Flashman

This first Flashman novel shouldn't really succeed, but it does. The protagonist, Harry Flashman, is a sexist, racist, selfish, cowardly charlatan who nevertheless always seems to land on his feet. It is quite remarkable how George MacDonald Fraser, the author, manages to write Flashy out of such scrapes - not only intact but better off than when he went in. The whole joke is that no matter how Flashman acts, he emerges to be thought of as a hero and gentleman, with fame, honour and distinction - all quite unworthily acquired." (pg. 113).

Flash is very much an anti-hero, and when encountering each sexist or racist remark or act, I felt a bit of unease and a sense that I shouldn't be enjoying this book quite so much as I was. But somehow show more - and it is very, very hard to explain - I loved every minute of it. For sure, Flashman at times goes far, far beyond what, for other characters in other books, would be the moral event horizon. (For example, he whips his Indian servants, spears a wretched dog with a lance and, at one point, rapes an Afghan woman). I feel obliged to point this out to prospective readers as many will feel they cannot abide by this sort of behaviour. To be honest, I am surprised that I was able to not only abide it but love the book. It's impossible to explain to one who has not read the book, but it's an absolute riot to read and Flashman an engrossing character.

For all his faults, Flash is a man who recognises an opportunity and has the ability to turn it to his advantage. He recognises that one has to swim with the tide and "catch on to whatever offers. You only go by once." (pg. 294). He is determined, in his way, to make a reputation for himself, and can put in the hard yards when he wants to. And when opportunity presents, he wastes no time in taking "fortune by the foreskin", as he so colourfully puts it (pg. 74). He is unrepentant about his behaviour, noting that it how others perceive you that really matters if you want to get on in life: "Give me the shadow every time, and you can keep the substance..." (pg. 256). Perhaps this is why I liked the book and the character so much; he recognises the reality of life and reorients himself to take full advantage. He's a compelling character, even though every bone in your body tells you he's a bad egg.

It's a hilarious book, but not laugh-a-minute stuff. In fact, for much of the second half of the book, it is rather distressing to read. Not only does Flash suffer under a horrific torture, but the whole story of the retreat from Kabul (a real historical event, and one of the most cack-handed campaigns in British military history) is told straight. Indeed, this was one of the most surprising things about Flashman; it was actually really good historical fiction, with a good recreation of the First Anglo-Afghan War and on-the-money depictions of the main historical figures involved. In fact, all of the characters - whether wholly fictional or based on real-life figures - are well-drawn; and even for all of Flashman's womanising each of the women he 'tumbles' with are memorable in their different ways.

I've not really been able to say everything I wanted to say about Flashman and I am conscious of the fact that I can't really do the book justice. It's the first time where words have failed me and I've genuinely felt unable to capture my opinions on a book. In fact, based on my review some may even be put off it. I hope this is not the case as it is a truly fantastic read, and the subsequent Flashman books, starting with Royal Flash, will be high on my reading list." show less

This is a tough one.

The protagonist - Flashman - is nearly a lovable rogue; always looking for an easy life, full of charm, disarming honesty and a sardonic wit, a love of booze and women. He is written compellingly, with flair and pace - always enjoyable. Indeed, the writing is fantastic throughout - an easy, accessible read but by no means simplistic (and the narration on Audible couldn't be more perfect, a wonderful mix of suave, slightly rah-rah and debonair. Very sexy).

But the problem is - he's more than a cad and a lovable rogue. He's actually truly terrible - shamelessly so, and not even what one might be bold enough to write off as 'product of his times' bad (i.e racism, mysogyny). No, his wrongness is absolute. His show more transgressions (spoiler: repeated rape being the main one, manipulation and selling people out to their deaths to save his own skin being others) are so severe that in a normal world you would condemn a person for them absolutely.

And so that makes it very confusing when as a reader you still find him incredibly compelling, and are almost nearly rooting for him. Of course I don't need my protogonists to be black and white, nuance is great, but his terribleness feels uncomfortable.

Also just a solid three stars because ultimate, even though the writing has flair, it is really just screwed this girl, clawed my way of this escapade, narrowly dodged death, screwed another girl, rinse and repeat. I think you'd have to have an additional genuine interest in the historical nature of the wars involved (of which I understand Fraser is very accurate about) to endure lots and lots of it. Though frustratingly, the back-at-home drama he ends oh hhas made me slitly ibclined toh readh hthe next one, even though I'd been convinced for 90% of the book I wouldn't. Cheap trick.

A friend bet me a bottle of Macallan that I'd 'like' it. We were a little hazy on details of what that meant, but I think a four, coupled with a vague desire to read the next, would count as liking it - so maybe it's my desperation for the whisky that made me score it a 3. 3.5 maybe? (edit: originally, I've capitulated to a 4 because it's really stuck with me). show less

This is a sharp, brilliant, and painful satire of colonialist Britain. The depictions of casual brutality of the British towards the Indians and Afghans make it hard to read at times, but the story told from the point of view of an unapologetic British thug from the upper-class sends up all the supposed virtues of the British Empire - ennoblement of the "savages," military honor, and bravery.

A mix of Kipling and Vonnegut, this intriguing novel is not for the woke. I didn't mind all the white shoulders and red mouths, but this otherwise well-crafted novel would have earned a higher rating from me if there was less rape, torture, and the use of the N word. I admired the novels in a lot of way, but it also made me sort of nauseous. YMMV.

This is a man who could single-handedly give Empire a bad name. Wildly politically incorrect, this is the first in the series of the adventures of Flashman, the naughty nemesis of Tom Brown's School Days. A cad's cad, he is the epitome of the worst qualities of wealth, class and military elitism. The historical accuracy of Flashman's observations in 1840s Afghanistan reveal that not much has changed even today. Perhaps if western leaders had read Flashman they might have had second thoughts about treading the same ground. Wickedly funny despite the deadly seriousness of the consequences, Flashy's advice would have been to run away as fast as you can.

Some time ago Kingsley Amis recommended 'Flashman' as a 'good read' on a BBC radio programme so I decided to give this a try. Although not initially persuaded, it was not long before I agreed with him. It is an old-fashioned adventure tale but with some interesting twists.

The main twist is that it is the historical memoir of the bully in 'Tom Brown's Schooldays', a coward and a cad with a totally cynical attitude to the world and an attitude to women and to people with a browner shade of skin than his that is wholly reprehensible (certainly today).

Some have taken 'Flashman' to be some kind of anti-imperialist tract but the author denies it. A bit of inquiry into the man (a journalist of the old school in whom cynicism might be show more professionally baked in) and into his times suggest that little could be more ridiculous than such a claim.

The book appeared in 1969. The author was born in 1925 (and Kingsley Amis in 1922) so what we are seeing is the same sort of response to an older generation that inspired Lytton Strachey to have a go at the Victorians in 1918. One of Strachey's four targets was, of course, Thomas Arnold.

Whereas immediately after the First World War, Strachey and the Bloomsbury mob were unravelling the reputations of actual Victorians, the 1960s was seeing an unravelling of the culture they had left behind. This still dominated middle class education in the 1940s and 1950s.

I went to a grammar school in the late 1960s that held to the forms that Arnold at Rugby would have recognised until there was an almost overnight 'middle class' cultural revolution that turned things around into 'modernity' conceptually and formally by the mid-1970s.

Fraser is just having fun in this context. His cynical journalistic eye and love of history combine with a memory of imperial writing for boys, like that of Henty and perhaps Haggard, in order to dig Flashman out of Thomas Hughes' fictional Rugby to become an imperial anti-hero.

He does this superbly. Fraser writes fluidly and flawlessly in his attempt to recreate the actuality of Victorian imperial Britain and (in this particular book) the Raj. He then slots in this lucky monster who ends up a hero despite being an unpleasant coward.

The message (although this is not a novel of messages) is that the bully and the coward can thrive in any system because systems rarely ask difficult questions. The outrageous quick-witted liar (Flashman is highly intelligent) can always play to the expectations of those around him.

In that sense, although there is luck in the game (truly heroic awkward witnesses do not remain to speak of Flashman's cowardice because, being heroic, they have a tendency to die off), Flashman's sociopathic intelligence also makes his luck for him

As the character unfolded, he brought to mind more than one person I have met in corporate and political life whose ability to survive and rise would seem puzzling to anyone who bothers to think about it. They had the qualities that Flashman had.

I have also met many heroic souls who actually did the work or had the ideas or maintained a moral stance but who were thrown to the way side and even had their lives ruined as some Flashman stepped over their heroic bodies. The Labour Party is riddled with both types.

Fraser's genius lies in his research. The idea that the aged Flashman would, decades later, expose his crimes in a memoir, as a final tweak of Victorian society's nose during its last decade, may not be wholly credible. Everything else appears to be. The book even has 'notes' to explain historical points.

In this case, military life in the very early years of Victoria and the appalling farrago that was the British withdrawal from Afghanistan in 1842 are drawn with believable clarity as are pen portraits of figures like the idiotic Lord Cardigan, the Duke of Wellington or Thomas Babington Macauley.

At one point late in the novel, Fraser has fun with Macauley's poem about Horatius defending the bridge to show us how Victorian society created a problem for itself with its own mythos. In contrast we have the common sense military attitude of the great Duke of Wellington.

Wellington is not central to the story but he might be to an understanding where the Empire was to go wrong later. For all his faults, Fraser's Wellington is a practical man in a world of incompetent aristocrats and idealistic prigs. You suspect the Duke would eventually have seen through Flashy.

The point here is that Fraser is never snide about the Victorians. He tells it like it is. The issue is not Victorian decency or indecency, competence or incompetence, pomposity or heroic action at the individual level but one of social roles that hold things together yet let Flashman through the cracks.

Indeed, where the historical record shows an intelligent or competent officer or administrator, Fraser will show that man to be intelligent or competent in his story. His characters are real people, not stereotypes, and, with one or two exceptions, this applies to the Afghans he portrays.

The commitment to historical accuracy is so great that the novel stands as an imaginative and true account of the First Afghan War except, of course, whenever Flashman himself does or does not do something. The tropes of late (rather than early) Victorian adventure literature then kick in.

Of course, we are appalled by Flashman even as we engage with his rascality and find ourselves rather admiring of his ability to come out on top, more often by luck than judgement. We stand embarrassed by our own appreciation of his account of the social cant that allows him to flourish.

It is one of a series of books, eventually amounting to twelve novels that can be read chronologically as a form of fictional autobiography. I am tempted to proceed to the next one eventually. In the meantime, I can confirm that Amis was right - it is a very good read. show less

Superb historical fiction, all the more notable for having one of the all-time antiheroes as its protagonist. Fast-paced, well-plotted, bitterly cynical, funny, and full of well-researched historical detail, you almost couldn't ask for a better pulp experience. It was written as the memoirs of Harry Flashman, a spoiled rich kid bully with a great talent for getting out of jams and having his character flaws interpreted as virtues, who's reluctantly forced into the army and spends the rest of the book shirking every responsibility he can en route to completely undeserved glory and fame thanks to the public's need for a hero. He's a total scumbag on basically every page (lazy, cowardly, misogynistic, greedy, lecherous, racist, show more untrustworthy, etc), and half of the time you're actually pulling for the Plot Armor protecting him to let up and give him what he deserves (in addition to his constant good luck at small things, there's more than one "this is the end, there's no possible way Flashman will get out of this one!" cliffhangers resolved neatly by a timely deus ex machina or fade to black), yet he seems to be the only one capable of understanding the sheer folly of the British experience in the First Anglo-Afghan War, and of imperialism/colonialism more generally.

It's a really neat trick: Flashman's interior monologue is unfailingly unpleasant, but his universal cynicism doesn't spare himself or his fellow British as they arrogantly bumble themselves into a hostile occupation of an unwilling country, pointlessly disrupting its politics and eventually getting over 15,000 soldiers and civilians massacred in the the unmitigated disaster of the 1842 retreat from Kabul. Along the way, Flashman's only principle is to look out for #1, as he advises the reader to do as well, and by the end of this sarcastic demolition of the hero myth, where he's given a visit with the Queen and celebration as a hero, universally lauded by a public ignorant of the real truth, you're forced to admit that he has a point: everyone else in this book is awful too. Don't let the vintage jingoism distract you from a surprisingly fun, insightful, and historically rich adventure story. Better yet, it's the first of a dozen. show less