Falstaff

Falstaff has always been one of Shakespeare's more interesting and entertaining characters - and critic Harold Bloom's childhood favourite - so it's a pleasure to see him not killed off at all, but as an alive (though not so very well) octogenarian recounting his fictionalised life con brio. Yes, as another reviewer has noted, there is perhaps an excess of bawdiness here (What else should one expect from Falstaff?!?). But, curiously, for this reader, I never found these, ahem, drawn out passages prurient or erotic. They were too ridiculous. In short, I invariably found myself laughing. I don't think the prudish really need any warning about these passages - one would think - if they're at all familiar with the Falstaffian character. In any event, Nye's Falstaff proclaims early on (Chapter V) that: "It is my intention in writing these memorials to set down EVERYTHING. If that diet of experience proves too rich or strange a meal for some stomachs, then, Eat elsewhere, is my advice, and wish you better appetites." He might have said everything and then some. A personal impression -- it's no surprise at all to me that Nye also writes children's books. Falstaff's description of his childhood here is lovely and poetic, and, with his "Hey diddle diddle!" and suchlike interjections strewn throughout the book, he reminds me of nothing so much as a Tolkien's Tom Bombadil, with the bawdy parts thrown in (Not, for the record, that I regard Tolkien's work as merely for children.). Nye's Falstaff is not all about bawdiness, of course. He offers profound reflections on war, life, death, love etc. In the end, one comes away loving the fellow with all his faults and exaggerations - One is very sorry to see him go. But, as Falstaff says here: "Everything is suddener than we think." The title of this review is a word I picked up here. I'm being mischievous, I suppose, in using it.....Falstaffian even!

Shakespeare killed off one of his most interesting characters in Henry V, but Robert Nye has brought him wonderfully to life again in this marvellous novel. Written in the form of an autobiography, it mingles the life of Shaeksepare's fiction Falstaff with the real-life Sir John Fastolff of Norfolk. His reminiscenses are funny, bawdy, dramatic and sometimes moving, as when he describes villagers dying of the Black Death, or the wretched victims of a long and bitter seige. His amorous adventures are described in some detail, a lot of ladies benefit from his attentions in the course of his long and very active life, his wedding night in the snow sounds chilly, but interesting. His brief encounters with Joan of Arc are startlingly dramatic (no, he doesn't sleep with her, even Robert Nye draws the line somewhere). This is a long, absorbing, fascinating and very funny novel.