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quote:No one who has not stood on the block can truly understand the horror of slavery. To be thrust up in public, before a crowd of leering n******, waiting your turn while your fellow-unfortunates are knocked down, one by one to the highest bidder, and you stand like a beast in a pen, all dignity, manhood, even humanity gone. Aye, it’s hell. It’s even worse when nobody buys you. Only Fraser could get a laugh from the block. quote:“It is simple,” says he, when he had slipped a coin to the sentry and we were locked in alone. He spoke French now, which he’d been afraid to do in public for fear of eavesdroppers. “I had no time to tell you. The other slaves were being sold for debt, or crime. You, as a castaway, are in effect crown property; your display on the block was a mere formality, for no one would dare to bid. You belong to the Queen—as I did, when I was shipwrecked years ago.” Oh ho, where could he be going with this? quote:He was looking thoroughly scared, although I felt instinctively he wasn’t a man who scared easy. “If you displease her—then it will be the perpetual corvée—the forced labour. Perhaps even the pits, which you saw yesterday.” He shook his head. “Oh, my friend, you do not even begin to understand. That happens daily here. Rome under Nero—it was nothing!” An incredibly succinct and vivid picture of life in the city, Fraser's done it again. quote:If I had my head in my hands, do you wonder? It couldn’t be true—where I was, what I’d heard, what lay ahead. But it was, and I knew it, which was why I plumped down on my knees, blubbering, and prayed like a drunk Methodist, just on the offchance that there is a God after all, for if He couldn’t help me, no one else could. I felt much worse for it; probably Arnold was right, and insincere prayers are just so much blasphemy. So I had a good curse instead, but that didn’t serve, either. Whichever way I tried to ease my mind, I still wasn’t looking forward to meeting royalty. And now the bad inevitably goes to worse. As for the Frenchman, Jean Laborde, Fraser says: quote:Flashman’s estimate of Laborde was sound; the Frenchman was a tough and resourceful soldier of fortune who in his time had been a cavalry trooper, steam engineer in Bombay, and (according to some sources) a slave-trader. He was shipwrecked in Madagascar in 1831, enslaved, bought by the Queen and became a favourite. Subsequently he was liberated and married a Malagassy girl, but he was still kept in Madagascar where he served the Queen as engineer and cannon-maker. He became an influential figure at court, and was active in promoting French interest. Rather interesting fellow. Let's see what we can see next time!
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Oct 15, 2021 11:22
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Arbite posted:Only Fraser could get a laugh from the block. Reminds me of that one Key and Peele sketch. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zB7MichlL1k
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Oct 15, 2021 13:47
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quote:Steady, Flash, thinks I, what’s this? It looked an innocent room enough, overcrowded with artistically-carved native furniture, large pots containing reeds, some fine ornaments in ivory and ebony, and on the walls several prints depicting n****** in uniform which I wouldn’t have given house-room to, myself. I stood listening, and through a large muslin-screened inner window heard the murmur and music of the great hall; by standing on a table I could just peep over the sill and through the muslin observe the assembly below. My window was in a corner, and from beneath it a broad gallery ran clean across the top end of the hall, high above the crowd. There were a dozen Hova guardsmen in sarongs and helmets ranged along the balcony rail. An interesting in the flesh introduction to the queen. quote:Well, even from above and through a muslin screen there was no doubt that she was female, and no need for stays to make the best of it, either; she stood like an ebony statue as the two wenches began to bathe her from bowls of water. Some vulgar lout grunted lasciviously, and realising who it was I shrank back a trifle in sudden anxiety that I’d been overheard. They splashed her thoroughly, while I watched enviously, and then clapped the robe round her shoulders again. The screen was removed, and she took what looked like an inlaid ebony horn from one of her attendants and stepped forward to sprinkle the crowd. They fairly crowed with delight, and then she withdrew to a great shout of applause, and I scrambled down from my window thinking, by George, we’ve never seen little Vicky doing that from the balcony at Buck House—but then, she ain’t quite equipped the way this one is. Something at first sight. Author's Note posted:The few Europeans who met Queen Ranavalona face to face and lived to write impressions of her, confirm what Flashman says of her appearance, although most of them saw her much later in her reign than he did. Ellis, giving a description which is very close to Flashman’s, adds that “the whole head and face is small, compact and well proportioned; her expression…agreeable, although at times indicating great firmness.” Ida Pfeiffer, who apparently did not see her close to, noted that she was “of strong and sturdy build, rather dark”. Both she and Mr Ellis seem to have thought the Queen rather older than she probably was; there is no reliable evidence of her birth-date, and although the Nouvelle Biographie Générale says “about 1800”, which would make her 44 when Flashman met her, it seems more likely that she was in her early fifties. quote:She didn’t even glance at them, and after a moment one of her girls scuttled forward and took them. I stepped back, right foot first, and waited. The eyes never wavered in their repellent stare, and so help me, I couldn’t meet them any longer. I dropped my gaze, trying feverishly to remember what Laborde had told me—oh, hell, was she waiting for me to lick her infernal feet? I glanced down; they were hidden under her scarlet cloak; no use grubbing for ’em there. I stood, my heart thumping in the silence, noticing that the silk of her cloak was wet—of course, they hadn’t dried her, and she hadn’t a stitch on underneath—my stars, but it clung to her limbs in a most fetching way. My view from on high had been obscured, of course, and I hadn’t realised how strikingly endowed was the royal personage. I followed the sleek scarlet line of her leg and rounded hip, noted the gentle curve of waist and stomach, the full-blown poonts outlined in silk—my goodness, though, she was wet—catch her death… Not his instincts back in Strackense, but we'll see the results here. quote:So I stood-stock still for a full minute, while those wicked, clammy eyes surveyed me; then she came forward and brought her face close to mine, sniffing warily like an animal and gently rubbing her nose to and fro across my cheeks and lips. Starter’s gun, thinks I; one wrench and my breeches were a rag on the floor. I hooked into her buttocks and kissed her full on the mouth—and she jerked away, spitting and pawing at her tongue, her eyes blazing, and swung a hand at my face. I was too startled to avoid the blow; it cracked on my ear—I had a vision of those boiling pits—and then the fury was dying from her eyes, to be replaced by a puzzled look. (I had no notion, you see, that kissing was unknown on Madagascar; they rub noses, like the South Sea folk). She put her face to mine again, touching my lips cautiously with her own; her mouth tasted of aniseed. She licked me tentatively, so I nuzzled her a moment, and then kissed her in earnest, and this time she entered into the spirit of the thing like a good ’un. Fairly well, as it turns out. Going by what he was told might happen, at any event. Let's see how the afterglow turns out... next time!
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Oct 18, 2021 12:47
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quote:Yet the most startling event was still to come. When she had got out of the bath and I had followed obediently, she crossed to the bed and disposed herself on it, contemplating me sullenly while I stood hesitant, wondering what to do next. I mean, usually one gives ’em a slap on the rump by way of congratulation, whistles up refreshments, and has a cosy chat, but I could guess this wasn’t her style. She just lay there stark, all black and shiny, staring at me while I tried to shiver nonchalantly, and then she grunted something in Malagassy and pointed to the piano. I explained, humbly, that I didn’t play; she stared some more, and three seconds later I was on the piano stool, my wet posterior clinging uncomfortably to the seat, picking out “Drink, Puppy. Drink”, with one finger. My audience didn’t begin to throw things, so I ventured on the other half of my repertoire. “God Save the Queen”, but a warning growl sent me skittering back to “Drink, Puppy, Drink” once more. I played it for about ten minutes, conscious of that implacable stare on the back of my neck, and then by way of variety began to sing the verse. I heard the bed creak, and desisted; another growl, and I was giving tongue lustily again, and the Silver Palace of Antananarivo re-echoed to: Author's Note posted:Flashman’s virtuosity on the keyboard was either highly eccentric or less memorable than he imagined, for years later when Ida Pfeiffer was invited to play the palace piano, she understood Ranavalona to say that she “had never seen anyone play with their hands”. Mme Pfeiffer found the piano sadly out of tune. Hah! quote:No, pleasuring Queenie wasn’t a trade you could settle to, and to make it worse she was a brutally demanding lover. I don’t mean that she enjoyed inflicting pain on her men, like dear Lola with her hairbrush, or the elfin Mrs Mandeville of Mississippi, who wore spurred riding boots to bed, or Aunt Sara the Mad Bircher of the Steppes—my, I’ve known some little turtle doves in my time, haven’t I just? No, Ranavalona was simply an animal, coarse and insatiable, and you ached for days afterwards, I suffered a cracked rib, a broken finger, and God knows how many strains and dislocations in my six months as stallionen-titre, which gives you some idea. I've previously noted how the funetik accents in the books tend to be of the isles to some extent. Mr. Fankanonikaka doesn't have that but he consistently speaks with the nebbish, nervous, and half-familiar phrasing right out of a comic foreigner in an oppressive land from some old adventure tale. With his own spin, of course. quote:I was learning to accept anything in this extraordinary country—and why not? In my time I’ve seen an Oxford don commanding a slave-ship, a professor of Greek skinning mules on the Sacramento stage run, and a Welshman in a top hat leading a Zulu impi—even a Threadneedle Street n***** acting as secretary to the Queen of Madagascar ain’t too odd alongside that lot. But hearing English—even his amazing brand of the language—took me so aback that I almost committed the indiscretion of asking how the blazes I was to escape from this madhouse—and that could have been fatal in a country where one wrong word usually means death by torture. Fortunately I remembered Laborde’s warning in time, and asked cautiously how he knew my name. We'll find out... next time! Arbite fucked around with this message at 04:57 on Dec 12, 2021 |
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Oct 20, 2021 06:24
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D...e is possibly deuce, a comically inoffensive word
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Oct 20, 2021 06:33
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sebmojo posted:D...e is possibly deuce, a comically inoffensive word I thought it was 'damme', ie 'drat me'. I definitely think there's some uncomfortable racist overtones in the obsequious Fankanonikaka and how much he relishes English language and culture, which are by assumption superior to his own, since his own is portrayed as being utterly illogical, cruel, despotic etc. The less said about Ranavalona being portrayed as animalistic in bed, the better!
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Oct 21, 2021 12:49
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quote:What, for that matter, could I do. in this nest of intrigue and terror, where my life depended on the whim of a diabolical despot who was undoubtedly mad, fickle, dangerous, and fiendishly cruel? (Not unlike my first governess, in a way, except that their notions of bath-time for little Harry were somewhat different.) I could only wait, helpless, for Laborde, and pray that he might have some news of Elspeth, and bring me hope of escape from this appalling pickle—and I was just reconciling myself to this unhappy prospect, when who should walk in but the man himself. I was amazed, overjoyed, and terrified all in the space of two heartbeats; he was smiling, but looking pale and breathing heavy, like a man who has just had a nasty start and survived it—which he had. Speaking of cotton, next book takes us back to the States. But anyway, back to the performance. quote:“But of course!” cries I, ringing tones. “It is my dearest ambition—has been for years. I don’t know how many times the Duke of Wellington’s said to me: ‘Flash, old son, you won’t be a soldier till you’ve done time with the Malagassies. God help us if Boney had had a battalion of them at Waterloo.’ And I’m beside myself with happiness at the thought of serving a monarch of such graciousness, magnanimity, and peerless beauty.” If some eavesdropper was taking notes for the awful black bitch’s benefit, I might as well lay it on with a shovel. “I would gladly lay down my life at her feet.” There was a fair chance of that, too, if we had many gallops like that afternoon’s. Absense makes the heart grow fonder, but frequent absence is making his heart punchy.   Precious as ever. And if you're following along via audiobook then all of G. de R.'s subtractions are still present, leaving only her fun comments at the ends of these notes. I remember this leaving me a very different impression of the character as a result. Let's see what this corner of the crazy world has in store for these two... next time!
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Oct 23, 2021 08:51
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quote:It’s been my experience that however strange or desperate the plight you may find yourself in, if there’s nothing else for it, you just get on with the business in hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. By various quirks of fate I’ve landed up as an Indian butler, a Crown Prince, a cottonfield slave-driver, a gambling-hell proprietor, and God knows what besides—all occupations from which I’d have run a mile if I’d been able. But I couldn’t, so I made the best of ’em, and before I knew it I was fretting about silver polish or court precedent or how we were to get the crop in by November or whether the blackjack dealer was holding out, and almost forgetting that the real world to which I rightly belonged was still out there somewheres. Self-defence, I suppose—but it keeps you sane when by rights you ought to be sinking into madness and despair. In several different forms, Flash enjoys and is skilled at forcing those under him to behave to expectation. quote:Fankanonikaka had told me I had a free hand; he came down with me to that first review, when the five regiments stationed at Antan’, and the palace guard, marched past under my critical eye. Sandhurst being where British army officers are trained. quote:After that it was plain sailing. They realised they were in the grip of a mad martinet, and went crazy perfecting their drill and turn-out, with their officers working ’em till they dropped, while Flashy strolled about glaring, or sat in his office yelling for lists and returns of everything under the sun. With my ready ear for languages, I picked up a little Malagassy, but for the most part transmitted my orders in French, which the better-educated officers understood. I built a fearsome reputation through stickling over trivialities, and set the seal on it by publicly flogging a colonel (because one of his men was late for roll-call) at the first of the great fortnightly reviews which the Queen and court attended. This shocked the officers, entertained the troops, and delighted her majesty, if the glitter in her eye was anything to go by. She sat like a brooding black idol most of the time, in her red sari and ceremonial gold crown under the striped brolly of state, but as soon as the lashing started I noticed her hand clenching at every stroke, and when the poor devil began to squeal, she grunted with satisfaction. It’s a great gift, knowing the way to a woman’s heart. And scarcely a thought to Elspeth. Ah well. Anyway, we'll have another of Flashman's hilarious and insightful looks at a society when he tackles their eleven deep caste system... next time!
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Oct 25, 2021 07:11
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quote:Since most of the leading aristocrats held high military rank, and took their duties seriously in a pathetically incompetent way (just like our own, really). I gradually became acquainted—not to say friendly—with the governing class, and began to see how the land lay in court, camp, city, and countryside. It was simple enough, for society was governed by a rigid caste system even stricter than that of India, although there was no religious element at all. There were eleven castes, starting at the bottom with the black Malagassy slaves; above them, in tenth place, were the while slaves, of whom there weren’t many apart from me, and I was special, as I’ll explain—but ain’t that interesting, that a black society held white superior to black, in the slave line? We were, of course, but it didn’t make much odds, since all of us were far below the ninth caste, which consisted of the general public, who had to work for a living, and included everyone from professional people and merchants right down to the free labourers and peasantry. So in three paragraphs Flashman delivers his grand overgeneralization of the islands populace. Unlike with Lakshmibai he won't be shown to be far off the mark, and I appreciate that he starts with deprication towards his own's nobs in the military before swinging away, the racist rake. Now for some more detail. quote:That much you have probably gathered already, from my description of her and of the horrors I’d seen, but you have to imagine what it was like to be living at the mercy of that creature, day in day out, without hope of release. Fear spread from her like a mist, and if her court was a proper little viper’s nest of intrigue and spying and plotting, it wasn’t because her nobles and advisers were scheming for power, but for sheer survival. They went in terror of those evil snake eyes and that flat grunting voice so rarely heard—and then usually to order arrest, torture, and horrible death. Those are easy words to write, and you probably think they’re an exaggeration; they’re not. That beastly slaughter I’d witnessed under the cliff at Ambohipotsy was just a piece of the regular ritual of purge and persecution and butchery which was everyday at Antan’ in my time; her appetite for blood and suffering was insatiable, and all the worse because it was unpredictable. Lasting memories were not all that would come back from King Gezo, but that's a story for another, distant time. quote:And at the head of the table she would sit, in a fine yellow satin gown from Paris, a feather boa stuck through her crown, pearls on her black bosom and in her long earrings, chewing on a chicken leg, holding up her goblet to be refilled, and getting drunker and drunker—for when it came to lowering the booze she could have seen a sergeants’ mess under the table. It didn’t show in her face; the plump black features never changed expression, only the eyes glittered in their piercing uncanny stare. She wouldn’t smile; her talk would be an occasional growl to the terrified sycophants sitting beside her, and when she rose at last, wiping her sullen mouth, everyone would spring up and bow and scrape while two of her generals, perspiring, would escort her down the room and out on to the great balcony, lending her an arm if she staggered, and over the great crowd waiting in the courtyard below would fall a terrible silence—the silence of death. Always sneaking in the teaspoon of self-deprecation with the bucket of denouncement. quote:So you see what a jolly, carefree life it was for her court, of whom I suppose I was one in my capacity of mount of the moment. It was a privileged position, as I soon realised; you recall I told you how I took pains to curry favour with the top military nobles—well. I soon discovered that the compliment was returned, slave though I was officially. They toadied me something pitiful, those black sweating faces and trembling paws in gaudy uniforms—they assumed, you see, that I only had to whisper the word in her ear and they’d be off to the pits and the cross. They needn’t have fretted; I never knew one of ’em from t’other, hardly, and anyway I was too alarmed for my own safety to do anything with her damned black ear but chew it, loving-like.  What Flashman is describing is Sikidy boards, for Malagasy geomancy. That's about enough background, we'll start moving things forward again... next time! Arbite fucked around with this message at 07:10 on Oct 29, 2021 |
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Oct 28, 2021 14:51
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This is the place that flash feels destined for. Positioned high in a hosed up empire where he can feel superior to everyone and never have to remember anyone’s name—except he’s actually one wrong move from dying terribly and stuck in a monogamous relationship with a practiced killer. It’s like a slow burning hell designed just for him.
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Oct 28, 2021 18:16
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quote:If there was any other influence in her life, apart from the mumbo-jumbo men and her own mad passions, it was her only son. Prince Rakota—the chap to whom Laborde had managed to steer Elspeth. He was the heir to the throne, although he wasn’t the old king’s son, but the offspring of one of her lovers—whom she’d later had pulled apart, naturally. However, under Malagassy law, any children a widow may have, legitimate or not, are considered sons of her dead husband, so Rakota was next in line, and my impression was that Madagascar couldn’t wait to cry “Long live the King!” You see, despite my misgivings when I’d first heard about him, he was the complete opposite of his atrocious mother—a kindly, cheerful, good-natured youth who did what he could to restrain his bloodthirsty parent. It was common knowledge that if he happened along as they were about to butcher someone on her instructions, and he told them to let the chap go, they would—and mama never said a word about it. He’d have had to spend all his time sprinting round the country shouting “Lay off!” to make much impression on the slaughter rate, but he did what he could, and the populace blessed and loved him, as you’d expect. Why Ranavalona didn’t do away with him, I couldn’t fathom; some fatal weakness in her character, I suppose. A beautiful bit of hilarity at the end, but I'm sure he'd say he wasn't quite joking. Anyway, let's get moving! quote:However, mention of Rakota advances my tale, for about three weeks after I’d taken up my duties. I met him, and was reunited, if only briefly, with the wife of my bosom. I’d seen Laborde once or twice beforehand, when he’d figured it was safe to approach me, and pestered him to take me to Elspeth, but he’d impressed on me that it was highly dangerous, and would have to wait on a favourable opportunity. It was like this, you see: Laborde had told Rakota that Elspeth was my wife, and pleaded with him to look after her, and keep her tucked away out of sight, for if the Queen ever discovered that her new buck and favoured slave had a wife within reach—well, it would have been good-night, Mrs Flashman, and probably young Harry as well. Jealous old bitch. Rakota, being a kindly lad, had agreed, so there was Elspeth snug and well cared for, not treated as a slave at all, but rather as a guest. While I, mark you, was having to pleasure that insatiable female baboon for my very life’s sake. They hadn’t told Elspeth that, thank God, but jollied her along with the tale that I had taken up an important military post, which was true enough. Even in the house of his prospective savior Flashman can barely keep his disparaging thoughts to himself. quote:It seemed to me the Prince and Princess were slightly nervous; he kept darting glances at Rakohaja and Fankanonikaka, and his little chubby consort, whenever she caught my eye, smiled timidly and bobbed like a charwoman seeking employment. The Prince asked me a few more questions, in an offhand way—about the quality of the lower-rank commanders, the equipment of palace pickets, the standard of marksmanship, and so on, which I answered satisfactorily, noting that he seemed specially interested in the household troops. Then he took one last gulp and belch at his chocolate, wiped his moustache on his sleeve, and says to me, with a little smile and wave: Aww, he still remembers her approval. quote:“But I have so much to tell you, for the Prince and Princess have been so good, and I have the prettiest rooms, and the garden is so beautiful, and there is some very select company in the evenings—all black, of course, and a leetle outré—but most agreeable and considerate. I am most happy and interested—but when shall we go home to England, Harry? I hope it is not too long—for I sometimes feel anxiety for dear Papa, and while it is very pleasant here, it is not quite the same. But I know you will not detain us here longer than must be, for you are the kindest of husbands—but I am sure your work here will be of the greatest service to you, for it is sure to be a valuable experience. I only wish”—her lip suddenly trembled, despite her efforts to smile—“that we could be together again…in the same house…oh, Harry, darling, I miss you so!” And with that sweet reunion we'll call it for now.
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Nov 3, 2021 13:49
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quote:I remarked to Laborde as we returned to the palace that my wife seemed happily ignorant of my predicament, and he turned his steady eyes on me. And that's that chapter. Hmm, no diary again. quote:It didn’t stir for long, of course; it never does. You hear news, or a rumour, or an enigmatic remark like Laborde’s, and your imagination takes wing with wild optimism—and then nothing happens, and your spirits plunge, only to revive for a spell, and then down again, and up and down, while time slips away almost unnoticed. I’m glad I ain’t one of these cool hands who can take a balanced view, for any logical appraisal of my situation in Madagascar would have driven me to suicide. As it was, my alternate hopes and glooms were probably my salvation, as the months went by. When the twists of fortune are as dramatic as they tend to be in his case his vast swings in mood seem more like a fair assessment than anything else. quote:So I kept my eye skinned and learned…that Tamitave, while it had taken days to cover on the slave-march, was a bare hundred and forty miles away; that foreign ships put in about twice a month—for Fankanonikaka, whose office I visited a good deal, used to receive notice of them…the Samson of Toulon, the Culebra of Havana, the Alexander Hamilton of New York, the Mary Peters of Madras—I saw the names, and my heart would stop. They might only anchor in the roads, to exchange cargo—but if I could time my bolt from Antan’ precisely, and reach Tamitave when a foreign vessel was in…I’d swum ashore, I could swim aboard—then let ’em try to get me on their cursed land again! How to reach Tamitave, though, ahead of pursuit? The army had some horses, poor screws, but they’d do—one to ride, three to lead for changes…oh, God, Elspeth! I must get her away, too—mustn’t I?…unless I escaped and came back for her in force—by Jove. Brooke would jump at the chance of crusading against Ranavalona—if Brooke was still alive—no, I couldn’t face another of his campaigns…drat Elspeth! And so my thoughts raced, only to return to the dusty heat and grind of Antan’, and the misery of existence. Somehow growing more sour as his situation improves. quote:Not that it was elevating chat—how were the troops? was the ration of jaka sufficient? why did I never wear a hat? were my quarters comfortable? why did I never kill soldiers by way of punishment? had I ever seen the English queen? You must imagine her, either sitting on her throne in a European gown, with one of her girls fanning her, or reclining on her bed in her sari, propped up on one elbow, slowly grunting out her questions, fingering her long earring and never taking those black unblinking eyes from mine. Unnerving work it was, for I was in constant dread that I’d say something to offend; it didn’t help that I never discovered how informed or educated she was, for she volunteered no information or opinions, only questions, and no answers seemed either to please or displease her. She would just brood silently, and then ask something else, in the same flat, muttered French. I suppose you can't argue with results. Or at least staying in the game. Also Jaka is Malagasy pemmican. quote:Another anxiety, of course, during those long weeks, was that she would get word of Elspeth, or that my dear little wife herself would get restive and commit some folly which would attract attention. She didn’t, though, and on the occasional visits I was allowed to make to the Prince’s palace, she seemed as cheerful as ever—I still don’t understand this, although I’ll admit that Elspeth has an unusually serene and stupid disposition which can make the best of anything. She bemoaned the fact that we were kept apart, of course, and never ceased to ask me when we would be going home, but since we were never left alone together there was no opportunity to tell her the fearful truth, and it would have served no good purpose anyway. So I jollied her along, and she seemed content enough. Neither will we, we'll read all about it... next time!
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Nov 6, 2021 08:26
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quote:The Queen’s galas were famous affairs. They took place every two or three months, on the anniversaries of her birth, accession, marriage—or the jubilee of her first massacre, I shouldn’t wonder—and were attended by the flower of Malagassy society, all in their fanciest costumes, crowding into the great courtyard before the palace, where they danced, ate, drank, and revelled all through the night. Proper orgies, from all I’d heard, so I was ready prompt enough, in full fig. when Rakohaja came for me early in the evening.  quote:Among the trees and arbours which lined the square long tables were set, piled with delicacies, especially the local beef rice which is consumed in honour of the Queen—don’t ask me why, because it’s mere coarse belly fodder. The military band were on hand, pounding away at “Auprès de ma blonde”, and getting most of the notes wrong; I noticed they were all half-tipsy, their black faces grinning sweatily and their uniform collars undone, while their bandmaster, resplendent in tartan dressing-gown and bowler hat, was weaving about cackling and losing his silver-rimmed spectacles. He grovelled on the ground hunting for them and waving his baton crazily, but the band played on undaunted, falling off their seats, and the row was deafening. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XayklR3kmpg Two rather different Assasin's Creed videos I've been able to use in one book. This one has breadth, no mistake. quote:This consisted of a hundred dancing girls, in white saris, with green fire-flies bound in their hair, undulating in perfect time across the courtyard to weird n***** music; ugly little squirts for the most part, but drilled like guardsmen, and I’ve never seen a pantomime chorus to equal them. They swayed and weaved among each other like clockwork in the most complex patterns, and the mob, in the intervals of stuffing and swilling, rose to them in drunken appreciation. Flowers and ribbons and even plates of food were thrown, fellows clambered on the tables to applaud and yell, the ladies scattered change from their purses, and in the middle of it the military band regained consciousness as one man and began to play “Auprès de ma blonde” again. The bandmaster fell into the fountain to prolonged cheering, one of the aides at our table subsided face down in a dish of curry, General Rakohaja lit a cheroot, about twenty chaps ran in among the dancing-girls and began an impromptu waltz, the Prince and Princess made their entrance in sedans draped with cloth-of-gold and borne shoulder-high by Hova guardsmen, the whole assembly raved and staggered in loyal greeting, and at the next table a slant-eyed yellow gal with slim bare shoulders glanced lingeringly in my direction, lowered her eyelids demurely, and stuck out her tongue at me behind her fan. Surprisingly not a reference to King David during his early years but rather a reference to David Lloyd's wife who was so drunk she feel asleep where the six legged cow was usually penned in. quote:She swayed dangerously as she stood looking down, a couple of guardsmen lending a discreet elbow on either side, and then the band, in a triumph of instinct over intoxication, burst into the national anthem, “May the Queen Live a Thousand Years”, rendered with heroic enthusiasm by the diners, most of whom seemed to be accompanying themselves by beating spoons on plates. Ahh, you young dumb bastard. I'd like to see see ol' Harry Flash get out of this one!
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Nov 8, 2021 07:27
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quote:I was about to drat his eyes heartily, but he just jerked his head and moved behind a tree, and since my yellow gal chose that moment to be sick. I lost no time in joining him, cursing my luck just the same. I was pretty unsteady on my feet, but I realised that he was cold sober; the lean black face was grim and steady, and there was something about the way he glanced either side, at the hullabaloo of the dance and the dim forms grunting and gasping in the shadows about us, that made me check my angry protest. He drew on his cheroot a moment, then, pitching it away, he took my arm and ushered me under the trees, along a narrow path, and so by a dimly-lighted passage into a little open garden space, which I guessed must be to the side of the palace proper. Ah. Well, nevertheless. quote:It was moonlight, and the little space was full of shadows; I was about to demand to know what the dooce this was all about when I realised that there were at least two men half-hidden in the gloom, but Rakohaja paid them no attention. He crossed to a little summer-house, with a chink of light showing beneath its door, and tapped. I stood trying to get my head clear, suddenly scared: faintly in the distance I could hear the sounds of music and drunken revelry, and then the door was opened, and I was being ushered inside, blinking in the lantern-light as I stared round, panic mounting in my throat. Hoo boy. quote:So many thoughts and terrors were jumbling in my mind by now that I couldn’t give them coherent utterance for a moment. The prospect of freedom—of escape from that monstrous Poppaea and her ghastly country—I shivered with excitement at the thought…but Laborde must be crazy, for what could I do about her infernal soldiers?—I might be God Almighty on the drill-ground, telling them where to put their clodhopping feet, but I’d no authority beyond that. Their plot might be Al, and I was all for it, provided I was safe out of harm’s way—but the thought of doing anything! One hint of suspicion in those terrible eyes— Amazing what can be a pleasant fantasy. quote:“She will destroy us!” Rakota cries again. “She will bring us to war—and in her madness there is no horror she will not—” Sounds like it'll all go swimmingly. Let's find out... next time!
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Nov 10, 2021 15:34
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quote:If I’m still alive, thinks I, I knew I was red in the face, which is a sure sign that I’m paralysed with fear—but what could I do but accept? Hadn’t they cut it fine, though? Not giving old Flash much time to play ’em false, if he’d been so minded, the cunning scoundrels. Even so, they felt it would do no harm to drop a reminder in my ear, for when the Prince had said a few well-chosen words to wind up our little social gathering, and we had dispersed quietly into the dark, and I was making my way tremulously back to the courtyard, where they were still racketing fit to wake the dead, Rakohaja suddenly surged up at my elbow. Ah yes, I remember Flashman having a similar deceptive expression when he was about challange another to a duel. Anyway, that's another chapter down. quote:While I can lie and dissemble with the best as a rule, I’m not much hand at conspiracy; you’re too dependent on knavery other than your own. Mind you, they seemed a steady enough gang, and the one blessing was that there was little time left for anything to go wrong; if I’d had to wait days, or weeks, I don’t doubt my nerve would have cracked, or I’d have given myself away. When I went on parade next dawn, having had not a wink of sleep, I was twitching like a landed fish; I’d even started guiltily when my orderly brought my shaving-water—what was behind it, eh? wasn’t it suspicious that his behaviour was exactly the same as it had been for months? Did he know something? By the time I got to my office, and issued my orders of the day to my small staff of instructors, I was seeing spies everywhere, and behaving like a nervous actor in “Macbeth”. As if we needed any indication that bad luck was on its way. quote:The shocking problem, as I stared at the impassive black faces of my staff and tried to keep my hands still, was to devise a sufficient excuse for sending the Guards off to Ankay. God, how had I got into this? I couldn’t just order ’em off—that would excite comment for certain. They didn’t need the exercise, they’d been behaving well on parade—I couldn’t see any way, but I had them mustered in case, trusting the Lord would provide. And He did. The men were steady and well-turned out, as usual, but their junior officers had been at the Queen’s party all night, and came on parade half-soused. Seeing my chance, I set ’em to drill their columns, and in five minutes that muster looked like the Battle of Borodino, with Hovas walking into each other, whole companies going astray, and little drunk officers staggering about shrieking and weeping. In happy inspiration I had the band paraded to accompany the drill, and since most of them were still cross-eyed and blowing into the wrong end of their instruments, the shambles was only increased. Time to ruminate in a high stress situation is a terrible gift. quote:he knock on my door sounded thunderously, and I came bolt upright, sweating. I heard my orderly’s voice, and here he was, as I scrabbled for my boots, and behind him, the ominous figures of Hova guardsmen, bandoliers and all, their bare chests gleaming black in the lamplight. There was an under-officer, summoning me to the royal apartments; the words pierced my drowsy brain like drops of acid—oh, Christ, I was done for. I had to hold on to the edge of my cot as I pulled on my breeches; what could she want, at this hour, and why should she send a guard of soldiers, unless the worst had happened? The gaff was blown, it must be—steady, though, it might be nothing after all—I must keep a straight face, whatever it was. Panic shook me—should I try a bolt? No, that would be fatal, and my legs wouldn’t answer; it was all they could do to walk steady as the officer led the way round to the front of the palace, past the broad steps—was it imagination that there seemed to be more sentries than usual?—and across the court to the Silver Palace, gleaming dimly under the rising moon, its million bells tinkling softly in the night air. We've heard this mentioned before, now we get to learn the details. Also, uh-oh! quote:Out of the corner of my eye I could see her watching me, her hand at her earring. Then she muttered something, and Vavalana shuffled forward, his staff tapping. His grizzled head and skinny black face looked curiously bird-like; he blinked at me like a cheeky old robin. 
Arbite fucked around with this message at 08:54 on Nov 18, 2021 |
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Nov 16, 2021 08:12
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quote:My heart lurched, and I almost fell. For it meant she didn’t believe me, or at least wasn’t sure, which was just as bad; she was holding my hand, sentencing me to trial by ordeal, that horrible, lunatic test of Madagascar, which gave barely a chance of survival. I heard my own teeth chattering, and then I was grovelling and pleading, protesting my loyalty, swearing she was the darlingest, loveliest queen who ever was—only the blind certainty that confession meant sure and unspeakable death stopped me from whimpering out the whole plot; for at least the tanguin gave me a slender chance, and I suppose I knew it. The sullen face didn’t change. She let go my hand and gestured to the guards. It's funny how if he'd lost his head even a bit less he would have doomed himself. quote:My jaw was wrenched cruelly open; bestial fingers were holding it, and I choked as my mouth filled with the filthy odour of the tanguin. I struggled, gagging, but the scraps of chicken were thrust brutally to the back of my mouth; then powerful hands clamped my jaws shut and pinched my nostrils, I struggled and heaved, trying not to swallow, my throat was on fire with that vile dust, I was choking horribly, my lungs bursting, but it was no use. I gulped agonisingly—and then I was staggering free, sobbing and trying to retch, glaring round in panic, knowing I was dying—yet even then aware of the curiosity in the watching eyes of Vavalana and the guards, and the blank indifference of the creature motionless on the throne. Not his most suspenseful escape from death but quite vivid nonetheless. Author's Note posted:Flashman is the only survivor of the tanguin, or tangena, ordeal to have written of the experience. His account varies from other descriptions only on minor points—it was customary, when time was available, to starve the patient for 24 hours before the scraped stone of the tanguin fruit was administered, and some historians say that in order to pass the test the pieces of chicken skin had to be regurgitated in a particular direction. The deposit of 28 dollars (Flashman says 24) was normally put up by the accuser of the person undergoing the test—if the accused failed the test, the accuser got his money back, but if he passed, the accuser recovered only one-third of the deposit, the other thirds going to the accused and the Queen. quote:Fankanonikaka was at my elbow, and taking my cue from him I bowed unsteadily, backing out of the presence. As the doors closed on us, Ranavalona was still seated, the ostrich plume nodding as she muttered to her bottle idol; her maids were starting to mop the floor in a disconsolate way. Quick to panic, quick to clear his head right next to each other. We'll see what comes of this urgent situation... next time!
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Nov 18, 2021 09:00
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quote:That decided him; he grabbed a quill and scribbled as I hovered at his shoulder, shuddering with impatience. The minutes were flying, and with every one my chances were growing dimmer. I pocketed the order; there was one more item I must have. Staying illusively thorough, Flashman's showing quite the ability to come up with and execute a decent plan under the circumstances here. More than anything else in the book I think this particular crisis management skill strains its placemnt in the franchise's timeline. quote:I left him as pale as only a scared n***** can be, and rode at a gentle pace in the direction of Prince Rakota’s palace, leading the second horse. I daren’t hurry, for a mounted man was rare enough in Antan’ at any time, and a hastening rider in the middle of the night would have had them hollering peeler. This is the worst of all, when every second’s precious but you have to dawdle—I think of strolling terrified through the pandy lines at Lucknow with Campbell’s message, or that nerve-racking wait on the steamboat wharf at Memphis with a disguised slave-girl on my elbow and the catchers at our very heels; you must idle along carelessly with your innards screaming—had Andriama talked yet? Did the Queen know it all by now? Was Fankanonikaka, perhaps, already shrieking under the knives? Were the city gates still open? They never closed ’em, as a rule; if I found them shut, that would be a sure sign that the caper was blown—heaven help us then. The book claims a jigger-dubber is a door-keeper, various wiki's claim it's more specifically slang for a jailer. quote:If my nerves hadn’t been snapping, I dare say I’d have been quite entertained at the expressions which followed each other across his wrinkled black face. I was only tenth-caste foreign rubbish, a mere slave, he was thinking; on the other hand, I was sergeant-general, with impressive if undefined power, and much more to the point, I was the Queen’s current favourite and riding-master, as all the world knew. And I brought a command ostensibly from the throne itself. All this went through the woolly head—how much he’d been told by his master about the need to keep Elspeth’s presence secret. I couldn’t guess, but eventually he saw which way wisdom—and Ambohipotsy—lay. Flash is among other things instinctively racist but he doesn't let it blind him to things like the universality of those bemoaning how it used to be. quote:I waited, chewing my knuckles, pacing the porch, and groaning at the recollection of how long it took the blasted woman to dress. Ten to one she was peering at herself in the glass, patting her curls and making moues, while Andriama was probably blabbing, and plot, alarm, and arrest were breaking out with a vengeance; Ranavalona’s tentacles might be reaching out through the city this moment, in search of me—I stamped and cursed aloud in a fever of impatience, and then strode through the open door at the sound of a female voice. Sure enough, there she was, in cloak and bonnet, prattling her way down the stairs, and the butler carrying what looked like a hat-box, of all things. She gave a little shriek at the sight of me, but before I could frown her into silence another sound had me wheeling round, hackles rising, my hand starting towards my sword-hilt. And that is it for chapter 12. We will begin the 13th and final chapter and see where their luck takes these two... next time!
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Nov 20, 2021 11:20
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Elspeth's finest hour coming up.
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Nov 23, 2021 11:52
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quote:I may not be good for much, but if I have a minor talent it’s for finding the back door when coppers, creditors, and outraged husbands are coming in the front. I had the advantage of having my pants up and my boots on this time, and even hampered by the need to drag Elspeth along, I was going like a rat to a drainpipe before the butler even had his mouth open. Elspeth gave one shriek of astonishment as I bundled her along a passage beneath the stairs.  Don't flee home without it! quote:I glared her into silence, and then ventured a peep round the angle of the wall. There was a Hova trooper on the porch, leaning on his spear; I could hear faint sounds of talk from the hall—that damned butler giving the game away, no doubt. Suddenly from behind us, in the dark towards the back of the house, came the crash of a shutter and a harsh voice shouting. Elspeth squeaked, I jumped, and the Hova on the porch must have heard the shout too, for he called to the hall—and here, to my horror, came an under-officer, bounding down the porch steps sword in hand, and running along the front of the house towards our corner. Nothing will ever top the blown from a gun scene at the end of Great Game but Fraser could do damned good suspense right up to the end. quote:Fortunately the shrubbery screened our blundering progress entirely; we plunged through the undergrowth and fetched up gasping beneath a great clump of ferns not ten yards from the gate. Far back to our left the Hova was still on the house porch beneath the lamp; through the bushes ahead I could make out the faint gleam of the gate-lantern, but no sound, except from far behind us, where there were distant voices at the back of the house—were they coming nearer…? I peered cautiously through the fringe of bushes towards the gate—oh, God, there was a damned great Hova, not five yards away, his spear held across his body, looking back towards the house. The light gleamed dully on his massive bare arms and chest, on his gorilla features and gleaming spearhead—my innards quailed at the sight; I couldn’t hope to pass that, not with Elspeth in tow—and at that moment my loved one decided to give voice again. What didn't he do to the queen? Anyway, we'll say where these two dart off to next.
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Nov 23, 2021 12:38
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quote:“Not half as much as she’s offended me!” I snarled. “She’s a…a…monster, and if she lays hands on us we’re done for. Come on, confound it!” It's funny how when people spend enough time around each other they can start compensating for each other's emotional states, sometimes by subconsiously depositing them into another and other times consciously through preemption. Also a bandobast is shmancy (read Persian, which Flashman calls the most beautiful language) for organization. quote:Ahead of us the sky was lightening in the summer dawn, and my spirits with it—we were clear, free, and away!—and beyond those distant purple hills there was a British warship, and English voices, and Christian vittles, and safety behind British guns. Four days at most—if the horses I’d sent to Ankay were waiting ahead of us. In that snail-pace country, where any pursuit was sure to be on foot, no one could hope to overtake us, no alarm could outstrip us—I was ready to whoop in my saddle until I thought of that menacing presence still so close, that awful city crouching just behind us, and I shook Elspeth’s bridle and sent us forward at a hand-gallop. Very illustrative. And certainly not the kind of riding he prefers to do with her. quote:But our luck was still with us. We sighted the change horses just before dawn, raising the dust with the groom jogging along on the leader, and I never saw a jollier sight. They weren’t the pick of the light cavalry, but they had fodder and jaka in their saddle-bags, and I knew they’d see us there, if we spelled ’em properly. Thirty miles is as far as any beast can carry me, but that would be as much as Elspeth could manage at a stretch in any event. Ah, but who ever did? Even at the very end of the century she managed to shock you, Flash. Speaking of: quote:She was shocked—not a bit scared, apparently, just plain indignant. It was deplorable, and ought not to be allowed, was how she saw it; why had we (by which I took it she meant Her Britannic Majesty) taken no steps to prevent such misgovernment, and what was the Church thinking about? It was quite disgusting—I just sat munching jaka, but I couldn’t help, listening to her, being reminded of that old harridan Lady Sale, tapping her mittened fingers while the jezzail bullets whistled round her on the Kabul retreat, and demanding acidly why something was not done about it. Aye, it’s comical in its way—and yet, when you’ve seen the mem-sahibs pursing their lips and raising indignant brows in the face of dangers and horrors that set their men-folk shaking, you begin to understand why there’s all the pink on the map. It’s vicarage morality, nursery discipline, and a thorough sense of propriety and sanitation that have done it—and when they’ve gone, and the mem-sahibs with them, why, the map won’t be pink any longer. And on that beautiful note let's call it for now.
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Nov 27, 2021 12:02
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quote:“Oh, no!” says she, wide-eyed. “I am very silly, and weak, and…and not a trump at all! Feckless, Papa says. But I love to be your ‘old girl’”—she snuggled her head down on my chest—“and to think that you like me a little, too…better than you like the horrid Queen of Madagascar, or Mrs Leo Lade, or those Chinese ladies we saw in Singapore, or Kitty Stevens, or—my dearest, whatever is the matter?” And a joker too. quote:We were off again before dawn, crossing the Angavo Pass which leads to the upland Ankay Plain, going warily because I knew the Hova Guard regiment which I’d sent out couldn’t be far away. I kept casting north, and we must have outflanked them, for we saw not a soul until the Mangaro ford, where the villagers turned out in force to stare at us as we crossed the river with our little herd. It was level going then until the jungle closed in and the mountains began, but we were making slower time than I’d hoped for; it began to look like a five-day trek instead of four, but I wasn’t much concerned All that mattered was that we should keep ahead of pursuit; the frigate would still be there. I was sure of this because it was bound to wait for an answer to the protest which, according to Laborde, had only reached the Queen a couple of days ago. Her answer, even if she’d sent it at once, would take more than a week to reach Tamitave, so if we kept up our pace we’d be there with time in hand.    They're no orangutans, but neat in their own way. quote:There’s forty miles of that forest, but thanks to good Queen Ranavalona we didn’t have to cross it all, as you would today. The jungle track runs clear across towards Andevoranto, whence you travel up the coast to Tamitave, but in 1845 there was a short-cut—the Queen’s buffalo road, cut straight through the hilly jungle to the coastal plain. This was the track, hacked out by thousands of slaves, which I’d seen on the way up; we reached it on the fourth day, a great avenue through the green, with the mountain mist hanging over it in wraiths. It was eerie and foreboding, but at least it was fiat, and with half our beasts already abandoned in exhaustion, I was glad of the easier going. Here's younger Flash again, making mistakes more from carelessness than his ill nature. We'll see where that gets him... next time.
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Nov 29, 2021 10:53
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Oh no, I've caught up with the thread (after a crazy amount of bingeing.) A great thread- lots of useful extra info- but the Absolute Highlight has certainly been Elspeth's entries and fondness for Random Capitalisation.
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Dec 1, 2021 09:11
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quote:“Harry! Oh, Harry—quickly! Look, look!” One can only imagine what threats were actually hurled at the guards and what their fears have imagined since they began the pursuit. quote:She was pale as a sheet, but she nodded and for once didn’t ask me who these strange gentlemen were, or what they wanted, or if her hair was disarranged. I wheeled and set off down the slope, with her close behind, and the yell as they saw us turn was clear enough now; a savage hunting cry that had me digging in my heels despite myself. We drummed down the hill, and I forced myself not to look back until we’d crossed the little valley and come to the next crest—we’d gained on them, but they were still coming, and I gulped and gestured furiously to Elspeth to keep up. This book doesn't have the shocks and suspense of the last but the sense of dread that can ooze from this comedy is remarkable. quote:It was a question which had occurred to me, as I stared palsied from the empty sea in front to our pursuers behind—they had halted on the far crest, which was an irony, if you like. They could crawl on their bellies towards us now, for all it mattered—we were trapped, helpless, with nothing to do but wait until they came up with us at their leisure, to seize and drag us back to the abominable fate that would be waiting for us in Antan’. I could picture those snake-like eyes, the steaming pits at Ambohipotsy, the bodies turning in the air from the top of the cliff, the blood-curdling shriek of the mob—I realised I was babbling out a flood of oaths, as I stared vainly round for an escape which I knew wasn’t there. Well. Hoorah for the French! They actually don't get much to do in this series, usually Britain's snooty lackey like in Crimea and China, and I don't believe Flashman ever considers Napoleon III worth a mention, nevermind claiming to have met him. Anyway, two parts from the finale. See you... next time!
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Dec 1, 2021 12:05
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quote:Elspeth was beside me, I was hugging her almost out of her seat as we watched them spellbound, our flight, the fort, pursuit all forgotten—she yelped in my ear as a third shadow loomed up in the wake of the ships, and this time it was the real thing, no error, and I found myself choking tears of joy, for that was the dear old Union Jack at the truck of the frigate which came gliding out on to the blue water. This event allows us to place an exact date: June 15, 1845. quote:Through the clear air we could see every detail—the leadsman in the chains swinging away, the white-shirted tars on her decks, the blue-coated officers on the quarter-deck, even a little midshipman in the rigging with his telescope trained on the fort. Silently she bore in until I was sure she must run aground, and then a voice called from the poop, there was a rush of men and a flapping of canvas, she wore round, and every gun crashed out as one in a deafening inferno of sound. The wave of the broadside hit us in a blast of air, the fort battlements seemed to vanish in smoke and dust and flying fragments—but when all cleared, there the fort still stood, and her guns banging irregularly in reply. A crisis allowing true colours to show. quote:The boats were into the surf, only a moment from the shore; the temptation to run towards them was almost more than a respectable poltroon could bear—but if we broke cover too soon, with three hundred yards of naked sand between us and the spot where the nearest Frog boat would touch, we’d be within easy musket-shot from the fort to our right. We must lie up in the grove until the landing-party had got up the beach and rushed the fort—that would keep the black musketeers busy, and it would be safe to race for the boats, waving a white flag—I was tearing away at Elspeth’s petticoat, hushing her squeals of protest, peering back through the undergrowth at the approaching Hovas. There were three of ’em, trotting towards the grove, with their officer far behind waving them on; the leading one was almost into the trees, looking stupid, turning to seek instructions from his fellows; then the flat, brutal face turned in our direction, and he began to pick his way into the grove, his spear balanced, his face turning this way and that. And what a woman, what a lady, she is! We'll wrap this story up... next time.
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Dec 5, 2021 10:40
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And now, the conclusion. quote:A party of British sailors, carrying empty stretchers, were racing across our front to the fort, and with them this red-faced chap with a gold strip on his coat, who’d checked to pop his eyes at us. He was waving a sword and pistol. I yelled to him above the din of firing that we were escaped prisoners of the Malagasies, but he only went redder than ever. Thank goodness this showed the present limitations on joint operations between these two powers and this was rectifeid quickly and permanently. quote:I called out for assistance, but it was like talking in a madhouse—and then over all the trampling and babble the distant guns from the ships began to boom again, and shot whistled overhead to crash into the fort, for our rearguard was clear now, skirmishing away in goodish order, exchanging musket fire with the battlements which they’d failed to overcome. All they seemed to have captured was the Malagassy flag; in among the retiring skirmishers, with the enemy shot peppering them, a disorderly mob of French and English seamen were absolutely at blows with each other for possession of the confounded thing, with cries of “Ah, voleurs!” and “Belay, you sod!”, the Frogs kicking and the Britons lashing out with their fists, while two of their officers tried to part them. And just in case we had too high an opinion of Britons after this Malagasy excursion, here's this. quote:“If you’ve a moment,” says I, “I’d be obliged if you’d assist my wife to your boats. We’re British, and we’ve escaped from captivity in the interior.” Hah! Also a médecin-major is the equivalent of a surgeon major in the British Army, or just surgeon in the then ranks of the US navy. quote:“Do not raise the voice above the half, if you please! Ah, but see, you have returned madame to a decline!” While the term Entente Cordiale can be traced back two years before the events of the book, it's rather more probable that he's referring to the more recent formal agreements made between the two. quote:“Assassin!” cries Boudancourt, brandishing his half. And on that perfect note, the narrative comes to an end. Also it can't pass without stressing that while Harry and Elspeth get away, the ending does have a combined force from two great powers get beaten back and thrown off the beach by their would be colonial subjects. And now the punchline:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7lzL8IuH-vc It was the father. And on that promise of further adventure we close. I'll be giving final thoughts on this book and where it fits with the franchise on the whole... next time! Arbite fucked around with this message at 13:23 on Dec 8, 2021 |
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Dec 8, 2021 13:12
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 Flashman's Lady is complete! Before I go any further I want to extend my sincerest thanks to everyone who contributed, whether it was through a detailed explanation of cricket or even just a quick comment reacting. This tale has the greatest distance travelled and amount of separate lands explored of anywhere in the franchise, and manages to through beautiful efficiency to leave the reader satisfied that they got the picture them all. From the field of Lords to the streets of Singapore, from Sarawak's swelling lands to Madagascar's roads of death, the book has been quite the journey, and that's not counting the people! The fictional (or heavily fictionalized, like Don Solomon) characters are great fun to follow, and the historical characters all have a bit of glow that only GMF's abbreviated take on them can give. Elspeth shines brightest here, proving irresistible to some and worth treasuring by all the men who encounter or even hear tell of her, and her beautiful take on events in the all too irregular diaries are always a laugh. Harry is back again as his young, overly provocative and ill-considered self. I've heard criticisms that his character progresses in order of publication rather than chronologically but when you look at the amount of hell that is solely his own making rather than is thrust upon him despite his best efforts compared to his later efforts, I don't think I agree. His devotion to getting back Elspeth, even at the cost further imperiling himself is shown both in Borneo and during the last escape from Antananarivo does make for rather staccato sweetness. Don Solomon is introduced as a curious but good natured fellow and it is fascinating to follow him all the way until he is left cursing on that Malagasy dock. Still, precisely how the customs officials managed to pry Elspeth from him after Harry is taken away is difficult to imagine and probably best left to the reader's own imagined justification. Speaking of the Malagasy, it's surely no coincedence that Fraser has Flashman become intimates with both the most devastating native and celebrated white ruler of their years. While there is at bottom something to Ranavalona keeping whitey from grabbing onto the island while she lived, that the islands population recorded a drop by half in only six of her 33 years of her rule (if wikipedia is accurate) makes commending that wholeheartedly a difficult pill. Indeed, it was not the succession of her better-natured son that brought about Frankish annexation but the instability of several rapid successions and internal power struggles along with final British accession to Madagascar being a French sphere of influence that let the place finally fall (to woefully abridge the story). Conversely, James Brooke was and is regarded as being peculiarly benevolent in his administration of Sarawak, as Flashman and others would note. Whether through injury or inclination he would not have a legitimate heir to take control of the raj but had it instead pass to his nephew, his son, the Japanese, back to the Brookes, sold to the British as a crown colony, and finally to Malaysia. Today Kuching is the largest city in the state of Sarawak and is noted for the great unity and harmony of the many races within her. Every major setting here certainly deserves all the interest you care to give it and I would encourage anyone to look deeper into whatever has piqued their interest. So, five months later, that's my take on the book. We're now halfway through, and nextime we head back to The States for Flashman and the Redskins! Please, let me know what you thought about the text, both as we were going through it and now that it's complete. Arbite fucked around with this message at 15:12 on Feb 4, 2022 |
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Dec 12, 2021 04:56
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Thank you again Arbite for doing this. I read all the books many years ago but it’s a delight having the extra detail and commentary. I enjoy this thread immensely. I note there aren’t always a lot of comments but as I read each new post of yours religiously, so do I imagine many lurkers.
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Dec 12, 2021 07:04
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I read (and own) quite a lot of these, so it's good to revisit them with commentary.
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Dec 12, 2021 09:51
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The much bigger anachronism is that France, in 1845, was not a Republic. Rather basic error for books that are marketed on being well-researched.
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Dec 12, 2021 10:57
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Blamestorm posted:Thank you again Arbite for doing this. I read all the books many years ago but it’s a delight having the extra detail and commentary. I enjoy this thread immensely. I note there aren’t always a lot of comments but as I read each new post of yours religiously, so do I imagine many lurkers. Exactly this.
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Dec 13, 2021 01:16
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Hasn't been as much to comment on this one, but I enjoyed it. Had a much more romantic feel to it. Of course, after the Sepoy rebellion, anything would feel light-hearted.
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Dec 13, 2021 22:53
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Loved the book, has my two favorite things: a woman in a position of power scaring the poo poo out of flash, and flash getting assaulted while trying to get laid. Also had my least fav thing, casual sexual assault.
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Dec 13, 2021 23:28
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 quote:I never did learn to speak Apache properly. Mind you, it ain’t easy, mainly because the red brutes seldom stand still long enough – and if you’ve any sense, you don’t either, or you’re liable to find yourself studying their system of vowel pronunciation (which is unique, by the way) while hanging head-down over a slow fire or riding for dear life across the Jornada del Muerto with them howling at your heels and trying to stick lances in your liver. Both of which predicaments I’ve experienced in my time, and you may keep ’em. Apart from Flashman's appearance in Mr. American this scene is the oldest we ever see him. quote:“And what d’you know about them, apart from that beastly chatter?” says I, pretty warm, for he had given me quite a start, and I could see at a glance that he was one of these snoopopathic meddlers who strut about with a fly-whisk and notebook, prodding lies out of the n****** and over-tipping the dragoman on college funds. He looked taken aback, until they told him who I was, and that I had a fair acquaintance with North American Indians myself, to say nothing of other various aborigines; at that he gave me a distant flabby hand, and condescended to ask me an uneasy question or two about my American travels. I told him I’d been out with Terry and Custer in ’76 – and that was as far as I got before he said: “Oh, indeed?” down his nose, damned chilly, showed me his shoulder, and began the most infernal prose you ever heard to the rest of the company, all about the Yankees’ barbarous treatment of the Plains tribes after the Uprising, and their iniquitous Indian policy in general, the abominations of the reservation system, and the cruelties practised in the name of civilisation on helpless nomads who desired only to be left alone to pursue their traditional way of life as peaceful herdsmen, fostering their simple culture, honouring their ancient gods, and generally prancing about like fauns in Arcady. Mercifully, I hadn’t had dinner. The beats of this conversation are actually quite similar to one Fraser relates in 'Quartered Safe out Here' regarding the dropping of the atomic bomb. quote:My new acquaintance was going still pinker, and taking in breath; he wasn’t used to the argumentum ad Chico Velasquez, and it was plainly getting his goat, as I intended it should.  Helen Hunt Jackson wrote A Century of Dishonor in 1881. quote:Which would have enabled him to stalk off with the honours, but I don’t abandon an argument when reasoned persuasion may prevail. And with that extremely British scene caused and finished we go back to the ex post facto. It is interesting how not only does Flashman fail to get himself out of a negative confrontation as his youngest self could fail to, he directly incited it. quote:You may wonder that I got in such a taking over one pompous windbag spouting claptrap; usually I just sit and sneer when the know-alls start prating on behalf of the poor oppressed heathen, sticking a barb in ’em as opportunity serves – why, I’ve absolutely heard ’em lauding the sepoy mutineers as honest patriots, and I haven’t even bothered to break wind by way of dissent. I know the heathen, and their oppressors, pretty well, you see, and the folly of sitting smug in judgement years after, stuffed with piety and ignorance and book-learned bias. Humanity is beastly and stupid, aye, and helpless, and there’s an end to it. And that’s as true for Crazy Horse as it was for Custer – and they’re both long gone, thank God. But I draw the line at the likes of my anthropological half-truther; oh, there’s a deal in what he says, right enough – but it’s only one side of the tale, and when I hear it puffed out with all that righteous certainty, as though every white man was a villain and every redskin a saint, and the fools swallow it and feel suitably guilty … well, it can get my goat, especially if I’ve got a drink in me and my kidneys are creaking. So I’m slung out of the Travellers’ for ungentlemanly conduct. Much I care; I wasn’t a member, anyway. Travellers remains an all Gentleman's Club in London designed for 'the right kind of people' who've travelled at least 500 miles from London.  quote:A waste of good passion, of course. The thing is, I suppose, that while I spent most of my time in the West skulking and running and praying to God I’d come out with a whole skin, I have a strange sentiment for the place, even now. That may surprise you, if you know my history – old Flashy, the decorated hero and cowardly venal scoundrel who never had a decent feeling in all his scandalous, lecherous life. Aye, but there’s a reason, as you shall see. And with the preamble out of the way I urge you to re-read Flash for Freedom, or at least the thread's version. We'll delve more into Flashman's thoughts and experiences with the American west as the story progresses.
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Dec 28, 2021 11:48
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And now for some more unforgettable diatribes by Captain John Charity Spring, whose wife never appears again. quote:“I should have dropped you overboard off Finisterre!” snarls he. “It would have been the price of you, by God! Aye, well, I missed my chance – quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.” He wheeled on me suddenly, and those dreadful pale eyes would have frozen brandy. “But Homer won’t nod again, Mister Flashman, and you can lay to that. One false step out of you this trip, and you’ll wish the Amazons had got you!” Yes, to the shock of none the slave ship skip is still a racist. quote:He drummed impatiently, growling, while I got the packet out – that precious sheaf of flimsy, closely-written papers that Comber had died for – and he pawed through it, grinding his teeth as he read. “That ingrate sanctimonious reptile! He should have lingered for a year! I was like a father to the bastard, and see how he repaid my benevolence, by God – skulking and spying like a rat at a scuttle! But you’re all alike, you shabby-genteel vermin! Aye, Master Comber, Phaedrus limned your epitaph: saepe intereunt aliis meditantes necem, and serve the bastard right!” He stuffed the papers into his pocket, drank, and brooded at me with that crazy glint in his eyes that I remembered so well from the Balliol College. “And you – you held on to them – why? To steer me into Execution Dock, you—” https://i.imgur.com/IBPDRPD.mp4 quote:“I can see that,” he scoffed. “Stricken with grief, I daresay. I know the signs – a face like a Tyneside winter and a damned inheriting gleam in your eye. Bah, why don’t you blubber, you hypocritical pup? Nulli jactantius moerent, quam qui loetantur, or to give Tacitus a free translation, you’re reckoning up the bloody dollars already! Well, you haven’t got ’em yet, cully, and if you want to see London Bridge again—” and he bared his teeth at me “—you’ll tread mighty delicate, like Agag, and keep on the weather side of John Charity Spring.” Oh dear, caught between a slave catcher by land and a slave catcher by sea, with the Yanks still on the prowl for him. It's a lonely fight when you're out for yourself. Also, next time I'll give the official translations but try and translate the latin yourself.
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Dec 31, 2021 15:29
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So the Latin officially is: 1. Even good Homer nods sometimes 2. I carry all my things with me. 3. Those who plot the destruction of others often destroy themselves. 4. None mourn with more affectation of sorrow than those who are inwardly rejoiced. 5. With me for your leader you will be safe. 6. A want greatly to be deplored. There's more in this chapter but I'll just provide the translations as they happen. quote:You all know these embarrassing little encounters, of course – the man you’ve borrowed money off, or the chap whose wife has flirted with you, or the people whose invitation you’ve forgotten, or the vulgarian who accosts you in public. Omohundro wasn’t quite like these, exactly – the last time we’d met I’d been stealing one of his slaves, and shots had been flying, and he’d been roaring after me with murder in his eye, while I’d been striking out for the Mississippi shore. But the principle was the same, and so, I flatter myself, was my immediate behaviour. It's always lovely to see ill considered malice blow up spectacularly. quote:For: This chapter hasn't been much on economy but long on fun detail. quote:There was a dead silence, broken only by the scraping of Omohundro’s nails at the boards – and presently by a wild scramble of feet as one of the principal parties withdrew from the scene. If there’s one thing I know, it’s when to leave; I was over the counter and through the door behind it like a shot, into a store-room with an open window, and then tearing pell-mell up an alley, blind to all but the need to escape. And with one peril dodged and another closer than ever we'll leave it there. Thankfully the French Quarter was spared the worst of Katrina and many notable buildings Flashman would have walked past still stand to this day. Arbite fucked around with this message at 03:42 on Jan 8, 2022 |
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Jan 7, 2022 12:18
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quote:“Shut your trap or I’ll shut it forever!” he hissed. “Now then – what house is that, and why were you creeping to it? Quick – and keep your voice down!” Men do more from habit than from reason. It's interesting to compare Spring & Flash's amoral paths to the same place. quote:My answer was true enough. “I don’t know. Christ, you killed a man back there – she may … may not …” Flash is a ways older than he was in the last book but can still be rocked onto the back foot and kept there. quote:As always, she was garnished like Pompadour, her hennaed hair piled high above that plump handsome face, jewels glistening in her ears and at her wrists and on that splendid bosom that I remembered so fondly; even in my anxious state, it did me good just to watch ’em bounce as she swayed down the stairs – as usual in the evening, she plainly had a pint or two of port inside her. She descended grand as a duchess, peering towards us in the hall’s dim light, and then she checked with a sudden scream of “Beauchamp!” and came hurrying down the last few steps and across the hall, her face alight. Just in case you going to start liking anyone unreservedly, there's your reminder of what Susie's business entails for all concerned. Let's see where the trio are off to... next time!
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Jan 16, 2022 12:03
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John Charity Spring is such a wild, interesting character. Clearly Fraiser thought so, too, since he keeps bringing him back. Any more and he’s going to start being one-note, though.
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Jan 16, 2022 19:18
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quote:“An’ you say it was self-defence? ’E barred your way, an’ there was a ruckus, an’ ’e drew a pistol on you?” Spring said that was it exactly, and she pulled a face. The passions are in arms. And skilled hands they are indeed. quote:“But then, I can say the exact same about you, lovey, can’t I?” she chuckled, and plunged at me, with one hand in my curls and the other fondling elsewhere. “Ooh, my stars! Give it here! Ah, you ’aven’t changed, ’ave you – an’, oh, but I’ve missed you so, you great lovely villain!” Shrinking little violet, you see; she munched away at my lips with that big red mouth, panting names in my ear that I blush to think of; it made me feel right at home, though, the artful way she got every stitch off me without apparently taking her tongue out of my throat once. I’ve known greater beauties, and a few that were just as partial to pork, but none more skilled at stoking what Arnold called the deadly fires of lust; when she knelt above me on the couch and licked her lips, with one silken knee caressing me to distraction while she slowly scooped those wondrous poonts out of her corset and smothered me with ’em – well, I didn’t mind a bit. This is the second straight book that Messalina, the third wife of Claudius, has been brought up. I imagine I Clavdivs left quite the impression on Fraser. quote:“I bet you didn’t itch long,” says she, sniffing. “Not with all them saucy black tails about. Gammon!” Yes, don't this book will feature just as much scenery porn as you could want from a Flashman tale, covering the still incomparable and gorgeous American west. quote:It sounded reasonable, I said, but a bit wild to establish a place like hers, and she chuckled confidently. Indeed, I don’t envy – I am rather inclined to wonder, and The spring does not always flourish. quote:Pleasantries would have been out of season, anyway, for the news was bad. Susie had had inquiries made in town, and reported that Omohundro’s death was causing a fine stir, there was a great manhunt afoot, and our descriptions were posted at every corner. There was no quick way out of New Orleans, that was certain, and when I reminded Susie that something would have to be done in the next few days, she just patted my hand and said she would manage, never fear. Spring said nothing, but watched us with those pale eyes. And with that landmine unavoided we'll leave it there. Arbite fucked around with this message at 08:20 on Jan 18, 2022 |
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Jan 18, 2022 08:01
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quote:If half the art of survival is running, the other half is keeping a straight face. I can’t count the number of times my fate has depended on my response to some unexpected and abominable proposal – like the night Yakub Beg suggested I join a suicidal attempt to scupper some Russian ammunition ships, or Sapten’s jolly notion about swimming naked into a Gothic castle full of Bismarck’s thugs, or Brooke’s command to me to lead a charge against a head-hunters’ stockade. Jesu, the times that we have seen. (Queer, though, the one that lives in memory is from my days as a snivelling fag at Rugby when Bully Dawson was tossing the new bugs in blankets, and grabbed me, gloating, and I just hopped on to the blanket, cool as you please for all my bowels were heaving in panic, and the brute was so put out that he turfed me off in fury, as I’d guessed he would, and I was spared the anguish of being tossed while the other fags were put through it, howling.) This is new, we've never had Flash listing a series of adventures that we'd already read. quote:At all events – and young folk with their way to make in the world should mark this – you must never suppose that a poker face is sufficient. That shows you’re thinking, and sometimes the appearance of thought ain’t called for. It would have been fatal now, with Susie; I had to show willing quick, but not too much – if I cried aloud for joy and swept her into my arms, she’d smell a large whiskered rat. It all went through my mind in an instant, more or less as follows: 1, I’m married already; 2, she don’t know that; 3, if I don’t accept there’s a distinct risk she’ll show me the door, although she might not; 4, if she does, I’ll get hung; 5, on balance, best to cast myself gratefully at her feet for the moment, and think about it afterwards. Well, I doubt Flash would charge into an ongoing assault for Susie, so there's that. quote:“I know I’m foolish,” says she, all earnest and sentimental, “an’ that you’re the kind of rascal that could break my ’eart … but I’ll take my chance o’ that. I reckon you like me, an’ I ’ope you’ll like me more. Love grows,” says the demented biddy, “an’ while I’m forty-two—” she was pushing fifty, I may say “an’ a bit older than you, that don’t ’ave to signify. An’ I reckon – please don’t mind me sayin’ this, dearest – that even at worst, you might settle for me bein’ well-off, which I am, an’ able to give you a comfortable life, as well as all the love that’s in me. It’s no use sayin’ practical things don’t matter, ’cos they do – an’ I wouldn’t expect you to have me if I was penniless. But you know me, an’ that when I say I can make a million, it’s a fact. You can be a rich man, with me, an’ ’ave everythin’ you could wish for, an’ if you was to say ‘aye’ on those terms, I’d understand. But I reckon—” she couldn’t keep the tears back, as she held my chin and stroked my whiskers and I looked like Galahad on his vigil “– I reckon you care for me enough, anyway – an’ we can be happy together.” People can have the strangest lines. quote:“Tut-tut,” says I, “not so loud. She doesn’t know that.” A swine from the devil’s herd, and I see and approve better things, but follow the worse which I condemn. We'll see how much guff they can all take next time!
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Jan 21, 2022 08:25
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I kinda find Spring being so against bigamy hilarious.
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Jan 21, 2022 21:37
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