Yes, by popular
request* here it is... The Charity Shop Book Review II – The
Revenge.
In the spirit of the
season, I'll do you two for the price of one... can't say fairer than
that Guv'nor...
So, Nosher; the
title of today's tome, the Nosher being one Frederick Bernard Powell.
Born in Camberwell between the Wars, 'Nosher' got his name partly
from his Dad, but mainly because of his famous appetite. The book
itself – perhaps mistakenly – is marketed as one of those
'Hard-Nut-London-Street-Fighter' memoirs, rather than what seems to
me the memoirs of an extraordinary life.
Let me qualify that;
yes, the fists certainly fly on these pages, but its the
circumstances; throwing Oliver Reed out of a party, 'Minding'
(English slang for Bodyguarding and generally 'looking after' the
client or V.I.P.) Sammy Davis Jnr and Paul Getty, then there's the
Movies – Nosher Powell was a film extra and later Stuntman. And
you've never heard of him. You might have seen him, if you've
ever watched (And this is a tiny percentage of the list) Ben Hur,
The Longest Day, Lawrence of Arabia, Cleopatra, Superman – every
Bond film from From Russia with Love to...point made yet? )
My
main problem (Apart from the head I've got from a night out) is this;
reviewing books is, frankly the errand of a fool – we all read the
same print, but the images and feelings the words invoke are,
essentially, internal. Put simply, one man's meat. I like
this book – I'm reading it for the second time, and that puts it in
a small club. It's not Tolstoy (I couldn't spell Dozhtoyesvksy.)
(Still can't – but as, Enid Blyton was the first name to mind,
you're lucky to get Tolstoy.) or Oscar Wilde, but frank in-yer-face
honesty - told in appropriate parlance from the man who has
literally seen the lot and shares the anecdotes with us.
Example;
Sammy Davis Jnr was increasingly riled that his Minder seemed to know
– and be known by – people everywhere. This came to a head when
the Billionaire Paul Getty walked past the Davis Jnr entourage –
'Good Evening Nosher' 'Good Evening, Paul'. The entertainer was left
incredulous, but this is from a man who, when on National Service was
locked in a ship's brig, only to find the jailer was an old mate from
his Covent garden days. One of those people you find who know people
everywhere, the kind that if set adrift on a raft in the ocean would
sail into port two days later on a friend's yacht.
The
whole thing is delivered with refreshing candour, with just
enough dirt dished to avoid
lawsuits or wooden overcoats – the latter a distinct possibility
given the alarming nature of some of the faces in the book. Highly
reccomended! - as you can see, skinflint here paid a measly three
quid, but seek this one out from Blake publishing (ISBN
1-85782-371-0)
For
more on the Powell family and their incredible contribution to the
007 Films, visit
http://www.jamesbondwiki.com/page/The+family+who+do+stunts+for+James+Bond
*Well,
its early days.
The Man Who Saved
Britain – A Personal journey into the disturbing World of James
Bond.
I'll
resist the usual temptations to sink into cheap cliché' (the kind of
cliché that sticks to your skin like $5 perfume on a hot Chicago
ni...Sorry.) So don your shoulder holsters and white tux and meet
Winder. Simon Winder.
Well...
anyway, this is one that prompts mixed feelings. Any Bond fans are
advised (As in the book) to look elsewhere, as this is no fact-filled
gadget and babe compendium – rather a sideways look at the
self-image of Great Britain after the war. The whole theme of
'Britishness' and its importance to a nation recovering from a second
helping of agony is the spine of the book. 'Our' Empire was just an
echo, a faded mirage – the reality; a bankrupt island facing
ruinous unemployment as the World started buying cars from the
nations we had fought so hard to defeat was, for many simply
unbearable. Fear and mistrust over immigration from former
dependencies added fuel to a brush fire of resentment from the
newly-independent colonies.
So,
Bond – now, me buy book with snazzy cover me learny lesson; I was
in a hurry, it said James Bond and those rascals at Picador put some
Bond-Babe silhouettes on the cover. Lucky. Its a fascinating read;
even though it is more about how Bond is a cipher, the man we want to
see in the mirror: a kind of plaster for national soreness than the
books or films themselves. The reality intrudes in jarring hilarity;
Winder is an Oxford old-boy (It shows; he knows all the words) and
one of his teachers was reputedly an MI6 recruiter; whilst Winder was
never asked (Could you ever...kill a man: if it was your duty, I
mean?) the only known spy recruited was a boy who had been
photographed in Nazi uniform; not the cleverest bit of head-hunting.
Since Winder's book (Which came out before Craig's Casino Royale)
(In my opinion the best Bond since Connery) pre-dates the recent
scandal involving a spy padlocked in a bag – possibly a bondage
game gone wrong, it confirms he hit the button; MI6 aren't famous for
their successes.
The
problem MI6 (Actually the Secret Intelligence Service) will have is
obvious; they win quite a few, but they'd have to kill you (They
don't. Apparently.). Shouting 'We got your top Nuclear scientist
working for us' to the Iranians would simply have them top him before changing the
locks and hiring another one; it wouldn't work. So, we get to hear
about the failures; much like the SAS (whose famous mission Bravo-Two-Zero went awry in lots of ways; you simply never hear about the secret stuff that goes well ). Also, in the films the image is of guns and
glamour, the suave spy in the casino playing Mr.Funnyname for
millions and a night with his missus; unlike the civil-service
reality so carefully hidden behind all that green glass by the
Thames. Stella Rimington (ex-Chief of MI5*) nails the lid on the lie
with her fantastically revealing quote on the back cover; 'Poor Bond
is little more than a prop to Winder's obsession with the evils of
Empire... and his desire to denigrate Britain's intelligence
services'. The real 'M' is an office manager.
Mind
you, she has a point; Winder doesn't exactly hide his lefty-liberal
leanings, he clearly despises the Britain of Empire – yes, it
doesn't stand up to any amount of scrutiny, yes, it was a racist
resources grab by a rapacious nation that caused plenty of bloodshed
(even when we pulled out, leaving rival factions to slash it out for
the top seats), but he overdoes it for me – it will seem like
sneering to many readers.
To
sum it up, its an odd one; I'm the biggest James Bond fan around,
here's a man who hates everything post-Goldfinger rubbishing a lot of
my favourite films... and I enjoyed reading his book. Witty,
entertainment that requires a fair bit of intelligence to absorb and
understand, plus it might be hard to get the feel of it if you
weren't born here. Winder is just young enough to be from my
generation (Me 1967, He 1963) so a lot of the references circa-1970's
are memory-lane gold for me. I'd recommend this to anyone that wants
a wider take on the whole British thing...
(www.picador.com
ISBN 978-0-330-44246-6)
*MI5
– The Security Service; responsible for Internal security issues,
largely anti-terror work and protecting national interests and
industrial secrets; if a terrorist wants to play the fizzy-rucksack
game abroad, it's the Secret Intelligence Service (Bond's employers
if he were real), but in the UK it's the Security Service. The 'MI'
refers to the time when both were nominally under the umbrella of
Military Intelligence – it changed years ago, but MI5/6 sounds
sexier to the media.
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