Showing posts with label james bond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label james bond. Show all posts

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Carte Blanche: Why the New Bond Book Will Bomb

In 2008, the Estate of Ian Fleming released the first of the 'next generation' of James Bond novels – Devil May Care.

Rebooting the franchise after John Gardner and Raymond Bensen's long tenures, the Estate of Ian Fleming went back to the format they intended to introduce shortly after Ian Fleming's death – having each book in the series penned by a celebrity author. For Devil May Care, they made the inspired choice of Birdsong author Sebastien Faulks.

Devil May Care was a great addition to the Bond canon – a solid little story which coolly carried the style and substance of some of Fleming's better Bond books. Ever since I read it, I've been eagerly awaiting the next chapter from publisher Hodder & Stoughton.

It turns out, I might have been waiting for nothing.

Because the estate of Ian Fleming recently announced the next of the Bond books, Carte Blanche, and I'm deeply underwhelmed by what I've heard.

For a start, they've picked American Jeffery Deaver to write it.

Now Deaver's an accomplished author, and penned some truly clever thrillers. It would be an honor for (almost any other) franchise to have a writer like him at the helm. But with Bond, things are different. In picking an American author, the publishers risk making the same error they did when they chose Raymond Bensen to take the reins of the franchise in 1996.

Bensen was a great writer – far better than his forebear, John Gardner – but lacked an insight into British culture (most notably Bond's snobbery) that was an essential ingredient to Fleming's stories. I am concerned that Deaver might share that shortcoming.

[Perhaps this is a demonstration of your own style of British snobbery – Editorial Bear]

Don't say that! It would be like getting a British actor to play that most iconic of Americans – Superman!

[They did. You might want to read thisEditorial Bear]

Oh.

Anyway, what concerns me more – in fact fills me with dread for the whole project – is that Deaver's wading in and rewriting Bond's history.

You can understand why he's doing it, of course. James Bond was born in 1920, yet was portrayed as still being in active service by John Gardner and Raymond Bensen well into the 21st century. It was growing impossible to maintain Bond's continuity and also portray him as a young, vibrant and dangerous secret agent.

Sebastian Faulks solved this issue by setting Devil May Care in 1967; just weeks after the conclusion of Colonel Sun (the last of the 'canon' Bond books.) Jeffery Deaver is apparently taking the opposite tack.

"The book will be set in mid-2011," Deaver explains, "which is when the book will be coming out. Bond is a 29- or 30-year-old agent for British security, doing what he did in the original books. And he will be a veteran of the military campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan. You'll see the cast of characters readers are familiar with - Miss Moneypenny and M - but updated for the present day."

Ouch. Bond is being 'reborn' in the mid-eighties, according to Deaver's math.

And to me, this means that despite dodging the deadly intentions of Blofeld, Goldfinger and SMERSH, Bond did get killed in the end. There's simply no way this modern mash-up will be anything akin to the chauvinistic, cold-blooded ladykiller we all know and love.

Bond was the archetype for the modern action hero – so to 'reinvent him' for a modern age is to thrust a character into a literary realm in which he's already become a stereotype. Likewise, the challenges Deaver's modern-day Bond will face will be starkly different to those of the original Bond – whose world view was shaped by wars World and Cold.

Don't get me wrong – I'm sure the new Bond book, Carte Blanche, will be a magnificent thriller – but it won't be a Bond book. Not in the same way Devil May Care was. It will be something like the exciting, but ultimately unsatisfying Quantum of Solace movie – a fast-paced thrill ride that owes it's name, but nothing else, to Ian Fleming's legacy.

Carte Blanche by Jeffery Deaver is available in hardback in June, 2011

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Militant Ginger rants - Redheaded Men are Bringing Sexy Back

I was narked a while back to hear somebody (who prided themselves on their tolerance and open-mindedness, no less) declare that they "didn't find redheaded men attractive."

And that's fine - I mean, I don't find superficiality attractive, so I guess our feelings of non-attraction were fortuitously mutual - but it did rub me up the wrong way.

Oh, don't get me wrong. We all have 'types' we find attractive. I can't tell you the number of times my head's been turned by a prim, buttoned-up brunette in a tailored blouse - or, conversely, a compact, curvy little Italian/Jewish girl with her hair in a pony tail.

But attraction goes a lot deeper than that. Judging whether or not somebody is attractive is dependent on so many things - and they can and can't cancel each other out.

From a totally superficial standpoint, I might claim not to find overweight women attractive. However, there are more than a couple of overweight women I have found very attractive over the years. Maybe it's because they were pretty, smart, funny, compelling - or maybe even beautiful in a way I simply hadn't considered before. It was an inaccurate assumption (and one I was happy to abandon - I even dated a plus-sized model for a year.)

According to her BMI, this woman is overweight. Does that make her unattractive? Um... No.

Similarly, while I have a definite 'thing' for those prim, buttoned-up brunettes I was talking about, I know a couple I'd gladly throttled rather than share an elevator ride with. Personality and attitude can outweigh looks - but, the opposite is NOT true.

So back to my 'superficial somebody', who declared that they didn't find redheaded men attractive. I challenge - wouldn't that depend on the guy?

Below, I present five redheaded men who are, in my limited and heterosexual perspective, smokin' hot. If the woman who declared 'redheaded men aren't attractive' doesn't feel a tingle about at least one of these examples, she might as well buy a pair of sensible shoes and join a softball team right now (if you catch my drift.)

Sexy Redheads of Our Generation

#1: Prince Harry

The youngest son of Princess Diana, Harry is affectionately known by his squad-mates as 'the ginger bullet magnet.' A tank commander, helicopter pilot, front-line officer in Afghanistan and Polo player extraordinaire, he's basically the closest thing us gingers have to James Bond.

And that's ignoring the fact that he's third in line to the throne. All in all, old Harry is 'kind of a big deal.'

Women love him because he's athletic, attractive and has a wicked streak a mile wide. Unlike his staid and proper older brother (who is a 'king in training' and expected to act like it) Harry is a common site in nightclubs and hotspots around the world - boozing, womanizing and raising all kinds of hell.

Plus, he's got the elixir all women fall for - a tragic past hidden beneath all that boyish bravado. He lost his mother in a fateful car accident in Paris, and has lived in the public eye ever since - with many courting rumors that he's really the illegitimate son of Diana's former lover Major James Hewitt (and in all honesty, the resemblance is remarkable.)

2# Rupert Grint

As Harry Potter's best friend Ron, ginger actor Rupert Grint has become nothing less than an international phenomenon. For every bitchy woman who declares 'redheaded men aren't attractive,' there are three dozen teenage girls writing angsty poetry about how much they 'heart' this particular ginger.

Despite living his teenage years in the Warner Brothers spotlight, and currently owning more money than most of us can imagine, Rupert Grint always comes across as genuine, down-to-earth and just downright lovable. During the filming of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, he bought himself an ice-cream truck and entertained himself between takes churning out Mr Whippy for the film crew.

And if there are any further doubts, remember this: He's the one who got to snog Emma Watson in the final Harry Potter film. I rest my case.

#3 Paul Bettany

If you like your redheaded hotties a little closer to the legal age of consent, how about well-seasoned star Paul Bettany. This BAFTA award winning actor is most famous for trudging about in the buff in 2001's A Knight's Tale - which might explain his popularity with the ladies.

There are all sorts of reasons women like Bettany - his easy charm, piercing gaze or even his dulcet tones (which earned him the voice role of Tony Stark's supercomputer J.A.R.V.I.S. in the Iron Man movies.) Some, at the risk of sounding superficial, might have been partial to the impressive six-pack he sported in the supernatural thriller Legion.

Whatever the reason, this redhead's got it going on. Need further proof? How about the fact that he's married to Jennifer Connelly. Yes, Jennifer freakin' Connelly - only one of the most unequivocally attractive women ever to grace the silver screen.

Paul Bettany is married to this smoldering goddess. Case closed.

So for my friend who declared that 'redheaded men aren't attractive?' Jennifer Connelly disagrees with you - and you're no Jennifer Connelly.

#4 Damien Lewis

No, I don't know who he is either - but apparently I'm in the minority.

Yet in what I euphemistically classify as 'the research' I did for this piece, his name kept coming up amongst the girls I talked to. Apparently many of them seemed to have a thing for this British actor, star of HBO's Band of Brothers.

I guess it's not difficult to see why - he's rugged, athletic and has a certain toughness about him that sets him apart from more 'gentlemanly' gingers like Paul Bettany. His most commonly celebrated feature, apparently, are his icy blue eyes - which reportedly make girls 'swoon.'

#5 Eric Stoltz

Star of SyFy's show Caprica, the venerable Eric Stoltz looks pretty well preserved considering he's approaching his forth generation of acting. The original Marty McFly (until he was replaced by Micheal J. Fox) he's also stared in Memphis Belle, Pulp Fiction, Jerry Maguire and a litany of other movies. He's almost as much of a Hollywood fixture as the Walk of Stars.

He's also considered something of a hottie.

Oh, maybe not in the Brad Pitt or George Clooney category, but he's got more than his share of fans. My Internet investigation turned up comments like: "Eric Stoltz is KILLER SEXY' and "How cute is he? Seriously?"

Maybe it's something to do with the careful balance he's achieved; stuck somewhere between 'boyish' and 'worn in.' Maybe it's the passion he injects into his work - he plays a fantastic mad scientist in Caprica. Perhaps it's just the fact that he looks damn good in a suit.

Of course, there are plenty of other redheaded hotties - and just how hot they are is the subject of much discussion.

Runners up for this article included Conan O'Brien, who has more than his share of female fans. CSI Miami star David Caruso was also considered - he was once the quintessential ginger heartthrob - but is now more likely to be mocked for his overly dramatic turn as detective Horatio Caine (nevertheless, a lot of ladies get a bit squirmy at the thought of him.)

Nevertheless, I think I've made my point: Red hair is only as unattractive as the guy it's attached to.

A superficial statement like 'redheaded men aren't attractive' is utterly laudable given the fact that there are plenty of highly attractive redheaded men out there - and the redheads who are unattractive would arguably still be so if their hair magically turned blond or black.

My attitude towards the woman who declares that she doesn't find redheaded men attractive? It's your loss, baby. You have no idea what you're missing out on.

Friday, October 22, 2010

A new Goldeneye?

The blame for my less than stellar performance at university can be laid at many doorsteps - including that of Nintendo's Goldeneye game; which my flatmates and I spent many hours playing, when we should have been revising.

A seminal video-game, it was a faithful retelling of the 1996 movie of the same name and set the standard for every first-person shooter that would follow it (including the enjoyable, but critically panned sequel Goldeneye: Rogue Agent.)

Well, after almost a decade, Goldeneye's back.

A state-of-the-art video-game is in the works that doesn't just revisit the groundbreaking game-play of the original Goldeneye - it also retells the original story. Using the voice and likeness of the 'current' Bond, Daniel Craig, it reworks the post-glasnost tale into a modern story of political corruption and economic skulduggery.

Here's an interview with the game's writer - who has the distinction of penning three Bond movies, including the original Goldeneye. Although I'm naturally inclined to be skeptical about such things, this new adventure seems like it has incredible potential.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Operation Gingermobile: The $1,600 dream machine...

I blame it on Olds Chick! She was the one who left this message on Operation Gingermobile:
As the owner of a 1978 Mark V, I get about 15 mpg in the city, and better on the highway.
I'd ruled out the beautiful Lincoln Continental Mark V as a potential 'Gingermobile' because it has the dubious distinction of being one of the most thirsty production automobiles ever - apparently getting an estimated 7mpg!


But Olds Chick has blissfully disputed that - and, as a result, it looks like the Lincoln's back in the game! Previous to that, I'd still been looking at Pontiac Firebirds and the good old chevrolet camaro.

I especially liked the Lincoln Continental Mark V for a variety of reasons:
  • It's a big, luxurious car like James Bond's Bentley or The Saint's Hirondel.
  • It's got classic American swagger and squishy suspension like The General Lee.
  • James Bond drove a 'Continental' (Bentley, that is - but the same name!)
  • James Bond also drove a Mark V (Bentley, that is - but the same name!)
  • It's pimpin', unique and stylish - kind of like me.
  • Two doors, four seats and a huge boot/trunk - Adventure Eddy essentials.
The only drawback? It's got an automatic gearbox. All Lincolns do!

Nevertheless, even that drawback pales into insignificance when you consider this:


When I searched for Lincoln Continental Mark V's in my local area, I found this black beauty for just $1,600! Look at it! What a gorgeous motor car!

$1,600 is a bargain for this classic auto - although there's probably a reason for that! Sixteen hundred is less than the deposit for a brand new Hyundai!

I imagine that to get this potential Gingermobile up to inspection standards would probably involve quite a serious investment. And to really soup it up, I'd like to do the following:
  • Add a five-speed manual transmission from the similar-vintage Ford Mustang
  • Sling a loud, dual-exhaust 'cherry bomb' set up pipes on there
  • Uprate the suspension so it handles tightly
  • Add rack-and-pinion steering for clean, crisp control
  • Swapping out those whitewalls for big, fat racing tyres
  • Repainting it British Racing Green or cherry red.
By that time, you're looking at splashing out enough cash to buy a new chrysler! Except you won't have the crash-test rating or acceptable fuel economy!

But what a ride that would be. Everything a Gingermobile should be - rough and ready with a refined edge. I love it already!

Sadly (or as far as Mummy Militant's concerned, fortunately) I don't have $1,600 or more to splash out on this - but while that still leaves me without a Gingermobile, I feel the search is getting closer to a conclusion.

Oh, and in other car-related news, the infamous Ford Transit van (most normally seen at 90mph, three inches from your rear bumper in the fast-lane of the motorway) is coming to America! They've announced that the much touted 'backbone of Britain' will be heading Stateside in 2010. The ford transit connect will offer a fuel-efficient alternative to Ford's regular lineup of trucks and pickups.

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

James Bond: The Union Trilogy by Raymond Benson

James Bond: The Union Trilogy’ is a recently-released compilation of three James Bond books penned by American author Raymond Benson, who took over the reins of Bond’s literary adventures in 1996 (from English author John Gardner.)

Held together by the pursuit of common protagonists, ‘The Union Trilogy’ sees James Bond come up against a shadowy organization known only as ‘The Union’ – mercenary terrorists willing to commit any atrocity for the right price.

Their trademark: Slitting the throat of anybody foolish enough to betray them.

The trilogy kicks off with 1999’s ‘High Time to Kill,’ in which James Bond must race to the peak of Kangchenjunga – the smaller, but deadlier cousin of Mount Everest – to recover a vital piece of stealth technology.

It’s a solid story, intricately researched and with enough grit to remind us that Fleming’s James Bond was truly tough-as-nails – not the smarmy, smirking secret-agent we’re familiar with from the movies.

The compilation continues with ‘Doubleshot,’ which sees Bond recovering from a head-injury sustained during his adventure in the Himalayas.

With more than a nod towards classic film-noir plots sharing similar themes, Bond starts to question his own sanity after he’s accused of murder and forced to go on the run from his colleagues at MI6.

The final chapter in 'The Union Trilogy' is ‘Never Dream of Dying,’ in which Bond investigates a sinister film mogul (perhaps loosely based on the infamous Roman Polanski.)

As Bond probes further, he’s shocked to discover that the shadowy mastermind behind the vicious ‘Union’ might be somebody closer to him than he could possibly have imagined.

Wrapping up the compilation is the original Benson story ‘Blast from the Past,’ which debuted in Playboy magazine back in 1997 – plus a new and extended introduction from the author himself.

The introduction is a fascinating insight into the thought-process behind the three stories, but does contain several ‘spoilers’ that give away vital plot twists. I’d recommend reading the introduction after the stories themselves.

And after that layer cake of Benson-style Bond, how did I think the American author held up?

Benson’s Bond shares more characteristics with Fleming’s original character than Gardner’s prissy, pallid imitation did. Bond womanizes, drinks, kills and gambles with an emotionless impunity that reminds us just how dangerous the man is supposed to be.

Benson also shares Fleming’s devilish flair for details – with intricate research in ‘High Time to Kill’ that makes Bond’s mountaineering come vividly to life. Likewise, the torture scene towards the end of ‘Never Dream of Dying’ is honestly, unequivocally unnerving and ranks alongside the testicular-torment Bond experienced at the end of ‘Casino Royale.’

Less successful is Benson’s writing style. Some stages seem rushed – delivering bland exposition instead of evocative description. Likewise, much of the dialogue is awkwardly stilted and doesn’t feel real. Another criticism is the clear ‘Americanism.’ Benson flits inconsistently between using American and English words – perhaps he’d have been better off sticking to one or the other.

But looking at the whole package, ‘The Union Trilogy’ makes for a deeply satisfying read.

For all his faults, Benson’s got a clearly superior grasp of the James Bond mythos than his predecessor. While John Gardner wrote fairly generic thrillers (Bond could have been replaced by Boysie Oakes or any other Gardner creation) the Bond that Benson writes about is clearly Fleming’s famous creation.

That makes ‘The Union Trilogy’ a solid choice for Bond fans everywhere – a worthy testament to Raymond Benson’s time at the helm of the Bond franchise.

Monday, August 03, 2009

Ask Militant Ginger

It's that time again! Where we sift through the search-terms that people have entered into Google and answer the questions that brought readers to Militant Ginger.

Is Stephanie Meyer an anti-gay supporter?

Stephanie Meyer, the author of the best-selling vampire melodrama ‘Twilight’, has been at the center of much discussion recently. Did she contribute towards the passing of ‘Proposition 8’, the controversial bill that banned same-sex marriage in California?

The issue seems to revolve around her affiliation to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The LDS, of course, are strongly opposed to same-sex marriage and equal rights for homosexuals. In fact, they were one of the strongest supporters of ‘Prop Hate.’

If Mormonism plays such an important part in Meyer’s life (which, by all accounts, it does) surely it’s logical to assume that she shares their attitude towards gay-marriage.

Well, I have a friend who’s a Mormon and if she’s taught me anything, it’s that Mormons defy expectations. They’re individuals and capable of making their own minds up on these issues. Generalizations are both stupid and inaccurate.

So while it’s a fair suspicion that Meyer might be 'for' Prop 8 – that’s a conclusion only reached by making several assumptions.

We assume that Meyer gives 10% of her income to her local church. Then we assume that this church supports Proposition 8 and other anti-gay legislation. That’s why most people assume she supports anti-gay legislation.

However, assumptions aren’t proof – and in her defense, it’s worth nothing that there’s no record of Meyer making a direct financial contribution towards supporting Proposition 8. Likewise, her church didn’t directly fund the campaign either (although over $190,000 was paid ‘in kind’ by the Church’s members.)

That’s proof that Stephanie Meyer’s didn’t directly support Proposition 8 - and even if she does support the measure, she’s remaining conspicuously quiet on the matter. Probably a wise move, as the Twilight franchise is very popular with some members of the LGBT community

What sort of car is a Furillac?

A Furillac? Well, it’s the monstrously powerful sports coupe driven by Simon Templar, in the first of Leslie Charteris’ ‘Saint’ novels.

Although The Saint is best remembered for driving a Volvo (or the fictional Hirondel) he actually started his career in crime behind the wheel of the equally fictional Furillac.

Charteris didn’t give much of a description of this car, but from the name (suspiciously like Cadillac) and the few words he did write, it’s safe to assume that it might have been a powerful American coupe much like the Cords of the 1930s.

In the novel ‘The Last Hero,’ later renamed ‘The Saint Closes the Case,’ Templar’s Furillac falls into the hands of the police and he hits the road in his friend Norman Kent’s Hirondel (a car loosely based on Charteris’ own Bugatti roadster.)

When Kent nobly sacrifices his life in the final pages of the novel (leaving Simon a note – ‘Nothing is Won without Sacrifice’) Simon seems to adopt the car as his own – and drives it for more or less the rest of his literary career.

(Cord picture courtesy of the Kilted Travel Agent)

Can you get a New Jersey driver’s license on a Tourist Visa?

No. In order to get a driver’s license in New Jersey, you have to have a valid VISA that is good for at least six months or more. Even the B-class Tourist Visa is only good for six months. Some states, however, do offer State driving licenses with less stringent regulations (and depending on the state, these can be exchanged for a New Jersey license after proving residency.)

What’s the British ‘English’ Mindset?

This is a question that could take an entire blog post to answer. Perhaps several of them!

From my point of view, the typical ‘British’ mindset isn’t always a positive one. Brits can be snobby – in both directions. ‘Reverse’ snobbery is rife and most people in Britain are instantly judged (and condemned) based on things like their accent.

Brits also have a tendency to hammer down any nails that ‘stand too tall’ and entrepreneurialism, ambition and success seem to be somewhat frowned upon. Brits should, to paraphrase Prince Charles, ‘know their place’ and be satisfied with it.

But moving to America, I have identified some typically ‘British’ traits that I do like. For example, Brits have a wonderful knack for keeping their mouths shut, whereas Americans (especially from New York) have an opinion about everything. Mummy Militant, for example, often frustrates me by claiming knowledge on things she really doesn’t know anything about.

But what this does mean is that Americans don’t take ‘no’ for an answer – and will give anything a try. While I find Mummy Militant’s self-confident ‘expertise’ somewhat frustrating, whenever she tries her hand at something I tell her she doesn’t know how to do – she more often than not manages to pull it off!

Redheaded men are ugly.

That sort of statement is exactly what I think of when I’m asked about the ‘typical British mindset.’

“Red-headed men are surely the most unattractive male specimens on the planet at the best of times,” wrote one British blogger I picked a fight with. “But they look even worse with their horribly pale, freckled skin..”

To be honest, I think somebody who makes an assumption that ‘all redheaded men are ugly’ is probably saying more about themselves than about redheads. What if they said the same about blacks?

Surely we’re all individuals – and should be judged as ‘attractive’ or not on a case-by-case basis, not lumped into one generalization.

Eric Stolz and David Caruso are two redheaded Americans who are generally regarded as fairly handsome. I know more than a few women who go weak at the knees when Caruso yanks off his shades in the opening moments of C.S.I. Miami (and I know a few more who laugh at the conceit.)

Rupert Grint, who plays Ron Weasely in the Harry Potter movies, is fast becoming a redheaded sex-symbol and plenty of girls I know have gone gaga over all the shots of his muscular arms (to be enjoyed in the latest movie, Half Blood Prince.)

Other redheads, like Simply Red front man Mick Hucknall, are often mocked as being unattractive – but it’s a universally acknowledged truth that Mick has more moist panties being hurled at him than any olive-skinned underwear model. In the case of this so-called ‘Ginger Stallion,’ sexiness is definitely subjective.

So I’ll say that redheaded men aren’t ugly – unless they are. Some are really strange looking goons (like Carrot Top) and some are matinee idols (like Charles Dance.) They might buck the trend for ‘tall, dark strangers’ but I’m pretty sure there are more than enough women out there who find a few freckles and a curl of ginger to be just what the doctor ordered.

(By the way, the redheaded model in the picture is from Model Mayhem. His name's Corey Tenold, and you can find his website here. Way to represent for us gingers, mate!)

How do you knock out power to a block of houses?

Oh my God! Why would anybody visiting my blog want to know this?

It sounds like the sort of thing a serial killer might find useful – although now my imagination’s working, I like to think it was some erstwhile adventurer googling goodies for a Simon Templar-inspired act of justice.

In any event, Militant Ginger IN NO WAY advocates attempting to knock out the power to a block of houses. DON’T DO IT. It’s illegal, highly dangerous, totally irresponsible and here’s how to do it:

As readers will know, America’s power system is a wondrous example of the free-market system at it's worst. Several companies compete for the right to supply your domicile with juice – but in the interests of profit, completely fail to maintain the grid in the meantime. This results in regular power-outages, ugly cables strung along the roadside and the ability to paralyze the entire eastern seaboard whenever a tree falls down.

It also means it’s ridiculously easy to knock out power to a block of houses. Absurdly so.

The trick is to find the local electric company’s ‘power box.’ This is a large, locally-situated generator/booster which boosts the power, or amps up the juice (or something) to make it strong enough to light up a row of houses. Knock that out (driving a car into it should work – as America’s drunk drivers regularly demonstrate) and you’ll send the block into darkness quicker than you can blink.

It’s not very scientific – and does carry the risk of electrocuting you – but it should work.

As I said earlier, though, DON’T DO IT. Don’t even THINK about doing it. The last thing I want to learn is that some stupid sod burnt themselves to a crisp driving their Honda Civic into an electricity pylon – especially if they did so after reading this post!

Will there be a sequel to Devil May Care?

Sebastian Faulks picked up Ian Fleming’s pen to write an anniversary James Bond novel on the occasion of Fleming’s 100th birthday. Devil May Care was the result – and was very highly received.

However, Faulks has already said he’s ‘unlikely’ to write a follow up. Initially reluctant to take the project in the first place, he feels that the next Bond novel (and Ian Fleming publications has promised there will be more) would be better suited to another author.

He suggested picking a ‘celebrity’ author for each progressive book – much like IFP had envisioned when Kingsley Amis first wrote ‘Colonel Sun’ under the nom de plume ‘Robert Markham.’

But Bond fans needn't despair. Charlie Higson is continuing to churn out the ‘Young Bond’ books. You haven't read the last of Britain's favorite secret agent!

Monday, June 22, 2009

Can a reproduction ever come close to a classic?

Bond - a man who knew his motors...

Readers of Militant Ginger will know my feelings on modern cars: They bore the pants off me. Especially modern American ones. To me, they embody everything James Bond sneered about American motoring back in 1954's Live and Let Die.
Most American cars bored him. They lacked personality and the patina of individual craftsmanship that European cars have.

They were just ‘vehicles’, similar in shape and in colour, and even in the tone of their horns. Designed to serve for a year and then be turned in in part
exchange for next year’s model.

All the fun of driving had been taken out of them with the abolition of a gear-change, with hydraulic-assisted steering and spongy suspension
. All effort had been smoothed away and all of that close contact with the machine and the road that extracts skill and nerve from the European driver.

To Bond, American cars were just beetle-shaped Dodgems in which you motored along with one hand on the wheel, the radio full on, and the power-operated windows closed to keep out the draughts.
Back in the 'old days', I'd have disagreed with Mr Bond - there were certainly some loin-girding muscle cars being produced in the sixties and seventies. But modern American cars? Show me a lincoln mks and I'll show you an armchair on wheels - a modern vehicle that packs so many luxuries, its headunit even plays DVDs.

Even foreign cars are falling foul of the corpulent cushiness of American motoring. Take the lexus rx for example. It comes with everything - built-in Bluetooth, hand-free satellite navigation and even keyless entry. The only thing they haven't perfected is how to make the damn thing drive itself.

That's why I crave classic American cars - the old Detroit steel that made this country great. That old cliche, 'they don't build 'em like that any more' has come true. Hell, you can't imagine Bruce Springsteen wailing 'Oh, Sweet Lexus!' with the same enthusiasm he garnered for that old rock 'n roll classic 'Mustang Sally.'

But there is a car on the market at the moment which is at least attempting to recapture the testicular fortitude of its American muscle-car lineage - the chevy camaro. The 2010 Chevrolet Camaro definitely looks the business - with styling cues clearly taken from the 1967 original. But can it possibly live up to the classic that made the 'Camaro' name so evocative? Look at these car pictures.

The wicked looking muzzle of the 2010 Camaro

The original Chevy Camaro was introduced after a secretive development - specifically to nail the 'pony car' market that Ford had created with their highly popular Ford Mustang. When the Camaro was unveiled to the public, people often asked: "What does Camaro mean?" To which the marketing bods at Chevrolet responded: "A small, vicious animal that eats Mustangs."

Camaro combined the stability of a front-engined, rear-wheel drive coupe with the flexibility of accepting pretty much any of Chevrolet's current lineup of engines - from the inline straight-6 to their monstrous 396 cubic inch V8 (displacing six and a half liters.)

That, combined with the car's light curb weight, made for one hell of a performer.

The original - and still the best?

So forty years - and five incarnations - later, the modern Chevy Camaro has a lot to live up to.

Limiting your appraisal to the specs, things might look good. The new Camaro is seven inches shorter than it's chubby predecessor (the limp, forth generation) and the base model is driven by a 304hp V6. Pair that with a six-speed manual gearbox and you've definitely got a car to write home about.

But most Americans, despite being transfixed by the car's racy looks, will probably plump for the automatic transmission and that, in combination with the StabiliTrak electronic stability/traction control system, means the driving experience will be resolutely safe. Hardly the tyre-squealing, white-knuckle thrill-ride getting behind the wheel of an original one was.

The soft 'clunk' of the doors, the big, airbag-equipped wheel and the fully-featured headunit all conspire to make this a sporty-looking, but sedentary vehicle. There's no scent of gasoline, or tinny-reverb from the twin exhausts. The window panes don't rattle and the tachometer doesn't twitch. Really, what the bods at Chevrolet have done isn't to civilise the Camaro - they've damn near domesticated it.

I'll stick with the original, thank you very much.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Boo studies Bond


We've all got to start somewhere... Boo picked appropriate reading material.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

How to be an Adventure Hero

I'm passionate about old fashioned adventure stories - James Bond, The Saint and pretty much anything that combines fast cars, beautiful women, scheming villains and lashings of alcohol.

In my own life, I aspire to adventure hero status (tying to live up to my fictional alter-ego, Adventure Eddy) but come up considerably short.

If I'm being brutally honest with myself, I wouldn't last five minutes in an Eddyesque exploit - much less be able to tackle the tribulations that faced Simon Templar or James Bond.

So I've decided to examine what it takes to be a real adventure hero - and see if I can't do something about improving my abilities!

According to my research (a lifetime reading pulp adventure stories) any aspiring Adventure Hero must be able to:

Put up a fight. While we'll leave it to Batman and Simon Templar to tackle a room full of bloodthirsty thugs single-handed, even the most modest of adventure heroes needs to be able to handle themselves in a fight.

Drive expertly: Simon Templar and James Bond were both renowned for their driving skills, combining the high-speed expertise of a racing driver with wheelmanship a police driver would be proud of. The essential skills required are the ability to outrun a pursuer (including the cops) while also keeping on the tail of a fleeing bad-guy.

Seduce a Lady: Indiana Jones seduced Kate Capshaw, even while dripping with sweat, dirt and the blood of all the Nazis he'd just beaten up. James Bond, meanwhile, bed-hopped more than a cimex lectularius. Romance is an indispensable component of the adventure hero lifestyle.

Be knowledgeable: With one sip of solera, Bond could name the vintage of the wine upon which it was originally based. Simon Templar spoke several languages like a native. Sherlock Holmes, of course, was the very epitome of encyclopedic knowledge (as long as it interested him; he knew nothing of literature, philosophy or politics, arguing: "A man's brain is like a little empty attic, and you should only stock it with such furniture as you choose.")

Be brilliant: Simon Templar electrocuted his captors with nothing more than a damp towel and a table lamp. James Bond made a makeshift knuckle-duster out of his Rolex. Sherlock Holmes, of course, was the master of deduction and inspirational thinking. To be an adventure hero, you need to be sharp. Initiative, intuition and intelligence are second only to the true test - inspiration.

Be gentlemanly: James Bond never 'spanked a girl on an empty stomach' - and likewise, all the best adventure heroes know when to keep it classy. Adventure heroes aren't petty, mean-spirited or gossipy. They almost universally treat people with the respect they deserve.
Out of the practical skills adventure heroes should possess, these struck me as some of the most popular:
  • Ride a horse
  • Fight with a sword
  • Shoot a gun
  • Scale a wall
  • Swim strongly (and underwater)
  • Fix a car
  • Hold their liquor
  • Fly a plane
  • Run five miles
  • Hotwire a car
  • Pick a lock
  • Start a fire without matches or a lighter
  • Shoot a bow and arrow
  • Throw a knife
  • Mix a Martini
  • Get out of handcuffs
Now how do I rate?

Put up a fight. I've had absolutely no formal training in fighting - I took Kung Fu for a couple of weeks, but spent more time doing press-ups than actually learning anything practical. That lack of training, pitted with my (fortunately) meagre real-life combat experience means that I'd be mincemeat in the face of even the most feeble foe. Verdict: FAIL.

Drive expertly: I'm a pretty good driver, even if I do say so myself. However, driving safely and precisely is very different from driving fast and well. Like with the fighting, I don't think this is an area I can lay any claim to without some time on a track or an advanced driving course. Verdict: FAIL.

Seduce a Lady: As the existence of my nine-month-old will testify to, I've seduced at least one woman in my time. In fact, I've generally been quite a likable and female-friendly chap - I even had a reputation as an ambitious, if generally unsuccessful womaniser in my time. While I'm certainly no Lothario (and don't measure up to Templar or Bond) I do think I hold my own in this department. Verdict: C+ (could do better)

Be knowledgeable: Does the ability to quote Thomas Jefferson, or the skill to mix the perfect Martini, allow me to rank myself as 'knowledgeable?' I'm really not - although I've got a serviceable knowledge of history, speak fluent French (badly) and developed some practical skills growing up on a farm. In the right circumstances, I think I could pull something out of the hat. Verdict: C (could do better)

Be brilliant: I have my moments, but when it comes to flashes of inspiration and shrewd deductive reasoning, I'm woefully inadequate. I don't think I've ever had a moment of genius like Sherlock Holmes, or outwitted a cunning enemy like The Saint. Verdict: FAIL.

Be gentlemanly: Now this is my area of expertise! I like to think I'm charming, affable and painstakingly polite, so I think I definitely rank as a 'gentleman.' Plus, I have a British accent! Verdict: A

Now how about those skills?
  • Ride a horse - Yes, I've been riding since I was a child.
  • Fight with a sword - No, despite owning several of them.
  • Shoot a gun - Maybe, I was a crack shot with air pistols and shotguns (but I hate guns)
  • Scale a wall - No, because I'm too fat and unfit
  • Swim strongly (and underwater) - Maybe, I'm a good swimmer, but monstrously unfit
  • Fix a car - No, although I've had plenty of opportunity to peer at broken motors
  • Hold their liquor - No, since I drink radically less than I used to
  • Fly a plane - No, although I've taken a lesson and enjoyed it
  • Run five miles - No, because I'm too unfit
  • Hotwire a car - No, although I did hotwire a Golf Cart once
  • Pick a lock - No, but I've done it a few times with poorly made locks
  • Start a fire without matches or a lighter - Maybe, bang a few rocks together?
  • Shoot a bow and arrow - No, because I've done it, but can't hit a damn thing.
  • Throw a knife - No, not without a spectacularly nonlethal 'clonk' at the other end.
  • Mix a Martini - Yes, my Martinis are sublime
  • Get out of handcuffs - Maybe, I keep a handcuff key in my pocket just in case!
Two out of sixteen is pretty appalling! Unless my 'adventure' revolved around a horse and a wet bar, I'd be pretty stumped!

So the verdict is inarguable: I'd make a pretty terrible adventure hero (as it currently stands!)

Of course, the fact that I'm not an adventure hero and will probably have very little reason to ever become one (as I sink even further into suburban serenity) is irrelevant. It's pretty depressing to realize that I'd be woefully inadequate should I ever 'hear the sound of the trumpet' and be called to action.

Therefore, I need to do something about this!

Where to begin, though?

I'll have to give this some serious thought. One thing is certain - I can't be expected to learn all these important adventuring skills overnight!

Out of all of them, though, I think two strike me as the most important. The first is 'Put up a fight.' I really ought to get back into taking a martial art, or joining a boxing gym, as a bit of self defence knowledge is never a bad idea.

The second one would fix several of my inadequacies - simply getting fit. Indiana Jones wouldn't have lasted five minutes against the Nazis if he was as pale and portly as me. I need to get myself in gear so (if the occasion ever called for it) I too could outrun a boulder or swim across the ocean to a descending U-Boat (you never know - it might happen!)

Well, watch this space. Reinventing myself as an adventure hero is just beginning

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The First Edition Death Warrant

At one point, I began writing a fictionalized biography of Auric Goldfinger, the seminal bad-guy from the book and movie of the same name.

Because he was redheaded, I'd always felt a certain solidarity with Mr Goldfinger. Fleming described him as barely five-feet tall - so that, along with his ginger hair, must have made him the very epitome of 'over-compensation.'

I imagined that was why he was so obsessed about becoming the richest man in England. The conspicuous props of his wealth - the Rolls Royce and the gold-painted beauties - were just part of his peculiar compulsions.

I imagined the story of this man's life. It was exciting, erotic and macabre. As a young man, I envisioned him as a noble sort, outwitting Nazis and Russians during World War II. However, as his obsession with the 'purity' of gold increased, Goldfinger himself became more and more corrupt.

I sent an email to the Estate of Ian Fleming to see if they'd be interested in reading this story - obviously, without their blessing, it could never be published. In the mean time, I thought I'd post the prologue.


The Last Statement of Auric Goldfinger

Prologue

The First Edition Death Warrant


Four days ago, I received my death warrant – although I didn’t realize it at the time.

The warrant took a rather lurid form. A hardback book featuring a skull on the cover, it’s bare teeth clutching a lush, red rose.

Two gold coins filled the skull’s empty eye sockets.

And on the bottom of the cover was the name of the condemned man.

Goldfinger.

My name.


- - -



I am Auric Goldfinger.

When I received the book, I had been prisoner of the British government for some nine months.

I read it in a little over a day. It was not very long and between the regular interrogations, there was little else to occupy my time.

It was a fantasy of sorts. A pulp melodrama built on a foundation of the barest elements of fact.

To read it was infuriating.

Many times, I would throw down the book and pace the narrow width of my room in disgust.

I am not sure who sent the book to me.

I assume it was the sneering peacock on the back cover – the man who had misappropriated my name and concocted a lurid, libelous fantasy around it.

Ian Fleming.

Nevertheless, I instantly recognized that this book signaled the end.

This disgusting, libelous ‘novel’ could only have been published in the smug satisfaction that I, the victim of this slur, would never be in a position to revenge myself upon the author.

Ian Fleming had written it, knowing that I was to die.

I had accepted that I might die while still a prisoner of the British government, but until I received that copy of ‘Goldfinger, by Ian Fleming’ I had not truly believed that my demise was inevitable.

Now, I realized, I was a dead man.

The skull on that book’s cover was my own.

Monday, February 09, 2009

More on the Gingermobile...

As you might remember, I've been seriously considering what my next 'Gingermobile' will be.

The cars of literary heroes James Bond and Simon Templar helped me define some of the essential characteristics of a Gingermobile, but there's another important influence to consider.

When it comes to the soul of the Gingermobile, you have to look down south - to the fictional county of Hazzard, Georgia, and a '69 Dodge Charger that two boys used to run moonshine across the territory in.


The General Lee.

When you get down to brass tacks, the General Lee represents everything required in a Gingermobile. It's a massive great beast of a car, born of NASCAR heritage and with some of the finest lines ever seen emerging from Detroit.

The original General Lee was a 1969 Dodge Charger, painted in Corvette Flame Red with a 383 cubic inch V8 mounted to a three speed A727 Torqueflites automatic transmission. The car rolled on 14X7 inch American Racing brand "Vectors" wheels and B.F.Goodrich racing tyres. With the doors welded shut for stability, a full roll-cage installed inside and front 'push bars' added, it was a serious tank.

I wrote earlier that my next Gingermobile will have to fit the specifications of Bond and Templar's cars - fast, big and luxurious. The Dodge Charger fits all three of those, although the General Lee itself wasn't so 'luxurious' - as befits a racing car, the luxuries were pared down to the essentials.

The General Lee, however, reiterates two points about Simon Templar and James Bond's cars that I missed. Although not nearly to the same extent as the Duke boy's chariot, both Simon's Hirondel and Bond's Bentley were heavily modified and unique.


Simon Templar was forever taking his cream and red Hirondel to the factory for additional modification, while Bond's Bentley's were 'mildly' modified (by the addition of an Arnott supercharger and coat of matt, battleship grey paint) or heavily modified (with a custom-built, two seater convertible body that Bond boasts is 'really convertible') depending on the book.

Taking all of this into account, it seems obvious now that in addition to being big, fast and luxurious, my Gingermobile will have to be uniquely modified. That's what makes it a 'mobile' rather than just a car.

Also, like The Saint's car and Bond's Bentley, the General Lee was perfectly suited for high octane adventure. It was fast and tough, with a big boot (for running moonshine) and comfortable seating for four or five people (with bench seats up front.)

What's more, there was something rough and ready about it. I used to love climbing in and out of the windows of Tiffany III. My new Gingermobile will also have to have 'fenestral-entry' and two doors, to make sure it's obviously 'sporty.'

So, thanks to the General Lee, my list of Gingermobile requirements stands at:
  1. Fast
  2. Big
  3. Luxurious
  4. Tough
  5. 'Rough and Ready'
  6. Two-door with a big boot
  7. You can climb in and out of the windows.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

The Saintmobile and the Bondmobile

Two of my major influences have been messieurs Templar and Bond (both pictured here by the same actor, Roger Moore.)

Simon Templar, the ubiquitous 'Saint', is quite simply the greatest adventure hero of all time. Suave, charming, debonair and brave, he personifies everything I idolize - even though about the only characteristic I share with the 'Robin Hood of Modern Crime' is a pathologically cheery outlook on life and a bent for flippancy.

James Bond, the 'blunt instrument' of Her Majesty's Secret Service, represents a dying breed of self-confident masculinity. Bond was an idealized version of his creator, Ian Fleming, who could eat, drink and womanize without restraint (which explains why Bond's still going, while Fleming croaked aged just 56.)

Both of them adored cars, and often appeared behind the wheels of vehicles lavishly described by the author. Although both Bond and Templar went through quite a number of vehicles over the years, they each have a trademark 'mobile which shares many of the characteristics I strive for in my own 'Gingermobile.'

The Saint's Car

When we first met Simon Templar, he drove a 'Furillac' - a fictional sports car with an American-sounding name (I often envisaged it as a Cord convertible, much like this one from A Kilted Travel Agent's blog.)

Templar later borrowed his friend Norman Kent's car - and after Norman died heroically at the end of The Last Hero, Templar adopted the 'Hirondel' and drove it throughout almost all of his European-based adventures.

Like the Furillac, the cars of the Hirondel Motor Corporation were fictional - however, we do know what they looked like. Author Leslie Charteris based Templar's cream and red Hirondel on his own twelve-cylinder Lagonda Rapide, meaning the car The Saint drove resembled something like this:


We know it was very fast, low-slung and practical enough to contain four people (who could be slung in and out of the vehicle with relative impunity, thanks to the convertible top.)

We also know the car did about 5mpg and the Hirondel Motor Corporation was based in Britain (and appeared to produce a limited number of these cars, practically assembling them by hand.)

Bond's Car

To most us us, the name James Bond is synonymous with 'Aston Martin.'

But while the movie incarnations of 007 have always been behind the wheel of that stylish brand of luxury touring car, the original James Bond was very particular about his choice of transportation. He drove a Bentley, plain and simple.

In Casino Royale, we were introduced to Bond's 1930 Bentley Blower, a super-charged 4½ litre Le Mans car in matt, battleship grey. As tended to become a habit with Bond, he crashed it at the climax of the story (car chases and martinis clearly don't mix, even in the 1950's.)

In later books, author Ian Fleming promoted Bond's chariot to the 'Bentley Continental Mark IV' - a car equally as fictional as Simon Templar's Hirondel. Although Bentley never produced a real Bentley Mark IV, it's fair to imagine it might have looked something like a contemporary Bentley Continental, like this one I've stolen from A Kilted Travel Agent's blog.


Bond suitably modified his car with an Arnott supercharger (leaving Rolls Royce no choice but to wipe their hands of this 'bastardized child') which allowed the Bentley to cruise at 100mph 'with 30 in reserve.'

Just like Simon Templar's Hirondel, Bond's Bentley fulfilled three major criteria:
  1. It was fast.
  2. It was big.
  3. It was luxurious.
Operation Gingermobile

Now I'm on the path to my future Gingermobile, I think it's important to look at what I've learned from James Bond and Simon Templar and put that information to work choosing my own Gingermobile.

If I had an unlimited budget, I think my choices would be expanded somewhat. At ideal candidate might be a Jensen Interceptor (which a television incarnation of Simon Templar actually drove in the 1980's.)


It combines speed, size and luxury with the good looks and polish of a fastback grand tourer.

Unfortunately, I don't have $20,000 to blow on a Jensen - but it has at least given me a bit of direction towards what car I'll ultimately select as my own Gingermobile.

Watch this space!