Julius Gorner's obsession with winning tennis matches. Along the way, don't forget to remind the reader this is 1965. Bond has to find phone booths to call London and his “gadgets” are make-shift, as in the glass-shards he carries in his mouth. Oil isn't yet the Macguffin it would become, but rather heroin trafficking setting up a war on England as Julius Gorner frankly hates the British.

In some cases, getting in those nods to Fleming were simply clumsy inserts. After a series of chapters in which Bond is essentially a tourist in quirky locales, he meets his contact in Tehran , Darius Alizadeh. Bond asks what he knows about Dr. Gorner, but Darius insists on sharing his autobiography first. Well, Fleming gave us many memorable sketches of friends and foes alike, and many in the first person. Here, the few paragraphs are obviously contrived to get in some character background that could have been provided without the clunky and rushed break in the dialogue. (I wonder if some writer will someday find a fresh adverb to describe a woman crossing her legs other than “demurely.” Faulks uses the term three times. A minor note, true enough, but a reflection of the use of clichés in the book.)

This isn't to say Fauks doesn't get in some nice turns of phrase. When Bond discovers he would never have found Gorner's headquarters without help, he observes: “The mountain had not come to Mohammed, but Mohammed, it seemed, was being airlifted to the mountain.” In fact, once the story kicks in after Bond locates the air-ship that transports drugs from Persia to Russia , Devil May Care becomes a first-class Cold War thriller. The pace quickens, the scope widens (including a CIA officer determined to force the British to join the Yanks in Vietnam ), and all the expected plot points fit snugly in place. Still, without providing any spoilers here, few readers will miss the telegraphed clues about the identity of a certain main character. Like an old-fashioned mystery story, Bond recites the list of these rather obvious incidents in the denouement, but, unlike most detectives of stage and screen, he'd missed most of them until the final reveal.

So is Devil May Care worthy of a first read? Yes, for anyone into straight-forward thrillers. For Bond fans, the book is also like one of those pictures of a forest with hidden faces in the leaves. Ah, Dr. Julius Gorner has a monkey paw for a hand—that's like Dr. Julius No's mechanical hands. Unsophisticated locals think a strange new machine is a demon—again, like Dr. No's dragon in the marshes. It's like watching Die Another Day for the first time—what are the homage's to past Bonds up on the screen, some subtle, some overt?

As to any staying power, I admit I rather doubt much interest will continue once the initial burst of enthusiasm fizzles. Like any thriller, once the plot has unfolded, what can the reader return to to renew the excitement of the original sense of discovery? In the case of Ian Fleming, despite his detractors, it was the literary merits that gave vitality and verisimilitude to his better yarns. He gave us characters like Honey Rider who made as striking an entrance on the printed page as she did onscreen. The lengthy introduction of Red Grant and the schemes of Smersh in From Russia With Love help make that novel as memorable as any spy story in history. Yes, all these years later, like “The Saint” books, the Fleming novels are historical fiction, and they breathe with the contexts and flavors of the time they were crafted in. Devil May Care? It's historical fiction well enough, with nods to contemporary interests, most notably present concerns over what Persia has become in the nation of Iran ⁵. But like Amis, Gardner, and Benson, there's nothing new in Devil May Care—every character owes something to a previous Fleming favorite, every setting and situation has been reworked too many times for there to be any possible hint of originality. Of course, that wasn't Faulks's purpose—but rather to draft a book as much like Fleming as possible. Well, he's no Ian Fleming—but Devil May Care is perhaps the best fictional tribute to him currently on book shelves. That's not a bad thing—and perhaps a hard act to follow.

But, as it happens, Sebastian Faulks wasn't the first writer to return 007 to the 1960s this year. In 2005, in fact, Samantha Weinberg—using the pseudonym of Kate Westbrook, supposedly the niece of M's long-time secretary--published the first in a series of James Bond spin-off stories in the U.K. Collectively called The Moneypenny Diaries two of her novels and two short stories have appeared in England, with the third scheduled for publication in July. But not until May 2008, two weeks before Devil May Care, did the first of these show up on American bookshelves. The British The Moneypenny Diaries: Guardian Angel, titled simply The Moneypenny Diaries in the States, is set from January to December 1962, alleging to be Miss Jane Vivien Moneypenny's first-person chronicle of the events in the lives of Bond, Moneypenny, and their circle after the death of Tracy Bond in On Her Majesty's Secret Service through Bond's disappearance after the death of Ernst Stavro Blofeld in You Only Live Twice.

Like Faulks' Bond, Westbrook's 007 first appears as a grieving, psychologically wounded agent, but for the first two-thirds of the account, Bond is essentially a supporting character. Outside M's office, 006, 009, and 007 come and go in equal measure and Moneypenny spends as much time talking with fellow secretaries as the chiefs behind their closed doors. By design, the novel is a fragmented read, largely to help provide the illusion the diaries are real. Roughly one-third of the book is diary entries, one-third footnotes, and the remaining text is Westbrook's paragraphs regarding her “investigations” into her aunt's history. The footnotes, two or three on virtually every page, give details about actual espionage lore, recap nearly every character and situation in the Bond novels, or blend fact and fiction to, again, lend credibility to the entries. Much of the text is about Jane Moneypenny's back-story, her hopes for discovering the fate of her missing father, and the attempts by Russian agents to lure her into betraying the Secret Service in exchange for information about her father's fate.

This isn't to say James Bond doesn't play a major part in the proceedings. Ironically, while Sebastian Faulks never clarified the meaning of his book's title—a Flemingesque touch to be sure—Westbrook gives us Moneypenny's take on the phrase:

“ I know 007 is a professional flirt, but I have always had a soft spot for him. He is not a man to lose one's heart to - though it is not hard to imagine how one could. He is tough on the outside, but I've always thought surprisingly vulnerable within. He's funny too, the original Devil-May-Care with the emphasis on the Devil. I look forward to our irreverent banter and the occasional illicit swirl around my office. There has never been a married 00 agent; I am not sure M would countenance it. He has enough problems with girlfriends 'hanging on to one's gun arm'; surely a wife would jam the magazine altogether? But 007 with a desk job? He wouldn't last the week.”⁶

This isn't exactly a Moneypenny pining away for the affections of 007—she has her own love affair with a man called “R” who behaves more than suspiciously from beginning to end. Rather, much like her boss, she's worried about a Bond who has nightmares and nearly falls apart in his mourning for his wife. In one passage, Bond tells Moneypenny:

“You know, for the very first time, I was prepared to give all this up for her. I'd have tried not to, of course, but if it came to it, and I had a straight choice, I would have chosen Tracy . I love the job, of course I do, but one can't keep on living like a cowboy for ever. I looked into her lifeless eyes and saw a whole damn funeral procession of people I've killed, starting with that Japanese cipher expert in New York, then the Norwegian double agent, half a handful of Mr. Big's hoodlums in Harlem and Florida and a score more, including the big man himself, when the boat blew up in Jamaica, right on through to Blofeld's apes on top of that bloody mountain. I've lost count, and that's only the ones I've had a direct hand in. How about Vesper Lynd? Or Jill Masterton? Or Shaun Campbell? I surely signed his death warrant as shot him myself. What's the difference between me killing them and them killing Tracy ? It's all part of the same game.”

We do get flashes of humor, as in Bond's squirming when he has to sit on a review board looking into the defections of “Cambridge Spy Ring” members Guy Burgess and Donald McLean. Moneypenny has to intervene when Sable Basilisk from the College of Arms contacted the service after receiving calls from a girl named Ruby Windsor, one of Bond's conquests at Blofeld's Piz Gloria in OHMSS. Claiming to be “practically engaged” to “Sir Hillery,” Ruby, like many others before her, wants her man. Moneypenny, with considerable bemusement, has to pretend to be Sir Hillery's secretary and inform Ruby her target is already married.

But, in the main, James Bond doesn't take center stage until the entries of August 1962 when M dispatches 007 to Cuba where he uncovers the Russian missiles Khrushchev had sent that later set off the Cuban missile crisis. Moneypenny gets into the action, first accompanying M on a trip to Washington to brief both Robert and John Kennedy on Bond's reports. This leads to her unexpected personal mission to go to Cuba herself to bring 007 a radio transmitter—only to see Bond in KGB custody. And then . . . well, to say more would be spoiling the adventure. The first book of the trilogy ends with an announcement the next set of diary entries would cover the year 1963, dove-tailing with the events Ian Fleming described in Man With the Golden Gun.

Along the way, Westbrook pulls in Ian Fleming into the background as it was on one of Commander Fleming's World War II missions that her father, apparently working for Fleming in Naval Intelligence, disappeared at sea. It was Jane Moneypenny's desire to learn his fate that first drew her into the Secret Service, and later the leverage the Russians used to attempt to get secrets from her. So Bond connections fill the pages of the diaries, even when James Bond is off camera, with Bill Tanner, M, and the Moneypenny family all swept up into the realm of the Bond mythos.

Clearly, this edition is for Bond enthusiasts only as any reader would have to care about the characters already drawn in the Fleming books. True, the copious footnotes give all the particulars for anyone who's forgotten who Mr. Big or Solitaire might be. Westbrook's organization is not linear, and details about her “aunt's” life appear in a very scattered order. It's an entertaining read, not essential and the verdict is still out as to whether or not the stories will be considered “canon.” But if Devil May Care isn't enough Bond for you this year, The Moneypenny Diaries might serve as your literary dessert.

Notes

1. I admit, the first paragraphs here are a slight revision of the same material in my 2004 book, Spy Television. The points there were in a different context and for a different purpose, so I feel free to plagiarize myself.

2. Duns, Jeremy. "Gold Dust", Kiss Kiss Bang Bang magazine, Issue 2 (Winter 2005), pp. 39-47

3. Payne, Ron. “Geoffrey Jenkins, His Lost 007 Thriller, and the Hunt for a Continuation Novelist.” Posted at WWW.Spywise.net in “The James Bond Files.”

4. Cox, John. "The Raymond Benson CBN Interview." CommanderBond Network.org. 23 Mar, 2004 . http://www.commanderBond.net/Public/Stories/2306-1.shtml

5. It's important to note that Faulks' use of Iran likely had less to do with current headlines than with the fact Fleming's last project was working on a story that ultimately became The Poppy is Also A Flower, a non-Bond concept made into an anti-drug TV movie with settings very like some in Devil May Care.

6. A reference to M telling Bond in From Russia With Love that the chief didn't want a woman “hanging on one's gun arm.”