The guy who wrote that comment also commented on an earlier post about the research he's doing for a biography of Cameron. Sounds interesting.
Thanks! I would certainly read one if it came out.
(I do applaud Mr. Brumblydge's egotism! It is one of the reasons I like him. Also his slight capacity for myth-making, which is the reason we get scenes like this—
Prewytt Brumblydge smiled a strange smile.
"When I was a boy in Aberystwyth, in Wales," he said, "my mother and father used to take my brother and me during summer vacations to a little island in the North Atlantic. It wasn't always quiet there, but it was nature's voice you heard.
"The great seas crashed on the rocks. You think we have waves along this coast? Ah, my boys, you've seen nothing! The ancient Britons had built their rock shelters there, and we played among the ruins. They'd raised great stone monuments, and we played in their shadows. We climbed out on the headlands and sang, shouting to the incoming seas:
"Men of Harlech, in the hollow, Do ye hear like rushing billow, Wave on wave that surging follow Battle's distant sound?
"'Tis the tramp of Saxon foemen, Saxon spearmen, Saxon bowmen, Be they knights or hinds or yeomen, They shall bite the ground!"
What a glorious tenor the little man had! How he shook his fist! How his voice rang out! The way he sang that old Welsh war song with its stirring, fighting, tramping rhythm sent the chills up and down the boys' spines. They stared at him in amazement, their eyes wide.
"Well, now," he said, his face suddenly alight with happiness," I must be going. I'm off for Texas, you know, and it's quite a way. Please tell Tyco to call me long distance the minute he gets back, will you?"
—eventually followed by this statement—
"He talked about Aberystwyth," remembered Chuck. "At least he said he was a boy there, but Dr. Frobisher says that Aunt Matilda says that's all nonsense, because he was a boy in Merthyr Tydfil; he never lived in Aberystwyth in his life."
Which may be one of the elements retconned out by A Mystery for Mr. Bass, but I like it and refuse to throw it away. Also, I did not know the tune to "Men of Harlech" for years and made up my own. This happened with many famous poems and pieces of music in my childhood.)
no subject
Thanks! I would certainly read one if it came out.
(I do applaud Mr. Brumblydge's egotism! It is one of the reasons I like him. Also his slight capacity for myth-making, which is the reason we get scenes like this—
Prewytt Brumblydge smiled a strange smile.
"When I was a boy in Aberystwyth, in Wales," he said, "my mother and father used to take my brother and me during summer vacations to a little island in the North Atlantic. It wasn't always quiet there, but it was nature's voice you heard.
"The great seas crashed on the rocks. You think we have waves along this coast? Ah, my boys, you've seen nothing! The ancient Britons had built their rock shelters there, and we played among the ruins. They'd raised great stone monuments, and we played in their shadows. We climbed out on the headlands and sang, shouting to the incoming seas:
"Men of Harlech, in the hollow,
Do ye hear like rushing billow,
Wave on wave that surging follow
Battle's distant sound?
"'Tis the tramp of Saxon foemen,
Saxon spearmen, Saxon bowmen,
Be they knights or hinds or yeomen,
They shall bite the ground!"
What a glorious tenor the little man had! How he shook his fist! How his voice rang out! The way he sang that old Welsh war song with its stirring, fighting, tramping rhythm sent the chills up and down the boys' spines. They stared at him in amazement, their eyes wide.
"Well, now," he said, his face suddenly alight with happiness," I must be going. I'm off for Texas, you know, and it's quite a way. Please tell Tyco to call me long distance the minute he gets back, will you?"
—eventually followed by this statement—
"He talked about Aberystwyth," remembered Chuck. "At least he said he was a boy there, but Dr. Frobisher says that Aunt Matilda says that's all nonsense, because he was a boy in Merthyr Tydfil; he never lived in Aberystwyth in his life."
Which may be one of the elements retconned out by A Mystery for Mr. Bass, but I like it and refuse to throw it away. Also, I did not know the tune to "Men of Harlech" for years and made up my own. This happened with many famous poems and pieces of music in my childhood.)