Ordinary inscriptions that tell you more

Not every Ian Fleming book can have an inscription written by the author himself. Most have far more mundane messages written inside them. But that's what makes them interesting..!

Ian Fleming's famous inscription to real-life 007 fan, 'James Bond', to whom Fleming signed several books

It’s a well known fact that James Bond author, Ian Fleming, was a sparse signer and inscriber of his books and – generally speaking – he only signed them to people he actually knew.

The result of these two factors, however, means that when he did put ink pen to end paper, boy did he treat us with some great inscriptions.

There’s his well-known phrase ‘Read & burn’ – an in-joke he used multiple times (see three different examples above) - and is normally in presentation copies, in various different novels. Then there's the several he inscribed to a man whose real name was James Bond, where you can tell Fleming thoroughly enjoyed writing: ‘To James Bond, from Ian Fleming'.

But mixed in with these frivolous examples are other, far more cerebral notes – inscriptions which genuinely appear to show his appreciation to those involved with his books.

For instance, here's a note he penned to Eric Partridge – a well-known lexicographer at the time [and who helped Fleming with how best to use slang and criminal dialects), he wrote: “To Eric, Who kills me with his kindness.” (Above, left).

In return for technical advice in the plot for Diamonds Are Forever, Fleming wrote in the book he sent Commander Wilfred (Bill) Dunderdale MBE: “To Bill, who helped me with the next one, with affection from Ian.”  (Above, middle). To his friend Philip Brownrigg, who worked at De Beers, and lent much of his knowledge to Fleming while he was researching Diamonds Are Forever and The Diamond Smugglers, a note in Dr No from Fleming reads: “To Phillip, In exchange for many favours, affectionately, Ian.” (Above, right).

Often in Fleming's inscriptions are signs of his very dry sense of humour – such as this (left), personal inscription he wrote to Sir Winston Churchill no less in Live and Let Die (“From whom I stole some words!”).

In another book (Moonraker) – that he sent to his literary hero, Raymond Chandler (creator of the Philip Marlow character), rather than address him as Raymond, Fleming wrote: “To Field Marshall Chandler, from Private Ian Fleming, 1955.”

In another signed book – this time in a copy of Live and Let Die, Fleming writes: “To/ MW/ The faithful &/ true!/ from/ The Author.” ‘MW’ was Muriel Williams, Fleming’s assistant at Kemsley Newspapers when he was the foreign manager. She was responsible for the day-to-day running of the department.

Some of Fleming’s inscriptions are deeply personal, and mysterious – such as a famous message to ‘Lisl’ - Lisl Popper (then Lisa Jokl) – who Fleming first met when she was aged just 19 years, working in Kitzbuhel in Austria in 1926.

At the time she was eight years older than Fleming, and later they become lovers and life-long friends. In this copy of Casino Royale that he sent her, he wrote: "To Lisl/Despite whose loving/care this book was/written/X/Ian.” Later, in “For Your Eyes Only” – he to her again, saying: “noch ein paar Eier fr Ostern!” [“yet another pair of eggs for Easter”]

Then there’s the far less obvious ones – such as the note: "For John, & his blue pencil" in an edition of Diamonds Are Forever – which unless you know, refers to his close friend, John Haywood, who is thought to have edited or reviewed Fleming’s early manuscripts for that novel.

Joyce, Ian Fleming's 'Happy Ghost'!

In a copy of Moonraker, Fleming’s inscription reads - "TO JOYCE / THE HAPPY GHOST / FROM / IAN FLEMING / 1955."

Strange? Perhaps.

Until we find out that the Joyce in question was Joyce Emerson (1921-1979), a journalist by trade, who worked at The Sunday Times during the 1950's and 60's.

She befriended Fleming whilst working on the 'Atticus' team alongside Ian Fleming. Atticus was a weekly society gossip column, which Fleming joined in the autumn of 1953 (during the release time of his first novel 'Casino Royale'). As the inscription suggests, Emerson would (almost certainly) have ghost-written many of the pieces carrying his name.

Inscriptions that are amazing…

All of the above examples are all instances of inscriptions that are very much ‘wanted’ by collectors.

These are the best of the best; the desired, the wanted.

Most Fleming collectors worth their salt would pay good money for practically any Fleming inscribed book – and even more for one with a typically cryptic message or phrase.

…but then there’s the inscriptions that are totally ordinary

But for the rest of us mere mortals, these are most definitely ‘not’ the sorts of inscriptions we ever get to find in our Bond books.

The sorts we’re left with are typically inscriptions ‘not’ by Fleming at all – you know, those that typically feature some unknown owner’s name, or a message to the eventual owner, from someone that’s gifted the book to them (usually a family member, for Christmas, or birthday).

Sadly, I feel, whenever these inscriptions appear, they are always talked about in the same sentence as wanting to ‘talk-down’ the value of a book.

These rather run-of-the-mill inscriptions are nearly always deemed to be marks that tarnish the book, de-value the book, and basically turn something that used to be pristine into something rather less-so. I’m guilty of doing this myself – any book I sell that have an owner’s name will be why this book is less expensive than another identical copy without one.

But I say ‘sadly’ – because as a collector myself, and as someone who likes to know about the former history of a book (see my blog on seller stickers/stamps) and who might have owned it, I’m a bit embarrassed to be part of this ‘inscribed is ruined’ club.

Privately, I think a sweet message, conveying the reason the book may have been given to someone offers a unique insight into that time period, and why it was that people thought these books were so special.

Through the inscriptions we see in books, we’re able to glean a privileged insight; we’re able to glimpse private messages between lovers, or funny little family anecdotes long-since lost to the midst of time. And this, I think, it what gives a book their ‘life’ – their story, their place in time. I think that if we ignore these totemic witticisms, we actually lose our connection with the past, and the reason why we also love books today.

So, in celebration of this, and while showing off some of Fleming's own inscriptions might have been fun, I want to shine a spotlight on some of the words I’ve seen written in Ian Fleming books that come from the ordinary folk. Yes, these previous, less illustrious, owners of the wonderful Bond books - people who have all, nevertheless, left little pieces of indelible evidence about when they owned these treasures.

Here’s a small selection of the various different types I’ve seen…

1) The celebratory message (with a twist)

This first edition, 7th printing of Casino Royale contains this bold, rather unusual message.

Yes, it’s a gifted-book message, with a sweet ‘my darling,’ and a nice piece of follow-up information which beautifully dates this: ‘for Christmas 1962’.

But take a look at what follows: “The fast was first and the first is second.”

I wish I knew exactly what this quote means (I can’t seem to find any contemporary reference for it). Was it a family-in-joke?

Whatever it is, it’s rather mysterious and – to me – gives this book an even more intriguing aura about it. Answers on a postcard please if you have any ideas what it means…

2) The name and address supplied example:

I’m often surprised when Fleming books don’t just have the owner’s name, but have their full address (with one I recall seeing, even having their phone number on it too).

Was it because these books were so beloved, that if they got lost, and if anyone found it, they would know who (and where) to return it?

In this example, from a first edition of Dr No, there is the owner’s name (Hilda Baker), and her address.

I must admit, that whenever I see names and addresses, the inner detective in me comes out, and I start to wonder about the life of the previous owner(s). Unless they are significant association copies, most of the time these answers are hard to come by.

This example is not the easiest to read, but thanks to the SW6 postcode, I’ve deduced that the address reads 48 Pearscroft Road.

You can type this into Google and see exactly where this person used to live. I would love to know more about who Hilda Baker was. I thought for a moment it was Hylda Baker (a well-known, former British comedian, actress and music hall performer), but the ‘Hilda’ is spelt with a ‘i’ in the book, a clearly not a ‘y’. Such a shame – as I would have loved to have been able to find out more about this former owner – especially being a woman – not your typical owner/buyer of a Fleming title at the time.

3) The ‘to-from’ inscription

In this first edition of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, we have this very formal, rather military-looking ‘to- from’ affair.

It’s so straight down the line, it’s borderline standoffish, but again, has a shroud of mystery about it. Sylena Molison? Sylena is an unusual name, and she’s been given it by an equally unusual ‘A.G.M’ – sound very spy-like to me! (Is the M of AGM another of the Molison’s? Who knows…)

4) The endearing inscription

What a sweet message this is – from a 6th print The Spy Who Loved Me.

I can’t quite make it all out (maybe someone else can), but to me, Wallace - who I assume has sent this book as a gift - addresses a husband and wife with the note: “Thanks for a wonderful [illegible word] in your lovely home. I’m the Scotsman who first introduced you to 007, Wallace, 25th April 1965.”

It reads like this book was gifted as a thank you for a previous happy time, during which the sender – Wallace – appears to have got them into the world of 007 for the first time. I think this is a rather lovely, sentimental note.

5) The far off place inscription?

This inscription in a first edition of Thunderball is a great example of when a book can be dated an exact (or near exact) date corresponding to when it was bought/gifted. In some books I’ve seen, the date written inside is literally a day or two after the book's official publication date, and that’s often the only way a collector will know that they’ve got one of the very first books in the shops.

To me, a definite date lends a book a real ‘something’ about it. This example above is dated 25th July – so a good four months after Thunderball first came out. But has this book been bought in Germany? Or given by someone who is German. ‘Juli’ is German for July. Yet, intriguingly, the ‘for’ and ‘from’ are in English. Can you read the two names? I can’t seem to make them out.

6) The birthday/Christmas inscriptions

Above: Christmas 1985 inscriptions from 'Clinton & Nora' in Thunderball, For Your Eyes Only, You Only Live Twice and On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Below: Clinton & Nora keep the tradition going in 1986 - this time it's Bond at birthday time: (The Man With The Golden Gun and Moonraker):

I suspect we’ve all seen examples in books where someone has wished a partner or another family member a happy birthday, or happy Christmas. Some think these sorts of notes spoil books, and if you’re after really flawless copies, then possibly they do.

But one thing they definitely demonstrate is how Ian Fleming books have long been staples as gifts. Above are what appears like ordinary examples of birthday/Christmas inscriptions from my own personal ‘last impressions’ set of Ian Fleming books.

But you'll note that there's something rather special about these - all six from the same couple, to the same person. For were given as Christmas presents in 1985, while a further two were given the following year, from the same (I presume) grandparents in 1986.

To still have this group – still together, from the same people – is quite unusual these days, not least because books are often broken up and quite quickly can be flung all across the globe. This is a great example of a set that have defied the odds, and stayed together - some 40 years on. it's why (to me), it's so important to keep some collections together. I certainly won't be breaking these books up any time soon. I love their stories.

7) A life in books

Could what’s written inside this book – a 6th print On Her Majesty’s Secret Service be one of the saddest entries ever?

KP Nuttall – the apparent original owner of this book - appears to named and dated his book February 1964 – the likely date he either bought or received it.

But look below – where someone else (one of his children perhaps?), has seemingly filled out his birth and death date.

KP Nuttall (or ‘KPN’) appears to have been born on 23rd August 1917, and died on 25th Sep 1974. A slightly macabre detail about this former owner’s life.

8) Interesting dates!

Above is a great example of why a specific date can be important.

As most of us will know, the first impression of You Only Live Twice came in two ‘states’ – one that just says ‘First Published 1964’ on the colophon, while the other that says ‘First Published March 1964’. This is because the second state run of books were originally intended to be the official second impression. But, it was decided that these ‘March 1964’ dates books would be rolled together with the first state print run, for a combined first impression of 80,540 books (25,522 of which were the second state). The official second impression came later, and is dated ‘April 1964.’

These two books (one book above left and middle; the other above right), mess with our heads a bit, because despite the second book (above right), having a written-in date of ‘March 1964’, it is actually from a first state (ie no month mentioned) book.

Meanwhile, the first book (above left), with the written-in date/inscription of ‘April 1964’ is not a second impression book as could be suggested, but actually a ‘first state book’ – (also no month mentioned on the colophon). It’s just that this first edition book was clearly bought, and dated by the owner some months later – by which time the second impression was already out.

If you've got books with interesting inscriptions or notes inside, give them a second look, do a bit of digging. You might find out some new, interesting information about that book's former past...