This man has been killed with a fish, 007
"The Hildebrand Rarity"
From the June 1960 issue of PLAYBOY (later in the collection FOR YOUR EYES ONLY), this noir-influenced story is a real change of pace for James Bond. Instead of tackling a megalomaniac world conqueror, 007 gets tangled up in an unpleasant nightmare of domestic violence that ends in an amazingly bizarre murder. Fleming experimented with themes and styles in his short stories that the formula of his novels wouldn't allow and I wish he had worked more with a short format; he might have happier with his writing, as well, if he had done more subtle pieces to suit himself.
Loitering in the Seychelles after completing a minor investigation for M, Bond still has a week before he has to return to England. Tired of swimming all day in the beautiful waters, of drinking and carousing with local women (geez, wish I had his problems!), our boy decides to take up his old pal Fidele Barbey's offer. Fidele has agreed to help an American millionaire locate an elusive fish (the Hildebrand Rarity its own self) for a museum, and asks his British spy friend if he would like to go along. Bond says 'sure, why not?' and finds himself caught in a sordid mess on a luxury yacht with a vile rich boor and a beautiful abused woman.
The problem here is Milton Krest. He is the most overbearing and obnoxious lout I have ever met on a page. Krest is more offensive and unlikeable than most of the genuine supervillains who are planning mass murder. Actually, the only real weakness in this story is that Fleming lays it on so heavy with Krest that it feels like parody. (Fleming's American-style dialogue for this goon is also much too clumsy and unconvincing. "Sweet Fatty Arbuckle"?!) Despite his instant dislike of the man and major misgivings, Bond decides to stick it out to see if he can keep his cool and find that fish without beating the hell out of his host.
Then there's Krest's long-suffering and childlike wife, Liz. (Of COURSE she's a gorgeous blonde!) Krest treats her so badly that she's living in constant terror, and it's not just verbal browbeating, either. By their bed, Krest keeps an illegal manta ray tail, a vicious whiplike cord he calls the Corrector and he uses it on her if she says the wrong thing or doesn`t hop fast enough. To be honest, I was surprised that Bond didn't stand up to Milton Krest right away, intervene and maybe take over the boat and head for the authorities.
But in fact, although he is troubled and angry at the situation, 007 hesitates to jump into other people's lives and he watches the situation unhappily. This is a fairly normal human reaction not to get involved, and although it's not heroic, it does make Bond seem believable. He's made plenty of bad judgements and missed opportunities, just like the rest of us. (And this was 1960, a thousand years ago.)
Soon enough, the "beautiful red and black fish" is located and captured in a horrifying scene where Bond watches his host release poison into the water. That night, the celebrating Krest drinks a good deal even by Bond's standards, strongly insults both his guests, their countries and everything about them. Our boy comes this close to breaking the man's jaw but restrains himself. That night, he hears Liz scream as the Corrector is used and then there is another, more conclusive scream....
Yes, Milton Krest has gotten what he deserves. The Hildebrand Rarity has been forcefully jammed down his throat, the spines of the fish sticking out through the man's cheeks and mouth so that he couldnt yank it out and avoid choking ("Bond shuddered. Death must have come inside a minute. But what a minute!"). Well, Bond has had some experience disposing of corpses which are awkward to explain, and he promptly arranges it to look like an accident where a broken hammock tumbled Krest overboard. It sure looks like Liz has finally empowered herself with a fish as a liberator but things aren't that clear. Fidele was also aboard, drunk himself and also furious at Krest's remarks. Bond isn't quite sure which one of them did the deed, despite his best observations and the story ends on an ambiguous note.
Ian Fleming put some serious craft into this story. The plotting is tight and one event leads into the next believably. There's foreshadowing (a bit obvious, but still a useful literary technique) as Bond opens the story by killing a manta ray just because it looks so evil. Not long after, he finds the other ray tail by Krest's bed and realizes how cruel a device it is. This identifies the whip-wielding Milton Krest with the sinister manta itself.
Ian Fleming also gets in one more dig at the Germans, who provided many of his worst villains. When he learns that Krest's father was not only German but Prussian, Bond reflects in his least sophicated manner, "So that was it! The old Hun again. Always at your feet or at your thoat." (Hey, Ian, you just lost a few sales in Munich there.)
But the impression I retain most from this story is how much Bond (and his creator) loved sea life. There is much vivid sympathetic description of the little communities of fish going about their business as Bond contentedly watches. When Milton Krest dumps a keg of poison in the ocean to capture one tiny little fish, while killing everything else in the area, Fleming`s writing rings with outrage. ("Soon, to get one fish that someone vaguely wanted in a museum five thousand miles away, a hundred, perhaps a thousand small people were going to die.") And the fact that Bond himself is part of this slaughter just makes it worse.
_
From the June 1960 issue of PLAYBOY (later in the collection FOR YOUR EYES ONLY), this noir-influenced story is a real change of pace for James Bond. Instead of tackling a megalomaniac world conqueror, 007 gets tangled up in an unpleasant nightmare of domestic violence that ends in an amazingly bizarre murder. Fleming experimented with themes and styles in his short stories that the formula of his novels wouldn't allow and I wish he had worked more with a short format; he might have happier with his writing, as well, if he had done more subtle pieces to suit himself.
Loitering in the Seychelles after completing a minor investigation for M, Bond still has a week before he has to return to England. Tired of swimming all day in the beautiful waters, of drinking and carousing with local women (geez, wish I had his problems!), our boy decides to take up his old pal Fidele Barbey's offer. Fidele has agreed to help an American millionaire locate an elusive fish (the Hildebrand Rarity its own self) for a museum, and asks his British spy friend if he would like to go along. Bond says 'sure, why not?' and finds himself caught in a sordid mess on a luxury yacht with a vile rich boor and a beautiful abused woman.
The problem here is Milton Krest. He is the most overbearing and obnoxious lout I have ever met on a page. Krest is more offensive and unlikeable than most of the genuine supervillains who are planning mass murder. Actually, the only real weakness in this story is that Fleming lays it on so heavy with Krest that it feels like parody. (Fleming's American-style dialogue for this goon is also much too clumsy and unconvincing. "Sweet Fatty Arbuckle"?!) Despite his instant dislike of the man and major misgivings, Bond decides to stick it out to see if he can keep his cool and find that fish without beating the hell out of his host.
Then there's Krest's long-suffering and childlike wife, Liz. (Of COURSE she's a gorgeous blonde!) Krest treats her so badly that she's living in constant terror, and it's not just verbal browbeating, either. By their bed, Krest keeps an illegal manta ray tail, a vicious whiplike cord he calls the Corrector and he uses it on her if she says the wrong thing or doesn`t hop fast enough. To be honest, I was surprised that Bond didn't stand up to Milton Krest right away, intervene and maybe take over the boat and head for the authorities.
But in fact, although he is troubled and angry at the situation, 007 hesitates to jump into other people's lives and he watches the situation unhappily. This is a fairly normal human reaction not to get involved, and although it's not heroic, it does make Bond seem believable. He's made plenty of bad judgements and missed opportunities, just like the rest of us. (And this was 1960, a thousand years ago.)
Soon enough, the "beautiful red and black fish" is located and captured in a horrifying scene where Bond watches his host release poison into the water. That night, the celebrating Krest drinks a good deal even by Bond's standards, strongly insults both his guests, their countries and everything about them. Our boy comes this close to breaking the man's jaw but restrains himself. That night, he hears Liz scream as the Corrector is used and then there is another, more conclusive scream....
Yes, Milton Krest has gotten what he deserves. The Hildebrand Rarity has been forcefully jammed down his throat, the spines of the fish sticking out through the man's cheeks and mouth so that he couldnt yank it out and avoid choking ("Bond shuddered. Death must have come inside a minute. But what a minute!"). Well, Bond has had some experience disposing of corpses which are awkward to explain, and he promptly arranges it to look like an accident where a broken hammock tumbled Krest overboard. It sure looks like Liz has finally empowered herself with a fish as a liberator but things aren't that clear. Fidele was also aboard, drunk himself and also furious at Krest's remarks. Bond isn't quite sure which one of them did the deed, despite his best observations and the story ends on an ambiguous note.
Ian Fleming put some serious craft into this story. The plotting is tight and one event leads into the next believably. There's foreshadowing (a bit obvious, but still a useful literary technique) as Bond opens the story by killing a manta ray just because it looks so evil. Not long after, he finds the other ray tail by Krest's bed and realizes how cruel a device it is. This identifies the whip-wielding Milton Krest with the sinister manta itself.
Ian Fleming also gets in one more dig at the Germans, who provided many of his worst villains. When he learns that Krest's father was not only German but Prussian, Bond reflects in his least sophicated manner, "So that was it! The old Hun again. Always at your feet or at your thoat." (Hey, Ian, you just lost a few sales in Munich there.)
But the impression I retain most from this story is how much Bond (and his creator) loved sea life. There is much vivid sympathetic description of the little communities of fish going about their business as Bond contentedly watches. When Milton Krest dumps a keg of poison in the ocean to capture one tiny little fish, while killing everything else in the area, Fleming`s writing rings with outrage. ("Soon, to get one fish that someone vaguely wanted in a museum five thousand miles away, a hundred, perhaps a thousand small people were going to die.") And the fact that Bond himself is part of this slaughter just makes it worse.
_