Showing posts with label humbug. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humbug. Show all posts

Thursday, 26 January 2012

Jezebel with a sassy twinkle



I liked her style: no humbug, just Jezebel with a sassy twinkle and a fifth-form fringe, lightly touched by the crazy gods — as many politicals are; Georgie Broadfoot was daft as a brush.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.34, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 22 December 2011

His matchless mixture



Ironic, ain’t it? He’d failed . . . and found his triumph. Wounded and doomed he was a man uplifted, and he laid it off to them with his matchless mixture of deep sincerity and sheer damned humbug.



Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.340, Harper Collins, 1995.


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Tuesday, 23 December 2008

William Wilberforce and pious humbug



Why my pious acquaintances won’t believe this [African involvement in ths slave trade], I can’t fathom. They enslaved their own kind, in mills and factories and mines, and made ‘em live in kennels that an Alabama planter wouldn’t have dreamed of putting a black into. Aye, and our dear old dead Sir William Wilberforce cheered ‘em on, too – weeping his pious old eyes out over niggers* he had never seen, and damning the soul of anyone who suggested it was a bit hard to make white infants pull coal sledges for 12 hours a day. Of course he knew where his living came from. My point is; if he and his kind did it to their people, why should they suppose the black rulers were any different where their kinsfolk were concerned? They make me sick with their pious humbug.



Flash For Freedom!, pp.63-64, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.


*Flashman's use of racial epitahs is a continuing problem for more enlightened, contemporary readers. The inclusion of these passages should not be taken as tacit support of his misanthropic, 19th century view of race relations.

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