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I had completely forgotten this was the actual title of the chapter. The edition I read from the library (the 1954/55 Macmillan Company first printing in the US) has the chapter titled "Seventh Avenue." I assume with permission. Certainly adds one more unfortunate dimension to matters of racism within the novel.
You read your Bonds under the most interesting circumstances! I should get more adventurous. Though I have at least been reading mine mostly near a sparkling body of water in the beautiful summer sun.
Agreed!
Thank you both for your thoughts on L&LD.
@Birdleson, you should know by now that I don't do anything small. ;)
About the chapter title, I have the Penguin centenary additions and I actually had no idea that the books reprinted by other publishers changed the title. Because Penguin had printed a lot of older classics, including some Mark Twain works that use the n word, I assume that they stood by their practice of keeping the novels they printed as they were when originally written instead of altering them for the times. I actually really respect that, and I'm glad that the language Fleming used in his books wasn't edited from his original intentions. Some of it is uncomfortable for a modern reading experience, but I'd rather see it uncensored than monkeyed with. For this reason amongst many, I'm glad to own these Penguin editions.
I too own the Penguins. They're lovely editions. Beautiful covers.
The library copy I'd picked up however was from the time of the novel's release: 1954/55. It was the US edition where they omitted the n-word. Again, I have to imagine this was done with full permission as part of the rights to release the book in the US.
Given how vastly Moonraker differs from its film counterpart, I'd be very interested to hear from anyone reading it for the first time. I also find it a wonderful coincidence that for at least three of us (yourself, myself, and @Agent_99), Moonraker is our favorite Fleming. Fleming accomplished some quite impressive things with later Bond novels, but Moonraker really brought everything together in such an exquisite, concentrated, and thoughtful way. No Bond novel ending has taken me by such surprise or with such effect as did Moonraker's the first time I read it.
I think @pachazo mentioned an interest, and that @Shark_0f_Largo and @Milovy might join for a few. Moonraker would sure be a good one to get in if you can.
Great! FRWL is another one I've always been greatly impressed by. One of Fleming's best written novels. It's with good reason JFK named it among his favorite books.
I'd personally be for the latter for a few reasons. For one, it would give us some structure in discussing the short stories to allot a briefer period of time for talking about each. For another, just personally, life is going to get much, much crazier for me in the fall so it would be nice to have some time in there.
And perhaps the best reason of all: doing so would put OHMSS right before Christmastime for us. Thematically, it would be nice to read that particular novel during the holidays.
I am making a deliberate effort to read them in interesting locations! I intended to read that one on the ferry from Spain; the bath is business as usual around here.
And I'm envious of your waterside location. I wish I lived nearer the coast.
I note from your profile that we agree on favourite actor and movie as well as novel :)
First Norwegian edition from 1962:
Second edition from 1967:
Another book with the same title:
I picked up CR at the start of the book-a-thon, read the first chapter, and it's still sitting beside my bed.
I've been reading the incredible reviews and I'm impressed with such wonderful, thorough, intellectual analyses... Perhaps I can sneak in here n there as time opens a little more for me in the upcoming weeks...?
That's perfectly understandable @peter: life is pressing and time isn't always available. I probably have the least going on out of the others here, but I still have to work around a schedule to get the reading and writing done, so I completely get the struggle for someone with a full family and all those other responsibilities. Drop in and out any time you want, we love having you.
:))
Hell yeah, time for Moonraker.
1. Secret Paper-Work
Moonraker is unique among Bonds in being entirely UK-based. Therefore, unlike the last two which started out abroad before flashing back to the briefing with M, it's nice to actually start out at HQ, where we haven't seen Bond much, with this great game of target practice between Bond and the Instructor.
We learn that Bond is the best shot in the service (but only M and Tanner are allowed to know that).
Peculiar moment here where we briefly enter the loose POV of a completely inconsequential character: the liftman who takes Bond up. It's mentioned he's always liked the smell of cordite because it reminds him of the Army. I've always found this leap into the mind of the liftman rather odd. However I realize Fleming had just done something similar with the Instructor and perhaps he's simply giving us "the tour" of MI6 so to speak now that we're on the third novel and haven't seen much of it yet.
We do indeed get the tour: "the bustling world of girls carrying folders, doors opening and shutting, and muted telephone bells..."
We're also introduced to the drudgery of Bond's work, though he acknowledges "his daily moment of pleasure at having a beautiful secretary."
Interesting that we see Loelia Ponsonby characterized in far greater detail than we've seen of Moneypenny to date. Yet the world knows of Moneypenny and not of Loelia Ponsonby.
Mentions of the two other 00 agents. Loelia loves them all equally and worries terribly about the danger they face in the field. That's why she won't get close to any of them emotionally.
Interesting that the men are permitted affairs, but with women this makes them a "security risk." How does this work? Are we to believe women would be more likely to divulge secrets of the trade to a lover than men? Or did everyone just get trigger happy about female employees after the Vesper affair? ;)
Fleming tends to assign certain physical attributes to certain character types. He obviously had a thing for wide-mouthed women with long dark hair as this applies to Vesper, Solitaire, and Gala (the first two having long black hair, the third long brown hair). At MI6, both M and Loelia have gray eyes—which generally connote wisdom. Bond also has gray eyes (gray-blue). Fleming may even have been unconsciously repeatedly assigning these characteristics to character after character, just going with what he naturally associated these colors and traits with.
008 (Bill) had gotten himself into some kind of trouble in northern Germany and is now recovering in Berlin. Wonder if he generally gets it as bad as Bond does... "Yes, they say he should have full use of his tongue again in about four weeks after they sew it back on. That girl he ran into on the job, Miss Veronica Saltybottom, should be pleased to hear that."
I love how MI6 has a known interior leak that infuriates Security and that it originates in the girls' powder room. Fleming's humor shining there.
More and more revealed of the section: 0011 AWOL in Singapore; Bond only gets assignments 2-3 times per year.
After the brutal tragic love story of CR and the escapist adventure of LALD, I really like that MR settles down at the homestead and gives us an elaborate overview of the Service. And especially that we get a good amount of Bond and M together in this one. This really feels like the right point in the series for all that. The perfect point perhaps.
We also catch more of Bond's personal life outside of work: dispassionate affairs with a trio of married women, cards with friends, high stakes golf on weekends, no holidays apart from the two weeks leave after each assignment. Fleming essentially gives you everything you could want to know about the day-to-day living of Bond (and then some) right here in this opening chapter: yearly salary, flat off King's road, Scottish housekeeper, supercharged 1930 Bentley.
In his darker moments Bond is certain he will be killed before mandatory retirement at 45, therefore he endeavors to spend as much of his income as possible. 8 years to go. That means at the time of MR, Bond is 37.
2. The Columbite King
Mention of Tanner looking pale and overworked. As M's Chief of Staff, I imagine he would be. (I'm not M's Chief of Staff, just pulling one of Fleming's classic dangling modifiers.)
As in the previous books, Bond's admiration for M is absolute: "...the weatherbeaten face he knew so well and which held so much of his loyalty."
That rare moment where M calls Bond "James," a tipoff to the personal nature of his request. Still, very odd to hear M call him "James."
"...a Lonsdale figure..." *snicker*
M's eyes grow "chillier" as Bond describes Drax's accomplishments and how highly the public think of the man, particularly at the mention of how they might as well make him Prime Minister.
Drax was indeed a shrewd businessman to have accumulated so much fortunate in such a brief time. Goes on to live the playboy lifestyle, throwing money at women, yachts, prize-winning horses. Die Another Day did well in recreating a science-fictionalized version of him.
Nice development at chapter's end: after all the business about the German Werewolves (love the name!), playboy Drax, and building a towering and terrifying rocket, M's actual concern is that Drax cheats at cards. Such a small and childish thing. Good hook.
3. 'Belly Strippers,' Etc.
False advertising, that chapter title.
Drawing on Bond's card talents again, keeping some nice continuity with CR.
More interesting details about M's character: "He [Bond] could have talked to M about cheating [at cards] for hours, and M., who never seemed to be interested in food or sleep, would have listened to everything and remembered it afterwards."
Curious that Drax's regular partner, whom he is actively helping make money, is Jewish. Doesn't seem to be any particular reason why he needs to be Jewish, though I can think of a danged good reason why Drax wouldn't want to help a Jew...
Ah yes, mention of Bond's own mustard-laced salad dressing. Can you imagine going out to eat with this guy? He'd be worse than dining with a vegan.
As for Bond's housekeeping habits, he throws his clothes "more or less tidily" on the bed. Bond also refuses to shave twice in one day. As someone who hates shaving, I don't blame him.
Clever, almost throwaway, detail of Bond noting the fading of his trunkline tan and then smiling at "some memory."
Blades has a pretty sweet set-up with all dining free of charge, the cost being automatically deducted from each week's winnings. Enough money changes hands that it all balances out, and the losers at least have the consolation of dining free that week. Good deal.
Staggeringly beautiful waitresses as well, who sometimes "stray into one of the twelve members' bedrooms at the back of the club." You can tell you're firmly in Fleming's world now. Ironed newspapers, Floris soaps and lotions, nothing but newly-minted notes and silver.
Fantastic finishing touch: with thunder in the sky, giant crimson letters flash "HELL IS HERE."
4. The 'Shiner'
Hmm. Asterisking out M's real name. The asterisks match the letters though, so Fleming clearly knew what the name was at the time. He was just withholding it from the reader for some reason.
Interesting detail about Bond appearing "alien and un-English." Ironic as well, this mention of him never having to do a job in England.
The waiter's name is Tanner too. Maybe that's the part they though they were casting Rory for.
The only novel, of course, where M meets and speaks with the villain.
The grotesqueries Fleming assigns to Drax feel a bit more natural, a bit less overtly deliberately signpost-waving, than those given to Le Chiffre and Big. I suppose because all the business about Drax's ghastly facial surgery is directly tied in to his backstory. (But then of course there's his "naturally prognathous upper jaw and marked protrusion of the upper row of teeth" which Bond attributes to a childhood habit of thumb-sucking. And the flamboyant red circus hair. And the gigantic, furry hands with their unnaturally long thumbs. Seriously, no one with thumbs that freakishly long can have any good in their soul.)
I love what an arrogant bastard Drax is. The way he refers to Bond as "Commander Thingummy. What did you say his name was?" I picture Orson Welles with his deep, self-involved voice fitting the part of Drax quite well.
5. Dinner at Blades
This is probably among my favorite Fleming chapters, just for getting Bond and M dining together at Blades. Their dinner selection is fantastic of course—caviar, smoked salmon, deviled kidney, lamb cutlets, asparagus Béarnaise, marrow bone, pineapple and strawberries—and the dining hall is exquisitely described as only Fleming can, but we also get these little bits of humor between Bond and M in here that are just delightful to read.
For instance, I love M's reaction to Bond peppering his vodka. His response is classic: "So long as you don't put pepper in Basildon's favorite champagne." And then the drugs Bond has delivered to their table in an envelope. I could see this all playing out beautifully in a film with a perturbed Bernard Lee (or, as the opportunity has passed, Fiennes).
I'm not sure I entirely follow the logistics of Bond's plan to get wasted then take the Benzedrine to keep his wits, however. Does Benzedrine really work like that? Maybe. It's a fun idea anyway—Bond getting drunk for the sake of the "mission" (and in front of M to boot!)—even if the logistics of his plan feel wonky.
A nice little moment with the gorgeous waitress brushing her skirt against Bond and ever so briefly catching his eyes.
The Marthe Richards law: a 1946 bill in France closing brothels for public health. Evidently this "pre-war establishment in Paris" Bond recalls must have doubled as a brothel.
Again, what a wonderful bastard Drax is: "Well, gentlemen...are the lambs ready for the slaughter and the geese for the plucking?" And the way he draws his finger across his throat. "We'll go ahead and lay out the axe and the basket. Made your wills?" There's such a macabre edge to his taunting. He brings death and ghastliness to the table with his every spoken word.
Also the law Le Chiffre fell foul of in CR!
The hyper awareness and confidence would definitely help in Bond's case. Still I can't see getting loaded on champagne and a cocaine-like substance helping Bond keep his wits very well. I've seen someone loaded on alcohol and (what was very likely) cocaine, and they just came off like a complete idiot. (To be fair, that person was assuredly a complete idiot to begin with.) But anyway, as with some other things in Fleming's storytelling, the champagne/Benzedrine plan works just fine if you don't inspect the nitty gritty of it.
Great catch!
This is why reading the books in order for the first time is BRILLIANT. I'd never picked that up before.
Fleming actually does a very nice job of keeping continuity with the series, sometimes in overt ways (Bond's Soviet scar covered up, M's request he takes leave) and others more implied, like how Bond responds differently to a situation because of what happened to him in the past. His anger at SMERSH is the big carry over.
I am in agreement with everything you've written on Moonraker, but what has really struck me this read through is just how much Drax leaps off the page at you, by comparison with Le Chiffre or Big. Both were very well described villains, but Fleming really goes the extra yard with Drax in painting him physically and psychologically. The man is truly larger-than-life and impeccably characterized.
And there you go: Fleming immediately shows us the ramifications of getting loaded on champagne and benzedrine. He also puts Bond's back against the wall, having him rashly stake everything he has to his name and then some against Drax. "Never again," thinks Bond.
Always have loved this little back and forth between M and Drax—M's perfectly calm and chilly reply to Drax's offensive questioning of whether Bond is good for his commitments.
Unlike with the baccarat in CR, Fleming does not explain the game of bridge here, leaving the uninformed reader to rely on narrative clues to discern what is going on in the game. I'm not familiar with bridge myself. I think once in the past I researched how to play the game while reading these chapters, but I really can't be bothered every time I read the book. So all the card business itself is a lot of nothing to me here. I'm sure I'd get a lot out of it if I knew the game like I know Hold 'Em. Even so, Fleming fortunately provides enough dialogue- and character-wise to make the game an intense read.
Bond's barb about "memory" helping Drax in his finesse. That's one element of Fleming's novels I'm glad has found its way into the films—the carefully dropped loaded phrase to incite the villain's rancor.
7. The Quickness of the Hand
I love how when Drax requests they double the stakes, Bond casually asks, "That mean you double the side-bets too?" I picture him asking in much the same casual way as how Craig asked for the valet ticket after his game with Dimitrios.
And then Bond redoubles the stakes!
Wonderful description of Drax's reaction to his loss, his "pile of impotent aces and kings and queens": how he slams his fist on the table and starts to call Bond a "cheat." One of Drax's distinguishing characteristics is certainly his volatility (and the great store of hatred for the English he holds inside himself). Unlike the suave and calculating Mr. Big, Drax is loud, brutish, and quick to rage.
And that beautiful final threat, so exquisitely appropriated for Khan: "I should spend the money quickly, Commander Bond."
8. The Red Telephone
In describing Bond's hangover at the office the following Tuesday morning (what a way to start your work week!), Fleming mentions "the melancholy and spiritual deflation," which reminds me instantly of Kingsley Amis's "Everyday Drinking." I imagine Fleming and Amis must have had more than one conversation on the topic of imbibing.
Bond gets to keep the winnings, of course. Some £15,000. Bond seems to regularly come into large amounts of money on these missions (official or not). Money he gets to keep and spend himself, like the Communist dollars in LALD. One more aspect of luxury helping to glamorize Fleming's portrait of the secret agent life.
Bond's reflection before sleep that night: "that the gain to the winner is, in some odd way, always less than the loss to the loser." Is that ever so true in all things. Bond will discover this firsthand in another way...in the end.
Kind of a curiously, probably unintentionally, sad little moment here where Loelia thinks on the dinner and library book she had to abandon to get Bond his benzedrine. Especially after the earlier mention about how female employees in the Service aren't permitted to have families or take lovers.
I like how Bond steels himself mentally for the new workday: "Monday was gone. This was Tuesday. A new day. Closing his mind to his headache and to thoughts about the night, he lit a cigarette and opened the brown folder..." He knows how to focus, how to compartmentalize, how to get down to business. He knows what's what. Many a time I wish I had that kind of absolute mental resolve.
Though the two aren't directly related, it's interesting that the "pointless" brief Bond reads on the Japanese murder-drug attributes the abuser's violent activity to extreme paranoia and persecution complexes, and this is the same diagnosis Bond reaches in explaining Drax's brash behavior. Fleming equating Drax to a murderous paranoiac.
Bond himself enters a quasi-obsessive train of thought on the topic of Drax, and quite hilariously, finally distracts himself by taking out a pencil and a memorandum pad labeled "Top Secret" and making himself a list of how to spend the £15,000 Drax bestowed him: Rolls-Bentley Convertible, three diamond clips (for three different men's wives??), clothes, painting the flat, golf irons, etc. It's absurd, this picture of Bond sitting at his work desk, looking out over London, and writing down a shopping list of things like "painting the flat" on a "Top Secret" memorandum. You'd never see that in one of the films. But why not? It's true to character and perfectly hilarious because we don't always think of Bond as being so human.
9. Take It From Here
Geez, M can be a cold one sometimes. His greeting to Bond is "You look pretty dreadful, 007. Sit down." Uh yeah, because he was up all night loaded on drugs and booze and staking his life fortune to help YOU with a personal affair. "Dreadful" indeed.
Ha! Love how Bond thinks of Drax and his 52 employees as "pack of cards and a joker."
"World Without Want" - beautiful name for a pub. Beautiful name for a Bond film for that matter.
Misdirection for the reader: M casting suspicion on the Russians for potential sabotage of the rocket.
Fleming manages to work his way around the problem of having Bond assigned to a case in the UK. The Minister asks M personally to get involved, MI5 have their only three German-speaking operatives tied up on other cases, and "a lot of red tape" gets snipped very swiftly for Bond to take on Drax. Works.
10. Special Branch Agent
Interesting how even on this case, on domestic soil, Bond feels out of place with his surroundings as he usually does on missions abroad. "He was getting tangled up in strange departments. He would be out of touch with his own people and his own Service routines. Already, in the waiting-room, he felt out of his element." It's almost as if Fleming needs Bond to feel at odds with his environment for the stakes of whatever story he's working on, and the natural displacement of being in a new land and another culture typically serves that end.
Crazy business Bond works in where he has to learn the workings of a high-powered rocket for the sake of his job. Further demonstrates how intelligent and knowledgable Bond really is, using his existing knowledge of jets to understand the Moonraker. The really important thing Fleming sets up here, however, is the business about the gyro and the homing radar. And he sets it up very well without being obvious about it.
"Heil," said the German before shooting himself. The plot thickens. Bond thinks this over carefully as the chapter ends. Nice tantalizing little cliffhanger.
When I was in the navy, we had amphetamine ampoules locked away aboard the ship, to be used in case of war. Not sure if it is still the case.
@Thunderfinger, that's interesting. I don't know if benzedrine would still be used today, as the addictive effects of it could've put the military off from using it to avoid hooking their soldiers, and there could be a taboo around it. I know that many workers in various industry still use it, like truck drivers who need to be kept alert for long periods of time.
Of course, the US is always at war, isn t it?
Have you had to swim for 300 yards to get at some heavily guarded pirate treasure, @Birdleson?
Chapter 14- ‘He Disagreed With Something that Ate Him’
This chapter does an excellent job of putting Bond through it and making him face his challenges alone. The disappearance of Solitaire via kidnapping is one bit of guilt Bond feels, for seeing her fear and not addressing it, but the fate of Leiter proves far worse.
While trying to sort out the aftermath of Solitaire’s exit, Bond is happy to see that she was able to leave behind her valuables to aid he and Leiter in the rest of the job. She isn’t a fool, and it’s great to see Bond paired with someone who knows the tricks and who doesn’t impede his work. I also like the detail where Bond commits to spending the money Solitaire had left to avenge her if she was killed.
Even between these stressful moments, Fleming somehow finds a way to inject some black comedy into Bond and Felix’s time. As they run to get a bite to eat, near closing time, we get a passage that paints the picture of a bunch of “oldsters” looking on in disgrace and judging them while they gossip about the presence of government men in their little town. The image of Bond and Leiter stuffing their faces as a bunch of elderly women gawk at them just before bingo hour is a strange one, but I can’t help but be amused.
The rest of the chapter really plays on Bond’s fears and shows him at a loss. The fake-out at the hospital reveals to him a plan he already sees forming, and he races back to The Everglades to see what the damage is. His discovery of Felix is a very quiet but sympathetic moment as we see him grow uneasy and upset over a man who had become his friend. While I think this moment would’ve had more impact after a series of books with Felix, we get to know him well enough to be pissed off too and the graphic nature of his state only continues to prove the disgusting evil that Big is.
We end the chapter with the image of Bond cleaning his gun and inquiring about his suspicions regarding Ourobouros Worm and Bait and their horde of sharks. It’s revenge time, but this time he’s alone in his fight as the tension rises.
Chapter 15- Midnight Among the Worms
This very evocative and action-filled chapter gives us another literary Bond first: after so much talk of Bond’s other missions and kills in the previous novel, we actually get to see the man in the field conducting a break-in and investigation using stealth (at least for a while) for the first time. Before Bond heads out on this big mission he has a hearty meal, a giant steak with fries and bourbon; it’s hard to tell if Bond expects the worst and is eating a great meal in case it’s his last, or if he’s just intent on trying more of the local flavor. Probably a bit of both.
It’s an extremely simple chapter, showing Bond uncover the truth about where the coins of the pirate hold are being stored inside the worm and bait building, but is able to effectively present an engaging sequence of cat and mouse once the spy is forced to fight his way out. The darting from cover to cover as tanks full of fish and shells shatter creates a lot of exciting imagery and sounds for a visual reader that puts themselves in the scene, and it’s great to see Bond working to get himself out of a gun fight he’s outmatched in by thinking on his feet. His quick use of the coin and trap door to leverage the odds back in his favor prove his fast thinking and ability to turn strategy on a dime.
It’s glorious to see The Robber turned into such an infinitesimal mass of desperation and fear, just as it is to witness Bond righteously cave to his base rage to get his revenge on the man for what he’s done to his friends. It’s a great moment of Bond doing something that afterwards makes him shudder as he hears the revolting noises of a shark enjoying its feast, but a price that needed to be liquidated nonetheless for himself and to send a message.
Chapter 16- The Jamaica Version
Fleming crafts a chapter here that fires on all cylinders, offering a variety of moods and happenings in its duration. We see Bond finally make his way off to Jamaica to face the possible treasure trove there while faced with all that has led him to this moment.
Mid-flight Bond imagines Solitaire sensing him coming as he passes over Cuba, once again showing us signs that part of him believes in her instinct. This is an interesting detail for me, because I would usually view Bond as a very secular, nonbelieving sort of chap whose life experiences terminated any belief in a greater purpose or supreme supernatural power. He then naturally thinks of Solitaire’s promise of sex to him, an end goal that helps keep him pushing through to the end of his mission so that it can be met.
On a flight directly to Jamaica the plane Bond is traveling in experiences some turbulence and Fleming goes off on a strange and out of nowhere tangent into the spy’s mind as he takes in notions of safety on planes and his own survival. The spy takes note of useless red lights, inflatable vests and seat belts, remarking about how little purpose they’d serve in a deadly crash, while putting himself at ease by concluding that death meets us all in the end and each second of survival should be enjoyed. This is all very true and supports the character of Bond as we know it, living life to the full each second, but it feels like a very strange moment to use to go off on a page long exploration of this side of his personality. I guess that since death is following Bond around during this mission-a point he notes, casting himself as a Reaper-like figure-he is naturally reminded of his own mortality and the idea that his end could come in so many ways, on the job or off. He’s certainly earned a holiday after this one…
The rest of the chapter closes off with a meeting of the intriguing and charming Strangways as he informs Bond about the current state of the mission and how Captain Morgan’s history has blended into the contemporary criminal affair. Fleming paints a rich and striking old pirate’s tale for us, blending the past and present and setting the stakes for just what Bond is facing. I love the imagery of these divers being sent to spy on Big’s men at the island, then the sound of rising, tribal drums as an omen is sent out before parts of their corpses wash up along the bay. It’s so macabre and fearful, playing on the natives’ own beliefs in the idea of a Samedi-like figure, but even to a man who doesn’t believe the fear tactics being employed by Big’s men is spine-tingling in the message it transmits.
The chapter sets up a helluva finale, which we know will involve Bond swimming directly for the island from Strangway’s rented property just across from the Secatur’s port. It’s this kind of cinematic quality the films really latched on to and never let go.
Chapter 17- The Undertaker’s Wind
This chapter does an immaculate job of so many things, from introducing us to the various parts of Jamaica and Quarrel, detailing Bond’s training and mindset as he primes his body, and ultimately sets the stage for the final attack on Big across Shark Bay.
We start off the chapter with Bond being thankful to have breath in his lungs in a sequel to his moment of peace on the airplane, enjoying a fine meal and “consolation” amidst his dutiful obligations. It’s in this same moment that we meet Quarrel, another feather in Fleming’s cap that would buttress a lot of arguments that he wasn’t a cruel, racist Englishmen. The Cayman Islander is a wonderful and fully formed character, hard not to love. Bond immediately takes a liking to him, and makes a special note that their dynamic was one of bound duty as men who’ve served on the sea, with no room for “servility” between them. It’s fantastic imagery, and the comparison of Bond as the captain and Quarrel his quartermaster fits in beautifully with the pirate imagery of the entire novel, especially once we hit Jamaica and get visions of rocky islands and tales of old treasure.
Quarrel soon becomes Bond’s window into Jamaica in its many spheres, from the minutia of its many organisms to the native lingo and the whole lay of the islands surrounding them. Bond is somewhat familiar with the area and has a history there, but he’s always willing to bend to a higher authority and puts his trust in Quarrel, who becomes his tour guide.
As Bond and Quarrel rest outside the building lodging the works of the West Indian Citrus Company, we get the strong imagery of the spy being compared to the Undertaker’s Wind, a force of nature that takes out the bad air from the island and pushes it away for the good air to come in. It’s a suitably symbolic title for this chapter, as Bond finishes it very much resigned to his personal and professional duty to face Big and bring him to ruin, taking the bad to make way for the good.
The rest of the chapter is dotted with great bits of superstition that the natives fear, like a fearsome calf with fire coming from its nostrils, to Bond’s study of the sea life of the area to prepare himself for his coming mission. This terrifying knowledge of a world he can’t ever prepare for under the sea mixed with his near death run in with the wild barracuda alongside Quarrel give him the sweats, and it’s fascinating and quite human to see this fear take him over as he has nightmares through the night over it all. It keeps with the theme of omens in the book that, the night before Bond was reading about barracudas and their dangerous nature, he was fighting for his life the next day against one.
We end the chapter with Bond getting good news about Felix’s state, taking a minute to give his thoughts to his friend in a reserved fashion as only he can. With the Secatur coming into port the next day, the mission is clear. Bond’s mind is firing on all cylinders, his body prepared for the coming battle and his mind fixed on his own personal drive to obliterate SMERSH bit by bit.
Chapter 18- Beau Desert
The tension rests on pins and needles as Bond makes his preparations for storming Big’s stronghold on the opposing island. As his gear comes in from London we get our first reference to the concept of a “Q” Branch in the Bond lore, which the films would really take and run with. It’s great to see Bond study and test the equipment like a true man of action, leaving no room for malfunctions. I found it interesting that included in all of the cache were some Benzedrine tablets, something that would maybe be a bit taboo to see in use today. But in Bond’s day amphetamines were used by fighters in World War II on both Axis and Allied sides to improve the performance of their soldiers, so to see the drug offered to the Double-O on his own mission not many years on isn’t a surprise. Like with most things in these novels, the context of the time is everything.
As the Secatur comes into port everything seems to be going to plan, until Fleming throws a curve ball and in a twist to the plan, Big and his crew seem to be cleaning out the island and heading off to sail again early the next morning. This tests Bond’s mettle and forces him to move up his voyage under the sea at the last second, it being his only shot of completing his objective. I like the pause he gives as he takes in the scene, thinking about Solitaire and worrying for her. He knows the importance of his success in this venture, and emphasizes the cost of five lives that led him to that point. It’s interesting that he counts Tee-Hee, the two garage gunmen in New York and The Robber in his count of the dead alongside the innocent porter, showing that his four kills weren’t anything he was proud of despite his coldness in action and that death stands as death, whether good or bad. This holds true to the man we met in Casino Royale, who derided the notion of him being a hero because he was a Double-O killer, because he could see the humanity and commitment to a cause that his enemies shared with him.
As ten o’clock approaches we see Bond become a man of fascinating contradictions, who sweats the details of the operation until fear crusts in his heart, but who is then able to strap on his gear with “anticipation and excitement” to face the hidden depths of the sea and the obvious dangers of the coming island. I blame the Benzedrine tablets.
Chapter 19- Valley of Shadows
Christ, it’s books like this that drive one to avoid ever dipping a toe in a body of water ever again. When there are arguments about whether or not Fleming was a high-class writer, it’s chapters like this, “My Dear Boy” and “The Nature of Evil” that I first think about. The sheer magnitude of detail he pumped into this chapter to give a transparent view of the sea life Bond was facing is nothing short of amazing, coupled with the macabre and evocative imagery only he could create in that way. The sea fans moving spectrally in the moonlight, “like fragments of the shrouds of men buried at sea,” or a family of squids racing away from danger “in a diminishing chorus-line.” Giving human features or colorful metaphors to sea life just makes them pop off the page.
The chapter is just jam-packed with danger that is visceral to feel. We’re there in the depths with Bond as he races along the sea surface and prods the darkness for shadowed predators. His face-off with an octopus is breathless, tense and urgent, a great practice for a fight he’ll have just years later. The biggest heart thumping occurs when a storm of barracuda and sharks get riled up and hungry for the blood and offal clouding the water, with Bond right in the middle of the fog. You know he has to make it, but Fleming tricks you otherwise quite easily.
Chapter 20- Bloody Morgan’s Cave
This chapter immediately delivers on the threat presented to Bond, showing him in steep pain as a barracuda makes contact with his arm and causes the rubber of his suit to tear. He’s given just a short window of time to get out of it alive, with the promise of more fish coming that will be hooked to the scent of his blood in the water.
The reveal of a secret entrance to a gold littered cave is somewhat convenient, but Fleming is able to make it tense and, when the full features of it are revealed, no details are spared. It gradually becomes clear what the drumming was all about, not just as a fear stimulus but as a way to keep the fish surrounding the island riled up for any outside intruders.
Bond ends up largely in the same scenario as Casino Royale here where, following a mission to get a girl who’d been kidnapped, he gets out-plotted (this time by sharks instead of by tire spikes), leaving him stripped bare and bleeding as the villain prepares to torture him till death. Fleming often showed Bond out of it and struggling, perhaps even too much at times. It was clear that he valued seeing heroes in fiction who could be fallible and imperfect, yet still capable when it counted.
I’ve heard a discrepancy talked about regarding this chapter and why Bond doesn’t hold off on the voyage to the ocean and instead has Big’s ship tailed and captured by a large police force once it leaves the island. I largely agree that this is a big question mark, and doesn’t make much sense. If Bond wants to stop Big, surely the best way would be with a whole team of trained and armed personnel on the open seas, where the villain can’t go anywhere if surrounded. On the island Bond is forced to play Big’s game on his stage, and that immediately disadvantages him.
We also can’t say that Bond is doing it largely to save Solitaire, as Big wouldn’t kill her as far as we know. He seems to want to marry her and use her as a tool for his own bidding, and he’d have to keep her around to do so. But maybe her turn on him and her attraction to Bond over him has compelled him to kill her and be done with it, justifying Bond’s race to get to the island for fear that Solitaire will be thrown to the sharks before the Secatur leaves again.
However, with the knowledge of the next chapter, we can see that Big does intend to kill Solitaire to send a message for how fallible she made him look. In this way we could say that Bond is justified at least personally for risking a trip to the island, if only to save her. If he waited she could die before the Secatur departed, and if she was taken away to be killed later he’d never see her again. Bond sets the mine up before anything else, however, so you wonder what his plan is. I guess that, if he fails and dies, he has it at least set up that Big will die too no matter what, but he risks losing Solitaire too. I don’t know how he intended to get her to safety and away from the boat without both or one of them dying. Maybe they would flee and disappear, leaving Big to high tail it, at which point he would die from the mine. But if Big doesn’t get to the boat in time, Bond fails and the villain would still be alive to get his vengeance. The luck and timing is just too much.
Another theory could be that Bond realizes how supped up the yacht is, fit to do many knots over what the police boats of the region could do, especially on short notice. It stands to reason then that, if the Secatur were allowed to leave the island before the police gave chase, the yacht could outrun any of the boats that the local Jamaican officers have at their disposal. It then becomes necessary to attack them before they leave the island to ensure that there is no way for an escape to happen, with the knowledge that the yacht could book it and the last chance to get at the gold and Big would be gone. Bond actually complicates this himself, by putting a mine on the bottom of the boat. If he doesn’t succeed he risks losing Solitaire if she’s on the boat, ruining that for himself. On top of this, if he dies and Big does get away, the police will give chase after the yacht but what is the point if the boat is going to blow up anyway?
Even if the Secatur was able to successfully flee (minus a mine strapped to its bottom), however, you have to wonder just what Big would do. He is now blown to the United States and Brits, and his connections to the Russians well known, as is his gold scheme and what markets he corners. If he went back to Harlem he’d surely be taken to task with the amount of evidence against him, no matter his team of lawyers, and at the very least the police could bust attempts to sell the gold by putting some undercover officers in place to act as buyers. If anything, Big would have to dramatically change how he ran his business no matter what if he made it out of Jamaica, and you can imagine that SMERSH would have a pretty good case built for why he should be terminated on top of it, as he exposed himself in the way Le Chiffre did minus the greediness.
I think it can be agreed that Fleming needed to craft a better impetus to force Bond to act as he does, near committing suicide on his way to the island. The details as we know them don’t provide this clear answer, and that’s a very un-Fleming slip up.
Chapter 21- ‘Good Night to You Both’
As the chapter begins Bond and Solitaire are finally reunited, though in absolute peril. Bond quite sweetly tries to reassure the girl and give her some hope and comfort, showing how much he cares for her. The spy tells one of those lies you have to at times, making someone think everything will be okay when you know it won’t be. What makes the moment all the more tragic is the context in which Solitaire views it all. As Big drones on about his big plans you can tell that the girl is trying to use her abilities to get a read on the situation to sense the future, but she feels the presence or indication of so much death that she can’t get a steady or reliable hold on anything. It’s fascinating that Bond still believes in her instincts, because he strategically tells her to hush up to avoid the possibility of her cluing Big in on his fiery death.
In between all this I especially like the moment where Big thinks he’s informing Bond about the Jamaican climate by mentioning “The Undertaker’s Wind.” Not only is the villain lost amidst an inside joke Bond shared with Quarrel, he’s completely oblivious to the symbolic nature Bond serves (and will fulfill) as the wind that pushes him out entirely.
The chapter largely serves to set up the monologue on crime and his own arrogant brilliance that Big imposes upon Bond and Solitaire. In this bit of dialogue you can actually see how some of the speech may’ve influenced Richard Maibaum and other writers in the creation of the Bond films’ early villains. There’s the barb about Bond being a policeman that Dr. No uses in the film after his name and Big’s mention of himself being the first brilliant negro criminal was used in Goldfinger’s monologue to the gangsters, but altered from a comment about race to simple capability. In Big’s talk of wolves and sheep we can even see shades of Blofeld and his emphasis on living life by your own compass while stepping up to play, as he comments in Diamonds Are Forever that, “humility is the worst form of conceit.” Just as Blofeld seems to view the modest as up their own asses and unable to achieve true superiority and confidence, Big seems to view the sheep of the world as those too weak to make their own laws, as he has as a wolf.
The chapter ends and we again can find similarities with Casino Royale. A man and woman facing torture until death, our hero utterly helpless and resigned to his fate as he faces a strange and drawn out demise. The only thing that can save him is another miracle, this time in the form of an impossibly well timed mine and not a hidden SMERSH assassin.
Chapter 22- Terror by Sea
Man, this chapter just doesn’t let up. Truly one of Fleming’s greatest accomplishments when it comes to the creation of true terror. We experience it all in real time as Bond is constantly running through the statistics, timing and likelihood of their survival, trying to figure out when the mine will go off and give them the only chance of making it out alive.
You really feel at a loss with Bond as he must face the very dark nature of the moment. The most haunting detail of the chapter must be Bond’s commitment to drowning Solitaire if no hope was left, to save her the agony of being eaten alive, and to drown himself after he’d killed her, to escape that same sensation. The image of that is just so horrific to comprehend, with the only positive being the chance that Big would die with them.
With Solitaire stripped bare and Bond tied to her as the line tightens and drags them into the sea, there’s a hopeless feeling that permeates. Even in that disastrous scenario we can see what a great team Bond and Solitaire are, taking direction from each other and working together to survive and keep aware of the situation, hoping for the mine to go off. I was so taken aback, such that my head lifted from the page as I uttered an “awwh” when Bond knew the reef was coming and he turned Solitaire on top of him so that he would take all the damage of it and spare her any agony. It’s moments like this that make him a truly special character, and the polar opposite of a misogynist.
The moment that the mine goes off is played deliriously, to help simulate for the reader the confusion of Bond and Solitaire as they take in the wreckage and shock wave after effects around them. Even as they are freed, Bond’s struggle to make it to the reef is rugged, with the terrain tearing his body open from head to toe as he tries to keep Solitaire afloat with her limp weight bearing down upon him. Somehow surviving the explosion, we get a final image of Big tearing through the waves to survival, and watch as Bond does as he gradually gets torn to shreds. It’s another example of Fleming showing things as they really would be, not skimping on any details of the horrors of the situation just as he did in describing the aftermath of the explosion in Casino Royale and the consequences of Bond’s torture during his recovery. For all the fantastical events being depicted, the books contain a sense of reality that makes them feel visceral and frightening at peak times.
I was fascinated to read the little note that marks the end of the chapter, where Bond cries for the first time “since his childhood.” It’s the powerful image of a raw and broken man, moved to emotion over the simple privilege and blessing of being alive.
Chapter 23- Passionate Leave
And so, another Bond novel concludes. Bond faces another recovery as he licks his wounds, and in a funny bit of dialogue we find out that M is trying to get some of the gold for the department in a complicated face-off between the Brits and Americans. It’s clear that Bond cares not for the squabbling, just as he removed himself from it when he won big at the baccarat game in Casino Royale, and relaxes with the knowledge that his rugged part in the affair is done. I guess that’s what makes him a soldier, and not a bureaucrat.
We end with the passionate image of Bond and Solitaire enjoying each other’s company in a romantic setting, with Fleming presenting a conclusion not unlike those that would be a staple of the movies to come.