![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nineveh_ukTry as I might to write a version of Bunter resolves the dead Turk situation at Downton Abbey more efficiently than the hapless inhabitants, I fear that it is more of an intellectual exercise than a fic. I was mainly writing it in order to use the title "It's Nobody's Business but the Turk's", and to allow Thomas to be very annoyed at Bunter's effortless superiority. (Plot: Bunter has spotted both Pamuk and Thomas as dodgy, comes upon the unoccupied bedroom, removes Pamuk to the nearest men's lavatory, gets Carson, tells him that they must remove Pamuk to his bedroom, whic his more dignified, and problem solved. Separately advises Anna that the Dowager Countess will prove a better source of help for girls in trouble than the Countess, given that she's been having an affair with someone or other for the last forty years.)
In other news, I finished the Mennonites book on Sunday. There was a little bit of religion, albeit mostly in the form of cultural history, in the final chapter, but I remain baffled by the intended audience. In two pages in the middle of a book the author uses the words adiaphorous, praxis, and ratiocinative (unnecessarily), leaping the next moment into woolly philosophising on the sub-Bart Simpson level. I am not sure how any of this fits with the Amusing Anecdotes about sisters-in-law and pubic hair. It's also the story of the end of an abusive marriage, which she tells with considerable humour and pathos, while maintaining a clear distinction between her husband's vile personality and his bipolar disorder. Though I admit that I was thrown out of the narrative early on by the invoking of a stereotype of top-floor-library-haunting Humanities nerds in 1991 including a laptop. I don't believe that even in California. In short, it was a readable, indeed entertaining, book, but I cannot recommend it.
In other news, I finished the Mennonites book on Sunday. There was a little bit of religion, albeit mostly in the form of cultural history, in the final chapter, but I remain baffled by the intended audience. In two pages in the middle of a book the author uses the words adiaphorous, praxis, and ratiocinative (unnecessarily), leaping the next moment into woolly philosophising on the sub-Bart Simpson level. I am not sure how any of this fits with the Amusing Anecdotes about sisters-in-law and pubic hair. It's also the story of the end of an abusive marriage, which she tells with considerable humour and pathos, while maintaining a clear distinction between her husband's vile personality and his bipolar disorder. Though I admit that I was thrown out of the narrative early on by the invoking of a stereotype of top-floor-library-haunting Humanities nerds in 1991 including a laptop. I don't believe that even in California. In short, it was a readable, indeed entertaining, book, but I cannot recommend it.