Blah blah blah

Not much to post today. Between swimming this morning, marking fora this afternoon and going over to Shrewsbury for fencing this evening, I haven't time to find things on the web to rant about (and that's what blogging is for, isn't it?). 

I did finally get through the Anne of Green Gables marathon (the main eight novels, not the side-projects). I thought they'd be a quick canter but one can only take so much sentiment at a time. Some patches were spectacularly good, others were spectacularly bad. The tendency to introduce Poochie-style new characters when the old ones got dull or their lives became too adult to entertain the target audience was a little wearing. Children may be adorable, but not so many of them. 

The last volume, Rilla of Ingleside, though it had touching moments, was by far the worst. It's a female Bildungsroman set against the backdrop of World War One, but rapidly degenerates into propaganda with very little room for nuance: dying brothers, declarations that the Kaiser needs a spanking, authorially-approved violence towards pacifist deacons. Worst of all, everybody agrees that Canada's bright future can only come about by a blood sacrifice in advance - remind anybody of a certain other nation and political movement?