A Singularly Unpleasant Creature: Let's Read Flashman!

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > A Singularly Unpleasant Creature: Let's Read Flashman!

«‹›34 »

McTimmy: Feb 29, 2008

Oh Flashy.

# ? Feb 7, 2020 01:06

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? Apr 25, 2024 23:31

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

Young Bismarck did quite a bit of his own carousing iirc.

# ? Feb 7, 2020 11:45

TheGreatEvilKing: Mar 28, 2016

I might have to track down a Flashman book or two now.

# ? Feb 7, 2020 21:56

Notahippie: Feb 4, 2003; Kids, it's not cool to have Shane MacGowan teeth

TheGreatEvilKing posted:

I might have to track down a Flashman book or two now.

They're written nonsequentially, and half of the adventures he references are never included in any of them, so you can really jump in anywhere. Pick a historical period you're interested in and go for it - I particularly thought the ones about the Lucknow mutiny (Flashman and the Great Game) and the Charge of the Light Brigade (Flashman at the Charge) were both really fascinating.

# ? Feb 7, 2020 22:49

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

Flashman does his best to be friendly with Bismarck, to not much effect. Bismarck does comment that he thinks he might have seen Flashman somewhere in Germany before, but Flashman says he's never been to Germany. At dinner, Bismarck dominates the conversation with one tedious lecture after another until everyone in the house is thoroughly sick of him. Flashman decides the best thing is to just avoid him.

quote:

He unsettled me; he was so damned superior. Tom was wrong in one thing: Bismarck wasn't an rear end, whatever else he might be. In some ways he was like that outstanding idiot Cardigan, under whom I had served in the 11th Hussars, but only on the surface. He had the same splendid certainty in everything he said and did; he looked on the world as created for him alone; he was right, and that was that. But where Cardigan's arrogant eye had the shallow stare of the born fool, Bismarck's didn't. You could see the brain at work behind it, and those who listened only to his rather monotonous sermonisings and noticed only his lack of humour�of our kind of humour, anyway�and put him down as a pompous dullard were well wide of the mark.

Relations become even more strained when Bismarck manages to insult Flashman's two main talents � languages and horsemanship. At breakfast one day, Bismarck overhears someone mention Flashy's skill at acquiring languages, and sneers that it's a useful talent for a headwaiter.

The second, and more serious, incident comes after a trip out into the country to hunt turns into an impromptu steeplechase race back home. Flashman holds back at first, not wanting to charge ahead and risk a fall, but as the race moves into more open land, he pushes forward.

quote:

There is a moment every jockey knows, when he feels his mount surge forward, and he lies with his head down being brushed by the mane, and sees the gap narrowing ahead of him, and knows he has the legs of the field. I felt it then as I thundered past the ruck, hearing the thud of the hooves and seeing the clods thrown up from the wet turf, feeling the wind in my face as the trees flew past; even now I see the scarlet coats in the fading light, and smell the rain-sodden country, and hear the yelps of the fellows as they cheered each other on and laughed and cursed. God, it was good to be young and English then!

We thundered through the woodland like a charge of dragoons and were out on a long, rising incline. Conyngham held the lead to the crest, but as we came over and down it was the turn of the heavier men; Bismarck went past him, and then I, too; we pounded down to the hedgerow, Bismarck went over like a bird--he could ride, I may say�and I launched my hunter at the same gap and came through on his heels. I stayed with him, over hedges, lanes, ditches, and fences, until I saw the steeple perhaps half a mile away, and now, thinks I, is the time to get my nose in front.

I had the speed in hand; his head came round as I drew level, and he hammered in his heels and plied his crop, but I knew I had the distance of him. He was leading by half a length as we took a rail fence; then we were on pasture with only one hedge between us and the common that ran up to the churchyard. I inched up level and then led by a head, scanning the distant hedge for a good jump. It was a nasty one, high hawthorn with trees at intervals throwing their shade over the hedgerow; there was one place that looked likely, where the hawthorn thinned and only a couple of rails covered the gap. I clapped in my heels and made for it; first over was a certain winner. As we closed in, with me half a length in front, I realised that even at the rails the jump was a good five feet; I didn't half fancy it, for as Hughes pointed out, Flashman was good only at those games which didn't entail any physical risk. But there was nothing for it; I had Bismarck headed and must keep my lead, so I steadied the hunter for the jump, and then out of nowhere came Bismarck's grey at my elbow, challenging for the jump.

"Give way!" I roared. "My jump, drat your eyes!"

By God, he paid not the slightest heed, but came boring in, neck and neck with me for the fence. We were almost knee to knee as we rushed down on it.

"Get out, blast you!" I yelled again, but he was just staring ahead, teeth clenched and whip going, and I knew in an instant that it was a case of pull up or have the most unholy smash as two horses tried to take a jump where there was only space for one.

As it was, I came within an ace of a hellish tumble; I reined back and at the same time tried to swerve from the gap; the hunter checked and swung away and we scraped along the face of the hedge with no more damage than a few scratches, while Master Bismarck cleared the rails with ease.

By the time I had trotted back, cursing most foully, the rest of the chase was thundering up; Bismarck was waiting at the lychgate looking cool and smug when we arrived.

"Don't you know to give way to the leader?" says I, boiling angry. "We might have broken our necks, thanks to you!"

"Come, come, Captain Flashman," says he, "it would have been thanks to you if we had, for you would have been foolishly challenging the stronger rider."

"What?" says I. "And who the devil says you are the stronger rider?"

"I won, did I not?" says he.

# ? Feb 8, 2020 00:23

shovelbum: Oct 21, 2010; Fun Shoe

I love any Flashman with riding because it's one of the only things he is really genuinely into

# ? Feb 8, 2020 10:07

Pistol_Pete: Sep 15, 2007; Oven Wrangler

"Bismarck" posted:

"I won, did I not? ", says he.

# ? Feb 8, 2020 13:09

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

Flashman gets his revenge, however (was there any doubt?). A few days later, after watching the prizefight, Flashman, Bismarck, and the other guests are listening to the referee, retired boxer Jack Gully, tell stories about his career and boxing in general. Bismarck has to give his opinion of boxing:

quote:

"You make very much of this boxing, I see. Now, it is an interesting enough spectacle, two of the lower orders thrashing each other with their fists, but does it not become boring after a while? Once, or even twice, perhaps, one might go to watch, but surely men of education and breeding must despise it."

He goes on to compare boxing unfavorably to German schlager dueling, which he claims requires real martial skill. This, of course, doesn't win him many fans among the English crowd. Flashman, seeing his chance, jumps in to ask Bismarck if he thinks he could handle himself in a boxing match (or �mill,� as it was called back then). Bismarck asks if he's offering a challenge, but Flashman says he just wants Bismarck to learn something about boxing and points out they have the best teacher possible here � Gully.

John Gully's actual boxing career lasted only three years; he took it up while imprisoned for debts when he failed as a butcher, and was successful enough to pay off his debts and make a decent bankroll. After retiring, he became a bookie, a pub owner, a racehorse owner, and a Member of Parliament.

If you're curious, you can read more about some of Gully's fights from a contemporary sportswriter here. Please note that in these descriptions, "bottom" is used to mean a combination of courage and toughness -- so try not to snort too much at lines like "The bottom displayed on both sides excited universal astonishment."

Gully waves Flashman's suggestion off at first, but everyone is excited at the prospect of seeing him in action � not to mention seeing the snotty German taken down a peg. He finally agrees when one of the guests offers to sell him a racehorse he has his eye on.

Bismarck is laced into boxing gloves � this is still the pre-Marquis of Queensberry, bare-knuckle era, but padded gloves for training and sparring had been introduced a couple of decades ago. Then he and Gully face off. And while Bismarck may be half Gully's age, big, strong, and athletic, Gully is still a professional.

quote:

"Time!" cries Spottswood, and Bismarck swung his right fist. Jack swayed a little and it went past his face. Bismarck stumbled, someone laughed, and then he struck again, right and left. The right went past Jack's head, the left he stopped with his palm. Bismarck stepped back, looking at him, and then came boring in, driving at Jack's midriff, but he just turned his body sideways, lazily almost, and the German went blundering by, thumping the air.

Everyone cheered and roared with laughter, and Bismarck wheeled round, white-faced, biting his lip. Jack, who didn't seem to have moved more than a foot, regarded him with interest, and motioned him to come on again. Slowly, Bismarck recovered himself, raised his hands and then shot out his left hand as he must have seen the pugs do that afternoon. Jack rolled his head out of the way and then leaned forward a little to let Bismarck's other hand sail past his head.

"Well done, mynheer," he cried. "That was good. Left and right, that's the way. Try again."

Bismarck tried, and tried again, and for three minutes Jack swayed and ducked and now and then blocked a punch with his open hand. Bismarck flailed away, and never looked like hitting him, and everyone cheered and roared with laughter. Finally Spottswood called, "Time", and the German stood there, chest heaving and face crimson with his efforts, while Jack was as unruffled as when he started.

"Don't mind 'em, mynheer," says he. "There's none of 'em would ha' done better, and most not so well. You're fast, and could be faster, and you move well for a novice."

Bismarck reluctantly admits that yes, there's skill in boxing, and then says he wants to keep going � and this time he'll let Gully hit him back. Gully admires his spirit, and says he'll just spar with him. They go around again, with Bismarck flailing away and unable to land a punch, while Gully taps Bismarck with his gloves again and again � and Flashman is sure to laugh loudly every time Bismarck whiffs on a punch.

Finally, just as time is called, Bismarck charges in and Gully accidentally pops him on the nose, drawing blood. He starts to apologize, and Bismarck grabs him around the waist and bodyslams him to the floor. Gully gets up furious but trying to keep his temper under control.

quote:

"Best stop now, I think," says he at last.

"You do not wish to continue?" cries Bismarck. He looked fairly blown, but the arrogant note in his voice was there, as ever.

Gully stared at him a moment, "Best not," says he.

The room was uncomfortably quiet, until Bismarck laughed his short laugh and shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, very well," says he, "since you do not wish it."

Two red spots came into Jack's pale cheeks. "I think it's best to stop now," says he, in a hard voice. "If you're wise, mynheer, you'll make the most of that."

"As you please," says Bismarck, and to my delight he added: "It is you who are ending the bout, you know."

Perceval, the host, tries to calm things down, but Gully can't take the idea of someone, especially not an arrogant foreigner, claiming he asked for a fight to stop. Bismarck says he's willing to continue, and they go at it in earnest, much to Flashy's joy.

quote:

I don't know what Bismarck hoped for. He wasn't a fool, and Gully had demonstrated already that the German was a child in his hands. I can only suppose that he thought he had a chance of throwing Gully again, and was too damned conceited to escape gratefully. At any rate, he went in swinging both arms, and Jack rapped him over the heart and then cracked him a neat left on the head when he was off balance, which knocked him down.

"Time!" cries Spottswood, but Bismarck didn't understand, and bounding up he rushed at Gully, and with a lucky swing, caught him on the ear. Jack staggered, righted himself, and as if by instinct smacked two blows into Bismarck's belly. He went down, gasping and wheezing, and Perceval ran forward, saying that this was the end, he would have no more of it.

But the German, when he had straightened up, got his breath back and wiped the trickle of blood from his nose, was determined to go on. Gully said no, and Bismarck sneered at him, and the upshot was that they squared away again, and Gully knocked him off his feet. But still he got up, and now Gully was sickened, and refused to go on, and when he held out his hand Bismarck struck at him, at which Gully hammered him one in the face, which sent him headlong, and on the instant Gully was cursing himself for a badtempered fool, and calling for Spottswood to take off his gloves, and Tom was raising Bismarck off the floor, and a splendidly gory face he presented, too. And there was a tremendous hubbub, with drunk chaps crying "Shame!" and "Stop the fight!" and "Hit him again!" and Perceval almost crying with mortification, and Gully stamping off in a corner, swearing he hadn't meant to hurt the fellow, but what could he do? and Bismarck whitefaced, being helped into one of the chairs, where they sponged his face and gave him brandy. There were apologies, and protestations, and Gully and Bismarck finally shook hands, and Jack said he was ashamed of himself, as an Englishman, and would Bismarck forgive him? Bismarck, with his mouth puffed and split where Jack's last blow had caught him, and his fine aristocratic nose crusted with his own blood�I'd have given twenty guineas to see it properly smashed�said it was nothing, and he was obliged to Mr Gully for the instruction. He then added that he was capable of continuing, and that the fight had not been stopped at his request, at which old Jack took a big breath but said nothing, and the others cheered and Conyngham cried:

"Good for the Prussian! A dam' game bird he is! Hurrah!"

# ? Feb 8, 2020 22:53

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

Feels a bit weird to use a guy who actually existed as a character like this.

e: guess using the queen and Elphy didn't strike me as much as this but the depiction of the queen was a lot more perfunctory and bland and Elphy was being depicted doing stuff he roughly actually did and poor Otto is fully being turned into a character in the novel doing fully made up stuff?

# ? Feb 9, 2020 13:20

Hieronymous Alloy: Jan 30, 2009; Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!; Morbid Hound

aphid_licker posted:

Feels a bit weird to use a guy who actually existed as a character like this.

e: guess using the queen and Elphy didn't strike me as much as this but the depiction of the queen was a lot more perfunctory and bland and Elphy was being depicted doing stuff he roughly actually did and poor Otto is fully being turned into a character in the novel doing fully made up stuff?

Yeah that happens sometimes in historical fiction.

# ? Feb 9, 2020 14:03

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

Hieronymous Alloy posted:

Yeah that happens sometimes in historical fiction.

Has there been a famous case where there was a big discussion regarding what you should or should not be doing as a writer with people who actually existed? Not asking because I'm mad about Bismarck, just curious.

# ? Feb 9, 2020 14:17

90s Cringe Rock: Nov 29, 2006

Ah, rpf discourse.

# ? Feb 9, 2020 15:17

K Prime: Nov 4, 2009

Also, frankly, if you look at Bismarck's youth, this is definitely the sort of stupid bullshit he would have gotten into.

# ? Feb 9, 2020 20:39

feedmegin: Jul 30, 2008

aphid_licker posted:

Feels a bit weird to use a guy who actually existed as a character like this.

e: guess using the queen and Elphy didn't strike me as much as this but the depiction of the queen was a lot more perfunctory and bland and Elphy was being depicted doing stuff he roughly actually did and poor Otto is fully being turned into a character in the novel doing fully made up stuff?

Strap yourself in, it's kind of a Thing in the series. The woman in the carriage also actually existed btw.

# ? Feb 9, 2020 23:45

Kazzah: Jul 15, 2011; Formerly known as
Krazyface; Hair Elf

aphid_licker posted:

Feels a bit weird to use a guy who actually existed as a character like this.

e: guess using the queen and Elphy didn't strike me as much as this but the depiction of the queen was a lot more perfunctory and bland and Elphy was being depicted doing stuff he roughly actually did and poor Otto is fully being turned into a character in the novel doing fully made up stuff?

...what's your view on Abraham Lincoln?

# ? Feb 10, 2020 01:07

McTimmy: Feb 29, 2008

Krazyface posted:

...what's your view on Abraham Lincoln?

I think his fame as a vampire hunter is overrated.

# ? Feb 10, 2020 01:32

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

Okay �\_(ツ)_/�

# ? Feb 10, 2020 13:03

TheGreatEvilKing: Mar 28, 2016

Aren't these all Flashy's memoirs anyway? No reason to assume he's being one hundred percent honest.

# ? Feb 10, 2020 13:46

Runcible Cat: May 28, 2007; Ignoring this post

Royal Flash posted:

It has never been the same since; they tell me that young King Edward does what he can nowadays to lower the moral tone of the nation, but I doubt if he has the style for it. The man looks like a butcher.

Having now got to this point in my re-read I think it should have been pointed out at the time that Flashy and Speedicut's stylish lowering of the national moral tone that night involved trying to get a bus conductor to swear at them. It wasn't until they failed at that they went for cards, booze and ladies of negotiable virtue.

# ? Feb 10, 2020 23:18

Undead Hippo: Jun 2, 2013

TheGreatEvilKing posted:

Aren't these all Flashy's memoirs anyway? No reason to assume he's being one hundred percent honest.

That's a reading that goes at odds with the meta-text from Fraser.

It hasn't been commented on in the read through, but these books have quite discursive footnotes. These are an avenue to get into more detail on historical snippets, and to assure the reader that the more outlandish stuff has some manner of factual grounding. It also has several comments per book where Fraser essentially says, from the authorial voice, "He's a real rotter, but you can trust that he's telling the truth as he perceived it."

# ? Feb 11, 2020 00:51

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

Undead Hippo posted:

That's a reading that goes at odds with the meta-text from Fraser.

It hasn't been commented on in the read through, but these books have quite discursive footnotes. These are an avenue to get into more detail on historical snippets, and to assure the reader that the more outlandish stuff has some manner of factual grounding. It also has several comments per book where Fraser essentially says, from the authorial voice, "He's a real rotter, but you can trust that he's telling the truth as he perceived it."

At the start of Flashman, Flashy writes something to the effect he's going to "break the habit of eighty years" and be absolutely truthful. Of course, it's still Flashman we're talking about here...

After the boxing, he guests turn back to serious drinking, but Bismarck is well aware of who steered him into the fight in the first place and says as much to Flashy:

quote:

"Still I cannot place you, Captain. It is most intriguing; but it will come back, no doubt. However, I trust you were not disappointed with your evening's entertainment."

"It might have been better," says I, grinning at him.

"Even so, you contrived very well. I have you to thank for these," and he touched his lips and reddened nose. "One day I shall hold you to your promise, and show you the schlager play. I look forward to that; we shall see how much credit you obtain from my country's sport."

"More than you've got from mine, I hope," says I, laughing.

"Let us hope so," says he. "But I doubt it."

"Go to the devil," says I.

He turned away, chuckling to himself. "After you, I think."

--

We skip ahead to the next year, May 1843. Flashman is still idling in London waiting for Uncle Bindley to find him a military posting. In the meantime, the bloom is starting to wear off his Afghan heroics:

quote:

Yesterday's hero is soon forgotten, and while Elspeth and I had no lack of invitations during the season, it seemed to me that I wasn't quite so warmly feted as I had been. I wasn't invariably the centre of attraction any longer; some chaps even seemed to get testy if I mentioned Afghanistan, and at one assembly I heard a fellow say that he personally knew every damned stone of Piper's Fort by now, and could have conducted sightseers over the ruins.

Flashy is hanging around backstage in a Haymarket theater during rehearsal with some acquaintances and he spots a dancer who looks familiar � and then realizes it's Rosanna. One of the other idlers sees him looking and explains who she is:

quote:

"Why, she's his new danseuse, don't you know," says he. "It seems that opera hasn't been bringing in the tin lately, so Lumley imported her specially to dance between the acts. Thinks she'll make a great hit, and with those legs I'll be bound she will. See here." And he pushed a printed bill into my hand. It read:

HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE

Special Attraction

Mr Benjamin Lumley begs to announce
that between the acts of the Opera,
Donna Lola Montez, of the Teatro Real,
Seville, will have the honour to make
her first appearance in England in the
original Spanish dance, El Oleano.

She was born Eliza Rosanna Gilbert in Ireland, and even as a child was notorious for her strong-willed and unpredictable nature. After growing up in India when her soldier father was sent there, Eliza returned to England to complete her education and ended up eloping with a Lieutenant Thomas James at the age of 16. The marriage fell apart after a few years, and in 1843 Eliza decided to reinvent herself as "Lola Montez" and embarked on a career as a professional dancer.

Flashman's further investigation reveals that the theater owner has been heavily advertising his new �Spanish� dancer, and the critics are falling over themselves to praise her. And Flashman, of course, sees an opportunity for revenge.

quote:

At first I was just amused, but then it occurred to me that here was a heaven-sent opportunity to have my own back on her. If she was exposed, denounced for what she really was, that would put paid to her making a hit. It would also teach her not to throw piss-pots at me.

Flashman remembers that when he'd had his affair with Lola/Rosanna, she'd often talked about her other admirers, including one Lord Ranelagh, who had pursued her but gotten shot down. That, Flashman figures, makes Ranelagh a natural vehicle for his plan.

quote:

But all I'd heard suggested that he was a first-class swine, and just the man for me.

I hunted him out at his club, slid inside when the porter wasn't looking, and found him in the smoke-room. He was lying on a couch, puffing a cigar with his hat over his brows; I spoke right out.

"Lord Ranelagh," says I. "How are you? I'm Flashman."

He cocked an eye lazily under the brim of his hat, damned haughty.

"I'm certain I haven't had the honour," says he. "Good day to you."

"No, no, you remember me," says I. "Harry Flashman, you know."

He pushed his hat right back, and looked at me as if I was a toad.

"Oh," says he at length, with a sneer, "The Afghan warrior. Well, what is it?"

"I took the liberty of calling on your lordship," says I, "because I chanced to come across a mutual acquaintance."

"I cannot conceive that we have any," drawls he, "unless you happen to be related to one of my grooms."

I laughed merrily at this, although I felt like kicking his noble backside for him. But I needed him, you see, so I had to toad-eat him.

"Not bad, not bad," says I. "But this happens to be a lady. I'm sure she would be of interest to you."

"Are you a pimp, by any chance? If so�"

"No, my lord, I'm not," says I. "But I thought you might be diverted to hear of Mrs James �Mrs Elizabeth Rosanna James."

He frowned, and blew ash off his ridiculous beard, which covered half his shirt-front.

"What of her, and what the devil has she to do with you?"

"Why, nothing, my lord," says I. "But she happens to be taking the stage at Her Majesty's next week, masquerading as a famous Spanish dancer. Donna Lola Montez, she calls herself, and pretends to be from Seville. An impudent imposture."

He digested this, while I watched his nasty mind working.

"How d'ye know this?" says he.

"I've seen her at rehearsal," says I, "and there's no doubt about it�she's Rosanna James."

"And why should this be of interest to me?"

I shrugged at this, and he asked what my purpose was in telling him.

"Oh, I was sure you would wish to be at her first performance�to pay your respects to an old friend," says I. "And if so, I would solicit a place for myself in your party. I entertain the same affection for her that I'm sure your lordship does."

He considered me. "You're a singularly unpleasant creature," says he. "Why don't you expose her yourself, since that's obviously what you want?"

"Your lordship, I'm sure, has a style in these things. And you are well known, while I� ." I didn't want to be the centre of any scandal, although I wanted to have a front seat to see the fun.

"I can do your dirty work, eh? Well, well."

"You'll go?"

"That is no concern of yours," says he. "Good day."

"May I come?"

"My dear sir, I cannot prevent you going where you choose. But I forbid you absolutely to address me in public."

The Something Awful Forums > The Book Barn > Let's Read Flashman: �You're a singularly unpleasant creature.�

Thomas Jones, Viscount Ranelagh, was indeed a notorious womanizer despite looking like this, which only goes to show what money and a title can get you.

Selachian fucked around with this message at 07:02 on Feb 11, 2020

# ? Feb 11, 2020 01:04

Notahippie: Feb 4, 2003; Kids, it's not cool to have Shane MacGowan teeth

Selachian posted:

Thomas Jones, Viscount Ranelagh, was indeed a notorious womanizer despite looking like this, which only goes to show what money and a title can get you.

So that's what happened to Cameron from Ferris Bueller after the car incident.

# ? Feb 11, 2020 01:26

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

Poor Gilbert died of tertiary syphilis at 39 years old so Flashy seems to have dodged yet another bullet

# ? Feb 11, 2020 12:06

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

At the theater Monday night, Ranelagh and his hangers-on show up and take their box next to the stage, and Flashman snags a seat in the back of the box, remaining unobtrusive. The crowd is full of London's famous and powerful, most of them talking eagerly about Lola Montez.

The main show is �The Barber of Seville,� which Flashman, no connoisseur of the arts, finds boring; he spends most of the time thumbing through the ads in the back of the program. Finally, though, the first act ends and Lola comes out on stage.

quote:

I'm no authority on the dance; the performer, not the performance, is what I pay to see. But it seemed to me that she was damned good. Her striking beauty brought the pit up with a gasp: she was in a black bodice, cut so low that her breasts seemed to be in continual danger of popping out, and her tiny pink skirt showed off her legs to tremendous advantage. The slim white neck and shoulders, the coal-black hair, the gleaming eyes, the scarlet lips curled almost in contempt�the whole effect was startling and exotic. You know these throbbing, Spanish rhythms; well, she swayed and shook and stamped her way through them in splendid passion, and the audience sat spellbound. She was at once inviting and challenging; I doubt if there was any gesture or movement in the whole dance that a magistrate could have taken exception to, and yet the whole effect of it was sensual. It seemed to say "Bed me�if you dare", and every man in the place was taking her clothes off as he watched. What the women thought I can't imagine, but I guess they admired her almost as much as they disliked her.

When she finished abruptly, with a final smash of her foot and clash of cymbals from the orchestra, the theatre went wild. They cheered and stamped, and she stood for a moment still as a statue, staring proudly down at them, and then swept straight off the stage.

Lola performs again after the second act, and Ranelagh puts on a show of examining her closely through his opera glasses and looking puzzled. As she comes out for another dance after the third act, Ranelagh signals to his entourage to back him up.

quote:

She swirled through the dance, showing splendid amounts of her thighs, and gliding about sinuously while peeping over her fan, and at the finish there was a perfect torrent of clapping and shouting, with bouquets plopping down on to the stage and chaps standing up and clapping wildly. She smiled now, for the first time, bowing and blowing kisses before the curtain, and then suddenly, from our box there was a great hissing in unison, at which the applause faltered and died away. She turned to stare furiously in our direction, and as the hissing rose louder than ever there were angry shouts and cries from the rest of the theatre. People craned to see what the row was about, and then Ranelagh climbs to his feet, an imposing figure with his black beard and elegant togs, and cries out, very distinctly:

"Why, this is a proper swindle, ladies and gentlemen! That woman isn't Lola Montez. She's an Irish girl, Betsy James!"

There was a second's silence, and then a tremendous hullabaloo. The hissing started again, with cries of "Fraud!" and "Impostor!", the applause began and sputtered out, and angry cat-calls and boos sounded from the gallery. In a moment the whole mood of the theatre had changed; taking their cut from Ranelagh and his toadies, they began to howl her down; a few coins clattered on the stage; the conductor, gaping at the audience with his mouth open, suddenly flung down his baton and stamped out; and then the whole place was in a frenzy, stamping and calling for their money back, and shouting to her angrily to get back to the bogs of Donegal.

She was standing blazing with fury, and when she moved towards our box some of the chaps scrambled back to get out of harm's way. She stood a moment, her bosom heaving, her eyes sweeping the box�oh, yes, she recognised me all right, and when she began to curse at us I think it was me as much as Ranelagh she was getting at. Unfortunately, she swore in English, and the mob caught it and yelled louder than ever. Then she dashed down the bouquet she was holding, stamped on it, kicked it into the orchestra, and with one last damnation in our direction, ran from the stage as the curtain fell.

Being exposed by Ranelagh ended Lola's career as a dancer in London, although she claims in her autobiography (see below) that she had a difference of opinion with the director. She eventually departed for the Continent, where she seemed to naturally attract scandal. As Flashman writes:

quote:

First there was a report of her horse-whipping a policeman in Berlin; next she was dancing on the tables during a civic banquet in Bonn, to the outrage of Prince Albert and our Queen, who were on a State visit at the time. Then she was performing in Paris, and when the audience didn't take to her she stripped off her garters and drawers and flung them at the gallery; she started a riot in the streets of Warsaw, and when they tried to arrest her she held the peelers off with pistols. And of course there were scores of lovers, most of them highly-placed: the Viceroy of Poland, the Tsar of Russia (although I doubt if that's true), and Liszt the musician. She took up with him two or three times, and once to get rid of her he locked her in a hotel room and sneaked out by the back door.

Lola wrote her autobiography about 15 years later, a peculiar little book where she writes about herself in the third person and which, sadly, is rather evasive about the more lurid details of her tour of Europe.

# ? Feb 12, 2020 00:33

joat mon: Oct 15, 2009; I am the master of my lamp;
I am the captain of my tub.

aphid_licker posted:

Feels a bit weird to use a guy who actually existed as a character like this.

e: guess using the queen and Elphy didn't strike me as much as this but the depiction of the queen was a lot more perfunctory and bland and Elphy was being depicted doing stuff he roughly actually did and poor Otto is fully being turned into a character in the novel doing fully made up stuff?

Flashman is the Forrest Gump for the Trump Era.

# ? Feb 12, 2020 03:02

The Rat: Aug 29, 2004; You will find no one to help you here. Beth DuClare has been dissected and placed in cryonic storage.

joat mon posted:

Flashman is the Forrest Gump for the Trump Era.

Forrest Gump, but also evil and horny.

# ? Feb 12, 2020 03:18

Phy: Jun 27, 2008; Fun Shoe

I was gonna ask what kind of turd doesn't like Barber of Seville but on reflection my affection for it is almost entirely due to Bugs Bunny and I've never seen the whole thing...

# ? Feb 12, 2020 03:29

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

We now skip ahead a few years to 1847 (and, for now, skip over the events of two later novels, Flashman's Lady and Flashman and the Mountain of Light). Flashman is returning to London again, this time with some of his own money in hand and a pistol ball in his back, although he doesn't go into detail about how he got either. And when he returns home, he discovers to his horror that his in-laws, the Morrisons, have moved into his house. Flashman's father, who has been hitting the booze harder and harder as he grows older, is away in the country drying out.

The Morrisons are in London to hunt for husbands for Elspeth's other, less attractive, sisters, and Flashman dreads the prospect of having to help out. So when a strange letter arrives in the mail, he's thrilled for a chance to get away.

quote:

It was a fine, imposing cover�best quality paper, with a coat-of-arms on the back, which I have before me now. There was a shield, quartered red, blue, blue, and white, and in the quarters were a sword, a crowned lion, what looked like a fat whale, and a pink rose. Plainly it was either from someone of tremendous rank or the manufacturers of a new brand of treacle.

Inside there was a letter, and stamped at the top in flowery letters, surrounded by foliage full of pink-bottomed cupids, were the words "Gr�fin de Landsfeld".

And who the deuce, I wondered, might she be, and what did she want with me. The letter I reproduce exactly as it now lies in my hand, very worn and creased after sixty years, but still perfectly legible. It is, I think, quite the most remarkable communication I have ever received�even including the letter of thanks I got from Jefferson Davis and the reprieve I was given in Mexico. It said:

Most Honoured Sir, I write to you on instruction of Her Grace, the Countess de Landsfeld, of whom you had the honour to be acquainted in Londres some years ago. Her Grace commands me to inform you that she holds the warmest recollection of your friendship, and wishes to convey her strongest greetings on this occasion.

I made nothing of this. While I couldn't have recited the names of all the women I had known, I was pretty clear that there weren't any foreign countesses that had slipped my mind. It went on:

Sir, while Her Grace doubts not that your duties are of the most important and exacting nature, she trusts that you will have opportunity to consider the matter which, on her command, I am now to lay before you. She is confident that the ties of your former friendship, no less than the chivalrous nature of which she has such pleasing memory, will prevail upon you to assist her in a matter of the most extreme delicate.

Now he's certainly mad, this fellow, thinks I, or else he's got the wrong chap. I don't suppose there are three women in the world who ever thought me chivalrous, even on short acquaintance.

Her Grace therefore directs me to request that you will, with all speed after receiving this letter, make haste to present yourself to her in M�nchen, and there receive, from her own lips, particulars of the service which it is her dearest wish you will be obliged to render to her. She hastens to assure you that it will be of no least expense or hardship to you, but is of such particular nature that she feels that you, of all her many dear friends, are most suitable to its performing. She believes that such is the warmth of your heart that you will at once agree with her, and that the recollection of her friendship will bring you at once as an English gentleman is fitting.

Honoured Sir, in confidence that you will wish to assist Her Grace, I advise you that you should call on William Greig & Sons, attorneys, at their office in Wine Office Court, Londres, to receive instruction for your journey. They will pay �500 in gold for your travelling, etc. Further payments will be received as necessary.

Sir, Her Grace commands me to conclude with the assurance of her deepest friendship, and her anticipation of the satisfaction of seeing you once again.

Accept, dear Sir, etc., R. Lauengram, Chamberlain.

(In Zenda, Lauengram is one of �The Six,� henchmen of the main villain, Black Michael.)

Flashman assumes it's a joke at first, and then, after studying the letter further, concludes that it's far too elaborate for a joke. Out of curiosity, he goes to the lawyer's office and discovers that, yes, there is indeed �500 waiting for him if he agrees to go to Munich. He asks for more detail on who this Countess de Landsfeld is, and can you guess?

quote:

"Well," says he, giving me an odd look. "This is dam� most odd, you know. My dear sir, are you sure? Quite apart from this letter, which seems to suggest a most, ah � cordial regard, well, I had not thought there was a man in England who had not heard of the beauteous Countess of Landsfeld."

"Well, you're looking at one now," says I.

"I can't believe it," cries he. "What, never heard of the Queen of Hearts? La Belle Espagnole? The monarch, in all but name, of the Kingdom of Bavaria? My dear sir, all the world knows Donna Maria de�what is it again?" and he rummaged among some papers�"aye, here it is 'Donna Maria de Dolores de los Montez, Countess of Landsfeld'. Come, come, sir, surely now� ."

At first the name meant nothing, and then it broke on me.

"De los Montez? You don't mean Lola Montez?"

"But who else, sir? The close friend�indeed, some say more than friend�of King Ludwig. Why, the press is never without some fresh sensation about her, some new scandal �" and he went on, chattering and smirking, but I never heeded him. My head was in a spin. Lola Montez, my Rosanna�a Countess, a monarch in all but name, a royal mistress by the sound of it. And she was writing to me, offering me hard cash�plainly I needed more information.

The lawyer has no idea what Lola might want, and Flashy isn't quite vain enough to believe that she just wants to renew acquaintances when she's the mistress of a king (and, according to the lawyer, has a �picked bodyguard of splendid young men�). But there's the money, and the chance to get away from the Morrisons � Flashman decides to accept the offer, figuring he can always run if there's any sign of a catch.

In the real world, Lola did become the mistress of King Ludwig I of Bavaria in 1846 (supposedly, when they met he asked her if her breasts were real, and she ripped off her top to show him). Ludwig was 61 and Lola was 28 at the time. He installed her in a palace and gave her the title of the Countess of Landsfeld and a 20,000-florin pension, and she lived a lavish lifestyle and was extremely influential in Ludwig's decisions � which didn't endear her much to the people of Bavaria. All of Ludwig's ministers resigned in protest at her meddling in politics and her outrageous demands, but he just installed new ones � possibly chosen by Lola herself. (And no, he wasn't the famous "Mad King Ludwig" -- that was his grandson, Ludwig II.)

# ? Feb 13, 2020 00:44

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

Flashman prepares for his trip to Germany, over the Morrisons' objections.

quote:

Campaigning teaches you to travel light, and a couple of valises did my turn. I took my old Cherrypicker uniform�the smartest turnout any soldier ever had anywhere�because I felt it would be useful to cut a dash, but for the rest I stuck to necessaries. Among these, after some deliberation, I included the duelling pistols that a gunsmith had presented to me after the Bernier affair. They were beautiful weapons, accurate enough for the most fastidious marksman, and in those days when revolving pistols were still crude experimental toys, the last word in hand guns.

The 11th Hussars' "Cherrypicker" uniform, with bright red pants and tons of gold braid, was definitely designed more for the parade ground than the battlefield.

Along with the pistols, Flashman also packs a sailor's knife. He also finds a German waiter who wants to go home, and offers to pay his way if he'll teach Flashman German on the trip. So they travel to Munich via Paris, and would you like to hear Harry Flashman's opinion of Europe?

quote:

We did not hurry on the journey, which was by way of Paris, a city I had often wanted to visit, having heard that debauchery there was a fine art. I was disappointed: whores are whores the world over, and the Parisian ones are no different from any other. And French men make me sick; always have done. I'm degenerate, but they are dirty with it. Not only in the physical sense, either; they have greasy minds. Other foreigners may have garlic on their breaths, but the Frogs have it on their thoughts as well.

The Germans are different altogether. If I wasn't an Englishman, I would want to be a German. They say what they think, which isn't much as a rule, and they are admirably well ordered. Everyone in Germany knows his place and stays in it, and grovels to those above him, which makes it an excellent country for gentlemen and bullies, In England, even in my young day, if you took liberties with a working man you would be as likely as not to get a fist in your face, but the lower-class Germans were as docile as n----s with white skins. The whole country is splendidly disciplined and organised, and with all their docility the inhabitants are still among the finest soldiers and workers on earth�as my old friend Bismarck has shown. The basis of all this, of course, is stupidity, which you must have in people before you can make them fight or work successfully. Well, the Germans will trouble the world yet, but since they are closer to us than anyone else, we may live to profit by it.

Yes, well.

Rather than go straight to Lola's palace, Flashman decides to wander around Munich's cafes and beer gardens for a while and hear what people are saying about her. Lola, it seems, has Bavaria's political establishment under her thumb. Some of the citizens disapprove of her, others are firmly supportive, but in the end, Ludwig is crazy about her and that's what counts. After a few days, Flashman finally sends a note to Lauengram saying he's in the city and ready to meet with Lola.

quote:

Then I wandered over to the Residenz Palace, and looked at Lola's portrait in the public gallery�that "Gallery of Beauties" in which Ludwig had assembled pictures of the loveliest women of his day. There were princesses, countesses, actresses, and the daughter of the Munich town-crier, among others, and Lola looking unusually nun-like in a black dress and wearing a come-to-Jesus expression.

Underneath it was inscribed a verse written by the king, who was given to poetry, which finished up:

Oh, soft and beauteous as a deer
Art thou, of Andalusian race!

Here's the portrait in question. The �Gallery of Beauties� is still there, by the way, in case you ever want to check out the royal spank bank.

After a few days of cooling his heels, Flashman is starting to get impatient, until he finally gets a response to his note:

quote:

I was finishing breakfast in my room, still in my dressing-gown, when there was a great flurry in the passage, and a lackey came to announce the arrival of the Freiherr von Starnberg, whoever he might be. There was much clashing and stamping, two cuirassiers in full fig appeared behind the lackey and stationed themselves like statues on either side of my doorway, and then in between them strolled the man himself, a gay young spark who greeted me with a flashing smile and outstretched hand.

"Herr Rittmeister Flashman?" says he. "My privilege to welcome you to Bavaria. Starnberg, very much at your service." And he clicked his heels, bowing. "You'll forgive my French, but it's better than my English."

"Better than my German, at any rate," says I, taking stock of him. He was about twenty, of middle height and very slender, with a clean-cut, handsome face, brown curls, and the wisp of a moustache on his upper lip. A very cool, jaunty gentleman, clad in the tight tunic and breeches of what I took to be a hussar regiment, for he had a dolman over his shoulder and a light sabre trailing at his hip. He was sizing me up at the same time.

"Dragoon?" says he.

"No, hussar."

"English light cavalry mounts must be infernally strong, then," says he, coolly. "Well, no matter. Forgive my professional interest. Have I interrupted your breakfast?"

(In the context of military uniforms, a dolman is a short, usually about hip-length, cape worn slung over one shoulder.)

Selachian fucked around with this message at 06:52 on Feb 14, 2020

# ? Feb 14, 2020 06:46

PoptartsNinja: May 9, 2008; He is still almost definitely not a spy; Soiled Meat

Selachian posted:

The �Gallery of Beauties� is still there, by the way, in case you ever want to check out the royal spank bank.

I like how nearly every one of them looks irritated at having to have their portrait done.

# ? Feb 14, 2020 13:33

Darth Walrus: Feb 13, 2012

PoptartsNinja posted:

I like how nearly every one of them looks irritated at having to have their portrait done.

Lady Digby is absolutely done with this poo poo.

# ? Feb 14, 2020 13:37

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

Did ze Freiherr just call Flashy fat?

# ? Feb 14, 2020 13:52

Darth Walrus: Feb 13, 2012

aphid_licker posted:

Did ze Freiherr just call Flashy fat?

Just big, I think. Because he is. It's his biggest advantage when he can't avoid a fight.

# ? Feb 14, 2020 16:28

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

PoptartsNinja posted:

I like how nearly every one of them looks irritated at having to have their portrait done.

Skimming through them, it's also fairly obvious that Ludwig had a thing for brunettes with long noses and bare shoulders.

# ? Feb 14, 2020 18:45

Nckdictator: Sep 8, 2006; Just..someone

Krazyface posted:

...what's your view on Abraham Lincoln?

I like how Lincoln instantly sees through Flash�s bullshit

# ? Feb 14, 2020 20:31

Notahippie: Feb 4, 2003; Kids, it's not cool to have Shane MacGowan teeth

Nckdictator posted:

I like how Lincoln instantly sees through Flash�s bullshit

It's always a little awkward when historical fiction puts real people into it, but Fraser's enough of a historian that his characterization of them usually seems to just amplify whatever the general judgment of history is.

# ? Feb 14, 2020 23:41

Selachian: Oct 9, 2012

Flashman dresses in his �Cherrypicker� uniform and joins Starnberg for the trip to Lola's palace. He notes as he does so that Starnberg, for all his youth and cockiness, has an air of being genuinely tough.

Lola's palace is small, as palaces go, but richly furnished. There's a crowd of dignitaries waiting for a chance to see her as Starnberg escorts Flashman in, and it's clear that Lola is doing quite well for herself. As they arrive, they see Lola ejecting a priest from her room (with the help of some thrown crockery) for telling her that the local Catholic hierarchy won't provide her with a private chapel and confessor � if nothing else, she's not actually Catholic, which Lola dismisses as a trivial detail.

quote:

"Please, madame, oh, please!" The little fellow was on the verge of tears. "Why do you abuse me so? It is not my fault. Dr Windischmann objects only to the suggestion of a private chapel and confessor. He says� ."

�Well, what does he say?"

The little man hesitated. "He says," he gulped, "he says that there is a public confessional at N�tre-Dame, and you can always go there when you want to accuse yourself of any of the innumerable sins you have committed." His voice went up to a squeal. "His words, madame! Not mine! Oh, God have mercy!"

As she took one furious step forward he turned and ran for his life past us, his hands over his ears, and we heard his feet clatter on the stairs. Lola stamped her foot, and shouted after him, "Damned papist hypocrite!", and at this the sycophantic crowd in the antechamber broke out in a chorus of sympathy and reproach.

"Jesuit impertinence!"

"Intolerable affront!"

"Scandalous insolence!"

"Silly old bastard." (This was Starnberg's contribution.)

"Impossible arrogance of these prelates," says a stout, florid man near me.

"I'm Church of England myself," says I.

Hearing Flashman's voice, Lola greets him warmly and tells the gathering that he was her friend when she was a �poor little nobody� in England, and praises Flashman's military heroism, at which Flashman goes into his familiar aw-shucks-no-big-deal act.

quote:

"What's this very delicate matter that your chamberlain talked about?"

"Oh, that." She put on a coy look. "That can wait a little. You must know I have a new motto since I came to Bavaria: 'pleasure before business'." She gave me a sleepy look from beneath those glorious black lashes that made by heart skip a little. "You wouldn't be so ungallant as to hurry me, would you, Harry?"

"Not where business is concerned," says I, leering again. "Pleasure's another matter."

"Wicked," she says, smiling lazily, like a sleek black cat. "Wicked, wicked, wicked."

It is remarkable what fatuities you can exchange with a beautiful woman. I can think shame when I consider the way I sat babbling with Lola on that couch; I would ask you only to remember that she was as practised a seductress as ever wore out bed linen, and just to be beside her, even in a room full of people, was in itself intoxicating. She was overpowering, like some rich tropical flower, and she could draw a man like a magnet. The same Dr Windischmann, Vicar-General, whose name she had been taking in vain so recently, once said that there was not even a priest in his charge who could have been trusted with her. Liszt put it more bluntly and accurately when he observed to me: "As soon as you meet Lola, your mind leaps into bed."

Lola's entourage, including Starnberg and Flashy, trails after her to see a troop of cuirassiers on parade, then to walk her dogs, and then for a music and poetry recital:

quote:

The centre of it was a long-jawed, tough-looking fellow whose name meant nothing to me at the time; he talked interminably, about music and liberal politics, and everyone lionised him sickeningly, even Lola. When we went into an adjoining room for a buffet� "erfrischung" as the Germans call it�she introduced him to me as Herr Wagner, but the only conversation we had was when I passed him the ginger and he said "danke". (I've dined out on that incident since, by the way, which shows how ridiculous people can be where celebrities are concerned. Of course, I usually expand the story, and let on that I told him that "Drink, puppy, drink" and "The British Grenadiers" were better music than any damned opera, but only because that is the sort of exaggeration that goes well at dinner parties, and suits my popular character.)

And all through this, Flashman is suffering terrible boredom and increasingly desperate to get Lola alone. As dinner is called, Flashy, despite his initial impulse to be cautious, starts drinking heavily, until he's completely blasted on top of being horny. Late in the evening, he approaches Lola to drunkenly suggest they just go to bed. And wonder of wonders, she agrees and leads him into a darkened chamber where he flops on a couch. She tells him to wait a moment, and the next thing Flashy knows a woman is climbing all over him. Flashman's exploring hands tell him, however, this isn't Lola, and he realizes it's one of her followers, a chubby baroness who's been lustfully eyeing him all day.

quote:

I tried to shove her off, but she was too heavy; she clung to me like a leech, murmuring endearments in German, and pushing me back on the couch.

"Go away, you fat slut," says I, heaving at her. "Gehen Sie weg, dammit. Don't want you; want Lola."

I might as well have tried to move St Paul's; she was all over me, trying to kiss me, and succeeding, her fat face against mine. I cursed and struggled, and she giggled idiotically and began clawing at my breeches.

"No, you don't," says I, seizing her wrist, but I was too tipsy to be able to defend myself properly, or else she was strong for all her blubber. She pinned me down, calling me her duckling, of all things, and her chicken, and then before I knew it she had suddenly hauled me upright and had my fine Cherrypicker pants round my knees, and was squirming her fat backside against me.

"Oh, eine hammelkeule!" she squeaked. "Kolossal!"

No woman does that to me twice; I'm too susceptible. I seized handfuls of her and began thrusting away. She was not Lola, perhaps, but she was there, and I was still too foxed and too randy to be choosy. I buried my face in the blonde curls at the nape of her neck, and she squealed and plunged in excitement. And I was just settling to work in earnest when there was a rattle at the door handle, the door opened, and suddenly there were men in the room.

(Eine Hammelkeule = a leg of mutton. This is one of a few occasional hints that our hero is generously endowed.)

# ? Feb 15, 2020 00:47

TheGreatEvilKing: Mar 28, 2016

Flashy never learns, does he?

# ? Feb 15, 2020 17:01

aphid_licker: Jan 7, 2009

It's probably not what happened (?) but if turns out that all that was going on is that Lola spent 500 poonds of her noble lover's money to set up Flashy to look like a buffoon in front of all of Bavaria to get back at him that would be kinda awesome.

# ? Feb 15, 2020 18:58

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? Apr 25, 2024 23:31

Pistol_Pete: Sep 15, 2007; Oven Wrangler

If only it was that lol.

# ? Feb 15, 2020 20:14

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > A Singularly Unpleasant Creature: Let's Read Flashman!

«‹›34 »