The American Spectator

It’s here! It’s here, I tell you! Bwahahahahahahah. I shall covet it, devour it, and place it above all things (well, above almost all things) while I do. It’s the best news of the week, nay, of the year. Not the Alito nom, the coming defeat of Hillary, or even the demise of the UN that could bestir me to such joy. It’s Flashman on the March, the new novel by George MacDonald Fraser, the novelist of all novelists.

For those of you who are not already Flashmaniacs, suffice it to say that the Flashman novels are the adventures of the most cowardly rogue to ever take the king’s shilling (in this case Queen Victoria’s). Flashy is the man for whom the term “womanizer” was invented, a faux-hero to beat all such, who always does his level best to flee and despite everything he can do to duck and cover, ends up in the most horrific battles and covered with undeserved glory. He’s the protagonist of the most readable and enjoyable of all historical novels. So if I’m not terribly communicative this weekend, rest easy. Flashy is taking me into 1868 Abyssinia, and there’s no time to waste. Walk march, trot. Gallop!