I’ve been reading Gerard Reve’s De Avonden: a classic of Dutch literature and truly fantastic, but deeply depressing. So when I happened upon The Princess Bride at my local 2nd-hand bookstore, I took an evening out to rampage through it, for some light relief. The night after, I finished De Avonden and, having enjoyed the swashbuckling so much, began on The Three Musketeers.

Which I guess explains why I dreamed that night of a duel (cape, twirled moustache and all), in which the customary insults were exchanged in Dutch. I distinctly remember, upon waking, saying to myself “How ridiculous; I’ve never met a Dutchman who could buckle his swash without step-by-step instructions.”

[With apologies to any truly dashing Dutch readers; I’ll be glad to grant you satisfaction. You can see my short reviews of these books at my LibraryThing reviews account.]