A Study of Adaptation - The Man With The Golden Gun

Well, this is the penultimate episode of this study of adaptation. The Man With The Golden Gun is the thirteenth book and final novel in Ian Fleming's series, published posthumously in 1965. It would go on to be the ninth entry in the film series, released in 1974 and starring Ian Fleming's cousin in the eponymous role. It was also the last film in the series to be produced by Harry Saltzmann.

The book takes place a year after the events of You Only Live Twice, so I'll give a quick recap; Bond lost his memory after an injury sustained during his final confrontation with Ernst Stavro Blofeld. While living as a fisherman in Japan (and feared dead by most of the world), he became fixated on references to Vladivostok and set out there to try and restore his memory.

Anyway, the book begins with Bond returning to London. However, it turns out that the KGB had brainwashed him to assassinate M, the head of the Secret Service. The attempt fails and Bond is captured and deprogrammed. To prove his worth, he is sent to the Caribbean to assassinate a KGB hitman responsible for the murders of several British and American agents. The assassin, Francisco Scaramanga, is known as "The Man With The Golden Gun" after his weapon of choice; a gold-plated six-shooter. He meets with his target in the newly-independant Jamaica and accepts a role as a personal assistant, where he learns that Scaramanga is helping to set up operations for American crime syndicates while also planning to carry out sabotage missions on behalf of the KGB.

In the film, Bond is put on a sabbatical after MI6 receives a golden bullet with his codename on it. M suspects that someone has hired Scaramanga to assassinate Bond to prevent him from locating a missing solar expert named Gibson. The famed "Golden Gun" was changed from a six-shooter to a custom-built gun made from a cigarette case, lighter, fountain pen, and cufflink. One which would always be an instant kill in the games.

One of the main reasons for the alternate story was due to the fact that the amnesia plot thread from You Only Live Twice was never used in the adaptation, along with the fact that the films had a loose continuity and didn't follow the same order as the novels. Therefore, it wouldn't make much sense to use the brainwashing element. The solar power plot thread was also added to tie the film to a then-contemporary energy crisis.

Furthermore, the film adaptation changes the setting from the Caribbean to Southeast Asia. This was essentially a cash-in on the recent success of martial arts films in the 1970s. I suppose for a film series as formulaic as James Bond, the filmmakers felt they should put the character in different genres as means to keep up with some zeitgeist. The previous film, Live and Let Die, did something similar with the Blaxpoitation genre. In a subsequent example, Moonraker tried to incorporate more sci-fi elements following the success of Star Wars two years prior.

Well, I'm almost at the end now. Just one more book to compare, which will be a lengthy post due to it being a collection.

Work Share - A Devil's Bargain

While I'm studying Creative Writing as a Single Honours, I also did an elective module in English Literature looking at adaptations. Well, most regular readers know this already, because of those posts I'm writing about the Bond novels. While the assignments in this module are more about full essays, I did have the option of doing a creative piece in one of them. Specifically an adaptation or appropriation of one of the set texts. With this in mind, I settled on a chapter from Kate Forsyth's Bitter Greens in which Charlotte de la Force arrives at the convent she was sent to, during which her writing equipment is taken away. It invoked bad memories of being in a job which I felt got in the way of my writing, so I utilised that in the appropriation.

When I said I’d have to sell my soul for a job in today’s market, I never thought it would end up being something taken literally. After six months of fruitless searching and unsuccessful interviews, I managed to get something at a firm called Rapunzel Ltd, after my dad made some arrangements with the director. I don’t even know what the company actually does. I’d much rather write stories, but my parents wanted me out of the house. I just wish they’d let me work in something that was part-time.
“There’s more work in accounts than there is in writing,” my dad would say, “And the money’s good. You’ll be of little use to people if you only want to work part time.”

It wasn’t the best start. I ended up being late on my first day because there was nowhere to park at the company’s shabby old tower in the middle of Stoke. I trembled as I saw the white steam billowing from the bonnet of my car. Joy, the director, stood at the front desk and tapped her watch. 
“Parking trouble?” She asked. I nodded, unable to get the words out. The smell of evaporated coolant lingers, and I guess she smelt it on me. There was little humour in her voice. Someone who certainly lives up to their name.

She led me down a corridor. I heard the clacking of keyboards and muffled phone conversations as we passed the numerous offices. Nobody looked up as I glanced through the windows. One person had a radio, which played "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton. She knew it best. This kind of work is all taking and no giving.

We stopped at a vacant office.
“Charlotte Forsyth – Accounts Administrator” the plaque on the door stated. My name and new role. That’s nice, I suppose.
The director beckoned inside. I stepped through the door and a light came on, revealing nothing more than a desk with a computer, and a revolving chair. It smelt of must. There didn’t seem to be any kind of heating, or even a window.
“This will be yours,” The director said.
I sat down, and felt a lump in the seat press into my back. Was this really the job my parents wanted me to have? How am I supposed to write if I’m working full-time?
“Welcome to the team at Rapunzel Limited,” The director said, “There’s a post-it on the monitor with your log-in details for that machine and for Sage.”
Fuck. I hate Sage.
“Your first order of business is to look at the bank reconciliations,” The director stood behind me as I switched the computer on. It seemed to stay on a loading screen and then delivered another message of woe:
“Windows 10 is updating.”
“Once I’m in, where do I find what I need?” I asked, “Are there physical copies of invoices and statements?”
“You’ll find everything you need on the machine. Now, I’m off to my holiday home in the French Alps for the next three weeks, but I’ll call you from there with updates.”
I felt the bile building up in my throat. Was that where the name came from? Being trapped in a tower by an absent boss? I guess Joy didn’t pay much attention to symbolism.
“Seriously?” I said.
The director said nothing, but I could read her face. Do nothing without the director’s approval. Do not speak unless spoken to. Remember that every day, you’re doing something wrong. Silence is golden. Like most jobs I’ve been in.
“Have fun.” She left the office.
“Just a moment,” I said, “Is there anything I can do while the computer’s updating?”
No answer. I reached into my handbag and pulled out my notebook. If there isn’t much to do, I might as well draft some ideas for when I get home. I also pull out my personal mug. The one which says “Irritated Writer”. Regardless of whether I’m doing accounts work or my notes, I won’t be of much use to anybody until I’ve had some coffee.

I go to the staff room at the end of the corridor. There’s nobody else in there, but it smells of microwaved fish. Opening one of the cupboards, I find a tin of cheap instant coffee. Decaffeinated instant coffee. My fists clench. I want to punch through the cupboard door. There is tea, though. Hopefully that can stave off the caffeine withdrawals.

When I returned to my office, my computer was still updating. Joy had reappeared, looking at my notebook.
“So, we haven’t scared you off yet?” Her view remained fixed on the notebook, “What’s this?”
I felt my heart beating.
“Story ideas,” I said, “I’m a writer.”
“Is that so?” She opened her own handbag, “Well, I’d love to see what you say.”
“Wait a minute!” I reached for the notebook, but it disappeared into her bag, “That’s my favourite notebook! I need to refer to it when I’m working!”
“You’ll have no use for it here,” The corporate hag sidestepped out of the office, “You come to work to work. I’m not paying you to write stories.”
I still had the pen. I wanted to ram it into her eye, but she seemed to glide out of the office before I could close the distance. The prison sentence would have been worth it. At least with prison I could look forward to getting out. Here, I’m stuck until I get fired or quit, then my parents will throw me out if I don’t get something else. If I speak to them about it, their only response will be telling me to become a mother.
“The responsibility will motivate you to work hard.” They’d say, “You’ll be glad to be out of the house, if nothing else.”
Now my notebook is gone, and with it any chance of writing my way out of this mental prison.

I think it is now clear; this is Hell.

Andrew Roberts, 2019

Special thanks to Kate Forsyth

Work Share - An Affair of Honour

My other entry in the Creative Portfolio was a re-work of one of my previous assignments in the module (The strict form and free verse poems). This could involve re-working the strict form poem into a free form poem or vice versa. Alternatively, it could involve making either into a prose piece. With this in mind, I wrote a flash fiction from my free verse poem, The Demon Fencer. This was based on a Halloween pub crawl I went on with the fencing club and encountering the History Society in the first pub.

Legends has a lot of empty space tonight, yet the stereo drowns out our chatter with Michael Jackson’s "Thriller". It’s early, so I don’t smell spilt drinks above the floor polish. Some of the tables are occupied by mannequins of Dracula and the Wolf Man. Not the best ambience, but they have Doom Bar on tap.

As I walk to the bar, I see people in different period costumes gathered at the corner table.
“Bugger…” I say under my breath. I forgot that the History Society meets here on a Wednesday. I pull my hat down. I try not to look around as the bartender pulls my pint.

“Nice of you to show up.” I hear someone say.
I turn. A man in a toga walked up to the bar. 
“Francis…” I look back at the corner table. They’re looking in my direction. One of them raises their middle finger.
“You didn’t want to go on our social?” Francis says.
“I didn’t have any historical clothing,” I give a nervous laugh.
“They’ll think you’re a traitor.” He says.
“You’re in the fencing club too, so…” I pull a glove from my pocket and slap him across the face. The onlookers fall silent.
“I accept.” Francis says, “The Watershed. Sunday. 10 o’clock.”

Andrew Roberts, 2019

Work Share - The Plan

My next few work shares will be from a "Creative Portfolio" I did for my Exploring Creative Writing Module (the same one with the strict form and free verse assignments). One part of this assignment involved writing a historical flash fiction. With this in mind, I decided to write about Julie d'Aubigny, a swashbuckling, openly bisexual adventurer and opera singer in 17th Century France. The Plan follows Julie shaking down a wandering minstrel who is known to pick up rumours and gossip.

If you wish to know more about this truly fascinating woman, I recommend watching this Extra History video they prepared on the subject.

The wind against the shutters adds unwanted percussion to my cittern piece. I ignore it, breathing in the smell of wood smoke while cursing the lack of audience and wine.

The door swings open. I hunch closer to the fire as I feel the cold gust fill the room. A woman of no more than eighteen years enters the Maison de la Couronne, rain dripping from a wide-brimmed hat and cloak. I see the rapier on her belt as she removes the cloak. She strides to the innkeeper, who nods in my direction and ducks.

“Merde…” I say under my breath as she approaches.

“You know who I am?” She looms over me.

I hear my own heart beating. I’ve heard many tales of Mademoiselle de Maupin, in the taverns from Paris to Marseilles. Few of them were pleasant.

“Did you not hear me?” She grabs me by the collar.

“What do you want with me?” I feel the sweat drip from my forehead, 

“I’m told you like gossip,” She says, “Have you heard of Fleur LaBelle?”

“Fair-haired and beautiful,” I nod, “I used to see her in the marketplace. I heard her parents sent her away.”

“Where?” She leans closer.

“The Order of Visitation.” I’m shaking, “Avignon. I don’t think they permit visitors.”

“That’s my problem, but I have a plan.” She tosses me a livre before heading to the door.

“Wait,” I stand up, “What’s your purpose for this? Why do you seek her?”

She pauses, and turns.

“Because I love her.”

Andrew Roberts, 2019

Work Share - The Demon Fencer

My next work share is from a second poetry assignment in the Exploring Creative Writing module. The first assignment had been on strict form poetry, and this one looked at free verse. Based on a single word prompt, "Try", I decided to look at how I enrolled in my university's fencing club. I write swashbuckler fiction, so I can consider it "research". My submission, The Demon Fencer, looked at my experiences within the club. I suppose I'm a "casual" fencer, because I didn't take part in any competitions last year, but I might give that a go next year.

Office work made me feel blue, so I’m trying something new
Studying Creative Writing, with research around fighting
No, not a drunken brawl in the pub. I’ve joined the Fencing Club
Sunday at the Watershed, which does mean getting out of bed
Put on the kit, grab an epee, time to plug and play
Parry, feint, riposte. Win with a rakish cackle like Errol Flynn
Like d’Artagnan vs Jussac, or Inigo vs the Man in Black
They do socials too. Go out for a pint. Or a few.
Try the Firebug’s A&E? Dost Mefinitely!

Andrew Roberts, 2018

A Study of Adaptation - You Only Live Twice

Before I start, I feel I should post a content warning; this source material discusses suicide.

You Only Live Twice is the twelfth book in Ian Fleming's original series, published in 1964. It was also the last entry to be published in his lifetime. It would become the fifth entry in the film series, released in 1967. This was one with significant changes, due to the fact that the book takes place after On Her Majesty's Secret Service but the film takes place before it.

In the novel, Bond has let his life slide after his wife's murder and is on the brink of being dismissed from MI6. M instead gives him a last chance with a "promotion", re-assigning him from the 00 Section to the Diplomatic Branch. His mission is to meet with "Tiger" Tanaka, the head of the Japanese Secret Service, to offer access to a British intelligence source in exchange for access to Russian radio transmissions intercepted by the Japanese. Unfortunately, Tanaka has already infiltrated the source being offered. He asks Bond to assassinate Dr Guntram Shatterhand, a Swiss botanist who has occupied a castle in Kyushu and set up a garden full of poisonous plants which many people have broken into with the intention of committing suicide. Bond later discovers that Shatterhand is actually Blofeld, and sees an opportunity to pursue personal revenge.

In the film, Bond is sent to investigate the disappearance of an American spacecraft, for which the Russians are being held responsible. After faking his death in Hong Kong, he is sent to Japan to follow a potential lead. With the help of Tanaka and one of his agents, Aki, he soon implicates a chemical company owned by Mr Osato. It then transpires that the company is a SPECTRE front, and that they seek to trigger a nuclear between the United States and Soviet Union at the behest of another power (presumably China, as the film came out after the Sino-Soviet split).

As stated above, one of the main reasons for the changes was due to the different running orders between the book and the film (something similar happened with From Russia With Love and Dr No). There was also the fact that Roald Dahl, who wrote the screenplay, considered the novel to be unfilmable. The plot is minimal, and most of the book seems to be dedicated to being a travelogue of Japan.

The film retains the presence of Blofeld, the Japanese setting, and the characters of Tanaka and Kissy Suzuki (a pearl diver and former movie star). A couple of elements from the book were utilised, but changed:

• In the book, Bond is introduced to Tanaka through Richard 'Dikko' Henderson, an uncouth and vulgar Australian intelligence officer. He seems to have a lot of respect for Japanese culture, but is jaw-droppingly racist with regards to aborigines. In the film, Henderson is a British agent operating in Japan, who is a lot more reserved.
• In the book, Blofeld's headquarters was a coastal castle in Kyushu. In the film he uses an elaborate underground base built into a volcano. This was simply because there weren't any castles built by the coast.

Furthermore, there are some elements from the novel which didn't make it into the adaptation, but there are faint echoes in later films:

• Bond's new code name is 7777. This was alluded to in the release date of The Spy Who Loved Me; 7th July 1977.
• At the end of the novel, Bond is feared dead and his obituary is printed in The Times. This element would later be used in Skyfall.
• A possible one: I've been reading about how Lashana Lynch is being cast as a character who takes over the code name of 007 in the next Bond film. As stated above, Bond is no longer in the 00 section in this story, so there's a perfect opportunity to explore that element.

We'll see how that plays out next year.

Work Share - The End of an Old Life

My third and final piece for the Creative CV was based on the day I was fired from my job in 2018. I'd been working at that particular job for 18 months, but I was struggling to fit my writing around the five-day work week. I'd become depressed, and started acting out on Twitter about why I hated working for the company, not caring whether or not I got caught. Eventually I did get caught, but at that point I was already putting together a plan to leave.

Personally, I don't think people should have to work five days a week. If your job isn't your career, you don't have kids, and you don't have something else lined up, working five days a week doesn't bring much other than a serious mental health risk.

The End of an Old Life depicts this, but with an added twist to reflect the desensitising nature of a soulless workplace.

Pirates and Emperors, mate. I’m at work five days a week with four weeks’ holiday a year, one of which I have to take at Christmas. Add to that a boss who takes three times that much time away at their holiday home in the French Alps. Anyone will decide that just because they’re always at work doesn’t mean they’re going to be working. I’d relish the thought of calling them out on that. But I don’t.

I encounter some of the worst drivers on the roads around Stoke. I want to get today over with, because I’m spending a long weekend in Tenbury Wells with my writer friends.
The director’s car is parked outside the office.

“Oh no.” I say out loud, despite being the only person in the car. I got that email about the state of my desk yesterday, so I imagine I’m going to be chewed out over that. I’ll make that today’s priority.

I find a space and saunter in. Even though it’s May, the office is cold and all the lights are on, as it’s positioned in way that never gets the sun. The smell of floor polish greets me, along with the director looking at me like someone else has just died.

“Andrew, I want a word with you.” The director says as I sit down.

This can’t be good. Using my full name and that fatal phrase.

“We’re terminating your contract.” He says. He’s blunt and to the point.

The clock’s ticking fills the room for almost a minute.

“Oh.” I reply.

That’s right. No jumping for joy. No blubbering. Nothing. Being dead can have that effect on a person.

“Your misuse of company IT is being considered an act of gross misconduct. I’ve seen what you’ve been tweeting about. It’s not what we’re paying you for.” Again, he doesn’t raise his voice.

“Don’t worry about me. If you’ve read my tweets, you’ll know my plans. I want to go to university and do a Creative Writing degree. Accountancy might be a good job, but it’s not my career.” I say.

“That may be. But I hope you learn from this.” He says.

I extend my hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Our handshakes do not feel firm. 

I return to the car and hear my own heart beating. I haven’t heard that in a while.

I’m no longer an accountant. I’m stealing back my soul. It’s time to catch up on lost sleep, get a few good books in there, and give my writing some much-needed care and attention. 

It’s time for me to live again.

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Work Share - Shangri-La

My second entry for the Creative CV was a piece I titled Shangri-La, and was based on my first visit to the Swanwick Writers' Summer School in 2016. I regard this as an important moment, because after going to Swanwick, I wanted to spend more time on my writing. In fact, I'd probably say that Swanwick was what influenced my decision to go to university in the first place. In a bid to put the reader in my shoes, I opted to write this in a second person point-of-view.

You cruise down the A38 towards Derbyshire, admiring the early afternoon sunshine in the cloudless sky as Status Quo’s “Rockin' All over the World” plays in your head. This is your first holiday not spent with your family, and you haven’t felt excitement like this since your school days.

The GPS directs you to exit at the Watchorn Roundabout, you follow the trees lining Derby Road before arriving at the rustic village of Swanwick. Driving through the narrower streets, you smile at the wedding procession leaving St Andrew’s Parish Church. It accentuates the summer scene in your mind.

You follow more back roads to the Hayes Conference Centre. The smell of freshly cut lawns permeate through the car’s air conditioning as you drive through the main entrance. More trees line the road, along with banners for the Christian organisation which runs the venue. A Victorian mansion looms ahead, still hidden by the trees.

You turn right. Another road gives you a better view of the main building; while leading you to a newer building. You find a parking space overlooking a small lake. Cutting the engine, you stay in your seat for a moment and take in the serene view.

After taking your bags to your room, you stroll towards the main house. Attendees mingle on the lawn with tea and cakes. Some wear yellow badges, catching up after the school weeks from previous years. Others wear white badges similar to yours, meeting for the first time. You notice a greater mix of age ranges than in your local writers’ group. An elderly couple wearing yellow badges sit on a bench next to one of the elaborate floral displays. Standing next to them is a girl in her late teens with a white badge.

You grab a cup of tea and join a group of so-called “White Badgers”. They ask the typical questions:
“Have you travelled far?” A poet in his early sixties asks with a broad Scottish accent.
“What do you like to write?” An American children’s author in her late twenties inquires.
“What do you do for a living?” A songwriter in his mid-thirties probes.

Most of these people seem introverted like you, but you feel comfortable as you converse with them. Perhaps you may find plenty of kindred spirits in the coming week?
You’ll want to come back next year.

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Work Share - Lost Opportunities

My next few "Work Share" posts are based on an assignment which involved a "Creative CV". Based on a similar part in Stephen King's On Writing, the assignment involved writing three creative pieces based on events in our lives which shaped us as writers.

My first piece, Lost Opportunities, is based on the difficulties I faced when I was in Sixth Form, which was when I originally started writing as a hobby. I struggled with the jump from GCSE to A Level (for any American readers, these qualifications are the UK equivalent of High School). In attempt to capture a moment from this time, I settled on when I started the second year and discovered that the girl I had a crush on had dropped out. In an attempt to mix things up, I decided to present the moment as a terza rima (this was written not long after submitting the strict form assignment). Sorry, it's a bit of melodramatic teenage angst. But it's why I write; escape.

Aged 17, and all I get is strife
Sixth Form blows
I’d rather pick up a knife

There are highs with the lows
A girl who takes my breath away
Her smile melts the snows

Exams looming every day
I want to get them over with
There’s plenty more to say

More exams loom like a monolith
I want to ask her on a date
Anxiety makes that a myth

“I’ll ask next time I see her”, but it’s too late
I return to Chetwynd; she’s dropped out
I’m in an awful state

It demonises my growing self-doubt
Anger the system is inciting
“Fuck exams!” I still shout

But there is little to gain from fighting
So I often find solace in my writing.

Andrew Roberts, 2018.

A Study of Adaptation - On Her Majesty's Secret Service

Since Fleming tried to pretend that The Spy Who Loved Me never happened, the next story in the so-called "SPECTRE Trilogy" is On Her Majesty's Secret Service. The eleventh book in the series was published in 1963, and became the sixth entry in the film series in 1969.

After the events of Thunderball, Bond is taking part in Operation Bedlam; the mission to apprehend Ernst Stavro Blofeld. However, years of fruitless searching has convinced him that Blofeld is dead and that Operation Bedlam is a wild goose chase. He even contemplates resigning from the secret service as he visits Vesper Lynd's grave in Royale-les-Eaux (from Casino Royale). This is interrupted by several chance encounters with the suicidal Countess Teresa di Vincenzo. He's soon brought before her father, Marc-Ange Draco, the head of the Corsican mafia, who believes that he should marry "Tracy" and give her a reason to live. As part of the agreement, Bond uses Draco's connections to trace Blofeld to the Swiss Alps under the assumed name of Comte Balthazar de Bleuville, a title he has asked The Royal College of Arms to recognise. Posing as a genealogist named Sir Hillary Bray, Bond discovers that Blofeld has been curing several young women of their allergies, but is secretly brainwashing them to deliver biological warfare agents to Britain's major agricultural areas.

The film keeps this story, but makes several notable changes:

• In the film, Bond meets Tracy in Portugal rather than France. As Casino Royale hadn't been officially adapted, the call-back wouldn't make any sense.
• Bond learns that he is being relieved from Operation Bedlam - as the prime minister believes it to be a wild goose chase - but is convinced that Blofeld is still at large. This is actually more fitting, as he'd already foiled four previous SPECTRE plots.
• Bond actually submits his resignation, but Miss Moneypenny secretly changes his request to one for a two week leave.
• In the book, Bond escapes from Piz Gloria after another British agent named Campbell is captured and interrogated, possibly blowing his cover. In the film, Bond is captured after his cover is blown by a combination of Campbell's confession, mistakes in his research of the Bleauchamp (rather than Bleuville) family history, and his seduction of Blofeld's patients.
• Tracy is captured while trying to help Bond escape. This gives Draco another reason to help Bond raid Blofeld's headquarters, but also gives Tracy a chance to take a more active role by having her lure Blofeld to where he's likely to be killed in the raid and take out one of his brutes.
• Additionally, the raid is necessary so that Bond can identify the "Angels of Death", and destroy the communications centre so that Blofeld can't issue their orders. In the book, the Angels are all detained as Bond escaped with their names.
• In the book, Blofeld's "Angels of Death" are all from Britain and Ireland. In the film, they're from all around the world.
• In the book, the Secret Service deduce Blofeld's scheme by matching the names of his patients and the agricultural outputs of where they're from. In the film, Blofeld contacts them explaining his plan and giving his demands: a pardon for all past crimes and official recognition of his noble title.
• The book also suggests that Blofeld is being financed by the Russians. This element is removed from the film, keeping with SPECTRE's recurring schemes which involve playing the West and East against each other.

This is also the point where Bond was appearing in print and on screen. It's the first story in which Bond is stated to be Scottish, a change which Fleming incorporated after seeing Sean Connery's performance in Dr No. There's even a cameo appearance by Ursula Andress, who played Honey Ryder, as a guest at a ski resort.

Work Share - Year of the Phoenix

Now that I've had all my first year assignments marked and returned, I'm allowed to publish them. Over the next few days, I'm going to sharing creative works I produced for assignments, starting with a ballad titled Year of the Phoenix. This was part of an assignment on Strict Form Poetry, and was based on the major life changes I went through in 2018.

2018 – A year of rhymes
With that bizarre old curse:
“May you live in interesting times.”
Life’s gone from bad to worse.

At least, that’s what I thought at first.
Stuck in a soulless job,
Waiting for my bubble to burst.
Always about to sob.

TV Tropes and comfort eating
Not what I am paid for.
Other than my workplace tweeting,
Writing output’s been poor.

Then it changed in the month of May.
Boss says “Andrew, you’re fired.
I’ve read your tweets. Seen what you say.”
Don’t care; I’ve retired.

Unemployment does have its perks:
Catching up on lost sleep,
Spending time on creative works,
Feeling less like a sheep.

But it’s now time for a new start.
Saying goodbye to Stoke.
I guess my sacking was – at heart –
A motivating poke.

“Go Bohemian for a spell”
A pipe dream for so long.
“You’ll have many stories to tell
With wine, women, and song.”

So now I have moved to Leicester
I’m sick of the fighting
With the management who pester.
Sod that; let’s get writing.

Settled in, started at Uni
I’m in a better state
You could say that I’m a loony
But for once, I feel great!

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Watch this space for more work.

A Study of Adaptation - The Spy Who Loved Me

I'm wondering whether or not I should have skipped this one. The Spy Who Loved Me is Fleming's tenth entry in the book series, published in 1962. It's also the tenth entry in the film series, released in 1977. It's also an example of an adaptation which has virtually nothing to do with the source material other than a shared title.

The novel doesn't even follow Bond. Instead, we follow Vivienne Michel a Canadian receptionist at a motel in New York state, who narrates the story from a first-person perspective. In the first part, "Me", she talks about her past and two previous relationships which ended poorly. The second part, "Them", brings her into contact with two mobsters, "Sluggsy" Morant and Sol "Horror" Horowitz, who have come to burn down the motel so the owner can collect the insurance money. The third part, "Him", introduces her to Bond, who was passing through and realises that something is amiss.

In the film, Bond is on a mission to investigate the mysterious disappearance of a British nuclear submarine. Following a lead in Cairo, he meets Major Anya Amasova, a KGB agent who is investigating the similar disappearance of a Russian submarine. Their investigation soon leads them to Sardinia, and a shipping company owned by Karl Stromberg.

Other than the title, the only thing both versions share is the appearance of the villains. In the film, Stromburg's henchman, Sandor and Jaws, are partly based on Sluggsy and Horror. Both Sandor and Sluggsy are short, fat, and bald. Meanwhile, Horror is described as being tall and thin, with metal caps on his teeth. Jaws takes this up a few steps by having the metal teeth which give him his name.

The novel would not have transferred well to film. It's too sexually explicit (and cringe-inducing), and there's the fact that James Bond doesn't even appear until two thirds of the way in. In fact, Fleming himself disowned the story. He requested that it wasn't re-printed and wouldn't even grant the film rights for it. This is why we have the differences.

A letter Fleming wrote to his publisher revealed that he originally wrote The Spy Who Loved Me as an experimental cautionary tale, when he heard that his books were being read by younger audiences who were regarding Bond as a hero. He concluded by saying that the experiment went wrong. However, the first Bond film, Dr No, would be released six months after the book was published. Since there would have more of a demand for the protagonists to be heroic on screen compared to print, I guess Fleming's goals for this story would soon be moot.

A Study of Adaptation - Thunderball

This post comes with a minor content warning, as there is a brief discussion of a possible sexual assault.

I think someone told Fleming that having Russian villains was old hat by this point. Thunderball is Fleming's ninth entry in the book series, published in 1961, and the fifth entry in the film series, released in 1965. Fleming initially co-wrote the story as a screenplay with Kevin McClory, which resulted in a legal battle. McClory would later produce a second adaptation, Never Say Never Again, released in 1983 but not part of the official film series (despite getting Sean Connery to reprise his role).

A criminal organisation known as SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion), spearheaded by Ernst Stavro Blofeld, has stolen two atomic bombs and are demanding a ransom from the NATO powers. Bond, who had been on leave at a health clinic after his last physical assessment, is sent to Nassau to investigate as part of Operation Thunderball. He soon becomes suspicious of Emilio Largo, a ruthless Italian playboy who is apparently conducting a treasure hunt with his luxury yacht, the Disco Volante. Bond also meets Domino Vitali, Largo's kept woman, and reunites with Felix Leiter, who has been brought back to the CIA.

The film adaptation pretty much remains faithful, but with a few changes here and there:

• Domino's birth name in the novel is Dominetta Petacchi, but her name in the film is Dominique Derval. While she was Italian in the novel, they changed her nationality with the casting of French actress Claudine Auger.
• While at the health clinic, Bond meets fellow patient Count Lippe and becomes suspicious of him after noticing a tattoo used to denote membership in a Tong. In the novel, Count Lippe overhears Bond calling his office over this and attempts to kill him with a motorised spinal traction machine. In the film, Bond is spotted searching Lippe's room by his bandaged neighbour, Angelo. This ties in to another change, so I'll discuss that when I get to it.
• After Bond survives the attempt on his life at the clinic, he and the nurse, Patricia Fearing, discuss the incident with the clinic's owner. In the film, they change this so that Patricia allows Bond to seduce her in exchange for his silence. That might have been OK in the sixties, but that really doesn't sit well today. Another example of the novel being less sleazy than the film.
• Lippe was using the clinic as a base of operations due to its proximity to an RAF base. In the book, he bribes Italian Air Force pilot Guiseppe Petacchi (Domino's brother) to hijack the plane carrying the bombs. In the film, he arranges for Angelo to have plastic surgery to resemble the French pilot, Francois Derval, whom they kill and take back to the clinic. This made more sense, because it gave Bond a clear lead in Nassau (he was originally assigned to Canada but asks M to send him to Nassau).
• In the novel, Petacchi is killed off once he has delivered the bombs to Largo, but it doesn't give a clear explanation as to why. 
• You could argue that it was silence him, but it contrasts an earlier scene which shows how SPECTRE works; Blofeld executes another member of SPECTRE for a sexual liaison with a girl they held for ransom. It's not made clear whether or not the liaison was consensual, but Blofeld's anger was over the fact that it breached the promise made to return the hostage unharmed (he actually refunds half the ransom over this). In the film, Blofeld has another member executed for embezzling money raised through a drug operation.
• In the film, Angelo demands more money after they kill Derval. He is killed by Largo afterwards for jeopardising the whole operation over this. Count Lippe is also killed over this (in the book he was killed for his childish feud with Bond).
• There's no reference to Largo's treasure hunt in the film. Neither is the reasons for Bond being sent to the clinic.
• The film also adds a new character; the SPECTRE assassin Fiona Volpe.

One reason for a lot of changes was that SPECTRE had appeared in the previous films, whereas in the novel they had just been introduced. This meant that Largo knows who Bond is, and discusses this with Volpe.

Well, that's about it. I suppose it was easy to adapt this one considering they already had the screenplay for it. Legal troubles aside.

The End of the First Year

Today I officially finished my first year of university. Well, I finished a while back. I finished my classes in April, I submitted my last assignment in May, and my loyalty card for the Students' Union diner expired in June. But today I learned that I've passed the year, and have also moved back home for the summer holidays.

University has been a fantastic journey for me. I'd initially been  scared away by A Levels, and believed I'd be more likely to get a job via the apprenticeship route. After six years working on and off in finance, I decided that I'd rather be writing and opted to study for a BA in Creative Writing. It's an adventure. And a chance for me to enjoy life before everything collapses.

I feel more suited to life at university than I do at work. I can make a routine which better fits my sleep cycle, and I have more of a social life. I've made a lot of friends through the societies.

I'd like to share some of my highlights of the year:

• Going on a Halloween social with the Fencing Club, where I was branded a traitor by the History Society in one of the pubs. 
• That same night, an American friend of another club member asked me if I could name all the US presidents and I started singing 'The President Song' from Animaniacs. 
• Finally, there was a shot called A&E (consisting of cinnamon vodka, sambuca, and absinthe) which left me hungover in my lecture the following day, and that was at 2 in the afternoon.
• Stepping into the role of Treasurer for the Game Society
• Seeing reindeer at the Students' Union during a Christmas market
• Asking Benjamin Zepheniah what the strangest thing he did in the name of research was (if you're asking, he said "Going to the barber")
• Volunteering at the Cultural Exchanges Festival, even performing a story at one of the events
• Attending the Varsity fencing match and realising I knew nothing about sabre or foil fencing (having only really practised with epee)
• Getting a serial published on a website set up by one of my classmates
• Performing poetry at an open mic night
• Going on a trip to the British Library
• Lending Kate Forsyth my pen

Yeah, I'd say that was pretty eventful. As for regrets? Well, I've managed to avoid any serious drama. I guess I wish that I'd socialised with my classmates a little more. I made some plans which didn't go ahead. And there were some societies I had to miss out on due to overlap. But there's always next year. One thing I have to acknowledge is that I'm older than a lot of my friends by at least six years. I suppose that can make me feel out of place at times. That'll be difficult over the summer, as most of my school-friends are working now. A lot of them are also getting married and having kids. I mostly stayed over the third term because there was more to do than back home, but I think being at home is liable to get lonely after a while.

I think the toughest thing I had to deal with was when the toaster and kettle were repossessed by my flatmate's parents. I'd assumed those were provided by the accommodation, but was mistaken. I got them replaced easily enough, and wasn't too inconvenienced by it. 

Here's to more adventures next year. And more rum.