John Brock

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John Brock is a fictional British undercover agent created by Desmond Skirrow. He appeared in three fast-paced, witty, and irreverent spy novels written in the late 1960s. Like his creator, he is an advertising executive in London but also a part-time agent coerced by intimidating photographs to work from time to time for an secret department on the Addison Road run by The Fat Man. Brock is tough, witty, extremely competent, and supremely resilient. Even by fictional standards, he absorbs incredible amounts of physical damage at the hands of his adversaries before, after a few whiskeys and a few hours sleep, he is ready for his next fight against overwhelming odds and, quite likely, yet another beating.

At the time of his first appearance in It Won't Get You Anywhere, published in 1966, Brock is mostly likely in his early 40s, a large (at least 6'1"), tough, extremely fit man who had apparently served with British special forces in small boats during World War II, probably with SIS (Secret Intelligence Service} or SOE (Special Operations Executive). An elliptical reference to climbing Gothic church spires, a traditional activity of students at Oxford, indicates that he may have attended that university before his military service. He smokes cigarettes, drinks large whiskeys, prefers sweet white wine and Champagne to dry, and has an eye for the ladies, with whom, as is usual with fictional agents, he is frequently, though not always, successful.

My father taught me at his knee never to say no, for a refusal may offend. Whatever it is, he used to say, accept it at once and then, if necessary, reject it at leisure. I have always tried to follow this ridiculous advice and to teach it to the wives of all my friends. It never got me anywhere, of course, but I have always enjoyed the effort.[1]

In spite of the detached and witty restraint of most of his first-person narration, Brock can be both surly and truculent, especially when dealing with those he considers his adversaries. His usual response, although not always a wise one, to those attempting to coerce him is an inelegant, "Get stuffed!" Aside from that, however, he eschews profanity and vulgar language, letting his actions express his emotions. Upon being ordered to visit The Fat Man at the beginning of It Won't Get You Anywhere,

I pushed open the front door in Addison Road and walked past Det.-Sgt. Pratt. But Pratt had been replaced, and a newer, bigger, keener copper shoved the thick arm of the law across my throat.... He was confident as well as keen, and he flipped as though he was greased. I grabbed his throat and dangled him against the panelling.... So I punched him low and let him slide.... "I'm Brock," I said. "I didn't want to come here, and I won't want to come the next time either." [2]


References

  1. It Won't Get You Anywhere, Corgi Books paperback edition, London, 1968, page 123
  2. Ibid., page 11