Flashman and the Dragon by George MacDonald Fraser is the eighth book in a series of "memoirs" by the fictional Sir Harry Paget Flashman, who received great public acclaim and high rank as a soldier in the 19th century British Army even though he could be considered an antihero (if one considers cowardice, dishonesty, disloyalty, and a willingness to get someone killed to protect your reputation to be character flaws). I enjoyed the historical setting and period language even though I cottoned on slowly to the particulars of the storyline. Flashy meets nearly everyone involved in the Taiping Rebellion and Second Opium War in 1860 China and bayonets away with elan in the rare instances when he isn't seducing (or being seduced by) women, participating in some legally questionable enterprise, or fleeing from danger. I was impressed by the fiendish ingenuity with which Flashy danced truth's gossamer tightrope (i.e., bullshitted other people), but I was so befuddled by Flashy's far-fetched escapes from his numerous scrapes with danger that I felt like I was walking in Nephelococcygia, as the author would put it. The graphic violence had my innards in rare turmoil for a few moments, but Fraser stepped quickly into the breech when it was Rosalie's breakfast time with interesting insight into real historical events (particularly British High Commissioner to China Lord Elgin's decision to destroy the Summer Palace) and made capital progress toward completing an entertaining, if flawed, novel. Good show, I daresay!