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Dec. 15th, 2012 08:44 pmI am re-reading Frank McLynn's biography of Napoleon (called, amazingly enough, "Napoleon") and remembering the things that irritated me about it the first time around. Yes, it sounds like Napoleon did indeed have mommy issues. But him marrying a woman 7 years his senior is not proof of that. It's only 7 years!
McLynn subsequently goes on to explain other reasons why he thinks Napoleon was trying to marry his mother by marrying Josephine, to be fair. But it all seems very Freudian in a pretty old-fashioned way. I will skip ahead a few chapters and try the book again, and if that doesn't work, I'll try a different biographer. McLynn is good on battles and political machinations, less good when he's trying to be all psychological.
Brother received his Diamond Jubilee medal and was grinning ear to ear for most of the ceremony. He did manage to look appropriately solemn for the actual moment of presentation, though. I'm feeling very proud (in general, not only because he managed to keep a straight face). Basking in reflected glory is fun. I could be bitchy and complain that the band massacred the music ("O Canada" was virtually unrecognizable and don't get me started on "God Save the Queen"), or complain that the speeches took too long, but I will restrain myself and be all patriotic instead.
There's a big black cat who keeps visiting Young Miss Weaver, much to her dismay. They hiss at each other on either side of the glass door (him on the patio, her in the apartment). I wasn't bothered until I realized he's scratched up the mesh of the screen. Damn cat. He's totally well-cared-for looking and sports a handsome red collar, so I doubt he's a stray.
McLynn subsequently goes on to explain other reasons why he thinks Napoleon was trying to marry his mother by marrying Josephine, to be fair. But it all seems very Freudian in a pretty old-fashioned way. I will skip ahead a few chapters and try the book again, and if that doesn't work, I'll try a different biographer. McLynn is good on battles and political machinations, less good when he's trying to be all psychological.
Brother received his Diamond Jubilee medal and was grinning ear to ear for most of the ceremony. He did manage to look appropriately solemn for the actual moment of presentation, though. I'm feeling very proud (in general, not only because he managed to keep a straight face). Basking in reflected glory is fun. I could be bitchy and complain that the band massacred the music ("O Canada" was virtually unrecognizable and don't get me started on "God Save the Queen"), or complain that the speeches took too long, but I will restrain myself and be all patriotic instead.
There's a big black cat who keeps visiting Young Miss Weaver, much to her dismay. They hiss at each other on either side of the glass door (him on the patio, her in the apartment). I wasn't bothered until I realized he's scratched up the mesh of the screen. Damn cat. He's totally well-cared-for looking and sports a handsome red collar, so I doubt he's a stray.
