One of my great guilty pleasures is Sabatini novels. I agree, sometime they are archaic and hard to get through the very thick wads of florid dialogue. They DO film better as a swash of the editor's sword can cut out the pounds of extraneous flesh to get to the meat of the discussion. They're still fun and ripping yarns. I've not read Mistress Wilding in decades, I wonder if I still have it in the box of unpacked books?
Jim Roots wrote:One post here mentioned Robert Klepper's book of reviews. I'd have to say Klepper has the most ... peculiar ... tastes and/or prejudices. His reviews frequently leave me stunned. There's no question about him possibly pulling our legs or deliberately trying to be provocative -- he's too serious for that. He just has an extremely bizarre opinion of too many films. (Not to mention that he sounds like George Shelps' even more odious brother whenever the subject of Chaplin comes up.)
Oh, I could tell a story or two about Robert Klepper. Yes, he had a passionate contempt for Chaplin, and I asked him about that once. He blamed Chaplin for the eventual alcoholism of Mildred Harris, and I knew Robert well enough to know that if there was anything that he hated more violently than Charlie Chaplin, it was hearing a viewpoint contrary to his own. So I dropped the subject. But yes, he was a man of firmly-held and sometimes inexplicable opinions.
He was also suffering a lot from the illness that finally took him away, and that probably colored his outlook. Finishing that book of reviews was pretty much the goal that kept him going.