Republished James Bond `biography` gets a grilling by UK press

19-Oct-2007 • Literary

Now here's a rum one. Forty or so years ago, John Pearson wrote a biography of Ian Fleming, having known and worked with him on a well-known and now unnaturally bloated Sunday newspaper - reports The Daily Mail.

Some time after came this book, a sort of fictionalised biography of Fleming's immortal creation. It's based on a simple but brilliant idea: that James Bond was a real person â indeed, a real spy â and that Fleming was writing up his adventures rather than making them up.

Pearson somehow extended this idea into an entire book, if not an entire career. This was his only Bond book. But why the past tense? Is this not a brand new book? Certainly, its publishers are promoting it as such.

On page one, Pearson talks about flying 'Pan Am, the world's most experienced airline', which I assumed was some sort of postmodern joke, as Pan Am went out of business years ago.

Later on, he talks about 'coloured' people and 'negros' and you think: 'Whoa!' You have to look at the copyright page to establish the truth: that this book was first published in 1973. Further espionage on my part revealed that the book has been out of print since the 1980s.

Reviewing books makes spies of us all. In 1973, then, when Pearson 'met' him, James Bond was in his mid-50s but still 'fit and bright-eyed ... There was no hint of a paunch or thickening hips'. He gives the 'real' story of his exploits, allowing Pearson to tell stories in full that Fleming had only hinted at.

It's all really a huge extended gag, but meticulously and lovingly researched. Occasionally, Pearson becomes playful. At school, Bond 'became known as a greedy child and, for a period, was extremely fat'. Well, why not? If Fleming missed it out, Pearson feels free to fill it in. The problem, curiously, is Bond himself. Pearson writes wonderfully well about the charismatic Fleming, but his 007 is strangely colourless. This is, after all, supposed to be literature's ultimate Alpha Male, but Pearson's Bond comes over as a collection of mannerisms and slightly bufferish attitudes.

Even David Niven got closer to the character than that.

And some of the writing is terribly lame. Bond loses his virginity to a girl from Martinique, 'short, slightly plump, demure and adept in the arts of love'. This was supposed to be the first in a new series of Bond books, but you can see why it never took off.

Charlie Higson's current series of 'Young Bond' novels are infinitely more entertaining, and they have a much clearer idea of who James Bond actually is.

A curiosity, then, but essential reading for Bond maniacs.