Lessons from Ian Fleming, part 1

[skip.knox]

There have been threads about where to start a novel, about how much detail to include, about reading outside the genre. Rather than respond to each, I'll just start this.

I happen to be reading Fleming's books; a friend gave me the whole set. Rather to my surprise, it's been a pleasant read. Not great literature, or even great adventure, and some passages are a little jarring, but I'm still going after four novels, so he must have done something right.

Perhaps because the stories don't fully engage me, I'm better able to pay attention to the writing itself, and I've noticed a few things; specifically, the items mentioned above.

WRT 1: From Russia With Love starts strangely. He starts with the Russian secret service. Not just for a chapter, not for a few, but for about the first third of the book. James Bond doesn't enter until Part Two. Anyone who has seen the movie knows it begins in Istanbul and Bond appears very early. In the book, we don't get to Istanbul till halfway through. Fleming could certainly have started the story there. Why doesn't he?

I have a couple of ideas. One, he's showing off. Fleming loves to demonstrate his knowledge of secret service organizations. But that was secondary, I think. His choice actually works well because we meet a number of very nasty characters, getting backstory for each. It's not quite one chapter for each character, but it's close. All these conspire together to set the trap for Bond. So, when we get to Part Two, and our hero and his organization start taking the bait, we know not only that it's a trap, we know in detail how dangerous it is.

I'm pretty sure that if I had a plot, and I asked if I should start my book the way Fleming did, with the MC not appearing for a hundred pages, that I would be advised to start the story in Istanbul. So, I present all this as an illustration of a principle voiced here many times: any approach is fine, if the author can make it work.

 

[skip.knox]

Erg. I forgot I can't change the subject line. *shrug*

Part 2. Details, details.

Fleming loves details. It's one of many aspects of the Bond stories that fails to make it to the big screen. When Fleming describes Bond dining, which he does nearly as often as GRRM does, he gives details down to the brand name of the butter. When he talks about cars, it's like a gearhead talking. Guns, clothing, flora and fauna, you name it and he's researched it. He'll spend whole paragraphs on the stuff.

Sometimes, the passages are obviously relevant. He'll tell us about a gun and later on Bond uses it. There may have been nothing special about it, no tricks or gadgets, but we can picture it. We know what that Beretta .25 looks like, how it fits in his hand, why it's his favorite. Sometimes, the passages aren't obviously relevant at all, such as which kind of whiskey Bond drank at that one bar, or what cigarette the head of the agency smokes. It's as if Fleming has an aversion to just saying whiskey or cigarette. He has a compulsion for precision, especially with brand names. It's almost like the person who has to mention the brand of the shoes he's wearing.

I guess you would have to decide for yourself if his descriptions are "too much", but if overall sales are an indicator, it's at least not an entirely bad thing. So if you love to put in descriptions, be encouraged. You can get away with it.

Oh, and you might take a look at a Fleming book or two, not for the descriptions themselves, but for how they are placed. I think he does a good job of using them to establish pacing.

 

[skip.knox]

Part 3: genre reading.

Well, obviously, I'm reading outside the genre. But maybe less than might first be thought. One could make a small case that the Bond stories as a kind of fantasy. Not just because the character and the plots are fantastical, but because Fleming always gives us (by "us" here we really mean his English readers) exotic locales. So the needs of description are similar. Even when we're in London, we're mostly in the offices of the service or in other interiors seldom seen by ordinary folk. He describes power hierarchies hidden from the general public. And so on.

Anyway, there's evidence of Fleming's outside reading as well. In one book he quotes Patrick Fermor (whom I have mentioned here before) on Jamaica. In another, he quotes an American journalist on gambling in Saratoga. It's whole paragraphs, even whole pages long.

In short, there's obviously good reason to read outside the genre. More to the point, imo, there's no specific reason to do so. That is, there's no predictable benefit, so you just have to read and read widely, because you never know when you are going to stumble across something useful. I've found two sorts of usefulness for myself. One, specifics that I can use either directly or by transference. Fermor was that for me. I got specific settings, words, or scenes from that treasure chest. The other usefulness is gaining perspective--new ways to think about my own writing. That's what I've got from Fleming here. There's no way in the world I could have said I'm going to read the Bond novels in order to get X or Y from them. I read them because I got them for free, as a kind of literary lark. The result was my two old friends, Sara 'n' Dippity.

 

[George Lightgood]

Bravo Skip, well thought out posts! I am a major Ian Fleming fan. I look at him similarly to Tolkien in the sense that both were from similar time periods and backgrounds and their stories are more raw and "darker" than one might think.

 

[psychotick]

Hi,

Well I can honestly say I've never read any of the books - it's too far out of my genre. But I think you were bang on with the conclusion of your OP. Any approach is fine if you can make it work. And I'd add to that, any perceived weaknesses are allowable if the writer can cover them with enough strengths. So the real question is: what are the strengths that allow the books to have these weaknesses and still be good?

To my mind they start with the MC. He is a hero / anti-hero sufficiently engaging to make people forget the parts of the book that were less engaging. Then there's the world build. You say too much detail. Others would say enough to bring that world to life for the reader - and yes you're right - it is a fantasy sort of world. It needs more world build than one set in the world we all live in everyday. Then there's the plot. Is it interesting enough to fascinate a reader in its own right. And lets compare it here to something like a detective story - which I do occasionally read. I like twists and turns. I like having things turn out to be not as they appear. I like to be fooled - as long as it all makes sense in the end.

But the one thing I would take from your posts on the books, is that there are no true rules in the writing game. There are only guides, and most of them can be overcome with a little work. This is a creative game and often doing the wrong thing according to the conventional wisdom can actually be what makes the story. For example I keep wondering why I read the first few ASOIAF books? Every damned character I started to find myself engaged with ended up dying horribly, usually after doing something so despicable that I could scarcely stand him or her. Yet I pushed through the first three books before I was finally overcome. Why? The only answer I have is that despite all the simple awfulness of it, it's good.

Cheers, Greg.