Crimezine presents: The Spectre of Ugly Commercialism, an exclusive extract from the latest James Bond book, by Gilbert Ghost writer.

For the authentic Bond girl aroma—the sweet scent of money is unbeatable 007.

Open to panning exterior of Luxury Grupo Vidata® resort Mexico: thrill to the sight of a $20 million sponsorship deal that you too could be part of, for a low monthly fee. Grupo, inspiring generations of happiness™; for full details visit: Grupo Vidata.com.

It was one of those days when it seemed to James Bond that all life, as someone put it, was nothing but a heap of six to four against. He had just poured himself a contractually generous Belvedere vodka, [shaken not stirred] chased with a cool delicious Heineken™ [because all sophisticated international-playboy secret agents love fizzy kraut beer.] Sipping his delicious beverages, he realized that his eighty-five inch Sony® digital flat screen TV with high-contrast super-definition and picture in picture effects was on the fritz. Not to worry, he would have Q send over the Sony product placement boffins with a new one right away.

Bond turned to his Brazilian rosewood Gio Ponti desk rack, where his BOSE® surround-sound home theatre system with wireless XL30V5 speakers and Hideaway Acoustimass® module, incorporating TrueSpace® technology, was hammering out some Shirley Bassey-style tune. The song was unlistenably gruesome, penned by the latest Sony records flavor of the month hit-parade wannabe. The so-called tune was so bad it was even worse than Aha’s “The Living Daylights”. After lingering to run his fingers lovingly in close-up across several sumptuous consumer durables and cast an admiring glance across the semi-nude and still sleeping figure of Fanny Malarky—star player in the MI6 office typing pool, he remembered the Kohler™ rain-shower was still running.

Naturally, Bond’s bathroom routine was both rigorous, and extremely thorough, as marketeers had recognized the seven-figure product placement potential of such scenes and had rewritten the script accordingly.

After slipping on his Ralph Lauren silk boxers with 007 motif [Available in Harrods™ and other selected stores] He applied Mouse A Raiser shaving cream by Pour Hommes™ and pressed a hot towel to his face before unsheathing a twelve bladed Gillette Predator® razor by Proctor and Gamble™® [Multinational manufacturer of product ranges including: personal care, household cleaning, laundry detergents, prescription drugs and disposable nappies.]

Bond then utilized a generous squeeze of Greune nutrient complex natural revitalizing shampoo/conditioner containing D-panthenol and vitamin-B-complex polysorbate 80, a cleansing agent that contains natural herbs and exotic spices. He had no idea what this stuff was for; he used to get his shampoo in the dollar down discount store, but what the hell, corporate marketing had been shipping over this new shit by the truck-load—you can’t get better than free—can you?

Bond was a man who never used cologne on the face, as a Condé Nast beauty advertorial had advised against it. Instead he applied L’Oreal™ branded alcohol-free anti-bacterial toner, with a water moistened cotton ball to normalize his skin Ph levels— before applying emollient lotion and Gel Appaisant again by L’Oreal™ [“because he was worth it”.]

Bond: Shaken not stirred by commercialism. Can I get a Heineken with this barman?

Bond liked his knuckle-duster Rolex; but hadn’t worn it on screen since the mid 1970’s when a short-lived Seiko™ sponsorship deal precluded its use. Instead, he chose his “wrist close up” Omega Seamaster 300, because it was near the holiday season and would look good in glossy full page magazine adverts—providing an ideal, if somewhat expensive gift suggestion, for anyone too clueless to work out their xmas shopping ideas for themselves. [N. Peal Xmas sweaters, as worn by Daniel Craig available in the Foyer.]

Realizing the world would not save it’s self from megalomaniacal masterminds, Bond slipped in to a lightweight linen suit by Canali Milano, a cotton shirt by Ike Behar, a silk tie from the Bill Blass Collection, and cap-toed leather lace-ups from Brooks Brothers. He was about to head out the door, when he remembered he was being sponsored by Tom Ford Suits this season, so he rushed back to change. [Yes, the same Tom Ford who sells soap for $195 a pop.]

He had to hurry now; he had to fit in two car chases, a fist-fight and a dive off a snowy mountainside before lunch, not to mention a quick game of Baccarat at the Sheldon Adleson Casino Resort & Hotel™, Las Vegas. He entered the parking garage and a vicious dilemma hit him like an express train [an Amtrak grand-luxe™ American Orient train to be precise.] What car should he drive to day? Should he take the racy but yuppified Range Rover Sport SVR, or perhaps, the implausibly showy Jaguar C-X75 in douche-bag orange? Then there was his favorite, the latest Aston Martin DB10—he wanted to drive it wicked-bad. But ever since those bastards in North Korea had revealed those internal Sony emails showing he had written off $37million in Astons this year alone, those lizard-loving pricks at GEIKO™ had upped his insurance premiums to stratospheric levels. Maybe he would have to switch to State Farm®, or god forbid Triple A™. No, that was unthinkable. Those Whitehall bean-counters at MI6 would have to get on their Sony Experia 25’s and make calls. Maybe they should reconsider the $50million Samsung™ mobile phone deal?

Bond took a dry swallow of pure fear—using a non-Sony branded product on screen—the kind of crackerjack smart-phone that every nerd on the internet was laughing at? The humiliation would be…unthinkable… Still, $50 mil was $50 Mil…

To be continued next holiday season in: “James Bond, Sponsorship Is Not Enough. Crimezine thanks all relevant sponsors. Thanks also to Ian Fleming, and Brett Easton Ellis’ product placement classic, American Psycho.

Observe Mr. Bond, the latest lap gadget by Sony. Or/Is that the new Sony Laptop or are you just pleased to see me?

James Bond is back Crimeziners and this time he is going Solo

James Bond creator Ian Fleming

Crimezine notes that since the untimely death of James Bond creator Ian Fleming in 1964 there has been a veritable plethora of criminal masterminds sent to plague the world, how appropriate then, that James Bond should now return in a new novel Solo penned by Brit author William Boyd.

Fleming died age 56 from the very lifestyle he portrayed in the Bond books. Although many of his books had hit the heights of the bestseller lists by then, Fleming got only the slightest taste of the success Bond would become. Fleming visited the set of the third Bond film Goldfinger but died before its release.

It is perhaps ironic then that the first Bond book Casino Royale, published by Jonathan Cape in 1952, only saw the light of day because Fleming’s brother Peter, a well known travel writer, persuaded Cape to publish the book, which was thought to, “lack suspense.”

The Bond series went on to sell over 100 million books, making Fleming one of the most successful novelists of the twentieth century. The success came in spite of mixed critical acclaim that took issue with the quality of Fleming’s writing and the political, social and sexual ethics of the character he created.

Publishers Cape got over their initial reservations very quickly, and after the success of the original Fleming novels conspired with the Fleming estate to keep the Bond novels coming. The result was a coveted writing gig, that saw many veteran writers clambering over each other for the lucrative honor of writing 007 stories.

Many have tried with varying degrees of success to keep the Bond legend alive, from grand literary windbag Kingsley Amis, (who wrote Colonel Sun under the pseudonym Robert Markham) to Draculian doppelganger Jeffery Deaver, who produced the post 9-11 Carte Blanche in 2011.

Interestingly, Cape asked Amis to make suggestions for The Man with the Golden Gun, which was still unfinished at the time of Fleming’s death. None of Amis’s suggestions were used, but the great man subsequently wrote two non-fiction books on Bond directly after Fleming’s death, The James Bond Dossier and The Book of Bond (both in 1965).

John Gardener was the most prolific writer of “new Bonds” however. Between 1981 and 1996 he wrote 16 Bond Books—more than Fleming, who only managed 14. (12 novels & two short story collections.) Gardener wrote novelizations of the movies Licence to Kill and Goldeneye and is perhaps best remembered for dragging Bond into the 1980’s. But Gardner took the books in an increasingly ludicrous direction, that perhaps mirrored the Roger Moore era Bond movies. The results included the resolutely British Bond slipping into an increasingly mid Atlantic way of speaking, and plotlines that became ever more unrealistic. A famous and widely mocked example of this can be found in the novel Win, Lose or Die, where Bond rescues Margret Thatcher, George Bush, and Mikhail Gorbachev from the clutches of the Brotherhood of Anarchy. The book included much “glove puppet” dialogue between Bond and the famously hard faced Thatcher. Chortle.

American author Raymond Benson was next to take on the Bond franchise, producing an impressive 12 Bond Books—six novels, three short stories and three novelizations, including Die Another Day, and Tomorrow Never Dies. Benson moved Bond into the naughty Nineties, but restored much of the Fleming feel that came with the original books.

Completists will no doubt raise the name of Christopher Wood, who wrote novelizations of The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker in the seventies, Crimezine includes his name to avoid trainspotterish correspondence.

More recently,  Jack Reacher creator Lee Child has turned the Bond gig down on at least two separate occasions, after which Sebastian Faulks wrote the The Devil May Care, returning Bond to the Flemingesque 60s milieu.

But what of William Boyd? Boyd is an award winning novelist, screenwriter and Citizen of the British Empire. Although British, Boyd was Born in Ghana Africa and has written extensively on the continent of his birth, including the novel A Good Man in Africa, the story of a disaster prone British diplomat in West Africa. It is perhaps unsurprising then, that the new Bond novel Solo is set partly in West Africa, which will prove an interesting challenge, as many of Fleming’s original novels struggled with the idea of Britain’s place in the post colonial world. More reassuringly however, Boyd takes Bond back to 1960s London, a realm of glamour and excess that was the home turf for both Ian Fleming and James Bond 007, the worlds most famous secret agent.

Solo is released in the United States October 8^th 2013.

http://www.ianfleming.com/

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