Customer Reviews

The Man Who Saved Britain: A Personal Journey into the Disturbing World of James Bond

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

I wanted dearly to love this book. There are too many contradictions in scope and tone to really love it. It is ultimately, merely a good book. Winder gently criticizes Fleming for writing novels to a certain prescribed length, yet Winder's own book feels this way. Winder is in the publishing business, yet his book is badly in need of an editor. Some critics laud the "journalistic" style, but I find it just sloppy and meandering -- an insult to journalists.

Winder has written a personal book as he takes great pains to repeat this. Part of the fun of the book is to quibble with his viewpoint. Honor Blackman does nothing for Winder, but she still all these years later sends me to the moon. However, the personal nature of the book does not rescue the rambling and snarky prose.

I understand that the book was not meant to be an historical or academic text, but the flow would have been greatly improved by using endnotes or footnotes for Winder's many asides, many of which are interesting or at least amusing. Winder's short exposition on the Skatalites is but one example. Important and interesting yes, but it disrupted the flow of his text and argument. Repeatedly Winder begins to say something interesting or states an interesting observation or conclusion, but simply leaves it with me wanting more. Much of the history was apparently very well researched (and Winder is obviously an intelligent and educated man), but much of the learning is lost by overtruncating the analysis and footnotes or endnotes would have greatly helped the exposition of the points Winder otherwise strained to make.

Winder also makes many errors and curious omissions regarding Bond lore. Some are the fault of childhood memory, which is both understandable on one level but nonetheless unfortunate. While Winder is trying to channel the perceptions of his youth in the sixties and seventies, too often he relies solely on memory or refuses to go back and revisit the specific movie. This leads to certain errors, such as discussing Bond going to Japan in "You Only Live Twice". Winder indicates that it was an absurd point of plot since Bond speaks no Japanese. Winder forgot the scene where Moneypenny tosses Bond a book of Japanese grammar or phrases. The Connery Bond reminds Moneypenny: "You forget, I have a first in Oriental Languages from Cambridge". Of course, in "Tomorrow Never Dies", the Brosnan Bond is completely flummoxed when faced with a Chinese language keyboard, but consistency was never Fleming's or the movie producers strong suit.

The most glaring error to me in Winder fleshing out the thesis of his book was the nearly complete lack of reference to Moneypenny and her role in the series. Apart from my adoring Lois Maxwell and her character, and finding the newest Moneypenny, Samantha Bond, incredibly sexy, the role screams for analysis under Winder's thesis: Moneypenny is Winder. Winder could have used Moneypenny as the narrator. Moneypenny is the audience. Moneypenny is the aspirational England that Winder is attempting to define and flesh out in the book. To me that is an inexplicable hole in the book that ultimately weakens Winder's overall argument.

A rambling, formless discourse on recent British history and pop culture and how James Bond (sort of) fits into them. Winder never quite gets around to explaining how James Bond managed to save Britain (nor what he saved it from), but is nonetheless entertaining. Reading it is akin to listening to a slightly intoxicated British fanboy nattering on about every Bond-related topic that comes to mind for three hours.

The premise here is so engaging that I'm not surprised the author got it published, but basically, it's such a self-indulgent ramble that it's not worth the time of people other than the author.

How can a person make the topic of James Bond and his 'disturbing world' feel so draggy that it takes real commitment to keep reading through the first 100 pages? If you'd like to know, read the first hundred pages of this book.

Like many, I came to this book expecting very little except that it be consistently interesting and fun to read. We're talking about James Bond here after all. The author repeatedly reminds us not to take his pontifications overly seriously, and that's fine, but in that case, we shouldn't have to be bored.

I would strongly recommend not reading this book. It could have been covered in a long magazine article or, as I said, as the occasional comment on a blog about James Bond.

James Bond actually features surprisingly little in this dreary book - the author essentially uses Bond as a stick to beat Britain with as he indulges in a vigorous and relentless workout exercising his personal loathing of his own country and its 20th century history. The author has an impressive knowledge of the Bond books/films and their creator, and I have to admit he writes very well (albeit rather smugly), but away from Bond this book is shoddily researched, as evidenced by the numerous factual errors. Not recommended.

The book is an entertaining and informative tour of British history and how it relates to the Bond phenemenon. The problem with the book is that the writer takes every opportunity to put down not only the British (or rather, English) but the west for its imperialism, racism, and general overall stupidity. Those evils are found in every nation. Only in the west did the perpetrators admit their mistakes and give up power without bloody wars. Only in the west is racism considered to be a terrible thing. Other peoples are still doing their best to be imperialist and racist, witness Darfur. I'd rather hail from a culture that has fantasies like Bond, than realities like suicide bombings and honor killings. Bond may indicate negative aspects of western culture, but he also indicates negative aspects of human culture. He also indicates positive aspects of the same, heroism, bravery, willingness to sacrifice oneself, patriotism. No nation can survive without these qualities to some degree.

Also, I'm not so sure as the writer says that Bond is a result of powerlessness. He is very popular in the US and we are certainly not powerless. On the other hand, he is also popular in every other part of the world where people are allowed to see him. The fantasy appears to be universal. There is hardly a nation where you can go where people don't know 007.

Earlier this year, I read a find book entitled: The Tour de France, a cultural history. It's a fine book, and it shows the links between French culture and perceptions of the Tour. This is light years beyond it. This book is a cultural history as well, and shows the links between Ian Fleming's Bond character and post WWII British history, but does it in remarkably entertaining way. It parallels the Bond stories and the last gasps of the British empire, and ties the miserable state of Britain's economy in the 1970's to the Roger Moore film versions of Fleming's books. This book is one of those rare triple threats: Funny (hilarious at times), perceptive, and thought-provoking. If you're looking for the Compleat James Bond, look elsewhere. But for a bracing, enlightening view of a cultural icon, get this book. Mr. Winder brings a wide breadth of knowledge and arcana to bear on the subject.

One of the great appeals of James Bond is his accessibility. The books and movies are specifically created for mass appeal so when someone produces a book with Sean Connery, in trademark Bond pose, on the cover you might assume that this is likewise intended for mass appeal. You would be wrong. It's like James Bond as brought to you by Alistair Cooke of Masterpiece Theater; stuffy and boring. Much of the book has nothing to do with Bond it's mostly just lamenting by the author on the decline of Britain's global influence post WW I. In fact if Bond is supposedly the titular `Man Who Saved Britain' I don't even know how that makes sense since all the author ever credits Bond with is giving Brits a temporary false fantasy about their country's global reach even as it withered. I also don't know why he describes the `World of James Bond' as `Disturbing'.

For the life of me I cannot figure out what the point of this book is. The author doesn't even seem to be much of a fan of Bond. He opens the book by describing `Live and Let Die' as dreadful and pretty much waves away all the Roger Moore films describing Moore as someone with an `odd-shaped head'. This joking about Moore's physical appearance continues through the book which is ironic given the authors moon shaped, doughy head shot on the inside back cover. He shows not the slightest respect for George Lazenby or Pierce Brosnan but regards both of their tenures as complete garbage and Timothy Dalton seems to barely exist but certainly merits no praise. This came out prior to Daniel Craig so obviously no mention. Clearly Simon Winder is a Sean Connery man, right? Connery is described as a, `horrible actor outside the narrowest of ranges' and a `pampered Scots superstar with a limited acting range'. Ouch. He also slams Connery's entire filmography outside of the semi obscure `Robin and Marian'. At one point he winnows the entire Bond film series down to just four good movies, those being the first four and later decides that only `From Russia with Love' and `Goldfinger' are any good. I can accept some criticism of Moore's tenure but when he slams the soundtrack of Moonraker that's just stupid. Regardless of its flaws Moonraker had one of the best soundtracks of any Bond film. Winder doesn't just criticize the films he slams them. About the kindest thing he calls them is daft but generally he considers the series utter trash and an embarrassment to cinema.

The first half of the book is little more than the author dropping name after name of obscure British authors, actors, politicians and then occasionally bringing it back to Bond. But if I've never heard of the book or film that supposedly has some tangential tie to Bond it's meaningless to me. Even the author seems aware of how boring and pointless his book is as he twice questions whether anyone is still awake after reading up to that point. All self deprecating humor aside he's absolutely correct. This book is a cure for insomnia. The first half of the book seems intent an avoiding talking of Bond merely referencing obscure films and literature and the second half exists just to denigrate everything about Bond. He paints with a broad brush referring to all the directors, scriptwriters and actors as `failures' outside of the Bond films and every film after `You Only Live Twice' as intolerable with Moonraker being the point where it moved into the level of excrement. He considers `You Only Live Twice' to be stupid but gives it a pass because it's groundbreakingly stupid as opposed to later films that just ape its formula. As a huge Bond fan I beg to disagree.

Who in the world is the target audience? The author seems earnest and sincere about his writing and I'm sure in his own odd way he is a Bond fan but Good Lord with friends like Winder the Bond franchise doesn't need enemies. The author gives the appearance of someone who despises Bond and hates his home country of England. I imagine if Winders wife asked him how she looks in a dress he might reply, `You look awful and ridiculous and haven't looked good since our third date and even then you were only slightly better than average but I do love you dear'. This book was given to me as a gift from a friend (which is where my story falls apart) so it was no loss of money for me but I cannot recommend this book to anyone besides Bond haters, masochists and insomniacs. What a dud.

I understand how Simon Winder's book infuriates some readers. It is a self-indulgent book, even a curiously masochistic one. Winder's second- and third-guessing attitude toward 007 makes him slightly suspect: he's a man so suspicious of 'fandom' and even 'completists' (for a film scholar this is a curious attitude) that he seems determined to make himself, and you, feel dirty about ever taking pleasure in James Bond at all.

Then again, when the fits of hysterical laughter subside after you read his boarding-school confessions, you may understand!

This is the sort of bloggily informal, but very personal and argumentative, book that makes for compulsive reading, even as you dissent bitterly from his positions.

After all, Winder essentially limits the film canon to the first four Connery films ("Thunderball" he thinks drags, and he has deeply unkind things to say about "Doctor No"). Maybe it's hard to exalt the others to that level (though what about OHMSS!?). But many of his criticisms sound not only unjust, but odd. "Moonraker" may be many sorts of awful [though personally: I enjoy it!] but has anyone really thought it poorly photographed? And even as he marvels, rightly, at the "sensuous marvel" of Maurice Binder's "Diamonds Are Forever" title sequence, he laments that the small screen reduces it to a kind of "zany cat-food commercial." That's a clever way to put it, but to my ears it only heightens the maniacal genius of its vision. What's wrong with a zanily inspired cat-food commercial, pray?

One fears Winder is too dyspeptic to make much of a film critic: I imagine him the sort of person who would pick "A Man for All Seasons" as the best film of the year over "8 1/2" (as Judith Crist infamously did) because it's more 'tasteful'. Yet he catches a lot of things, about Bond and about Britain, that sound pretty spot-on, even if he overplays his hand at selling hard truths. He mocks the geopolitical absurdity of a Britain celebrating itself as a world power, as though it were entitled to a seat at the table equal with Russia or the USA. He records the hilarious fate of a dollhouse confiscated for a Hidden Fortress by his boys, with some clear-eyed observations on the genders. And on the mixed legacy of Fleming's prose, he seems fair enough, highlighting his gifts for memorable turns of phrase and villainous characterizations as well as the starkly un-PC elements undeniably there. Considering that Fleming's novels fell out of print for a while in America, I'd say Winder on balance is doing him a service to point up his highly readable qualities for new readers.

And I'll give him everything about the Brosnan years.

Read it to disagree, to tsk tsk, even to throw it against the wall. But do read it. It's hilarious, confessional, and heart-felt, even if sometimes madly wrong. You're even entitled to agree with him, once in a while.

If you thought self-loathing citizens were unique to the US, you just need read this book. A self-admitted communist, Winder seems to be embarrassed about being a Brit and argues that James Bond represents the evils of a capitalist society. This in just the first 15 pages. In to the trash it went.

After I read the book I had to see if this was the same Simon who is a judge on American Idol. Fortunately for us, he isn't. The author reminds me of a crying kid who discovers there is no Santa Claus. I have read countless books on Bond, Fleming and the Bond films. I have even used James Bond in the classroom and have met personally several of the Bond film stars. This book ranks at the bottom of the list and I wish I could give it a tenth of one star. One star is too good. The man is trying to sell a socialist agenda in his retelling, often not accurate, of England's history from 1914 to the present. James Bond for him is just an excuse to give what he admits is a personal journey. However, his commentary on the books and films is absolutely ridiculous. Especially his description of the Bond women who he considers pretty bland. Well I happen to know eight of those ladies personally and he really must have been out for popcorn when they were on the screen. Hey, if Great Britain is so bad, do us a favor and don't come to America. You'd get a better reception in Cuba or China. I am not saying the Bond books and films have no problems. I am saying he is using them to grind his own personal axe over what he feels is wrong with Great Britain and possibly Western society. I don't want to be completely negative. The book has a nice cover. A cover that doesn't reflect his own dark attitudes.