Bond. James Bond. Join me as I read all of the James Bond books in 007 Case Files, encompassing Ian Fleming and beyond. For Your Eyes Only: there’s spoilers ahead.
John Gardner’s fifth crack at Bond is, in the words of future Bond author Raymond Benson, “far and away [his] best James Bond novel.” Which is a pretty high bar given that he wrote another 11 books in the series after this.
The plot is simplicity itself. Bond is in Europe to pick up his elderly housekeeper May. Yet he soon finds out he has a bounty on his head from Tamil Rahani, the current leader of SPECTRE (last seen in Role of Honour). When Bond’s faithful elderly housekeeper May and the visiting Miss Moneypenny go missing, he sets off to rescue them while also running for his life.
Along the way, Bond meets two of the more memorable ‘Bond Girls’ in the history of the franchise: Principessa Susan “Sukie” Tempesta, a former nanny and Italian aristocrat and her bodyguard Nannie Norrich. The plot barrels forward in a pleasingly fast-paced manner, as Bond is alternatively attacked, betrayed and grabbed between Europe and Florida.
“Listen to me, James. Rome’s coming to you. You, I repeat you, are in the gravest danger.”
Gardner at least tries to invest a little more female characterisation this time out. We have the classic dichotomy of the so-called ‘good’ and ‘bad’ female counterparts, although the models aren’t as tropey as they are in previous outings. Sukie is as solid a companion as any, and has one of the more dramatic assists in the final chapters. Mind you, she’s described as having “the sort of body that men dreamed of finding alive and wriggling in their beds.” This would be reductive and sexist (not to mention disturbing) if Bond didn’t have a history with not-so-alive women turning up in his boudoir.
Her bodyguard Nannie runs an all-female outfit staffed by “a special kind of woman” trained in weaponry, martial arts, and various vehicular trickery. There are shades of Pussy Galore in her characterisation, albeit less coded than Fleming’s offensive description of “unhappy sexual misfits” in Goldfinger. She is the most interesting new character at least, and would have made for an excellent equal were it not for her ultimate fate in this book.
On the flip side, there’s May and Moneypenny, virtually fridged for the duration of the book. The former is described as the “one constant in his not uneventful life” (apart from “the Service,” of course), although one has to admit to her not being a standout recollection from Fleming’s novels. “007 would go to his own death to save the lives of people like May and Moneypenny,” Gardner tells us, although Bond resents that “mere women had rescued him” only pages later. He’s a complex man.
“‘Never trust a faithful friend,’ Bond said with a wry smile. ‘It always leads to tears before bedtime.'”
Where Gardner truly excels is in the final gripping chapters. They are still filled with the violent excesses that Gardner had previously been criticised for — including a beheading! — but it’s so sandwiched in between plot twists and explosions that it’s hard to dwell on it too long. In short order, Bond has to escape from a guillotine, Nannie reveals herself as a SPECTRE operative, Bond kills Rahani on his death bed, and the villain’s secret HQ (on Shark Island, no less!) explodes.
From it’s iconic title to its relentless plotting, NOBODY LIVES FOREVER feels like it should have been destined for the big screen. You can already hear the theme song in your head, right? Probably sung by Dua Lipa. Indeed, a casual internet search will yielded dozens of fan posters casting Sean Connery and Daniel Craig in the adaptation. (The Italian paperback goes one step further and puts a bearded Pierce Brosnan on the cover). Yet like most of Gardner’s novels, it remains purely a print product. It’s classic Bond in every sense of the term, and a great jump-on point for those curious about the continuation novels.
James Bond will return…in No Deals, Mr. Bond.
