Sorry for the um...not so frequent updates. I was trying to work on something about Tudor history books, but instead, another topic has captured my attention.
Ivanhoe.
I picked up Ivanhoe while looking for the Hobbit at the library. I've always been meaning to read it for some odd reason or another and there it was, only checked out three times in the past five or six years. I know I was supposed to do some Holinshed, but frankly, I don't think I could entertain you.
So Ivanhoe. We start out with some pretty descriptions of England in the 12th century, which is nice. However, I grow to resent it after three pages. I kind of want to skip it, but I can't without a certain amount of guilt say I've read Ivanhoe and not read the first pages. There are a lot of descriptions in here. Boy, are there a lot of descriptions. Descriptions. Descriptions. Clothes. Franklins. There's something about the Normans and the Saxons that you probably don't need to know except the Normans are French and everybody speaks French because the Normans pwnd the Saxons.
Oh. And clothes.
There's these guys. They're the first human contact we've had. Their names are Gurth and Wamba and already I'm entertained. It's partly the names, partly the fact that the description is over for now. Because it comes back a paragraph later. Did I mention how much description there is? Because there's a lot. And it's about clothes again. Gurth and Wamba stop to insult a swine-herd for no discernable reason (I'm not kidding). Gurth calls his wolf, Fangs. I'm getting slightly more interested.
So then a priest, a Templar, and a parson are riding through the woods, this is starting to sound like the beginning of a bad joke, and the chapter ends there.
Thoughts: There better not be more description. If I have to hear one more word about someone's pants, I'm going to kill someone. But keept the ridiculous names and wolf-calling coming. I'm okay with that.
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