The Reavers

As a newbie to George MacDonald Fraser's work, I loved this book. The first few pages were a challenge, since it was all blithely-written nonsense to give the reader some background, and the characters had not yet set foot in the scene. But once they did, I found myself really laughing at the over-the-top dialogues. It's obvious that Fraser really does know his history -- this is no guess-work by an amateur -- but boy, does he have fun with it. Much of the dialogue and references might make more sense to those of us who do happen to have some knowledge of the history of the period, and especially of the Anglo-Scottish borderlands and the broad Scots dialect; but since I'm lucky in that regard, I managed to follow the jokes. I have to say that this book is what I really hoped the Terry Pratchett books would be, but never were for me. Anyway, I plan to read more of Fraser's work in the future. I recommend this to anyone who loves jinking word-play and tongue-ferdy nonsense.

. . . and a volume of SJ Perelman smashes through the collected works of Sir Walter Scott and takes a corner off a Harry Potter tome before plunging into a history of Hollywood swashbucklers. That will give you a flavor of the late great George MacDonald Fraser's last work. Fraser wrote five kinds of books in his illustrious career. There were his peerless Flashman books, of course. There were his solid histories - A Hollywood History of the World remains the best and most engaging study of the subject matter ever written. There were his two volumes of memoirs - Quartered Safe Out Here is easily one of the five best firsthand accounts of World War II, a classic which should be on every shelf of military history for the next millenium. There was Fraser's other fiction, ranging from the comic McAuslan novels to the dark and brooding Candlemass Road. Then there were his two nonsense novels: Pyrates and this, his valedictory novel. Personally, I've never cared for this sort of humor. It is too loose, too many word plays, no structure to hold on to. I've never seen the point of the Marx Brothers or Perelman. Nevertheless, this is a superior example of this sort of fiction and I found myself laughing out loud far more often than I ever had while watching Duck Soup or reading Westward Ho! And as someone who read the first, newly published Flashman in high school, I have received a lifetime of enjoyment from the author. If as his last work, he chose to write a book which gave him the undoubted pleasure The Reavers gave him, then I say, bravo, Mr. Fraser. Now if only his publisher can convince Fraser's daughter - a fine writer in her own right - to resume the Flashman novels, all will be well in the world. The literary world, at any rate.

It takes a very self-assured author to begin a book with what is perhaps the most ridiculed opening sentence on all of literature. The late Mr. Fraser was certainly that; after all he wrote 12 Flashman novels (I wish that there were more!), and numnerous other books, both fiction and nonfiction. Who better to mock convention? This book is an incredible mishmash of literate writing, bookish puns, wild swinging between 15th and 21st century dialogue, and some interesting nods to other books and movies (e.g. James Bond, etc.) and quotes from the likes of W.C. Fields, et al. I found myself laughing uproariously at times, and annoying my family by reading some of the book to them. At times it overreaches in trying to be too amusing, but I forgive Mr. fraser for that because of the enjoyment I have had over the years from his writing. This book won't be to everyone's taste, but if you're an admirer of the author of Flashmanm, and you enjoy silliness and intelligence mixed together, I heartily recommend this book.

Classic over the top GMF. The Reavers draws on three of his previous works, in no particular order: The Steel Bonnets, a serious (yes, serious) history of the border region between Scotland and England in the Tudor era; The Candlemas Road, a novella about the area and era he wrote some years ago; and The Pyrates, a send up on all those 30's Errol Flynn pirate movies. He moves from the late 16th century to the 21st and back again without missing a beat and the anachronisms will leave you in tears, if not totally convulsed with laughter. It's sad that this was his last book, because there will never be any more; at least we can take comfort in the fact he went out on top.

The Reavers is very much in the style of Fraser's "Pyrates" but, in my opinion, not as successful. For those of you more familiar with the Flashman books, both The Reavers and Pyrates are more over-the-top, more fantastic, and the narrator is constantly interjecting with a wink and a nudge. Pyrates is probably my all-time favorite Fraser novel-- but The Reavers felt more like a rehash. Even so, I definitely enjoyed it. If you haven't read Pyrates yet, I'd recommend reading it instead.