RIP George McDonald Fraser
TODAY IS A BLACK DAY. George McDonald Fraser, editor of the Flashman papers, is cremated today after he popped his clogs last week. A few months ago I decided to re-read the novels, having done so twenty years ago the first time. So when sitting at Stansted airport last week and reading of his death in the Telegraph, it was particularly sad as I had two Flashies in the bag for the trip.
How Flashman came about is well known but bears repeating: Thomas Hughes had Flashman expelled from Rugby School, for drunkeness, in his 1857 novel ‘Tom Brown’s Schooldays’. GMF’s genius was, in 1966, to ‘discover’ Flashman’s memoirs in a series of packets which were published as the Flashman novels, supposedly drafted by Flashman before his death in 1915. Altogether a dozen were released and what they comprise is the greatest collection of history book to be found on any shelf.
In Flashman, GMF created history’s greatest bounder, a cad of the highest order, a thief, liar and utter poltroon. In his own (blazingly honest) words, his only talents were for languages, horsemanship and fornication (it’s the cavalry whiskers, don’t you know.) GMF put Flashman into many of the great events of the 19th Century. In his shameful life he became the sole survivor of the Retreat from Kabul, found himself leading the Light Brigade at Balaclava, stood with Custer at the Little Big Horn and shrieked his way through the Indian Mutiny. Along the way he unwittingly traded slaves, worked the Underground Railroad and fought head-hunting pirates off Borneo. His mark, of course, was that of the coward and, despite wishing for nothing more than to stay at home spending his wealthy wife’s money, the fates would conspire to have him off defending the honour of the Empire. Flashman, being true to himself, would then bounce the bedsprings with the age’s great beauties between hiding and screaming at the sight of the enemy. All that would be left if for Flashman to escape by the skin of his teeth from whatever fix he’s in (usually as the only survivor) be hailed the hero of the hour and take a bit more tin on his chest. Thus, history’s greatest scoundrel ends his days as Sir Harry Flashman VC KCB KCIE.
The Flashman novels stand out for three reasons. GMF’s English, which is wonderfully simple and rolls along page after page. Second is the humour. Many is the time I’ve sat in public, Flashy open, with tears running down my face. I have never read any humour so sharp, observed or well-timed. Third, the Flashman novels are renowned for their historical accuracy, GMF’s research being deep and meticulous. As Christopher Hitchens says, "not only are the Flashman novels extremely funny, but they give meticulous care to authenticity. You can, between guffaws, learn from them."
So, if you want to know why the Light Brigade went on that mad, reckless charge, or why Custer’s personal failings led to the death of the 7th Cavalry, or how the Indian Mutiny cam about, Flashy’s your man. I both pity and envy those who have never picked up that first Flashman novel. Pity for the ignorance of the most wonderful series and envy for the joy to come. So if you haven’t had the pleasure, do yourself and your family the great service of buying all dozen novels and, like Flashy faced with a dusky pouting filly, get stuck in.