12
Thunderball
During the last half of 1959 Bond’s future on the silver screen quavered uncertainly. Inspired by Ernie Cuneo’s first draft for a screenplay, Fleming had produced a sixty-seven-page treatment, with substantial alterations and additions, which he then passed on to Ivar Bryce and the producer Kevin McClory. In turn, McClory made his own suggestions and amendments to which were added the attentions of a professional screen writer, Jack Whittingham. By the end of the year, however, Bryce’s interest had waned, leaving McClory still enthusiastic but with no certainty of a backer. Meanwhile, Fleming had other things on his mind.
Lord Kemsley having sold the paper to a new magnate, Roy Thomson, Fleming’s easy-going arrangement with the Sunday Times was coming to an end. In November 1959 he was sent on a trans-global expedition from which sprang a series of articles that would eventually form the first half of his travelogue Thrilling Cities. The journey took him to Hong Kong, Macao, Tokyo, Honolulu, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago and New York. Each destination had its own charm, but in an age when any flight was an adventure his description of air travel was almost as thrilling as the cities themselves. Few readers could resist the exoticism of a sentence that read, ‘An hour or more of slow, spectacular sunset and blue-black night and then Beirut showed up ahead – a sprawl of twinkling hundreds-and-thousands under an Arabian Nights new moon that dived down into the oil lands as the Comet banked to make her landing.’
It was to be one of his last assignments as a Sunday Times employee. As the Kemsley apparatus adjusted itself to Thomson’s regime, Fleming looked for a new office and a new secretary. For the former he settled on a room in Mitre Court, off Fleet Street, and for a secretary he chose Beryl Griffie-Williams, who would prove a dedicated, efficient, fiercely loyal guardian and one on whom Fleming would increasingly rely. Then, in January 1960, he was off to Goldeneye for another Bond novel.
Given that McClory’s project seemed to be in a state of flux, Fleming saw no reason not to use elements from the outline as a basis for his next novel, Thunderball. The book starts with Bond being sent for a detox at the Shrublands health retreat where, after a contretemps with one Count Lippe, whom he scalds to immobility in a steam bath, he learns that an American plane containing atom bombs has been hijacked from its base in Britain, and the two countries are being ransomed to the tune of £100 million. Behind the demand is a group called SPECTRE, ‘The Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion’ – of which, it transpires, Count Lippe was a member. SPECTRE is a perfect storm of evil, combining veterans from every violent organisation in the world – the Gestapo, Triads, SMERSH and the Mafia – under the overall control of Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Born in the Polish port of Gdynia, to a German father and a Greek mother, Blofeld is an overweight, asexual, power maniac who, like most Bond villains, has a physical peculiarity: the pupils of his eyes, like Mussolini’s, are completely surrounded by the whites. But while Blofeld is the spider in the web, it is one of his subordinates whom Bond must face: Emilio Largo, ex-member of an elite Italian naval unit, whose luxury yacht, the Disco Volante, supposedly involved in a hunt for sunken treasure, is anchored off Nassau.
Flying to the Bahamas, Bond teams up with his old friend Felix Leiter to locate the hijacked plane, now camouflaged in shallow water. Having enlisted the support of Largo’s mistress Domino, whose brother had been the pilot, Bond launches an underwater assault with the aid of American frogmen to retrieve the bombs. When cornered by Largo in an undersea cave he is saved by Domino, who fires a spear gun into Largo’s chest. On both sides of the Atlantic the operation is known by the code name Thunderball.
Fleming wasn’t happy with the manuscript, which he thought not up to his usual standard. Perhaps this was because he had lived with the idea for so long that it had lost its freshness, or maybe that having a ready-made outline to hand he dashed it off too fast. In January he warned Wren Howard to, ‘Tell Wm. P. I’m half way through a long and very dull Bond & to sharpen his red pencil as never before.’ He was, however, fond of his latest villain, Blofeld – so much so that he gave him his own birthdate, 28 May 1908 – and would feature him in another two adventures.
If Fleming wasn’t happy with the book then McClory and Whittingham certainly weren’t either. As far as they were concerned Fleming had simply stolen their material. He replied that he was writing a book of the film, should it ever materialise. Differences of opinion led to lawyerly exchanges and a 1963 court case that was settled with Fleming’s admission that his novel was based on a treatment by himself, McClory and Whittingham.1
Even as the idea of a Thunderball film began to disintegrate, Fleming worked the broadcast seam. In March 1960 he met a glamorous agent named Ann Marlow, at Sardi’s in New York, and later that year, over champagne and scrambled eggs, he assigned her agency rights for TV and radio. Tearing a piece off the menu he scrawled boldly, ‘To MCA – I would like Ann Marlow to be my exclusive radio and television representative – worldwide’. To which he added his signature and address.
Later, he followed the success of his first ‘Thrilling Cities’ articles with a second instalment that saw him driving across Europe to report on Hamburg, Berlin, Vienna, Geneva, Naples and Monte Carlo. He examined everything with his usual eye for the unconventional, and in Naples was delighted to secure an interview with ‘Lucky’ Luciano, the Mafia boss who had helped the Allies during their occupation of Italy in the Second World War.
Then, in November 1960, he was back in Beirut for a connecting flight to Kuwait, whose rulers (under the auspices of the Kuwait Oil Company) had invited him to write a book about its emergence as an oil-rich, modern state. He wasn’t the first to be enlisted as a Gulf propagandist – Dylan Thomas had written pungently about the region for Anglo-Persian Oil in 1952 – but although Fleming managed to uncover a tale of missing treasure, and described an extraordinary battle between a scorpion and a tarantula, he struggled to muster any enthusiasm for the place. When the Kuwait Oil Company received his manuscript, titled State of Excitement, they were not happy with it, and in the end it was never published.
Throughout 1961 Fleming continued to pursue Ann Marlow as an avenue to Bond’s televisual success. But then came a firm offer from film producers Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman.2 Faced, at last, with the chance of achieving what he had always hoped for, Fleming struggled to extricate himself from his deal with Marlow. In the end she conceded gracefully.
Thunderball being a contentious topic, Broccoli and Saltzman decided to start with a different novel: Dr No. Their arrangement with Fleming involved one or two legal hesitations but by 1962 filming was underway.
TO A. L. HART JR., ESQ., The Macmillan Company, 60, Fifth Avenue, New York 11, U.S.A.
Before leaving for Jamaica, Fleming sent his friend and publisher Al Hart a note to say that he was quitting Macmillan in favour of a different US publisher, Viking.
2nd December, 1959
We spoke and I still have blood on my hands from the meeting but this is now the formal letter which I suppose is necessary.
Briefly, I would be very grateful if the Macmillan Company would release me from my contract with them so that I can try my hand with the Viking Press.
As you know, several publishers have tried to persuade me to leave Macmillans and I have always resisted them on the grounds of my general satisfaction with Macmillans and in particular because of the very happy personal relationship you and I have always had together.
On the other hand, I have always felt slightly lost in the huge firm of Macmillans and I would like to try my hand at a smaller house to whom I would perhaps be more important. Several of my friends, including Graham Greene and Peter Quennell, are published by Vikings and it is they who have recommended the firm to me.
I have spoken with Vikings and I believe they will consider inviting Macmillans to sell them the old James Bond titles as and when they go out of print with you. I hope this m
ay be possible.
Finally please believe that I am most grateful to Macmillans for having given me shelter for so long and so rewardingly. As for yourself, I will not offend you with any clichés. All I can say is that I expect we shall both miss each others letters.
I am sending a copy of this to Phyllis Jackson at M.C.A. who are now, after the departure of Naomi Burton from Curtis Brown, my North American agents and I expect she will be getting in touch with you about the details of all this. I am also sending a copy to Jonathan Capes to keep them informed.
TO RICHARD CHOPPING
22nd March, 1960
It was very nice to hear from you, although the subject is rather a grisly one about which Michael Howard had already written to me in Jamaica.
I entirely agree with you that all your work ought to be much more highly paid, but I am thinking much more of squeezing the millionaires.
The position regarding the wonderful jackets you have done for me – and the last one is just as splendid as the others – is that Jonathan Capes pay their standard fee of 25 guineas and I pay the rest. I have always been very happy to do this, since your work is so marvellous that I am left with a picture that both Annie and I love to have, but I have not really bargained – though I am sure I ought to have – for more than double the usual price.
How would 100 guineas suit you?
If you feel this is a miserable recompense, please add on what you think would be a fair compromise and I shall naturally agree, but only on condition that you continue to do my jackets every year.
The main thing is that it was marvellous of you to take on the job so readily and so quickly and so brilliantly, and I assure you I shall not argue if you think a higher price would be right.
See you very soon I hope.
TO WILLIAM PLOMER
29th March, 1960
I was delighted with your brother’s joke from Jamaica, and so was Annie. I am sorry I missed him.
Fragrantise is one of my own words for 1959, and I apply it lavishly.
I have finished a giant Bond, provisionally called “Thunderball” (which the critics will know what to do with).
For all I know it is just about that, and I am wondering if it is worth doing a fresh typescript before you have seen it.
You may say that it needs drastic re-writing. I certainly got thoroughly bored with it after a bit, and I have not even been able to re-read it, though I have just begun correcting the first chapters. They are not too bad – it is the last twenty chapters that glaze my eyes.
Would it be a good idea, however mucky and totally uncorrected the type, if you were to give it a piercing glance before I start hacking around?
If you think it will get by, that will be all right, but if you think it definitely won’t I would go down to Swanage or somewhere and try and do some re-writing – much as I should hate it.
I do not know if you will think this is a good idea or not – probably not. Anyway, please let me know and I will bring the stuff, or not, with me when we have lunch together.
Would Wednesday, the lucky 13th April, suit you? I am longing to see you and hear all the gossip.
TO MRS. JEAN FRAMPTON, Mayfield, Bockhampton, Christchurch, Hants.
Jean Frampton was the typist who turned Fleming’s messy manuscripts into something fit for the typesetters. She often had useful comments to make, and for this book Fleming implored her to spare no efforts.
31st March, 1960
Dear Mrs. Frampton,
I hope you will now clear your desk for a further chore on my behalf.
I have written a full-length James Bond story, provisionally called “Thunderball”, and I am correcting my original manuscript bit by bit. I now enclose the first four chapters which I would be most grateful if you would type, one original plus four or five copies, whichever is easier for your machine.
I am afraid this is not a good typescript and I would be deeply obliged if you would apply your usual keen mind to any points – absolutely any – that might help the book get into shape.
Naturally this kind of editing would earn an extra fee and I only ask you to undertake it because your occasional comments on the work you have done for me have been so helpful.
Anything that your quick eye and mind falls upon, however critical and in whatever aspect of the writing, would be endlessly welcome.
I am sorry to have to pass on to you a rather half-baked job, but I have so much work pressing in on me from all sides that in this particular instance a little help from an intelligent person like yourself would be most valuable.
I shall be sending you further chapters as I go through them for obvious errors.
TO RICHARD CHOPPING
20th July, 1960
I gather Michael Howard has had a talk to you about a possible jacket for a new book, and I also gather that you are waiting on me to hear further details of the picture I suggested to you when last we met.
Briefly, I would now very much like you to do a picture for me, whether it will be a jacket or not, for a fee of 200 guineas, if you think that reasonable.
The picture would consist of the skeleton of a man’s hand with the fingers resting on the queen of hearts. Through the back of the hand a dagger is plunged into the table top.
Michael and I will assemble the props and send them down to you if you feel you would like to do this picture, and a tentative deadline would be early September if you can possibly manage that.
Please do this Dickie as it would be a really wonderful subject for your macabre vein.
FROM MICHAEL HOWARD
As Fleming continued to worry about the quality of Thunderball, Michael Howard wrote to reassure him.
18th August, 1960
I suppose it is because you present such an urbane and sturdy front to the world that one tends to forget the quivering sensibilities of the artist which lie behind it. But they must account for those acute pangs of doubt and dissatisfaction which you have repeatedly expressed to William and to me, for which neither of us can see any real justification.
Let me say first of all – since sometimes I have been inclined to let this be taken for granted – that we want to publish THUNDERBALL: but more than that, may I assure you that I have the fullest confidence that we can take your sales a great stride forward with it. I mean to sell just twice as many as before and I shall not rest until we do. And what’s more I mean to sell them at 16s. so there will be even more in it for you. [. . .]
The only criticism of any substance which I would make is at the end, where I really feel that some explanation is needed for Domino’s sudden reappearance on the seabed, having apparently escaped ‘with one mighty bound’ from her captivity and torture aboard the ‘Disco’ and furnished herself with a bikini and aqualung despite her state of shock. That, however, is one of the points you are already polishing.
For the rest, I am inclined to believe that the rather more realistic approach and absence of excruciating incidents is an advantage. So is the length which is not, by any means, excessive and I did not find my interest flagging anywhere. The underwater scenes, the little bit of gambling, the sidelights on catering arrangements are all excellently done and exactly what is expected of you. Really you have done it again quite superbly and you need have no qualms at all. Congratulations!
TO MICHAEL HOWARD
22nd August, 1960
A thousand thanks for your cheering letter and I will now get down to the corrections I hadn’t already done. The final draft should be with you this week and I will also do a blurb very shortly.
So far as the oil story is concerned do you think you could procrastinate for a few more weeks until I can clear my desk of other commitments and get around to having a talk with them. Surely there is no great hurry. I don’t go out there until November and I won’t have written the piece before Christmas. Couldn’t we let the whole project stay where it is for a few more weeks?
Again with a thousand thanks for your encouraging letter. A
pparently Viking are also very pleased with the book, so at least some of my fears were unjustified, and naturally I am pleased with your plans to give it a real shove this time.
I have had two or three talks with Dickie Chopping who seems to be getting on splendidly with the jacket having found a really splendid knife in Colchester. He has accepted my idea of green baize for the background and this should make something a bit more striking.
TO MRS. R. J. FREWIN, Apartment 305, Toronto 12, Ontario, Canada
Mrs Frewin of Toronto, a sharp-witted and observant fan, took Fleming to task over several inconsistencies in his novels. Among other things she wanted to know why: a) the light above M’s door seemed to be green in one book and red in another; b) Bond gained his 00 qualification for killing a man in cold blood yet later said he had never done such a thing; c) the method for contacting head office seemed to vary; d) Bond took his coffee now black, now white; e) M’s office was variously on the ninth floor and the eighth; and f) some of Fleming’s dates didn’t work.
Additionally, she bemoaned the incapacitation of Leiter in Live and Let Die, begged Fleming to resurrect Mathis, and told him not to write any more short stories: ‘They don’t do him justice and your female fans may not have husbands who read Playboy. (So maybe the money is quicker, but since when has Bond cared about money).’3 To assist him in future endeavours she supplied a plot featuring Bond, his old secretary Miss Ponsonby, and Mathis.
The Man with the Golden Typewriter Page 24
