The James Bond Bedside Companion (37 page)

Quarrel is warm, jovial, and, very simply, fun. There is no prejudice or discrimination in the relationship between Bond and Quarrel. To Bond, Quarrel is more than just a friend or an ally. He represents something genuinely good that is rare in people, and Bond respects this. He has amusing character traits, for example:

Bond smiled to himself at the way Quarrel, like most West Indians, added an 'h' when it wasn't needed and took it off when it was.

(DOCTOR NO, Chapter 4)

This is in reference to Quarrel's previous words about a friend who once "fought wit' a big hoctopus."

Quarrel, like Honey, is intelligent, but lacks education. He is superstitious and naive. He believes in dragons, voodoo, and other mythical frights which are created by the villains in LIVE AND LET DIE and DOCTOR NO to scare people precisely like Quarrel. And sadly, Quarrel has good reason to be frightened. The dragon he has feared becomes a reality in the form of a flamethrower. But Quarrel is a good hand when it comes to a more realistic form of danger. When Bond orders Quarrel to lose a car that is following them, Quarrel grins with excitement; for the first time since he last saw Bond, Quarrel is experiencing action again and loves it.

M is nothing short of a perfect bastard in DOCTOR NO. He begins his scene in the novel in a foul mood, and he doesn't let up. He is angry at 007 for bungling his last assignment, and punishes Bond by stripping him of his beloved Beretta .25.

M swivelled back to face him. "Sorry, James," he said, and
there was no sympathy in his voice. "I know how you like that bit of iron. But I'm afraid it's got to go. Never give a weapon a second chance—any more than a man. I can't afford to gamble with the Double-0 Section. They've got to be properly equipped. You understand that? A gun's more important than a hand or a foot in your job."

(DOCTOR NO, Chapter 2)

Ironically, it's precisely Bond's hands and feet which save him in this adventure: he works the controls of a crane to kill Dr. No, and coincidentally finds his gun with the unconscious pilot of the machine
after
he has done the dirty work

M is at his most tyrannical in this story. He doesn't stand for any floundering from Bond. He also feels that Bond's assignment is a waste of the Service's time and funds, and nothing sets off M like misuse of the Service. DOCTOR NO provides yet another side of the inscrutable M.

HIGHLIGHTS AND OTHER INGREDIENTS

F
ROM RUSSIA, WITH LOVE was a sexual breakthrough in the James Bond novels (being far more provocative and titillating than its predecessors), and DOCTOR NO goes a step further. Honeychile Rider embodies pure sexual fantasy: Bond discovers her naked on the beach of Crab Key. And what does she do when she realizes Bond is watching her? She covers her pubic area and her broken nose—not her exposed breasts. Although the novel still leaves much to the imagination, the antics between the couple, especially in the hotel suite/prison, are highly erotic.

DOCTOR NO is also more violent than the preceding three novels. Quarrel's death is ghastly, and Bond's ordeal in the obstacle course is harrowing. Bond is also forced to kill several times in cold blood, such as when he shoots the guard wading through the river. Bond feels obligated to apologize to Honey after killing the guard, explaining that it "had to be done."

The dragon is also an interesting creation, one that simultaneously teases and fiightens. Still, the obstacle course and the subsequent fight with the giant squid are the major highlights of the story. This sequence is Fleming at his most outrageous. Although the situation is nearly impossible, the conviction and pace with which Fleming writes negates this fault.

Fleming's ability to build suspense is exemplified no better than in the sequence with the centipede. This section is one of the author's most outstanding and thrilling. Bond is asleep in his hotel room in Kingston,
when:

Something had stirred on his right ankle. Now it was moving up the inside of his shin. Bond could feel the hairs on his leg being parted. It was an insect of some sort. A very big one. It was long, five or six inches—as long as his hand. He could feel dozens of tiny feet lightly touching his skin. What was it?

Then Bond heard something he had never heard before—the sound of the hair on his head rasping up on the pillow. Bond analysed the noise. It couldn't be! It simply couldn't! Yes, his hair was standing on end. Bond could even feel the cool air reaching his scalp between the hairs. How extraordinary! How very extraordinary! He had always thought it was a figure of speech. But why? Why was it happening to him?

The thing on his leg moved. Suddenly Bond realized that he was afraid, terrified. His instincts, even before they had communicated with his brain, had told his body that he had a centipede on him.

Bond lay frozen. He had once seen a tropical centipede in a bottle of spirit on the shelf in a museum. It had been pale brown and very flat and five or six inches long—about the length of this one. On either side of the blunt head there had been curved poison claws. The label on the bottle had said that its poison was mortal if it hit an artery. Bond had looked curiously at the corkscrew of dead cuticle and had moved on.

The centipede had reached his knee. It was starting up his thigh. Whatever happened he mustn't move, mustn't even tremble. Bond's whole consciousness had drained down to the two rows of softly creeping feet. Now they had reached his flank. God, it was turning down towards the groin! Bond set his teeth. Supposing it liked the warmth there! Supposing it tried to crawl into the crevices! Could he stand it? Supposing it chose that place to bite? Bond could feel it questing amongst the first hairs. It tickled. The skin on Bond's belly fluttered. There was nothing he could do to control it. But now the thing was turning up and along his stomach. Its feet were gripping tighter to prevent it falling. Now it was at his heart. If it bit there, surely it would kill him. The centipede trampled steadily on through the thin hairs on Bond's right breast up to his collar bone. It stopped. What was it doing? Bond could feel the blunt head questing to and fro. What was it looking for? Was there room between his skin and the sheet for it to get through? Dare he lift the sheet an inch to help it? No. Never! The animal was at the base of his jugular. Perhaps it was intrigued by the heavy pulse there. Christ, if only he could control the pumping of his blood. Damn you! Bond tried to communicate with the centipede. It's nothing. It's not dangerous, that pulse. It means you no harm. Get on out into the fresh air!

As if the beast had heard, it moved on up the column of the neck and into the stubble on Bond's chin. Now it was VL 'ne comei ol 'ins mouth, ticicling madly. On it went, up along the nose. Now he could feel its whole weight and length. Softly Bond closed his eyes. Two by two the pairs of feet, moving alternatively, trampled across his right eyelid. When it got off his eye, should he take a chance and shake it off—rely on its feet slipping in his sweat? No, for God's sake! The grip of the feet was endless. He might shake one lot off, but not the rest

With incredible deliberation the huge insect ambled across Bond's forehead. It stopped below the hair. What the hell was it doing now? Bond could feel it nuzzling at his skin. It was drinking! Drinking the beads of salt sweat Bond was sure of it. For minutes it hardly moved. Bond felt weak with the tension. He could feel the sweat pouring off the rest of his body on to the sheet. In a second his limbs would start to tremble. He could feel it coming on. He would start to shake with an ague of fear. Could he control it could he? Bond lay and waited, the breath coming softly through his open, snarling mouth.

The centipede started to move again. It walked into the forest of hair. Bond could feel the roots being pushed aside as it forced its way along. Would it like it there? Would it settle down? How did centipedes sleep? Curled up or at full length? The tiny millipedes he had known as a child, the ones that always seemed to find their way up the plughole into the empty bath, curled up when you touched them. Now it had come to where his head lay against the sheet. Would it walk out on to the pillow or would it stay on in the warm forest? The centipede stopped. Out! OUT! Bond's nerves screamed at it.

The centipede stirred. Slowly it walked out of his hair on to the pillow.

Bond waited a second. Now he could hear the rows of feet picking softly at the cotton. It was a tiny scraping noise, like soft fingernails.

With a crash that shook the room Bond's body jackknifed out of bed and on to the floor.

(DOCTOR NO, Chapter 6)

T
he seventh James Bond novel marks a turning point in the series. It is a transitional novel, separating the early books from the later ones in that James Bond's character becomes increasingly obsessed with the mortal trappings of life. In GOLDFINGER, Fleming discloses his major character's thoughts more often, thus enabling one to dig deeper into Bond's feelings. As in MOONRAKER, the narrative takes on a tone that is more reflective than suspenseful. As a thriller,
GOLDFINGER is decidedly weak—it lacks suspense, much of the plot is impractical and improbable, and sometimes there is no logic in the sequence of events. However, GOLDFINGER is very successful in terms of characterizations and mood. More is revealed about James Bond than in any of the other novels, and the supporting characters are well-drawn and interesting as well.

The story concerns James Bond's investigation of Aunc Goldfinger, touted as the richest man in England. Goldfinger is suspected of smuggling gold out of England. Bond's job is to discover how he does it. After a prologue in Miami in which Bond learns that Goldfinger cheats at canasta, the agent exposes the scheme and has a brief affair with Goldfinger's secretary, Jill Masterson. Later, in London, Bond is ordered to meet Goldfinger socially in order to spy on him; the agent does this by accepting a challenge for a golf game. Again, Goldfinger attempts to cheat during the game, but Bond wins the match with a little cheating of his own. By means of an ingenious homing device located in 007's Aston Martin, the agent tracks Goldfinger's Rolls-Royce into Northern France. While spying on Goldfinger's factory, Bond learns that gold is melted onto the Rolls-Royce in England and stripped in France. But in the woods near the factory, Bond encounters one Tilly Soames, who is revealed to be Jill Masterson's sister. Tilly is attempting to avenge her sister's death. Goldfinger ordered that Jill be covered from head to toe in gold paint, causing her to suffocate. Bond and Tilly are captured by Goldfinger's Korean bodyguard, Oddjob; but instead of killing the pair, Goldfinger forces them into his employ as "secretaries" for Operation Grand Slam. It is revealed that SMERSH is backing Goldfinger to commit the biggest crime in history: the robbery of Fort Knox. Goldfinger's party is flown to New York, where gang leaders from all over the country are enlisted to help in the operation. Bond takes a risk by writing down the details of Goldfinger's plan and hiding the paper beneath the lavatory seat of Goldfinger's plane. The paper promises a reward to anyone finding the paper and delivering it to Felix Leiter. D-Day finally arrives, but Goldfinger's plan goes awry as seemingly dead soldiers scattered over the area spring to life. Tilly is killed by Oddjob's steel-rimmed bowler hat and Goldfinger and his party escape, even though Operation Grand Slam has failed. The next day, Bond is kidnapped by Goldfinger and strapped into an airplane en route to Russia. But with the help of Pussy Galore, one of the gang leaders who is sweet on Bond, he uses his resourcefulness to escape. Using a knife concealed in the heel of his shoe, Bond breaks a window in the pressurized cabin, causing Oddjob to be sucked out into oblivion. As the plane plummets, he and Goldfinger lock their hands around each other's throats—but 007 emerges the victor. The plane crash-lands near a friendly weather station, and Bond and Pussy are rescued.

STYLE AND THEMES

G
OLDFINGER is Fleming's longest, densest novel. The book, like MOONRAKER, is divided into three parts, entitled respectively, "Happenstance," "Coincidence," and "Enemy Action." These titles refer to Goldfinger's words alluding to the three occasions of meeting Bond: "once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and a third time is enemy action." The three parts of the book, then, relate to the encounters between Bond and Goldfinger in these terms. The main gambit of the novel (the plan to rob Fort Knox), though, only takes place in the third part. While the first two-thirds of the book contains some interesting segments, that part has no real bearing on Goldfinger's plans per se.

The story is much more episodic than previous books, even DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER. There is no logic to the rapid changing of locales throughout the novel. The major switch of territory (Europe to New York) is especially difficult to accept. In this sequence, Bond and Tilly Masterson are held captive by Goldfinger. Bond offers his and Tilly's services if Goldfinger will spare their lives. Goldfinger accepts the offer, which is not only stupid on his part, but unbelievable. First, Bond, a few minutes before this, attacked and attempted to strangle Goldfinger. Second, it seems obvious that Tilly's only reason for being there is to avenge the death of her sister, Jill. Why would Goldfinger want to keep the two of them around? He claims it's because he needs two English-speaking people to help him with the planning of Operation Grand Slam. If this is true, it seems SMERSH would have provided the personnel.