peter rietbergen

I'd never have thought the man who wrote this also is the author of "Down in The Holler".

Well, besides the rank-and-file who, in most (continental) European armies, were made up of a mix of volunteers, conscripted soldiesr and mercenaries, officers were almost always men who bought or were given their commissions. In continental Europe, where wars were fought almost constantly, many offiiers did have at least a modicum of professional experience. In the UK less so, unless one went to, or was sent to the (American) colonies. Till the 18th century, the British government largely bought its soldiers abroad. Consequently, Wellington was saddled with soldiers who, unlike part of their their continental colleagues, were 'first-generation' men, their forebears having had little experience before the UK entered the Napoleonic wars. But while I know that the men who manned the oars of the French galleons were, often, convicts, and in the UK, too, prisoners wered given the 'choice' to serve their sentence during a naval war. So, probably, Wellington's judgement was well-founded. Obviously, in the 1820's and 1830's, the situation did change: fewer wars on the Continent in which the UK was involved, more colonial wars that appealed to increasingly nationalist sentiments in the population at large.

at one point Art should be Aaron - a typing mistake, surely.

My first instinct is to agree with your first instinct. But reconsidering, I feel that the chiffon and all the other accoutrements of 'attraction' will snuff the candle: when the novelty wears of, honesty may be the only touch-stone of the relationship if we consider to continue it or seek for some more/new chiffon...

But why didn't Art leave the moment A. left for his "errand" ? He knew what had happened. Why remain in peril?

Strangely, despite all the obvious emotions during the days and nights of this hellish party, Lyn still has no clue. I find this increasingly hard to believe.

Andrew's letter/response is impressive indeed.

Interesting. But yet: in a training, even of/for professionals, they may have, psychologically, held back. If such persons were, somehow, really feeling theatened themselves - e.g. by a superior power/authority - they might not show such restriction.

Thanks for the Knausgard-reference. I missed that mastodont - maybe beause I'm over- and yet underwhelmed by his other not exactly slim-sized novels.

Do we have to conquer the restrictions love poses on us to actually find it?

Thanks, for the confession. Maybe my comment stemns from the fact that I'm unable to decide whether this story is "a" story, or - despite or, precisely, in its narrative complexity - a "memoir" of the author's own life. This side of the ocean, there's a small literary and, indeed, also almost philosophical/ethical storm blowing about the validity of that new/specific genre - with people increasingly confused about what they're offered, and how to relate to it. For at least in Europe, the marketing, indeed the commercialization of the "memoir"-genre - especially of texts dealing with war trauma, incest, other forms of abuse, LGTB...issues, class barriers, et cetera, et cetera - leaves many readers non-plussed: what are we actually buying, why, and how to read, interpret it? On the one hand, I obviously understand a person's need to somehow deal with her/his problems, past and present. And if the story-form helps, so much the better. If, on the other, such a story, fictionalised, is yet 'sold' to readers to draw pity on an author's plight, is monetsied both for the publisher's and the author's profit, one cannot but ask the question: how "real" is what I'm reading? And yes, of course I know that's a question that has been asked of 'the novel' since the genre was first used...Is Murasaki's Genji-tale HER story? Is madame De la Fayette's "la Princesse" really a veiled version of her own life? Et cetera. In short, another conundrum....

Call me obtuse, but by now I'm a little bit confused about the number of men "Jimmy" has been "in love" with. To simply go through the previous chapters again and count them - no. I need to go on with my own writing, however much I like procrastinating and indulge in your stories ☺️.

I can think of more exciting continuations....

Such a real pity the story seems to have - well, whatever it has... I miss it.

For all the sex scene-craving above: more of that definitely isn't going to solve any of the conundrums in this story, whether they be philosophical, ethical, time-journeying or other. Actually I'd b bored out of my mind. I much rather keep following the author's convoluted path(s).

I agree in the sense that, often, "religion" is not about "God", but about power and, hence, dominion and destruction.

even so: since the concept of cheating is, I think, not so much a philosophical as an ethical problem: I don't feel the question is apt, in this specific case. For if we take the time-travel concept seriously (if we can do that...) there could be no even flickering recognition in Stoker, as much as, for the sake of the story, we love it. It also means that, THEN, the sex between H and A is only that, despite H's knowledge of the/a future....So who, then, is cheating/being cheated?

and that is how it should be....

Interesting: are we (only) free if we are without "God"? Doesn't that yet depend on your definition of "God". What if "God" is what is best - most reasoned but also most compassionate - in us...?

Perfect examples. But, arguably, not the operas that keep returning to the grand auditorium.... Meanwhile I do relish the idea - and the mermaid might serve as the voice of unrequited (female) love for a/the male protagonist, describing situations, asking questions and, perhaps, succumbing to insanity and death in the end - with the appropriately dramatic arias, as Grand Opera requires. Who of (all) the male heroes finally embraces who in a mellifluous duet - that's for you to decide. Whatever you come up with, I'll shout Bravo.

Ha - an interesting idea indeed. And Orlinski, by now also a gay icon, would be a box-office magnet - for specific audiences, that is. But yet: an all-male cast, albeit a star-one, won't do for the average opera-aficionado - even with so many gays amongst them - because they crave their soprano's and top-notes...

True. It's perhaps the world's greatest danger, because it enables so many other dangers to grow like poisonous fungi. One can only hope that your ideal - a return to love as the basic truth - will yet become a reality.

"Your mind," Madam Woo continued, her voice soft but firm, "is a vast library, is it not? A magnificent thing. But Dottie, in her genius, has found a way to corrupt it. She has filled it with lies. A thousand different books, all claiming to be the truth, all stacked on the same shelf. She is not a warrior, but a librarian of chaos. She has weaponized information against you. She has turned your greatest strength into your greatest weakness. Your mind is collapsing under the weight of her lies." The world wide web/intenet - at its worst?

By the way (and not knowing where the political development(s) will take us): increasingly, I feel this story has what it takes to create the backbone of a fascinating film-script. But it would need some really good character actors, rather than the standard Hollywood ones. And, of course: the chances of such a thing happening are slim without introducing a "female lead"....

The storyline of a threat of a dangerous political intrigue is not unexpected - otherwise, the story would peter out. But it is intriguing, to say the least. It will keep us with you for (many?) more chapters..