by Mark Edlitz
With “The Man with the Golden Gun,” you integrated the plot into the song: “Love is required whenever he’s hired.”
That’s true. I thought those details were exciting. With John’s music, you have to hook them right away and get on with it. “He has a powerful weapon. He charges a million a shot.” It’s a good tale and it’s going to unfold right now. I always go with my gut instinct. It has to sing well and it has to tell a story. But more important than that, it has to chronicle emotions and not waste any syllables. I eliminate the unnecessary and make every bloody syllable count.
You have a fun line, “Lurking in some darkened doorway or crouched on a rooftop somewhere. In the next room or this very one, the man with the golden gun.” You’re suggesting that he could be in the same room where we are listening to the song.
That’s right. It’s kind of a scary line. It’s slightly chilling. He could be right next to you.
You said you always like to be a little bit naughty. You write, “His eye may be on you or me. Who will he bang? We shall see.” That’s a double entendre.
Yes, it is. I plead guilty there. That’s not a bad thing.
The songs need to be as exciting, witty, and sexy as the films themselves. That’s a tall order for a short song.
Yes, but it’s fun to write. It’s the only franchise where you can have some fun with the lyrics.
“One golden shot means another poor victim has come to a glittering end.” You’re painting pictures with your words.
“Glittering end” is very Bondian. But don’t ask me how I did it. I haven’t got a clue. I get John’s music and while I’m writing I become immersed in that Bond landscape. I just have some fun with the words.
After “Golden Gun,” the next one you did was “Surrender” from Tomorrow Never Dies.
Yes. That’s one of my favorites.
“Surrender” is told from the point of view of the villain.
“Your life is a story I’ve already written.” It explains what the film is all about. It’s about a guy who runs newspapers and other forms of media. [Five-time Bond composer] David Arnold came up with that melody; k.d. lang did a lovely job and it was going to be the opening title theme but we were unlucky. Sheryl Crow came in at the last minute with a new song and they went with that. We had high hopes for “Surrender.” Many fans have told me that they think it’s one of the best of the Bond songs.
Why do you think they went with Sheryl Crow’s song instead of yours?
Probably for commercial reasons. Sheryl Crow was hot and whoever’s hot usually sings that movie’s Bond song. That’s what happens. When John and I started, first you wrote the song and then you got the singer.
So you were not writing “Surrender” specifically for k.d. lang?
No, when we finished it we knew it was a song for a woman. But it was David Arnold’s idea to get k.d. lang.
I can easily imagine Shirley Bassey interpreting these lyrics, “I’ll tease and tantalize with every line. Till you are mine.” That’s a Shirley Bassey lyric.
It is a Shirley Bassey lyric. “The World Is Not Enough” is also a Shirley Bassey lyric. “The World Is Not Enough” would’ve been a bigger song if Shirley Bassey had recorded it. [Bassey, who recorded the theme songs to Goldfinger, Diamonds Are Forever, and Moonraker, sings for the rafters and makes a meal out of a song title.] They went with Garbage because it was contemporary but it was a mistake. Garbage is a terrific band but they’re not Bond. Shirley Bassey is Bond. She’s someone with an incredible identity. She is a good storyteller. Like an actress singing a song. Shirley Bassey should sing them all.
You wrote the lyric “Tomorrow never dies, surrender.” You added the word “surrender” after the movie’s title. It’s a wonderful but unexpected counterpoint to the rest of the lyric.
It is an unusual word to follow it, I admit it. But it sang beautifully. I wrote it because there were an additional three notes that were there after the title. [Singing] “Tomorrow never dies, da, da dum.” So I added the [three-syllable] word “surrender.”
You needed another word to fill the space of music?
Right, the music was there and it was good. Everyone liked the tune so I didn’t want to mess around with the music.
Instead of calling the song “Tomorrow Never Dies” it became “Surrender.”
David Arnold called and said, “Listen, we can’t call this song ‘Tomorrow Never Dies’ because Sheryl’s got ‘Tomorrow Never Dies.’” So I said, we’ll call it “Surrender.”
Next came “The World Is Not Enough.” You used a line from the script in your song, “No one ever died from wanting too much.”12 How did the song come about?
Normally, I’d spend an hour on the phone talking with David Arnold [the film’s composer]. He’s lived with the film and I said, “Talk me through it, David.” He would give me a summary of what the film is about. He may have said a couple of lines that stuck with me. That’s the way it works for me. With Born Free, I asked, “What is the film about?” He replied, “It’s about a lion who should be free. Then he goes wild.” I said, “Okay, thanks.” That’s it. You don’t need to know a lot to write it.
The character in the song “The World Is Not Enough” is a Bond woman but the lyrics could also apply to Bond. “I know how to hurt. I know how to heal. I know what to show. And what to conceal.”
It does apply. It’s very provocative. It’s alluring and dangerous. You wonder, what’s going on here? There’s a mystery about it all and that’s what I like to get in a Bond song.
“Thunderball” is one of the instances where there’s a male voice and it works very well with Tom Jones. But do you think it’s generally better to have a woman?
There’s something about a woman opening up her heart and her mind. It gets to you more than a man. It’s more acceptable somehow.
Do you think you could write a song from Bond’s point of view? He’s not an emotional character. But could you write a Bond song in the first person?
With Bond singing?
Yes, with a male singer.13
No. I would never do a Bond song in the first person. “I’m Bond.” It would take away the mystique. I don’t want to put it in your face or lay it on the line. You want [the listener to ask], what is it all about? It should feel like a prelude to some great adventure.
Do you keep your notebooks?
No, I don’t. But the other day I did come across the original lyrics to “Diamonds Are Forever” in my handwriting from years ago. It was interesting because there was a verse that wasn’t used in the film. But I’ve never been one to look back on these things.
What were the unused lyrics?
“Diamonds are forever. I can taste the satisfaction. Flawless physical attraction. Bitter cold, icy fresh, till they rest on the flesh they crave for.”
It’s quite an accomplishment to have written five Bond songs over the course of four decades.
It is. It’s quite extraordinary. I’ve written more than anyone else. I’m delighted to be associated with it. I’ve had a full career—writing songs, themes for movies, musical theater, and shows on Broadway. Yet people always say, “I can’t believe you wrote ‘Thunderball.’” It’s that Bond association. There is a glittering sparkle when you are involved in the world of James Bond. Every generation knows Bond and there is always a Bond film on television. Most films come and go but Bond is always around. So these songs are always around. The songs are perpetuated by the popularity of Bond.
WRITING BOND NOVELS
ANTHONY HOROWITZ
Novelist Raymond Benson observed, “More people have been on the moon than have written James Bond novels.”1 Anthony Horowitz joined Benson in the exclusive club when he was chosen by Ian Fleming Publications to be the eighth author to write a Bond continuation novel.
Horowitz follows in the footsteps of Kingsley Amis (who wrote one Bond novel), John Pearson (“authorized biography”), Christopher Wood (two film adaptions), John Gardner (s
ixteen novels, including two film adaptations), Benson (nine novels, including three film adaptions and three short stories), Sebastian Faulks (one), Jeffrey Deaver (one), and William Boyd (one). The exploits of teenage Bond were explored in five novels and one short story by Charlie Higson and four novels by Steve Cole. Samantha Weinberg has written three novels and a pair of short stories about M’s private secretary Miss Moneypenny, whose first name we learn is Jane. Taken together, the Bond books have sold more than a staggering one hundred million copies.2
Set after the events of Fleming’s Goldfinger, Horowitz’s Trigger Mortis (2015) features the return of gang leader–turned-Bond-ally Pussy Galore and introduces Jai Seung Sing, a sadistic villain who perversely uses a deck of illustrated Korean playing cards to determine the manner of death of his enemies. Enticingly, the novel includes original material written by Fleming, set in the world of Grand Prix, for an episode of an unrealized Bond television series.
Horowitz’s second Bond novel Forever and a Day (2018), a prequel to Fleming’s first Bond adventure Casino Royale, begins with M delivering the eye-catching and arresting line of dialogue, “So, 007 is dead.”3 But fans didn’t have to mourn Bond for long. Before the first chapter concludes, Horowitz reveals that the fallen agent isn’t James Bond but another spy who has been assigned the now-familiar code name. M tasks Bond with finding out who killed the former 007.
Horowitz is also the author of the successful young adult spy series Alex Rider, whose surname is a variation on Bond woman Honey Ryder, and two mysteries inspired by the work of Arthur Conan Doyle: The House of Silk: A Sherlock Holmes Novel (2011) and Moriarty (2014).
How did you prepare to write Trigger Mortis? Did you start by rereading Fleming?
Yes, I had to reread the whole lot. I had previously read Fleming’s books many times throughout my life. They’ve been part of my genetic makeup for as long as I can remember. But in order to do the job, I had to read them in a different way than I had before. I had to read them technically. I had to look at how Fleming achieved what he did. I had to see what Fleming’s mannerisms and tropes were so that I could exactly imitate what he had done before.
Were you also looking for any characters or plots that you could use for your novel—a launching point?
Unlike the other franchise writers who had come before me, I was given an original short story by Fleming called “Murder on Wheels.” It was a treatment for a television series, which I used as a springboard to leap into this world. While reading “Murder on Wheels” and the novels, I was looking for clues that reveal what makes Fleming’s writing so idiosyncratic and special. I had to ask myself why this character has survived so long, why the books are so good, and what clues and secrets are inside of them. I wanted to isolate those secrets and then imitate them. It could be phrases, a couple of words that hinted to me how he wrote, or products that Fleming references.
I have my notebook in front of me now as I’m sitting here, and I’m looking at all the different things that I wrote down.
Would you mind sharing them?
In no particular order: “The herb garden… smiled up at him,” which is a line out of Thunderball (1961). Fleming takes inanimate objects and animates them. He makes them seem real and he makes them seem like participants in the story. He does it all the time. Above that [and also from Thunderball], I’ve got “a room-shaped room with furniture-shaped furniture.” That’s classic Fleming writing. It’s absolute deadpan but there’s a smile in there somewhere. It’s cold-blooded and yet somehow so exactly right.
“Do you want to drink solid or soft?” someone says. That’s Fleming. Here’s another one, “The men laughed various kinds of laughs.” That is out of Thunderball. It’s that same trick he used with the furniture and it’s so Fleming. There are lots and lots of them in my notebook. About fifty or sixty. That’s how I began.
You were soaking up his style and the way he uses language.
His language, his style, and the little tropes that he uses time and time again.
What about his sentence length?
Absolutely. If you read the books carefully, you’ll see that the modulation of the sentences is cleverly done. If you look at the opening of Casino Royale or Goldfinger, the sentences are considered to be Weltschmerz [world ache], which is a part of Fleming’s style, this tiredness with the world. The sentences are long but they’re well-modulated. They’re slightly elegant.
Look at the opening sentence to Trigger Mortis: “It was that moment in the day when the world has had enough.” You got into that Weltschmerz feeling. The world incidentally being personalized just as I showed you in that example I gave you a moment ago. That’s one of his styles.
Then there’s a second style, which is his action style, which I kept in mind while writing the car chase in my book. When I wrote that section, I went to the nearest chase scene I could find in Fleming, which was the sleigh run in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. It’s fast and it’s speedy. Suddenly, the sentences become incredibly short. Sometimes just a few words and they jump around. Instead of getting narrative flow forward, you’re going in and out of Bond’s head, you’re going where he is. The camera is outside him when he’s speeding down the hill but then suddenly you’re right in his thoughts thinking, Hang on, damn you. Don’t let go. It’s staccato, punctuated writing that adds to the tension and excitement.
Did you look to the novels to help answer the question, where do we find Bond? How do I reintroduce Bond in this book, what should his opening scene be?
They vary. Some of the books open straight with the action. Sometimes it’s the blubbery arms of the good life that wrap themselves around him, and he’s in a stasis and waiting for something to happen. In my case, it was clear that the book was going to start two weeks after Goldfinger, and, therefore, I knew exactly where I was going to be both within the canon and within his life. Between missions, it seemed like the best place to begin. But some of Fleming’s books take you into the action faster.
When did you come up with that idea?
As soon as I got the job I decided that for me and for my Bond it had to be within Fleming’s world. It had to be within the canon of the books. For me, the best James Bond novels are the early ones: Live and Let Die (1954), Moonraker (1955), Diamonds Are Forever (1956), From Russia, with Love (1957), Dr. No (1958), and Goldfinger (1959). They are the golden period of about 1954 to 1959. Then after that, you get short stories and the novels Thunderball (1961) and The Spy Who Loved Me (1962), which even Fleming himself said was a mistake.
I love all the books. I’m not criticizing them, but for me, the great ones are the first six or seven, which is what you’d expect. It seemed to me critical that any new Bond novel should take place within those parameters and in that time period. I just simply looked at when he might have had a rest.
I’m looking at my notebook now. Goldfinger takes place in April to June 1957 and then there’s a little gap and we don’t know what he’s up to until May 1958, which is when [the short story] “From a View to a Kill” (1959) takes place. So there you’ve got the time period for Bond to have another mission.
That moment in time also immediately allowed me to think, “What happened to the girl from the last novel?” By and large, when the books end, the relationships ends. But in From Russia, with Love, Tiffany Case is referred to as having had an affair with Bond that lasted a little bit longer than in the previous book Diamonds Are Forever and that it ended unhappily. It seemed an interesting thing to look at that first and to see what happened next.
We know that Bond’s going to eventually end the relationship from the previous novel. But how would he do it and, more importantly, what would he be feeling?
Well, yes and no. One has to be careful when you use that word feeling and ask, what is Bond feeling? By and large, Fleming doesn’t give us the soft center of Bond’s emotions. One of the chapters in Trigger Mortis was criticized in which I wrote that Bond attacks a young man and decides not to
kill him. I have a moment where Bond thinks, this is just a young guy trying to earn a living. But that isn’t part of Bond’s makeup and there’s a danger in over-humanizing him.
The reason he has survived as long as he has is that he is slightly on the edge of humanity. He’s not somebody you want to sit down to have dinner with. He’s not somebody whom you will ever truly know. In that respect, he’s a little bit like Sherlock Holmes. [In The James Bond Dossier (1965), a study of the Bond novels,] Kingsley Amis famously pointed out that Bond has few hobbies. He doesn’t read literature, he doesn’t go to the cinema, and he doesn’t have any particular cultural awareness. He is a man with limited capacity in terms of his humanity. There’s a danger in trying to humanize Bond too much.
If I had written sequences in which he and Pussy Galore had been at each other’s throats, it would’ve been a mistake. The way that the relationship ends is carefully controlled. It’s ennui. He likes her more when she’s in danger in America and when she’s a gangster. When he comes back home and they’re just going out to dinners, to the theater, or doing tourist things, that’s not him.
You couldn’t get too far into his emotional life, but was there anything that you figured that you could reveal about his character?
I thought to myself, for Fleming, where does Bond come from? He comes from two places. The first is World War II. Special executive and military intelligence, a world of secrecy. It’s a world where nobody really knows anybody, where everybody observes fine lines of both rank and of “need to know.” It’s quite a cold and highly focused world. If you’re in the SOE (special operations executive) like Fleming was, you’re not spending your time chatting about what you did the night before. That focus is very much a part of Bond.
I also think Bond harkens back to the nineteenth century to that type of Englishman who Kingsley Amis has identified as the Byronic hero [Romantic hero]. In modern terms, it’s like Clint Eastwood in the Sergio Leone westerns. He’s that same figure who comes from nowhere, who is going nowhere, but who affects everybody and saves everybody while he’s in the room. And Bond is in the tradition of that character. Holmes would be equivalent; he’s the only other British character in fiction who has had the same impact as Bond has, and it’s much the same thing. You don’t know about their parents, you don’t know about their childhood, their friends, or anything like that. They are what they are. They come and they go.
