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[MHazard]

Seeing that my first review caused such extensive discussion, following is my review of the next story in FYWR, Ryan Scott's

All's Hell That Ends Well

Mr. Scott's tale harkens to the Bond of The Living Daylights and the beginning of OHMSS, an era I find the most interesting. He pulls off an almost seemless Fleming style of prose illustrated nicely by his reflections of Geneva which harken back to Fleming's pronouncements in Thrilling Cities (from which they may have come). Frequently if you didn't know you weren't reading Fleming, you could believe that you were. Once and a while Mr. Scott seems to cross into direct lifting from Fleming, for example the villain's hands are described as seeming like "large crabs that had crept from the shell of his coat sleeves." It is a wonderful visual image and takes nothing away from the story but, of course, left me wondering if perhaps he and Largo should join the Crab Hands Club. Not surprisingly, Bond also imagines that the villain is covered with coarse hair, which disgusts him. On the other hand, Bond did have a habit of imaging that (Eastern European?) people he disliked were covered with coarse hair so perhaps this can be forgiven.

[MHazard]

Seeing that my first review caused such extensive discussion, following is my review of the next story in FYWR, Ryan Scott's

All's Hell That Ends Well

Mr. Scott's tale harkens to the Bond of The Living Daylights and the beginning of OHMSS, an era I find the most interesting. He pulls off an almost seemless Fleming style of prose illustrated nicely by his reflections of Geneva which harken back to Fleming's pronouncements in Thrilling Cities (from which they may have come). Frequently if you didn't know you weren't reading Fleming, you could believe that you were. Once and a while Mr. Scott seems to cross into direct lifting from Fleming, for example the villain's hands are described as seeming like "large crabs that had crept from the shell of his coat sleeves." It is a wonderful visual image and takes nothing away from the story but, of course, left me wondering if perhaps he and Largo should join the Crab Hands Club. Not surprisingly, Bond also imagines that the villain is covered with coarse hair, which disgusts him. On the other hand, Bond did have a habit of imaging that (Eastern European?) people he disliked were covered with coarse hair so perhaps this can be forgiven.

[MHazard]

Seeing that my first review caused such extensive discussion, following is my review of the next story in FYWR, Ryan Scott's

All's Hell That Ends Well

Mr. Scott's tale harkens to the Bond of The Living Daylights and the beginning of OHMSS, an era I find the most interesting. To say that the best part of the story is the title is a compliment, not an insult and will be understood by anyone who reads the story. He pulls off an almost seamless Fleming style of prose illustrated nicely by his reflections on Geneva which harken back to Fleming's pronouncements in Thrilling Cities (from which they may have come) and Bond's ever present struggle with boredom. Frequently if you didn't know you weren't reading Fleming, you could believe that you were; Once and a while Mr. Scott seems to cross into direct lifting from Fleming, for example the villain's hands are described as seeming like "large crabs that had crept from the shell of his coat sleeves."It is a wonderful visual image and takes nothing away from the story but, of course, left me wondering if perhaps he and Largo should join the Crab Hands Club. Not surprisingly, Bond also imagines that the villain is covered with coarse hair, which disgusts him. On the other hand, Bond did have a habit of imaging that (Eastern European?) people he disliked were covered with coarse hair and this did disgust him so perhaps this can be forgiven.

In any event, one shouldn't be unduly crabby about Mr. Dixon's story because it works so well as both a Fleming tribute (reminding us why we loved Ian's writing so much) and as a look into Bond's inner life which, Mr. Faulks nothwithstanding, all literary Bond fans know is a large part of what makes his character so interesting. As a pure adventure story it perhaps works less well as it takes its time getting to the "action" and Bond's dispatch of the villain seems somewhat contrived. I suspect that the author would maintain that the real action is inside Bond's head, just as The Living Daylights is not a story about the moment in time when Bond pulls the trigger.

A few things stood out for me. Early, Bond has a chauvinistic, but quite keeping within Fleming's worldview, analysis of the mind-set of the female spy. Mr. Dixon will not be invited to a NOW meeting, but you could imagine this coming right out of MR or FRWL, which is obviously the effect intended and, more importantly, entirely consistent with the character Fleming created. I was also wondering during the scene where Bond receives his assignment M is reluctant to come right out and order a murder. I haven't had a chance to review FYEO and TLD but my recollection is that in For Your Eyes Only, Bond steps up and tries to make it easier for M to order a murder, but that in another story, it might have been The Living Daylights there is a note that M likes to come right out with the ordering of an elimination to remove the guilt from the operative. Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to check them, so I leave that to others. I also have a feeling that the Walther PPK doesn't come with a silencer as I recall Major Boothroyd disliking silencers when he recommends the Walther in Doctor No. It may be that Boothroyd just disliked them for a Baretta. Given Mr. Scott's careful attention to detail I suspect he knows the answer and got it right.

Overall, Alls Hell That Ends Well is a wonderful read for Fleming fans desiring another Bond adventure. The author clearly loves Bond as much as we do and sets a high bar for the rest of us in our fan fiction.

Addendum to my review of Between the Shadow and the Soul

There is one part of that story that I am critical of. It involves the ending and there is no way to set it forth without spoiling it. If anyone wants to know, send me a communique. In Mr. Dixon's defense, my criticism could also be applied to some Fleming endings, so he's really got nothing to apologize for.

[MkB]

Thanks MHazard!
Please don't mistake our bewitched attention for a lack of interest in your reviews: I've read them carefully, and I'm sure that if discussion is slow to come, it's only because we're all ashamed to pop in the conversation after such thorough reviews.

If I may add something: here's the reference you were talking about, from the short stories. In The Living Daylights indeed, M is said to send his men to a killing putting on a "fierce, cold act of command" to take off their shoulders a part of the guilt:

"Where do I come in, sir?" But James Bond had guessed the answer, guessed why M. was showing his dislike of the whole business. This was going to be dirty work, and Bond, because he belonged to the Double-O Section, had been chosen for it. Perversely, Bond wanted to force M. to put it in black and white. This was going to be bad news, dirty news, and he didn't want to hear it from one of the section officers, or even from the Chief of Staff. This was to be murder. All right. Let M. bloody well say so.

"Where do you come in, 007?" M. looked coldly across the desk. "You know where you come in. You've got to kill this sniper. And you've got to kill him before he gets 272. That's all. Is that understood?" The clear blue eyes remained cold as ice. But Bond knew that they remained so only with an effort of will. M. didn't like sending any man to a killing. But, when it had to be done, he always put on this fierce, cold act of command. Bond knew why. It was to take some of the pressure, some of the guilt, off the killer's shoulders.

So now Bond, who knew these things, decided to make it easy and quick for M. He got to his feet. "That's all right, sir. I suppose the Chief of Staff has got all the gen. I'd better go and put in some practice. It wouldn't do to miss." He walked to the door.

But in For Your Eyes Only, M's situation is different, as he is sort of personally involved, and it is Bond who comes and tries to take the guilt off of M's shoulders:

Now Bond realised why M was troubled, why he wanted someone else to make the decision. Because these had been friends of M. Because a personal element was involved, M had worked on the case by himself. And now it had come to the point when justice ought to be done and these people brought to book. But M was thinking: is this justice, or is it revenge? No judge would take a murder case in which he had personally known the murdered person. M wanted someone else, Bond, to deliver judgement. There were no doubts in Bond's mind. He didn't know the Havelocks or care who they were. Hammerstein had operated the law of the jungle on two defenceless old people. Since no other law was available, the law of the jungle should be visited upon Hammerstein. In no other way could justice be done. If it was revenge, it was the revenge of the community.
Bond said: "I wouldn't hesitate for a minute, 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."

[MicroGlobeOne]

Yes, thank you, MHazard, for taking the time to write these reviews for us! It's interesting to hear your thoughts and I appreciated all of your comments on my story, "Between the Shadow and the Soul." I have to admit that I am guilty of being a bit overzealous, perhaps, in my attempts to emulate Fleming's narratives. Nevertheless, I'm very glad to hear that you enjoyed the tale.

That being said, I do want to make sure that there isn't any confusion regarding the author of "All's Hell that Ends Well," despite the fact that my name has been linked to that story above. It's a wonderful story, and Mr. Scott deserves all of the credit.

I am hoping to post my own comments on each of these short stories in due course. As soon as I am done reading the collection, I'll be posting.

[MHazard]

Two things:

First, my apologies for juxtaposing Mr. Dixon and Mr. Scott's names at one point in my review of All's Hell that Ends Well. I'm well aware of who wrote what, but probably mis-typed because I did add a brief addendum to my review of Between the Shadow and the Soul at the end of my review of All's Hell that Ends Well.

Second, thank you MkB for your retrieval of the passages I was thinking of. Both were exactly what I had a faint recollection of. Which leads me to a further literary speculation. In All's Hell That Ends Well, M's demeanor in ordering the killing is between his cold blooded blunt approach in The Living Daylights, where the killing is a necessary professional service matter and his more evasive and embarassed approach in For Your Eyes Only where the killing could be seen to be a personal matter. Perhaps this is because there is both a professional and a personal aspect to the killing M is ordering (I don't want to spell this out further in case someone hasn't yet read the story). It would not surprise me at all if Mr. Scott, with his attention to Bond detail, made this conscious choice. Or perhaps it's just a good after the fact explanation.

[MHazard]

Which brings us to my review of Thomas Clink's

The Blunt Instrumental

This is my favorite story in the collection, which is amazing, given that I disagree with Clink's take on Bond. The reason is that Clink has a heckuva story to tell. He gets to the point quickly and the ending is quite simply haunting. One could argue whether this is even a Bond story. Bond is, of course, in it and I'm sure Clink thinks it's a Bond story, but one could argue that the most powerful part has nothing to do with Bond.

On the other hand, one could argue that it's a story about Bond's reaction to outside events. But, of course, the events most noteworthy are ones that Bond has no direct knowledge of. Moreover, Clink's Bond doesn't in my view reconcile easily with Fleming's Bond. The story seems to take place around the era of Doctor No and Goldfinger based on statements on how long Bond has been in the 00 section, the presence of Loelia Ponsonby, and references to Tiffany Case. That era Bond is not the worldweary Bond of The Living Daylights and OHMSS. Here, Bond isn't just weary, but downright bleak, a word which others have used to describe Clink's fiction in general. There is a reference about "when work began to poison his soul". My view is that's backwards. In Fleming's world it's lack of work that poisons Bond's soul. When he's on assignment, especially a particularly dangerous one, is when he feels fully alive. Clink's Bond appears almost suicidal. Although there are echoes of the statement in Moonraker about when Bond was depressed he knew he'd be killed on the job, Clink's Bond seems far more morbid than that.

It's also hard to reconcile finicky opinionated James with a character who rescues a couch from his neighbor or whose furniture doesn't really "speak of him". I would envision Bond having strong furniture opinions. One could, however, also take the position that Bond's furniture is like his eating habits when at home (cold roast beef and potato salad). One other note also seems not right. When the 00 agents are together one inquires after Felix Leiter. It's hard to imagine Bond committing a lapse of security by gossiping about his former (and in reserve) CIA friend.

Nonetheless, this is a marvelous story. Clink had a story to tell and he told it very well. His other characters are well crafted and the concluding dinner action is fantastic. There is no doubt that he has thought out his Bond's character fully and if his Bond isn't my Bond it reflects a conscious choice on Clink's part. Moreover, his Bond is exactly the right Bond for the story that he was trying to tell. If the best way to honor Ian Fleming's memory is to use his character to tell a great story, then Clink has succeeded in spades.

[MkB]

It's also hard to reconcile finicky opinionated James with a character who rescues a couch from his neighbor or whose furniture doesn't really "speak of him". I would envision Bond having strong furniture opinions. One could, however, also take the position that Bond's furniture is like his eating habits when at home (cold roast beef and potato salad).

Although I acknowledge that the rescued couch sounds strange, I quite understand the point Clink makes when he writes that his furniture doesn't really "speak of him".
Well, arguably, your furniture always speak of you, even if you don't want them to (be it in how you care about it, or how you don't)
But I quite see Bond's flat as a rather impersonal place. I mean, I don't picture an old sidebpard inherited from his aunt in a corner, or a family portrait on the wall, or small curios brought back from his exotic missions on a chest of drawers, etc.
He certainly has strong furniture opinions: I picture his flat as very tidy, very well-designed and comfortable, but also as something an interior designer could have done: nothing "involving", if you see what I mean?
This reminded me of another description of Bond's flat (actually his bedroom) in another fan fiction, that conveys about the same feeling:

She looked around the bedroom by daylight, lying on her back on the comfortable mattress. It was incredibly tidy, such a stark contrast with how her own place looked. There was nothing lying on the floor, no open drawers with contents hanging halfway down to the floor, no messy closets. It also hit her that, apart from the king-size bed, there was nothing about the room that spoke words of welcome to a second person. James Bond. The perpetual bachelor.

(from Fenna Geelhoed's Past Bearing, part 2 of The Circle Trilogy)

[MattofSteel]

These reviews are certainly interesting - I'm trying to skim them...I am DEFINITELY getting to the collection over the long weekend.

[Trident]

As I will be separated from www for the better part of next week and the feedback is already coming in, it's high time now I start giving my own thoughts about 'Forever Yours With Regret'.

Between The Shadow And The Soul


This story begins with a particular strong scene, the picture of Bond's candlelight dinner with the foxy Celeste Bieber amidst the debris and destruction caused by the biggest earthquake ever recorded, the Valdivia quake of 22nd of May 1960. As this dinner, acording to Mr Dixon's text, happens one week after the actual catastrophe, the opening scene could be 28th of May 1960. Ian Fleming's 52nd birthday. Very nice nod!

Now the setting: Chile is doubtlessly an adventure itself and I'd have wanted to see Bond visiting this exotic location much earlier. But Mr Dixon cleverly avoids too much tourist sights, instead bringing us right into the heart of a natural disaster, giving us readers no time for idle snapshots with our mental cameras. I'm really curious, Brian: how did you get the idea for the setting? It's most extraordinary and I simply loved it! Truly off the beaten path and giving a great stage for the things to come.

I also like 1960's Chile for its qualities as a political hot bed, one decade before CIA decided to launch its full-scale South-America 'install-your-own-dictatorship'-policy in Santiago. The background on the information broker is very credible, Bond's mission to try and bring him in a sound and sensible assignment althogether.

That brings us directly to the heart of the matter, Gebhard Ivo Hevia. Now this is a truly villainous naming for a most ungentlemanly being. I fully agree with MHazard, there's absolutely no need for monkey paws here. Hevia's deformation is his boasting vanity. I particularly liked his reference to 'revolutionary' causes:

'Information warfare is the only means to achieve revolution in modern society.'

That was a nice one and it serves to depict Hevia as a true beliver in his 'cause-of-the-week'-socıalısm. I always wondered why Bond didn't encounter these types more often. He has fought many communist agents, but none of them seems to have been interested in the theoretic basis of the system. A nice change here with an adversary who actually claims to aid revolution.

Now the torture scene does give readers the creeps, that's for sure. All the more so as Hevia is really not particularly interested in any stuff Bond might blabber out once Hevia is through with giving him the shashlik-treatment. Really most inconvenient.

Along the lines of Bond's encounter with Hevia 007 gets lots of chances to reflect on his nightmarish surroundings, his assingment, his enemy and last not least his femal interest. We get a precise language that, while clearly nodding to Fleming, never merely mimics his phrases and descriptions. Instead Mr Dixon chose his own way into the Bond-tone, giving an example of how to avoid parroting. There is actually never a clumsy or awkward moment. Very good!

Now Celeste Bieber really plays a very special role in this one. Apart from being in more than one way a desirable, sexualy attractive woman, she also has something foxy, almost mischievous about her, that makes not only us readers hesitate. I liked Bond's reaction to this, as it's a change from the usual way things play out in this genre.

Last, but not least, I'd like to congratulate on the title. Pablo Neruda's line would certainly have appealed to Fleming. I daresay he'd have envied you for choosing them.


Thanks for this fine tale!

[MHazard]

And now onward to Steve Coombs' effort:

Eyes Without A Face

Steve Coombs (known on cb.net as Scrambled Eggs), having finished locating and posting Donald Twain's until recently lost manuscript of Count Diable, somehow found time to provide us with a Fleming like story set in Paris of blackmail, death, a beautiful woman, and a vivid villain. The best of Coombs' fiction always provides a Fleming like atmosphere, vivid descriptions, and emotional complexity. (see for example, On a Night Like This or Watching Girls Go By). His most recent effort is no exception. If he doesn't quite achieve the heights achieved by Twain in his 60's continuation novel, he certainly provides a worthy tribute to Ian's memory.

As always, the descriptions, both of people and places are a strength. In a few words, his villain Nievans is described in a manner, both more believable and more vivid than the unfortunate monkey hand relied on by Faulks (I wouldn't keep harping on this, but the monkey hand's just bad) as having an "unusual hooked nose that made him look rather like a cartoon from Punch." Coombs also gives us one of the most unplesant beautiful women James has ever been subjected to, Felicity Crandon. Poor Bond is forced to babysit her. He does not trust her and a romantic liasion is out of the question. On top of all that, he is subjected to her sarcasm, "you don't have to stay, in fact, I insist you don't. Go out, get plastered and pick up a tart."

The best of his story is the ending which is reminiscent of the first chapter of Goldfinger. Faulks and others to the contrary, Bond has an inner life, which Coombs has always been interested in exploring. The one real criticism I would have of the story is that the themes developed in the ending could perhaps have been woven more carefully into the fabric of the story. To some extent, it seems tacked on. This does not mean that it doesn't fit, only that the reader is not given prior warning that Bond is wrestling with these issues (which is as far as I will go, so as not to give the ending away). The ending, and Bond's musings, ring true, however, as they are entirely consistent with what we know of the character from Fleming.

One very minor criticism, which should indicate how much Coombs gets right. At one point, Bond steals a steak knife from a cafe for later use. We know from Fleming that Bond frequently carried a commando knife strapped to his forearm (FRWL) and sometimes carried heel throwing knives in his shoes (OHMSS). It seems likely that he would already have a knife or else would acquire a more weapon like knife somewhere.

Overall and not surprisingly, Coombs has given us a well written, Fleming like, Bond adventure with both action and emotional complexity. A wonderful read for any of us who wish there was more Fleming Bond to read.

[Jim]

Have just read through all these again and am still thrilled.

[Trident]

Best Traditions

Now this is a story that, apart from being a suspenseful adventure with lots of Fleming-reminiscences, really has a substantial morality subtext that actually goes a long way in defining Bond and his actions. While placed in the middle of a serious dilemma that doesn't offer any easy way out, Bond is forced to make a decision and willing to take the consequences. This makes for a particularly thought-provoking entry, exploring a difficult terrain that's left untouched in most stories of this genre.

Bond's mission is to contact a member of the Chicago-mob to get vital information regarding Provisional IRA-arms trafficking from the United States to Northern Ireland. This is by far not as out of character with Bond as perhaps some might think. Fleming himself has on several occasions hinted at the shady nature of the Secret Service business, although he has for the most part kept Bond on the brighter side of affairs. Just think of the references to dealings with the Red Lightning Tong and Blofeld's own SPECTRE (although anonymously) in 'Thunderball'. In espionage you can get all shades of any colour as long as it's grey.

Bond's contact turns out to be an extremely large amount of the opera-gangster variety, coming complete with the most improbable name of Garlicki, expensively loud and tasteless cloths, ex-police bodyguard and beautiful young mistress. For Bond, everything in Garlicki is too much. Too much fat spilling over the sides of his chairs, too much food stuffed through his, for once, too little mouth, too much sentimental reminiscences of the good old Capone days.

But before Bond can get bored with his contact, Garlicki takes him on a drive down Chicago's Memory Lane to the site of the Valentine's Day massacre, during which he explains his proposal and the details of his deal with Bond's service. And, while turning out the be costly, it also seems that Garlicki made an offer neither Bond nor the Service can refuse.

'We want you to be satisfied customers. We would like to establish a mutually beneficial relationship. You can help us with some things we need and we have info you can't get anyplace else. Everybody makes out. What could be better?'

Coming from the mobster Garlicki, these are amongst the scariest words I can imagine. When dining with the Mob you don't need an especially long spoon. But you better have guts of iron, as it turns out only too soon.

What I find particularly haunting in the scenes that follow is that Bond isn't actually asked to commit a murder, only to witness it. That Bond decides to act in this situation is a defining moment in my opinion, in tune with Fleming's own works. Somewhere in his notes Fleming has written down an idea about Bond having to kill a fellow agent in order to keep his cover intact. For some reason, Fleming never used this idea in this form. The closest he ever came to it was Bond denying Shaun Campbell in 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service', effectively signing his death warrant. The situation Jon Karon invented is not exactly the same, the potential victim/victims no fellow or enemy agents. But I don't think this really makes the difference here. Bond needs a reason to kill, and one that mustn't be too abstract in his opinion. And if he decides that somebody hasn't yet deserved to die he simply isn't willing to overcome his moral misgivings. Mind you, it concerns his willingness, not his basic ability to do so.

This is what sets Bond apart from the cold-blooded killer. Not that he can't behave like one if the situation calls for it. But whenever this is the case, it's still Bond who has to deal with the after-effects. That's something the cold-blooded killer wouldn't have to be afraid of, as there wouldn't be any after-effects.

Bond is fully aware that his decision, apart from causing a deadly fight with three armed enemies and effectively closing any way to ever again gain information from American mobsters, can also lead to his ultimate resignation from the Service and perhaps even to legal consequences. Still, this doesn't affect his conviction. Yes, he's fearing the consequences, but no, he doesn't regret his decision.

I particularly like M's reaction during the debriefing. There is the usual ill-tempered, angry old man, giving Bond a severe dressing-down. But there is also the commanding officer that is proud that his man, despite having to remain functional in a basically inhuman trade, still has got left enough of a conscience to keep from becoming an automaton that could as well have worn an SS-uniform.

I have only one minor nitpicking complaint (and may be perfectly wrong there, as I'm no expert): is the IRA-arms MacGuffin not a little bit early for the time? The Hoffa reference seems to indicate a mid-60's setting, while the Provo-IRA started business in '69 and probably got most of its US-arms not before 71. But this is really only my nitpicking streak, and hasn't kept me from relishing the story.

Best Traditions is a stunningly fine written piece that delivers vintage-Bond with many nice references to Fleming's work which I thoroughly enjoyed! Thanks for a great story!

[MHazard]

Matt Kriter's submission provides the title for the entire collection:

FOREVER YOURS WITH REGRET

This story concerns in part, the emotional victims of Bond's womanizing ways, and implies at least that Bond himself is one of these victims. It takes place in Quebec City, including the quite real and incredibly Bond appropriate Chateau Frontenac (where I have personally instructed the bartender in the art of the Vesper) and concerns Bond's mission to eliminate a Quebec separatist terrorist. This mission, is, however, the backdrop for a quite different drama, concerning the collateral damage of Bond's emotional detachment.

The villain's girl, Sydni, has the mis-fortune of falling for Bond, quite hard, and undoubtedly more than is reasonable. It does not appear that Bond has promised her a future to obtain her assistance, but once he has obtained what he needs he is quite brutal with her, observing "Regret is unprofessional." Kriter's Bond is, however, neither as ruthless nor as lacking self-reflection as he might pretend. Despite the unprofessionality of regret, he unprofessionally waits to kill his target until he can find out if Sydni, a woman he is not in love with, has, in fact, betrayed him. In between we have an intense hand to hand fight in his hotel room, vividly portrayed and action packed. Followed by a line which would be perfect for Connnery's Bond, but perhaps a little too movie-like for the Fleming Bond, "Sorry. Dealing with the bellboy."

Following the final confrontation, a brooding Bond seems to conclude that he can cause death by either falling in love or refusing to do so. There is a strong sense of futility in Kriter's Bond who notes ruefully that, "It was a cruel practice to submit oneself to thoughts of alternatives."

Although the writing is always solid, at times Kriter perhaps tries to jam a little too much into one story. Despite being the second most important character, next to Bond, Sydni doesn't feel entirely fully formed. Similarly, although an extensive backstory is provided, the villain Gristeaux, didn't for me, entirely come alive. But Kriter's Bond did, and that's what's most important here. At the conclusion of the story, readers can debate whether Bond is being too hard on himself (I think he is) or whether Kriter's Bond is consistent with Fleming's (you could argue that one back and forth) or even whether Kriter's Bond is the missing link between Fleming and the "you're finished" Bond of Faulks (though Faulks would still have to explain where Kriter's Bond had his lobotomy prior to DMC). But the essential point is that Kriter gives us a Bond you can sink your teeth into. Regret is unprofessional but Kriter's Bond is Forever Yours With Regret.

[MHazard]

Now on to John Lam's story

THE BIRTH OF EVIL

Mr. Lam has undertaken a task with a high degree of difficulty. He attempts to use the Bond story format to tell a story that really is not about James Bond. This is reminiscent of Fleming's story Quantum of Solace which is in many ways, not a James Bond story at all. In The Birth of Evil, James Bond is both literally and figuratively outside the crucial action. He moves the action forward by providing the main character, Charles Billings with information and he frames the story by relating it. Lam's Bond is a story-teller, and to a far greater extent than I can recall ever seeing him in any other print version. Has any woman in any other Bond story, ever said to him, "Do I sense another of your stories coming?" This is not to say that Bond does not take action, but that the action he takes is not essential to the story. Bond is only essential to the story in that he serves the role of providing information to others.

This is also a post-Fleming Bond. The era is not clear, but my guess is the early 80's of John Gardner. I base this on two facts: 1. M is a woman; and 2.: the villains are KGB agents from the Soviet Union. I imagine Lam's Bond drives a Saab. It is also possible that he looks like Pierce Brosnan.

In any event, the real action centers on a story of love, deceit, and betrayal involving the local MI-6 agent, Charles Billings and his girlfriend, Petra. The story illustrates the point that, "it just takes the right provocation to bring the claws out of the meekest person." But, is Bond correct, does this represent the "birth of evil" or simply any one of us pushed to the breaking point? This appears to be the main theme of the story that Lam wishes to leave us with and it is the effects of events on Billings not Bond that tells this story.

Appreciating the difficulty of the task that Mr. Lam set for himself, I do have a few Bond geek quibbles. The first is that the whole story consists of Bond engaging in one giant lapse of security. He is relating the story to a girl in Jamaica and providing her with large amounts of classified secret intelligence information. Not only would Fleming's Bond not do this but any agent who did would not only be kicked out of the service but one supposes prosecuted under the Official Secrets Act. Also, Bond notes that he has to be careful because the female M disapproves of his womanizing. Of course, it is well documented that Sir Miles also strongly disapproved of Bond's womanizing.

My final comments were to suggest that the epilogue was unnecessary and detracts from the point that Mr. Lam was trying to make. As I reflected on it further, however, I realize that actually it might be important as its events suggest perhaps that we havent' witnessed the Birth of Evil afterall. Readers can draw their own conclusions when they finish this complex, atypical Bond piece.

[MHazard]

With apologies for my extended absence, my reviews of the remaining stories in Forever Yours With Regret continues with Trident's offering:

REPELLANT AFFAIR

This is the most aptly named story in the collection. Almost everything in this story is repellant. Bond's assignment, the villain, the torture scene, Bond's escape, and the girl, are all, repellant. Bond's calmness in the face of the horror that surrounds him makes for a fascinating and different Bond story.

Trident sets his story in present day but is using a Fleming based Bond. M is still a man and Bill Tanner appears. He avoids a lot of Bond cliches, which some of us, myself included tend to fall back on (no commas of hair, hot showers followed by ice cold ones, no cigarettes with three gold bands, etc.) and generally provides little of Bond's inner thought process. Unlike Faulks' Bond, one doesn't get the impression that Bond has no thoughts, but merely that Trident has chosen not to share them with us. This is most evident at the end, where the reader is virtually invited to speculate on Bond's motivations and reactions when the last repellant facts are revealed. In some ways, Trident's work almost screams to be filmed as the story repeatedly allows the reader to speculate as to Bond's emotional reactions to the events. In other words, Trident leaves it to the reader to reach their own conclusions about how Bond copes with the horror he is exposed to. If you believe he reaches for a drink after it's all over, that's fine, but Trident's not going to show it to you.

Bond's assignment is to assasinate a Russian mobster who is also a valued source of information for the CIA. The conflict between what is good for Britain and what is good for the US is slightly reminscent of You Only Live Twice where Bond attempted to get the Japanese to share Magic 44 despite the opposition of the CIA. Trident hints that Bond finds this assignment repellant, but does not spell out his inner misgivings. No reflections in a double bourbon here. The villain, Slava Zaitseff is half Serbian, half Russian, and all monster. His personal predillections make painting girls gold seem like an amusing hobby. There is a torture scene in this story that almost makes one long for the carpet beater of LeChiffre. Bond's escape is believable, but also one of the hardest to read and imagine without cringing. It is, simply, horrible. At the end of the story, there are two final surprises, that make the reader wonder how Bond can cope with all the horror. There must be a lot of feelings being repressed. Trident doesn't tell us how, he simply leaves the reader thinking.

Two minor points. One, being of a certain age, I appreciate Trident describing a woman of 40 as one of the "most erotic" women Bond had ever seen. The second, is a small criticism, that some of the backstory of the villain and a minor character, the German dentist, might more interestingly be told by quoting the service dossier directly (as Fleming did in The Man With the Golden Gun and Casino Royale) or by having a character brief Bond on the backstory. I consider this a very minor criticism in a well written story.

Overall, Repellant Affair, avoids cliches, provides a unique portrayal of Bond, has a large dose of action, and leaves the reader thinking. Ironically, the most repellant of stories is a damn fine read.

[MkB]

Another fine review, MHazard!

There is a torture scene in this story that almost makes one long for the carpet beater of LeChiffre. Bond's escape is believable, but also one of the hardest to read and imagine without cringing. It is, simply, horrible.

Exactly my thoughts while reading the story. It must be the most horrible torture scene I've read in a Bond story (and I mean this in a good way). Trident, I think your great idea there was to put Bond in a situation in which, basically, he has to

Spoiler

be his own torturer to survive

. It gave me the creeps!

[Trident]

Thank you very, very much for your kind (too kind, if anything) words, MHazard and MkB! Great if you enjoyed it! Apart from the torture scene, of course. Thou shalt cringe when reading that.

Having read all of those quite literally fantastic stories that 'Forever Yours, With Regret' incorporates, I feel I owe you an explanation as to how and why my entry became what it eventually turned out be and why it incorporates so many shortcomings.

First of all, I'm an extremely slow writer. And I mean slooooooow. The original idea for this story dates back to 1991, when I read an article about Russian 'businessmeny' slowly taking over the best parts of Karlovy Vary, a town I visited in the July of 1989. Back then, it used to be a terribly run down spa-city that had most of its sights either covered with mould, facades crumbling and decaying, or raped by socıalıst architects with their modern concrete monsters that passed as 'workers architecture' in forty-something years of communism. I couldn't really imagine what a hot spot this city should have become since then.

Said article stated that a particularly wealthy Russian had bought one of the ancient baroque townhouses, ripped off the roof and the interior of the upper two storeys and basically installed a giant swimming pool in the resulting hollow (and had to reinforce the entire static of his acquisition to take the strain of an Olympic-sized pool at its top). It would probably have been three times cheaper, had our Russian friend started from scratch with a completely new building. Anyway, the neighbours were quite impressed with their new kid on the block and the pains he took, to have his residence made to measure, so to speak.

One quiet afternoon, the neighbours weren't impressed anymore, but rather shocked as some (do I dare say?) business-friend was casually plinking away at the proud owner with a rifle from the hills surrounding the old part of town. Luckily, no severe damage was done (officially, that is; don't unleash your dog in the woods, lest you might have to get rid of a human thigh bone!) and some weeks after this incident, large shields of bullet-proof glass made the icing on the buildings roof.

Reading all of this, I immediately thought 'Oh, Fleming would have liked that one. Surely material for a Bond story of some kind.' There you see my problem. Not only did it take me 17 years to make something of the initial spark. No, the original idea was also crumbling down to a single sentence in the outcome. Not very satisfying, I'm afraid.

My other big problem is that I nearly always need some kind of deadline to get going. I was pondering the elements of this story for some time and already had decided to have a go at it when the original idea was suggested (thanks a lot again, MkB!!!) in 2007. But laziness and everyday office treadmill life as usual got the better of me and the deadline was nearing without me writing a single sentence. When I finally had figured out most of my plot, I still was stuck in the middle of the first chapter.

That was when I decided to take drastic measures. A few days from the deadline, in the middle of the night, really between the shadow and the soul, I drunkenly mailed Jim to pompously announce that I would submit a story. I dearly hope that Jim has forgotten about it by now, but I fear he can still attest to receiving a mail from a megalomaniac fool to said effect.

Now, being in a position where I had to put my money where previously only my mouth was, I had no option but to push the thing. While most of the story in some form or other was actually years old, I wrote it down in a feverish two and a half days, submitting it finally around three o'clock am on the morning of 29th of February. And I can tell you that I was not in much better shape than Bond when finally leaving that blasted house.

Still, you may be surprised to hear that I had to do vast cuttings to make the contents fit the form of 'short story', eventually stripping it down to the bare essentials by about half its length. Many things had to go: the little anecdote about the swimming pool, a contact of Bond in ‘Carlsbad’ (corrupt police officer) that just came far too close to Giancarlo Giannini in CR and ‚Hannibal‘ (there is really no second place winner when it comes to casting characters, be that film or writing fiction). The information this character would have provided had to go into the very unsatisfying dossier-paragraphs.

Other things were simply too long to stay within the realm of everyday credibility (for example the fight in the kitchen was much longer, changing location to a stairwell and finally the cellar; no way Bond could have survived that one in his state) or actually too grisly for me to write (not all of Zaitseff‘s men were originally dead after the explosion and Zaitseff himself was alive when Bond left the premises; likewise the unfortunate girl from the car‘s boot also was alive, although I‘m sure she preferred the fate I decided on in the end).

Unfortunately, not all of those cuttings helped to make the story better and I deeply regret that Bond’s inner life came too short in the outcome. Partially, I also wanted to avoid coming too close to FYEO’s scene when Bond doubts his mission in the hills above Echo Lake. When reading my story now, I can feel this lack only too clear. Back at the time of writing I didn’t realise how little I actually let the reader in on Bond’s thoughts. I’d definitely write it different now.

The torture scene. Well, if it gave you the creeps it obviously worked the way I intended it to. But I have to confess that naturally this is not really my achievement. Several seasons of ‘24’ have effectively upped the limits of torture since the days of CR’s carpet beater. This makes writing Bond actually much more difficult as things tend to come pretty quickly to some kind of, more or less bloody, conclusion (see ‘24‘ season two at the beginning for example). Once the first few parts of a body are gone, there isn’t really much more to ask and hardly any secrets stay concealed.

Of course I couldn’t let this happen to Bond and everything that got cut from him must either grow again or at least be possibly stitched back on. My way from this dilemma seems to have worked out well. Sadly I have to credit Richard Widmark for this, who, long before anybody even thought of ’24’, was the pioneer in one of his Western roles (‘Warlock’?) from the 50’s/60’s. Well, but Widmark isn’t Bond and he was released from his uncomfortable situation, while Bond had to do that himself.


Anyway, glad you enjoyed my story. Have to work on a new one now. You can probably read it by the time of the next centenary.

[Scrambled Eggs]

First of all, I'm an extremely slow writer. And I mean slooooooow. The original idea for this story dates back to 1991, when I read an article about Russian 'businessmeny' slowly taking over the best parts of Karlovy Vary, a town I visited in the July of 1989.

Good God. You could have written 153 Devil May Cares in that time.

My other big problem is that I nearly always need some kind of deadline to get going.

Would it help if I gave you a deadline? Shall I accompany it with some sort of threat?

[MHazard]

Now, the final Bond story, Mark Cameron's

QUALITY OF THE STONE

This story is dessert. After digesting the other offerings in the collection, this story is a reward. A thoroughly fun, lighthearted adventure, prominently featuring Felix Leiter, which is always a good thing in my opinion. If you enjoyed the chapter in Thunderball where Leiter educates Bond on the economics of the hotel martinis or the story 007 in New York, you're going to like this story.

The story begins with Bond complaining about the boredom of his present assignment which involves once again foiling diamond smugglers. Bond considers this beneath him, which provokes a wry response from Leiter, whose assistance he has requested. The best part of the story is the verbal interplay between Bond and Leiter. Mr. Cameron nails Leiter's character, which, those of us who've read the works of Gardner, Benson and Faulks, know, is not that easy to do. Cameron's Bond rings true as well, although a good case could be made that Leiter is really the star of this story.

My criticisms are minor and generally would be overlooked due to the fast pace of the story and the easy suspension of disbelief. My first is that I doubt Bond would use the Peter Franks alias a second time, given that the Spangled Mob might've spread the word that Franks was a plant. The second is that I would have thought Bond would've had a more developed plan for the villain's henchmen.

Having said all that, however, the bottom line on this story is that it's just plain fun and after all, isn't that really the point of James Bond?

[MkB]

when the original idea was suggested (thanks a lot again, MkB!!!) in 2007.

Just to make one thing clear: I have absolutely no responsibility in the original idea of this collection, all the kudos must go to Mr Twilight!

[Trident]

when the original idea was suggested (thanks a lot again, MkB!!!) in 2007.

Just to make one thing clear: I have absolutely no responsibility in the original idea of this collection, all the kudos must go to Mr Twilight!

Oh, dreadful sorry. Must have mixed that up when composing the final post here and changing some paragraphs for reasons of format. Sorry again! And thanks a lot again for this splendid idea Mr Twilight!!!

First of all, I'm an extremely slow writer. And I mean slooooooow. The original idea for this story dates back to 1991, when I read an article about Russian 'businessmeny' slowly taking over the best parts of Karlovy Vary, a town I visited in the July of 1989.

Good God. You could have written 153 Devil May Cares in that time.

Well, now that you mention it...
But, coming to think of it, I think I can live with the fate that I haven't even written a single DMC.

My other big problem is that I nearly always need some kind of deadline to get going.

Would it help if I gave you a deadline? Shall I accompany it with some sort of threat?

No, it would help if I just wasn't such a lazy bastard and wouldn't have to deal with anything else but writing.





MHazard, thanks a lot for your detailed and truly most insightful (and thought-provoking, I might add) reviews you provided for us here. You have mentioned several elements the special significance of which has escaped me on first reading such as in 'All's Hell That Ends Well' the thoughts on Geneva that could have been a part of 'Thrilling Cities' or the ambiguity of 'The Birth Of Evil's epilogue or the 'missing link' between Fleming's Bond and 'you're finished'-Bond in Matt Kriter's fine 'Forever Yours With Regret' or, or, or.

Thank you very much not only for your own splendidly entertaining 'Best Traditions' but also for giving this collection an extra dimension by sharing your sharp and intelligent thoughts with us!

[Hitch]

Curses, I'm still only halfway through the collection, which is inexplicable because I've loved what I've read so far. No time for the wicked, etc. I urge Bond literary fans to give Forever Yours, with Regret a go. You won't regret it.

*clears desk, tells Lil to take an early lunch, settles down with the inevitable buff folder and the equally inevitable Senior Service, the doctor having frowned at his full ashtray of spent Morlands*

[MHazard]

AFTERWARD

It was my pleasure and privilege to have my work included in this collection. What I found most interesting was how each author sees Bond through a slightly different lens, but uses their affection for the character to tell a story they really wanted to tell. My criticisms of Faulks' Devil May Care, which I really hoped to enjoy, continued to become more pronounced as I read the stories in the collection because it was obvious to me that each of the authors was trying very hard to tell a good story, that was important to them, and, of course, that all had a strong affection for the character James Bond. In contrast, I felt Faulks was dashing something off, didn't have any real affection for (much less understanding of) the Bond character, and didn't start with any sort of story to tell. So, while I and my fellow authors probably should keep our day jobs, I'm proud to have had my work included with others who were really trying hard to do good work. As I look at it, I think that statement can probably be expanded to include all of us who from time to time post our efforts on the Fan Fiction site.

By the way, if you haven't read the collection, you should!

[Hitch]

I've worked out why I stopped reading the highly enjoyable FYWR at the halfway point. Firstly, I hate reading PDF files; secondly, I'm lazy; lastly, the last story I read was Thomas Clink's The Blunt Instrumental. Thomas, or Clinkeroo as he's known at CBn, is notorious for writing bleak tales about our favourite spy. With The Blunt Instrumental he's managed to refine the bleakness molecule - to be known hereafter as a "grimace" - with such precision and to such a degree as to render the CERN project (the one that's going to open gateways into sundry nasty dimensions when a scientist knocks over his coffee and causes a cascading resonance effect, thus proving the validity of Chaos Theory at the exact moment that logic is brought to its knees) entirely redundant.

In other words, being a perverse sort of fellow, I enjoyed it (and the other tales) muchly, and I shall shortly check that my girdle is invisible beneath my cummerbund and proceed with the rest of the collection. I hope visitors to CBn will do the same - minus the girdle tomfoolery. Unless that's your sort of thing. Yes, that's a reference to Octopussy, Fleming fact fans.

[clinkeroo]

No, no, Hitch. You have it all wrong...Grimace is a big purple fellow that loves to drink shakes...I swear. Thanks for the, well, I think they're kind words. Sort of. And MHazard, what an amazing effort plowing through all those reviews. We could almost clip them to the ends of the various stories and call it an annotated reader.

My little suicide note of a story aside, I would say this is a hands down winner of best Bond story collection this side of Fleming, and that includes our best of collection a few years ago. To think that so few stories were trimmed, and yet such a high end product of love was wrought. I hope that those that have been holding off give it a try, and I hope that Bond fans for years to come will discover these bloody little diamonds hidden amongst the rough and the smooth.

[MkB]

As a kind of "appendix" to FYWR, here's a link to a story I've just posted in the fanfic forum. It was initially written for the Centenary collection, but didn't fit the format (it's a bit too long for a short story, and the time schedule was a bit too tight to edit/proofread etc.).

The Mercurius Affair

Just in case you're short of summer reads...

[MHazard]

So, has nobody else read FYWR since August 12th?

[MkB]

So, has nobody else read FYWR since August 12th?

Certainly because they're all busy reading The Mercurius Affair...

[MHazard]

My mistake, since I've already read it. I sort of view The Mercurius Affair as Volume 2 of FYWR anyway.