...said Ian Fleming, the man behind James Bond and the subject of the Imperial War Museum's latest exhibition.

The character of James Bond is familiar to everyone, but how much is known about his creator that died over forty years ago? 

If you have ever wondered what type of person was behind the spy with a licence to kill – and how far Fleming resembled his timeless character – then take a few hours to visit this exhibition that offers a rare chance to get to know one of the world’s most successful authors.

The early exhibits concentrate on Bond’s progression through global popular culture. Fans of the big screen will not be disappointed when they see the larger than life posters and carefully preserved gadgets used in the films.  The inclusion of all of the hardback books with their distinctive covers - alongside Fleming’s own thoughts on how his novels should be packaged - is a reminder of Bond’s often overlooked literary heritage. 

The problem of 007’s lack of identity is highlighted well.  He is there for each successive generation but he never ages.  Beyond the immaculate tailoring, sexual prowess and enjoyment of fine food and drink, Bond’s characteristics have to be conjured by the audience. 

The curators have amassed a wealth of documents, many of them personal, so there is much fun to be had in playing detective.  Close scrutiny suggests Fleming never allowed himself to step much beyond Bond’s physical characteristics, and even these were often vague.  (When pushed, he said that Bond resembled in looks the American Jazz musician Hoagy Carmichael). 

Contemporary literary critiques of Bond’s sadism and misogyny are nowhere to be seen - they would be out of place in an exhibition that obviously could not have been put together without the assistance of the Fleming family.

The later parts of the exhibition concentrate on Fleming himself, who had a vulnerability that his alter-ego was never allowed.  Coming from an affluent, well-connected family, it is tempting to think that Fleming should easily have enjoyed the natural, effortless success so common to the class he was born into. 

However, the original handwritten letters detailing Fleming’s first attempts to secure a job at Reuters, and the references provided by his superiors in the wartime Naval Intelligence department, suggest a man who took little for granted and was almost desperately eager to please. 

Glancing at Fleming’s thoughtful replies to fan mail, it is striking how this trait lived on after his transformation to best selling novelist at the relatively late age of 44.

However, it is the inclusion of material from Goldeneye, Fleming’s Jamaican holiday home, which allows the most intimate look.  It was here that each 007 book was hammered out to a rigorous schedule. 

 With the immediate success of the first novel, Casino Royale, the publishers were delighted that the author could escape the British winter to produce a new Bond adventure every year.  It is often said that writers are rather solitary and desperate souls, and it is not difficult to make the evidence on display point towards this. 

The heavy drinking and smoking (Fleming smoked cigarettes handmade by Morlands, stored in a special box that took 100 at a time); the long affair with Ann Rothermere that petered out into a short marriage; the scrawled love letter, complete with youthful drawings, that Fleming sent to Ann shortly after the birth of their child; the author’s apparent delight in straightforward pleasures, particularly food (he said of his daily breakfast at Goldeneye: ‘Scrambled eggs never let you down.’) – the visitor is tempted to think that Bond provided Fleming with an outlet that ordinary life failed to match.