Reading Froissart in the Adirondacks

With Pen and Sword

Last weekend, I went to the Adirondacks to visit my dad.  His cabin is one of the most comfortable places in the world, despite the lack of running water and electricity, or perhaps because of it.  There’s no internet, and there’s time to read. I took Froissart, a very long, very tangled, and sometimes downright falsified Chronicle of the world of the later fourteenth century.

I first read Froissart in the Adirondacks, around campfires, when I was fourteen.  that same summer I also read James Fenimore Cooper‘s ‘Last of the Mohicans’ and then, like any Harry Potter fan, I gobbled my way though all the Leather Stocking tales, and then read ‘The Spy‘ and … on and on.  Froissart and Cooper.  I’m pretty sure, somewhere in my neural pathways, you can deconstruct the Red Knight in those campfire readings; I can only say that despite Cooper’s racism…

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