Showing posts with label aristocracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aristocracy. Show all posts

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

All belly and beard



Admiral Tegethoff, a bluff old sport, all belly and beard, munched her knuckles and gave glad welcome to the begrimed and ragged peon whom she presented as the hoch und wohlgeboren Sir Harry Flashman, former aide, champion, and all-round hero of the campaign . . .



Flashman on the March, p.5, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Titled fury



      Talk about a woman scorned; their fury ain’t in it with a Scotch Baronet’s wounded self-esteem.



Flashman and the Tiger, p.240, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Tuesday, 15 May 2012

We ain’t top-drawer



      She’s God’s own original snob, my little Paisley princess — as though her mill-owning father had been a whit better than the Wilsons. But the little skinflint had collared a peerage in his declining years, you see, and she seemed to think that his coronet and cash, with my V.C. and military rank, to say nothing of her own occasional intimacy with the Queen, raised us above the common herd. Which I guess they did, in an odd way — or if not above, apart at least. We ain’t top-drawer, but there’s no denying we’re different.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.229, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Friday, 13 April 2012

This means nothing to me



 . . . the whole quarter reeked of money, privilege, and luxury in doubtful taste. It was reckoned to be the richest Upper Ten outside London, and the two hundred families of princes, counts, and assorted titled trash spent ten million quid among ’em per annum, which ain’t bad for gaslight and groceries. They spent more, ate more, drank more, danced more, and fornicated more than any other capital on earth (and that's Fetridge* talking, not me) . . .

*Footnote 23. W. Pembroke Fetridge was the author of The American Traveller's Guide: Harper's Handbook for Travellers in Europe, which first appeared in 1862. Flashman probably had the 1871 edition.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.185, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 12 April 2012

A sneer or a sniff



. . . and this I'll say for them, there wasn't a sneer or a sniff at my tweeds, such as you'd get from Frogs or Dagoes or our own reptilia; Vienna wasn't only polite, it was downright friendly and hospitable, putting a glass in my hand, coaxing me to the buffet, inquiring after my journey, asking how long I'd been in town . . .


Flashman and the Tiger, p.186, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Friday, 9 March 2012

Rendered maudlin



She was anxious for me, you see, the besotted little aristo — it's remarkable how even the most worldly of women can be rendered maudlin by Adam's arsenal.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.115, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Monday, 5 March 2012

A consoling hand



...Prussians, you know, care not two damns about their inferiors. Neither do I, but I know it's good business to pretend that I do, and looked in on Beefy before retiring to lay a consoling hand upon his thick skull; he just gaped like a ruptured bullock.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.113, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Monday, 13 February 2012

Surveying the distance



She was in profile, surveying the distance with a chilling contempt which sat perfectly on a rather horsey face with a curved high-bridged nose. Minor Mittel European royalty to the life, with the same stench-in-the-nostrils look...


Flashman and the Tiger, p.50, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.



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Thursday, 12 January 2012

Never mind the Moulin Rouge



My advice to young chaps is to never mind the Moulin Rouge and Pigalle, but make for some diplomatic mĂŞlĂ©e on the Rue de Lisbonne, catch the eye of a well-fleshed countess, and ere the night’s out you’ll have learned something you won’t want to tell your grandchildren.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.16, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Nothing like the job





…kings and chancellors confided in him, empresses and grand duchesses whispered him their secrets, prime ministers and ambassadors sought his advice, and while he was up to every smoky dodge in his hunt for news, he never broke a pledge or betrayed a confidence — or so everyone said, Blowitz loudest of all. I guess his appearance helped, for he was nothing like the job at all, being a five-foot butterball with a beaming baby face behind a mighty moustache, innocent blue eyes, bald head, and frightful whiskers a foot long…

Flashman and the Tiger, p.14, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Tuesday, 20 July 2010

The leading aristocrats



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.


Flashman's Lady, p.236, Pan edition, 1979.



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Friday, 1 January 2010

The effects of English aristocracy on India



It’s different now, of course; since it became a safe place many of our best and most highly-connected people have let the light of their counternances shine on India, with the results you might expect – prices have gone up, service has gone down, and the women have got the clap.



Flashman in the Great Game, p.58, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 1 September 2009

Cardinal folly



Master Ignatieff might be a clever and devilish dangerous man, but he had at least one of the besetting weaknesses of youth: he was as vain as an Etonian duke, and it led him to commit the cardinal folly in a diplomatic man. He talked too much.



Flashman at the Charge, p.207, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Monday, 10 August 2009

One word



He was the kind who knew exactly what was what, where everything was, and precisely who was who – especially himself. He was probably a devil with women, admired by his superiors, hated by his rivals, and abjectly feared by his subordinates. One word summed him up: bastard.



Flashman at the Charge, p.10, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 4 August 2009

A cheery place



Oh, it was a cheery place alright, this great empire of Russia as I first saw it in the autumn of ’54 – a great ill-worked wilderness ruled by a small landed aristocracy with their feet on the necks of a huge human-animal population, with Cossack devils keeping order when required.





Flashman at the Charge, p.126, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Thursday, 7 May 2009

Pink-cheeked viscounts



Oh, I had my fighting reputation, but what’s that, when London is bursting with pink-cheeked viscounts with cleft-palates and long pedigrees?



Flashman at the Charge, p.29, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Monday, 4 May 2009

Ain't such a thing



She, the little ninny, was all for it, giving him a dazzling smile and protesting he was too, too kind – this aged satyr who was old enough to be her father and had vice leering out of every wrinkle in his face. Of course, where climbing little snobs like Elspeth are concerned, there ain’t such a thing as an ugly peer of realm…



Flashman at the Charge, p.27, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 28 April 2009

The greatest bore



…so I joined the Board of Ordnance. And it was the greatest bore, for his lordship proved to be one of those meddling fools who insist on taking an interest in the work of committees to which they are appointed – as if a lord is ever expected to do anything but lend the light of his countenance and his title.



Flashman at the Charge, p.16, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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