When
I was a teenager, I read all fourteen Ian Fleming books about James Bond, Agent
007. It was the ultimate high-class pulp fiction, and the books sold in the
millions. Most people in the Western world (and millions in the non-Western
world) have seen a James Bond film or read one of the novels. As I recently went
through a book titled The Man Who Saved
Britain: A Personal Journey into the
Disturbing World of James Bond by Simon Winder, a study of the sociological
and political forces that created James Bond and made him so popular, I came
across some speculation on why Bond is such a memorable character and why he
was so popular.
Winder
thinks Bond came about in reaction to Britain’s decline in power after World
War II. The British won the war but came out broke, exhausted, and weary. The
United States replaced England as the world power. England went into political
and economic decline. Its empire of colonies evaporated. This nation, once the
most powerful in the world, became an economically depressed, run-of-the-mill,
minor-league country.
In
the midst of this gloom and doom, the character of James Bond appeared. Though
Britain had declined as a powerful nation, someone was working behind the
scenes to save the world. Secret Agent 007 did not, in the books, attract a lot
of attention, but he stopped destructive evil time and time again. He was a
deadly fighter, as we would expect, but he was a lot of more. Besides being a
hidden champion, he was also a remarkable character. Readers loved him and were
intrigued by him. Writers can learn a lot from the character Ian Fleming
created. Here is a partial list and some notes on the particular items about
Bond that caused readers to be fascinated by him.
In
all types of writing, characters need to be defined. They should have habits,
preferences, and likes that the reader can recognize. They should be presented
consistently through a work or a series of works centering on that character.
The reader should know what the character will do in a given situation. In
reading about the figures you as writers have created, your reader should
experience the pleasure of recognition. Recognition always occurred in the
James Bond novels.
I
have written and published thirty stories about a character named Sossity
Chandler, a female rock star. Whiskey is her favorite drink. She loves the Rolling
Stones and often does covers of their songs at her concerts. She lives in
Michigan and likes it so much she stays there rather than living in New York,
LA, or Nashville. Her hits are pop hits, but her greatest love is the blues and
she supplements her popular albums with “art” albums where she does blues by
Robert Johnson, Son House, and Memphis Minnie. “For Christ’s
sake” is the oath
she uses more than any other. In her concerts she does the first thirty minutes
with her band, does a solo segment with acoustic guitar, and then brings the
band out for the last five or six songs. If you read the stories I have written
about her, you will know these things, encounter them consistently through the
sequence of stories, and enjoy coming across them when they occur in the text.
It is the pleasure of recognition. Writers would do well to follow Fleming
in this.
Bond has convictions. He is convinced that the British are right
and the Soviets are wrong. He thinks freedom and self-determination are an
inherent right all human beings should know. He thinks people should be free
and democracy is superior to totalitarianism.
In
our age of ambiguity, in the era of the anti-hero, many writers create
characters with questionable motives. They can’t quite be trusted. Their
loyalties are uncertain. The reader never knows where the character’s loyalty
lies.
A
bit of ambiguity can work, but readers like good characters who are truly good,
loyal characters who show loyalty, courageous characters who show courage;
conversely, they want evil characters that are evil and despicable character
who may be despised. Fleming always
supplies these things, and this is what made his novels popular.
We
hear a great deal about the chimeric nature of virtue. Good people can be evil;
marginalized people can be good. But this kind of postmodern ambiguity—the
virtuous swindler who trumps the corrupted, thieving clergyman; the stripper
with the heart of gold who exposes the sadomasochistic Mother Superior—have been
done to death. Readers still long for truly virtuous characters who oppose
truly evil characters.
More
to come on Bond as a character and a template.
For a study in character, check out my full-length novel, The Sorceress of the Northern Seas.
If you would like to read a story about Sossity Chandler, The Loss of Good, published in Amarillo Bay is a good place to start; or the story in Out of Time in Intellectual Refuge.
Check out my Writer's Page for other choices.
More on this topic to come!
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