(GOLDFINGER, Chapter 1)
Bond is lucky that he has a strong sense of patriotism. After a killing, it helps to remind himself that the act was performed for the good of England. The short story, "For Your Eyes Only," is built around the premise that Bond will personally carry out the execution of the men who murdered some personal friends of M. When M reveals the situation to Bond, it is Bond who volunteers the appropriate action, knowing full well that there is no legal evidence against the murderers to bring them to trial.
Bond said, "I wouldn't hesitate for a moment, sir. If foreign gangsters find they can get away with this kind of thing they'll decide the English are as soft as some other people seem to think we are. This is a case for rough justice—an eye for an eye."
M went on looking at Bond. He gave no encouragement, made no comment
Bond said, "These people can't be hung, sir. But they ought to be killed."
("For Your Eyes Only," FOR YOUR EYES ONLY)
M makes no reply, but simply hands over the file on the case. What Bond will do is left unsaid. It is always left unsaid.
A full account of Bond's philosophy toward killing unfolds in Chapter 20 of CASINO ROYALE. While recuperating in the hospital after his torturous ordeal with Le Chiffre, Bond tells his friend Mathis that if he were faced with the task again, he would kill Le Chiffre out of personal vendetta rather than for the sake of his country. He goes on to argue that, in these modem times, "heroes and villains keep on changing parts." He takes a step further by concluding that perhaps Le Chiffre served a high purpose of creating a norm of evil by which an opposite norm of good could exist Mathis eventually laughs at Bond's serious brooding; he assures Bond that his tune will change with more experience under his belt—it is still very early in Bond's career.
"Well, when you get back to London you will find there are other Le Chiffres seeking to destroy you and your friends and your counfly. M will tell you about them. And now that you have seen a really evil man you will know how evil they can be, and you will go after them to destroy them in order to protect yourself and the people you love. You won't wait or argue about it. You know what they look like now and what they do to people. You may be a bit more choosy about the jobs you take on. You may want to be certain that the target really is black; but there are plenty of really black targets around. There's still plenty for you to do. And you'll do it. And when you fall in love and have a mistress or a wife and children to look after, it will seem all the easier."
Mathis opened the door and stopped on the threshold.
"Surround yourself with human beings, my dear James. They are easier to fight for than principles."
He laughed. "But don't let me down and become human yourself. We would lose such a wonderful machine."
(CASINO ROYALE, Chapter 20)
This last statement is telling. Bond does become more of a machine when it comes to the unpleasant task of killing. He learns, throughout the course of the series, that thinking twice about death can result in mental catastrophe. Almost thirty years after the CASINO ROYALE affair, Bond is asked by Q'ute (Ann Reilly of Q Branch) how it feels to kill a person:
"While it's happening, you don't think much about it," Bond answered flatly. "It's a reflex. You do it and you don't hesitate. If you're wise, and want to go on living, you don't think about it afterward either. I've known men who've had breakdowns—go for early retirement on half pension—for thinking about it afterward. There's nothing to tell, my dear Q'u—Ann. I try not to remember. That way I remain detached from its reality."
(LICENSE RENEWED, Chapter 5)
A somewhat cynical attitude, to be sure, but it has kept Bond sane over the years.
James Bond's loyalty to England is a strong motivating force in his attitude toward his profession, and he defends this position on more than one occasion. There is one point in YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE when Tiger Tanaka takes advantage of Bond's pride in England in order to persuade him to perform an execution for Tiger's government Tiger finds this touchy spot in Bond's character and jabs at it with accusations that Britain is a weak little nation. Bond loses his temper:
Bond said angrily, "Balls to you, Tiger! And balls again! Just because you're a pack of militant potential murderers here, longing to get rid of your American masters and play at being samurai again, snarling behind your subservient smiles, you only judge people by your own jungle standards. Let me tell you this, my fine friend. England may have been bled pretty thin by a couple of world wars, our welfare-state politics may have made us expect too much for free, and the liberation of our colonies may have gone too fast, but we still climb Everest and beat plenty of the world at plenty of sports and win Nobel Prizes. Our politicians may be a feather-pated bunch, but I expect yours are, too. All politicians are. But there's nothing wrong with the British people—although there are only fifty million of them."
(YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, Chapter 8)
This outburst causes Tiger to applaud. Amends are made, and soon Bond has agreed to assassinate Dr. Shatterhand for the Japanese in exchange for a secret ciphering method needed by the British.
Despite the many courageous and dangerous duties Bond performs for his country, the Secret Service does not allow him to accept medals or awards in recognition of his actions. Several times in the series Bond declines some sort of reward from various countries—even from the Prime Minister of England himself. He is always appreciative, but stands firmly on the Service's policy. Only once does M allow the rules to bend. At the end of THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, the Prime Minister proposes to recommend to Queen Elizabeth that Bond be immediately knighted. This would take the form of amending Bond's C.M.G. to a K.C.M.G. M congratulates Bond and gives the approval for Bond to accept the honor. But surprisingly, Bond refuses:
James Bond wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. Of course he was pleased! But above all pleased with M's commendation. The rest, he knew, was not in the stars. He had never been a public figure, and he did not wish to become one. He had no prejudice against letters after one's name, or before it. But there was one thing above all he treasured. His privacy. His anonymity. To become a public person, a person, in the snobbish world of England, of any country, who would be called upon to open things, lay foundation stones, make after-dinner speeches, brought the sweat to his armpits. "James Bond!" No middle name. No hyphen. A quiet, dull, anonymous name. Certainly he was a Commander in the Special Branch of the R.N.V.R., but he rarely used the rank. His C.M.G. likewise. He wore it perhaps once a year, together with his two rows of lettuce, because there was a dinner for the Old Boys—the fraternity of ex-Secret Service men that went under the name of The Twin Snakes Club. A grisly reunion held in the banqueting hall at Blades, it gave enormous pleasure to a lot of people who had been brave and resourceful in their day but now had old men's and old women's diseases and talked about dusty triumphs and tragedies. Tales which, since they would never be recorded in the history books, must be told again that night, over the Cockbum '12, when "The Queen" had been drunk, to some next-door neighbour such as James Bond who was only interested in what was going to happen tomorrow. That was when he wore his lettuce and the C.M.G. below his black tie—to give pleasure and reassurance to the Old Children at their annual party. For the rest of the year, until May polished them up for the occasion, the medals gathered dust in some secret repository where May kept them.
(THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, Chapter 17)
No, Bond cannot imagine being called Sir James Bond. He sends a reply to M explaining that he is a Scottish peasant, has always been a Scottish peasant, and that he would not feel at home being anything else.
ATTITUDES TOWARD WOMAN AND MARRIAGE
One of the less redeeming qualities Ian Fleming bestowed upon his major character is the author's own chauvinistic attitudes toward women. But one must keep in mind the time period in which Fleming wrote the Bond novels—the feminist movement in the fifties was a far cry from what it is today. At first glance, one would label Bond's t
reatment of women in the series as ruthless and uncaring; and granted, this is true to some extent, especially in the first novel, CASINO ROYALE. But on further study, James Bond's attitude toward women is not a degrading one—it is a protective one (which many women might find just as chauvinistic). Although most of the Bond women can certainly fend for themselves, Bond adopts the position of the machismo white knight saving the damsel in distress from the evil dragon. Although he probably wouldn't admit it, James Bond is a romantic at heart. He loves women as long as their involvement with him remains a short-term fantasy. And one must remember that the Bond women do not mind this. They, too, are independent people who are not looking for eternal entanglement any more than Bond is himself. Female fans of the Fleming novels understand this, and enjoy the Bond oeuvre on the basis that it is only fantasy life. The critics who accuse Fleming of chauvinism overlook the obvious good things Bond does for the women in the novels. For example, he is always a gentleman and treats his ladies with utmost respect. He has not once hit a woman (save for female villains like Irma Bunt or Rosa Klebb). And, despite what he may think when the woman is not present, Bond is always extremely kind to her. This is nowhere more evident than in THE SPY WHO LOVED ME, in which Bond goes out of his way to become involved in the personal problems of Vivienne Michel. Not only does he risk his life to save hers, but he takes great pains to see that the horrible experience at the Dreamy Pines Motor Court leaves no scars on Vivienne. Even Bond's future father-in-law commends him on the respectable way Bond has treated Tracy di Vicenzo:
"Your gentlemanly conduct in the casino, for which"—he looked across at Bond—"I now deeply thank you, was reported to me, as of course were your later movements together." He held up his hand as Bond shifted with embarrassment. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, to apologize for, in what you did last night A man is a man and, who knows?—but I shall come to that later. What you did, the way you behaved in general, may have been the beginning of some kind of therapy."
(ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE, Chapter 5)
Marc-Ange Draco is referring to an incident in which Bond volunteered to pay off the gambling debt which Tracy foolishly brought upon herself (she made a bet with no money to back her up). Later that same evening, Bond and Tracy became lovers. Marc-Ange contends that Bond's actions may have prevented a suicide attempt by Tracy.
There have been three women in the series with whom Bond has fallen in love. Vesper Lynd, the heroine of CASINO ROYALE, is a thorn in his side at the beginning of the adventure; but he soon finds himself totally captivated by the woman. Toward the novel's end, he is considering proposing to Vesper. But this romance is short-lived: Vesper, a double agent, kills herself before Bond is able to pop the question. This hurts Bond deeply, and he carries this scar with him through the rest of the series. It is mentioned in ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE that Bond visits Vesper's grave annually. The second woman is Tiffany Case, the heroine of DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER, with whom he lives for a while in his flat off King's Road; but subsequent clashes not only with May but with Bond's very organized life bring about the end of this relationship. Tiffany eventually meets and falls in love with an American serviceman. The third woman is Tracy, whom Bond marries in ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE. But the marriage ends in tragedy—Tracy is murdered by Ernst Stavro Blofeld only minutes after the wedding. Additionally, Bond lives with Kissy Suzuki for a year in YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, but he is amnesic at the time. He eventually leaves her, not knowing that she is pregnant with his child.
CASINO ROYALE features Bond at his most chauvinistic:
. . . And then there was this pest of a girl. He sighed. Women were for recreation. On a job, they got in the way and fogged things up with sex and hurt feelings and all the emotional baggage they carried around. One had to look out for them and take care of them.
(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 th
ings 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.
The James Bond Bedside Companion Page 15
